Arrived in Cochabamba via Buenos Aires, exhausted but excited. I feel quite at home in Cochabamba and settle for a couple of days preparing for the journey ahead.
Lake Titicaca had been niggling away in my mind and I suddenly remembered about a book I had read in the late 1970s that I now realise is probably instrumental into why I am doing all this, The incredible Journey by Tristan Jones describing his journey from Lake Titicaca to the Dead Sea by boat. What is more incredible is that when looking him up on the internet it turns out one of his boats had my family name, well, incredible to me anyway.
13/6/14 COCHABAMBA TO PATACAMAYA
The weather in Cochabamba was excellent and after a long debate with myself I put the liner in my riding suit and set off through the morning traffic to the outskirts of town where I was waved through the toll barrier and the adventure began.
I was planning about 300 miles a day to Quito and in my ignorance figured it was easily do-able even if I got behind the first couple of days.I had been worrying about all sorts of things, strikes, altitude sickness etc but everything was fine, lots of hairpins and climbs going over 4000 metres back down again before climbing again to Patacamaya at 4000 metres. I hadn't worried about getting a flat tire but nevertheless I got one but that meant that I was able to ease my mind about the efficasy of my telescopic hand pump. Murphy's law seems to dictate that things only happen in the middle of nowhere . I couldn't find any puncture puncture and I was able to get enough air into the tire to carry on. It seems strange that in the middle of nowhere, a small village will be full of tire repair establishments and high in the Andes I pulled over and had a proper check to see where the air was leaking and having fixed the problem handed over 50 cents and was on my way.
I don't best know how to describe Patacamaya, I suppose it is a market town and it was the first place where there was any accommodation. Having enquired about hotels at the petrol station but not fully understood the answer I cruised up and down the main street trying to figure which place to plump for.There were various Hospedajes in various stages of being completed but I eventually decided on the Potosi Hotel which, compared to the rest , looked rather grand and had locked parking.
In my best Spanish I asked if they had any vacancies and was told a price which I was sure I had misunderstood. 6 dollars for an en-suite room in the finest hotel in town, surely there was some mistake. No, the price was correct and I was given the key in exchange for Bolivars and I set off to my room. Basic is a word that comes to mind , well used is a good description of the bed and it is true that the bathroom had all the pieces one would expect in a bathroom although it is not a good time to realise there is no toilet paper right when you need it most. I think I had been blindsided trying to avoid the water on the floor as i sat down.
There was even a TV, at the price, how do they do it I wondered. Having dumped my bag and put the padlock back on the door I headed off in search of food . It was around this time that I realised that at this altitude all I could manage was a slow amble.To cut a long story short I quickly realised that I was not going to find a decent restaurant in this place and having perused one or two purveyors of grilled chicken and chips I headed back to my room with a couple of bottles of water and some chocolate biscuits, oh, and a toilet roll.
It must have been while I was sitting on the bed tucking into my feast and watching the blurred outline of a Brazil match that I realised that it was getting cold and that there was no heater.The night was spent fully clothed in bed and I am still here to tell the story.
14/6/14 PATACAMAYA TO ARICA
Such was the comfort of the Potosi hotel that I was on the road before light and it wasn't much longer before I couldn't feel my fingers in the freezing cold but as the sun came up things got better.
Border crossing at Tambo Quemada was very busy but well organised and then I was into Chile and the descent from 4600 metres began.
I have to say that these twisty roads with shear drops of god knows how far certainly help to focus on your imortality but also it is hard to imagine the vastness, At 4000 metres plus on the alto plano its just like being on another level and you don't get the impression of being in the mountains, that is if you ignore the altitude sickness.
Bolivia is my favorite country so far, it is relatively unspoiled and there is a huge difference between the cities and the rural areas.I have to pinch myself to realise this is all real and that it is me high in the Andes, witnessing what I had only imagined before. If I had been better at geography or if Geography at school could be made half as exciting as it really is I am sure it would have been my best subject. As I have seen relatively little I have to return , It's tough but somebody has to do it.
The night was spent in a very nice hotel with a very very nice room on the coast of Chile in Arica. In the cold light of day I realised that I was two hundred miles behind schedule after only 2 days of travel.
15/6/14 ARICA TO CAMANA
I was up and away before breakfast, this was the day, I decided, I was going to make up the miles and get back on schedule.
Good ride to one of the main border crossings and was really pleased to arrive at the same time as a load of coaches, shared a joke with a Chilean about his team , turns out he was Australian, How we laughed.
There seems to be some uniformity about all these land borders in as much as it seems the busier they are the more efficient they operate. It wasn't long before I was on my way again wondering once again why I was putting myself through this.
