Not a White Christmas

Another six-day week at the (handle) bar and another 550km, so we're a bit puffed out today and have been flopping about in the small Argentine town of Belen. It's long odds for a white Xmas here as it is a sunny 25°C and excellent beer-drinking weather (although it's over 40°C down on the plains, so we won't be going there). The route along Route 40 from Salta took in fine sandstone canyons and the scenic wine-growing Cafayate region (nice chilled Turrontes whites). Our addiction to steak continues in an effort to put back on some of the 5kg we have collectively lost - no need for a post-Xmas slimming regime here. We also experienced the strong local Zonda desert wind, both for and against us, which was good practice for windy Patagonia. Local Xmas preparations are muted (apart from lots of firework buying - could be noisy tonight) and a huge contrast to 'Shop until you drop' UK. From here we continue south to Mendoza (another wine-growing area...) after New Year. Best seasonal greetings, Clive & Liz.

'Feliz Navidad' from Argentina

It's hard to convey just how radically things have changed for us in the last week or so, in many ways probably the most extreme contrast we will experience on the whole trip. We crossed the border into Argentina about a week ago and were greeted by two signs - the first reminding us just how enormous this country is and how far we have to go, and the second reminding us of some recent (actually, not so recent ...) history. We descended slowly from the great heights of the altiplano (passing numerous varieties of cacti both very large and very small!) and having been at around 4,000m for so many weeks, the air down here at a mere 1,200m feels thick and warm. We´re in Salta, a lovely colonial city with a very European feel to it - lots of cafes, very good Italian coffee, and long siestas. On the food and drink front, things have improved considerably! The steaks are out of this world - huge, plate-sized portions that even we can´t finish and very drinkable red wine, which is going down well after nearly four months without. Our original plan was to stay just a few weeks in NW Argentina and then cross over into Chile but given the current, most enjoyable conditions, we have decided it might be an idea to extend our stay in this wonderful country, probably going as far south as La Rioja (for obvious reasons!). We´re not sure exactly where we will be for Christmas (possibly camping at a petrol station as we think a lot of hostels will close ...) but we will think of you back home as we tuck into paneton, turron and more wine. Have a great Christmas and happy 2008 to you all!

South-West Bolivia: Salt flats & flamingos

We went quickly from La Paz to Uyuni, itself a rather bleak railway town. However this was the access point for tours of the wilderness areas of SW Bolivia. It was too remote for cycling, so we hopped into a 4x4 jeep for a three-day tour. The whole area has wonderful sights including the Salar de Uyuni (the world´s biggest salt flat), brightly coloured lakes with towering volcanos and steaming thermal baths (which Liz - lost in steam - particularly appreciated at a chilly 7am). Many lakes unbelieveably have resident populations of flamingos, not what you quite expect at 4000m! Overall a remarkable place and quite unlike anywhere else we´ve seen. We are in Tupiza now and will cross into Argentina tomorrow. We are nearly at the half-way point in time and indeed the whole trip will change significantly now in three ways; we leave the developing Andean countries for the developed ones of Argentina and Chile, drop from the Andean plateau to lower altitudes and move from tropical to temperate regions. All pleasingly symmetric - a trip of two halves. Certainly the prospects of large steaks and fine wine in Argentina are an enticing thought. (NB: Blog settings have been changed so anyone can now comment.)

La Paz: the two-mile-high capital

Hello All. Not much (geographic) progress since last week as we have only cycled for two days. Whilst on the border at Copacabana we went out to one of the islands on Lake Titicaca for the day (very scenic). We also witnessed the bizarre daily ceremony of ´vehicle blessing´ in front of the cathedral in town; the priest can be seen sploshing the holy water around the decorated cars. Maybe we should have got the bikes done too? Then it was eastbound including a ferry-crossing by barge, which was a bit of a squeeze with a bus (but luckily we didn´t get the barge full of cows. Apologies for pic - too hard to rotate in this programme) and a squeeze through rush-hour traffic (Japanese co-cyclist Sekiji pictured). Now we´re relaxing in the Bolivian capital La Paz at a paltry 3600m and it´s a nice city for mellowing (= cakes & barbeques). Our hosts are Linda and Raul, residents who give shelter to weary cyclists in their lovely home. We´re still getting used to hot running water and comfy mattresses (all much appreciated). And after three months on the road the scores-on-the-doors are: 50 days cycled, 3008km (along), 36,700m (up). Next destinations: Oruro and Uyuni.

Cycle, eat, sleep, repeat

Well that´s been our longest pedalling session yet; a whole 7 days without a break. We have covered about 550km from Cuzco to the border and are now in Copacabana, Bolivia. Although it is not the Brazilian Copacabana, we have just been sunning ourselves on the beach at Lake Titicaca. The route included bleak high plateau puna and some much appreciated thermal baths. We had 10 weeks in Peru in all and it was a facinating though challenging time. We´ll miss the splendid, at times tremendous, scenery and the calm dignity of the Indians in the highlands. Conversely we hope no longer to be taunted as "Gringos" or seemingly woken every morning at 5am by a shouting contest amongst hotel staff. Cycling regularly has certainly changed our dietary behaviour; we scutinise food packets to ensure they have the maximum calorific intake, shovel sugar into our tea and consume at least two litres of vile pop every day. So we are looking forward to the next month in the Bolivia of dramatic altiplano, salt lakes and more llamas.

Cuzco, Machu Picchu, and beyond

Apologies for the blog silence over the last week or so but we have been on a mini-break! As predicted, it took us a while to 'acclimatise' to touristy Cuzco but it didn't take long to get used to the endless variety of food and drink available - all at four times the usual price but worth every Sol. We ended up staying a week - not just because of the apple pastries but also beacuse train tickets to Machu Picchu were in short supply and though Clive had been before on his previous tour of the continent, we decided that it could not be missed.

And I wasn't disappointed. It is truly amazing, for me more because of the dramatic high-mountain setting than the actual site, though if you can fight through the tour groups, there is some incredible stonework. It's a long day out, involving a four-hour train journey from Cuzco (down the beautiful Urubamba valley), about five hours at the site and then five hours back on the train. When we arrived, in an attempt to get away from the crowds, we headed straight for Waynapicchu, the big pointy peak in the background. It is more of a scramble than a walk up a very steep, rocky path, culminating in an almost vertical set of steps up to the fortification at the top (fun in a vertiginous sort of way!). And the view of the site from the top is amazing - really atmospheric.

We finally pedalled out of Cuzco on 17th Nov and we are now on our way to Puno on a lovely tarmac road with only one high pass, then we hit the altiplano. On our way out of Cuzco yesterday, having seen only three cyclists since Quito, we were astonished to pass what almost amounted to a peloton on the hard shoulder. A German couple, who have done 60,000km on their round-the-world trip and, pictured right, a Swiss couple plus four-year-old son in a trailer on their way from Canada to Tierra del Fuego. Truly remarkable.

Ayacucho

It was a real pleasure to arrive in Ayacucho after a tough few days on the road. It's at a mere 2,700m, so to us the air felt thick and it was beautifully warm and bright. For most of the eighties and early nineties, the city and surrounding highlands were off-limits to tourists because of the activities of the terrorist group Sendero Luminoso (Shining Path), though the horrors are now almost impossible to imagine as you wander around in the sunshine admiring all the colonial architecture, enjoying local hospitality and the excellent ice-cream.

This post is specifically for the benefit of everyone who knows Hazel, a friend of mine who spent three months as a volunteer with an American organisation called Cross-Cultural Solutions (CSS), working at a primary school, a nursery and an orphanage. Hazel arranged for us to meet the co-ordinator of CSS, Marisol, and as a result, we had a very sociable couple of days. We arrived in the city just as the Todos los Santos (All Saints' Day) festival was getting underway - Ayacucho is famous for its festivals throughout the year and so it was good to witness what seemed to be the whole town turn out for a massive street party.

The following day we were supposed to be resting our weary legs but it turned out that Marisol's husband is also a cyclist and he was going out for a ride with a small group so we couldn't resist joining in the fun - especially as it meant the joy of a ride without panniers! It ended up being quite a long 70km day, with a hot but really beautiful pedal up to a village for lunch. Took a while and several litres of Inca Kola to cool off after all that (see photo)!

Then before we parted company with Marisol and her family, she took us to see the results of one of the projects Hazel worked on - the building of a wall and a toilet block at a primary school in a really poor area on the outskirts of Ayacucho. It was great to see what a difference the addition of the most basic facilities can make and Marisol was obviously very proud of all the work that Hazel and the other volunteers had done to make this happen.

Despite its inaccessibility, Ayacucho is clearly growing in importance as a tourist destination - we saw more gringos than any other town since Quito (good preparation for Cuzco, where we will be in a few days' time) but it is still totally unspoilt and is definitely on my list of places to revisit one day.

Huancayo to Abancay

A while since the last post but it's been all work and no play! We've moved from Huancayo to Abancay over 12 days by various means. Firstly we took the train to Huancavelica; an aged and bumpy affair that left late and arrived later still. Then there was a three-day leg to Ayacucho. The first day turned out to be a bit of a marathon and we caught a big hailstorm at 4200m in the afternoon. How we laughed as we descended for 20km on 2" of hail, which then turned to mud covering us thoroughly. That evening's beer was well-earned. So we skipped the next day with a taxi trip over some more seriously rugged terrain (NB: In the photo its brakes are being worked on before we set off. Actually quite reassuring.). We wrapped up with three solid bike days and an intervening 10-hour bus journey from Ayacucho to Andahuaylas. The Peruvian Highlands are the same profile as an egg box; i.e. it is all up and down (with part of the winding 56km descent to Abancay shown). However we are nearing the Altiplano (high plateau) of S. Peru and Bolivia, so the legs should get some relief soon. And if you think we're making life difficult for ourselves, check out the tandem picture - an Austrian couple 40,000km into a three-year round the world trip. Too much!

The Central Highlands

We´re now in Huancayo, the bustling capital of the central highlands, having cycled a whole seven days in a row without a day off! A total of 381km, though all on lovely tarmac and some days were quite short. It was essentially a three-day climb from 1,800m up to the delightful (not!) mining town of Cerro de Pasco at 4,300m, our highest and most freezing hotel so far. We spent two days crossing the Junin plateau, a bleak and windswept place but with its own kind of beauty (and oddly popular with British bird-watchers ...). We had some interesting weather conditions, the coldest yet, with horizontal hail ... but things brightened up a bit as we started to lose altitude. A number of road signs promised us llamas but we only saw one herd and that was in the middle of a hailstorm - we weren´t in the mood for photos and nor were the llamas.

In contrast to all this, we stayed in what must be the ugliest town in Peru, La Oroya, home to the smelting plant for all the locally-mined ore. See photo from bedroom window above ... the pollution made us cough and sneeze and we were only there for a night. I dread to think what health problems the residents must suffer.

Leaving the smog behind us, we had two very pleasant days of gentle descent down the Mantaro valley and in contrast to the mining horrors, a very relaxing stay in Jauja, the first capital of Peru - see photo of very civilised German-run hostal with colonial-style patio.

The plan for the next stage is to take the train to Huancavelica tomorrow, though information on the subject of departures is characteristically unclear. Then we´ll be back on the dirt roads to Ayacucho.

Cycling over Mont Blanc

So it was ´Hasta Luego´ Huaraz as we pedalled further up the Santa Valley and past the rest of the splendid Cordillera Blanca. The midpoint of the leg was Chiquian, the village used to start the 10 day trek around the next mountain range: the Cordillera Huayhuash. (This is the location of the mountain Siula Grande in the Joe Simpson epic ´Touching The Void´.) Sadly the trekking season had concluded, but the scenery even from a distance was tremendous. The road then crossed the Andes by the Yanashalla Pass at 4700m; about the height of Mont Blanc. This is the continental divide so now we´re on the East side of the range. Liz took the climb in her stride but Clive was puffing like a steam train by the top. (My excuse was the air pressure is at less than 60% at that altitude!) Then it´s been generally downhill to the low and warm city of Huanuco for a breather and, after touristy Huaraz, a return to mainstream Peru (i.e. no other gringos about). Tomorrow we return to the altiplano and mines of Cerro de Paso at 4300m. Brrr!

(Hint - Click on the photos to enlarge them.)

On foot in the Cordillera Blanca

We´re back in Huaraz (roughly the Peruvian equivalent of Chamonix) after our four-day Santa Cruz trek in the northern Cordillera Blanca. Luckily the winter (i.e. dry) season hung in long enough for us to witness some spectacular mountain scenery en route. Characteristically we decided on the more demanding option of backpacking with our gear, rather than going on a guided trek with pack animals (like other, more sensible, travellers). Although Liz really wanted to take a mule with us so she could have some intelligent company along for once. There was fine scenery throughout of azure lakes, lush woods and ultra-snowy classic hills like Alpamayo; thoroughly dramatic all in all.

Now it´s change again from two legs back to two wheels (no rucksack - lovely) as we continue south to Huanaco (in about a week).

No pain, no gain

The first month or so on the road has definitely been a challenge (physically, logistically, culturally, linguistically, digestively, etc.) but when we looked out of our hotel room this morning and were presented with the view in the photo, all those hours in the saddle suddenly seemed more than worth the effort. We are in Huaraz, mountaineering Mecca of South America, surrounded by 23 peaks over 5,000m and with a clear view of Huascaran, the highest mountain in Peru at over 6,700m. Heaven! Even though we are a little late in the season, the forecast is good and so we are planning to do a five-day trek (up to a 4,700m pass) to get us even closer to these stunning peaks. We´ll pedal up the valley to Caraz tomorrow, which should be a lovely day out in itself, and then store the bikes before heading off on foot.

Some statistics, for those who enjoy facts and figures ... we´ve now spent 20 days in the saddle, covered 993km, and climbed a staggering 16,630m (twice the height of Everest).

La Vuelta Ciclistica al Peru welcomes The Cycle Diaries

Just as we left Cajamarca we had the good fortune to see the national cycling tour of Peru which started that day. Compared to our labours they were only doing 900km, all on tarmac and no-one had panniers on. Pah! However it was a fine sight with speeches, brass band and a mass start.

Meanwhile back at the coal-face, we have had three days to Huamachuco through continuing hilly scenery and rural scenicness (see photo of typical roadside diner for lunch). We have a rugged bit of Peru next before we reach Huaraz and the mighty mountains of the Cordillera Blanca.

A day on the road

We´ve pedalled (and bussed a bit - shh!) from Chachapoyas to Cajamarca over five days and are now in the Northern Highlands. The highlight of the leg was from the River Utcubamba to the (big) River Maranon - an Amazon tributary. There was a six-hour climb to a pass at 3700m (Clive was puffing here) then, after a night camped at a local´s ´farm´, a massive 50km descent into the huge valley. Next destination: Huamachuco.

Thought an overview of a typical day in the saddle might be interesting, so here goes: Life starts early in the Andes, with the cockerels crowing hard by 5am and the locals up and about by 6am, so there isn´t much of a lie-in. We´re normally on the road by 9, ´road´ being a dirt affair of graded stones and grit. The main factor each day is not the distance along, but the amount of climbing involved, as one big ascent becomes the dominant feature of the day - 1500m is our limit. Hopefully we pass a ´restaurant´ sometime for lunch (chicken and rice are the recurring staples), then it´s more pedalling and a lookout for accommodation by 4pm (as being near the Equator it gets dark early and quickly at 6.30pm). Overnight is a hospedaje, typically simple but serviceable places, then more food (cycling makes you very hungry). Yes, it is demanding, but the scenery has been generally impressive, sometimes spectacular, and a bicycle soon breaks down barriers with locals and really allows you to see, hear and smell a country up close.