For some reason I had got it into my head that all would be more or less easy going at sea level for the rest of my route to Quito. The fact of it was that following the coast meant climbing and following twisting roads through the edge of the Andes, added to this was the enjoyment of battling the trucks, where were they coming from ? I wondered and more importantly, where were they going?
Eventually reached Camana, Its a nice feeling arriving at the end of a hard tiring ride, cruising into town feeling like a conquering hero and wondering why nobody else is interested, maybe I should put stickers all over my bike.
Signed into what seemed a reasonable hotel. It was comfortable enough and the meal in the restaurant was nice enough but I stupidly expected to be able to get a good nights sleep. All was not lost however because by the time I left I was almost singing along to the throbbing beat of South American Salsa music emanating from the disco downstairs and luckily it was only between 1 am and 5 am. Seems Saturday night is the same the world over ( complete with youths vomiting in the main square.)
16/614 CAMANA TO BARRANCA
Today I would be traversing Lima, I had been looking forward to this since leaving Cochabamba, there is something bracing about being in the madness of a capital city's traffic on a motorcycle. It's something we all should experience so that we show more courtesy to strangers we see on the road.
I had been perusing the map and was comfortable with the fact that the Pan Americana went through Lima and out the other side, albeit by a fairly circuitous route. The traffic was building nicely as I approached the city and I held my speed and nerve to avoid being cut up by the locals. I have long done away with my earphones for the GPS so I was travelling along glancing down regularly to make sure I was still on the red line and feeling quite pleased with myself at my progress.
Three hours after entering the city I came out the other side trembling and sweating. These highways are very fine until you miss a turning and then have to find your way back .I think I can confidently say that I have seen parts of Lima that no sane foreigner would venture into and I discovered that the local taxi drivers either have a warped sense of humour or genuinely don't know how to get back to the PanAmerican Norte.
As is my habit I was in an hotel in Barranca about three in the afternoon and enjoyed a very nice lunch. I have to say that the food in Peru has been the best in the whole of South America, at least to my uncultured palate it seems that way. The hotel is really quite good, right in the centre of town and 30 years ago it was probably quite grand but the service was still excellent .
17/6/14 BARANCA TO CHICLAYA
Another day of more of the same, climbing high and coming down again, endless miles of mountainous terrain, good fun but better not get too near the limits with shear drops at the sides of the road and the odd truck coming the other way on my side of the road.
Got stopped for a document check/ BS session by the Peruvian police. Many many years ago when travelling in far away places people would ask where you came from and then in a friendship ritual would do a thumbs up and say " Bobby Charlton " , Imagine my surprise , after telling them I was from Liverpool , to be greeted with a thumbs up and " Stevie Gerrard, Corazon de Liverpool ", I wonder if he knows he is famous even amongst the Peruvian Caribinieri, and in a different way to many Liverpool Scallies.
18/6/14 CHICLAYA TO TUMBES
I was debating whether to get into Ecuador today but largely because I had changed too much money into Peruvian I decided to stay in Tumbes. Again another hard days ride, its not easy to cover large distances on these roads but I had clawed back most of the deficit and I was left with 385 miles the next day to reach Quito. I travelled past a lot of resorts, typical of a lot of sea-side places in many parts of the world. Still a long way to go before they are spoilt but they are working on it.
The hotel in Chiclaya was nice and I had booked ahead to the same chain in Tumbes and early afternoon was enjoying lunch wondering how Ecuador would be the next day.
19/6/14 TUMBES TO QUITO
Every time I ask somebody how far somewhere is I get an answer in hours but looking at 40 miles on a map and being told three hours had me wondering so I was on the road before dawn to get to the border. After 40 mins I arrived at a huge Border crossing area with both the Peruvian and Ecuadorian immigration in one building and the Peruvian customs about 150 metres away. I was the only person wanting to cross at this hour and having woken the Ecuadorian immigration official from a deep sleep slumped over her desk I headed back to cancel the import papers for the bike.
Oh how I laughed when I arrived back at my bike and discovered I had lost my keys. Once again Murphy came to the fore as I eventually found them at the last place I looked.
For some reason the Ecuadorian Customs was 20 Kms further on and when I got there once again I was the only customer.
They say things are sent to test us and standing for over an hour while an official talks to his mate is truly testing, especially when you have got out of bed extra early to complete 380 miles during the day.
I had no idea what to expect in Ecuador, I knew it was fairly well off comparatively as it is an attraction to retirees. I have to say that a long hard ride was the order of the day way up high into the mountains , but here was different. The vegetation was lush and the vista truly mindblowing in parts, I just wish I had had more time, obviously I am now going have to do the return journey taking more time once I have achieved my goal.
Getting into Quito seemed to take forever coming down into the city from way up high and actually travelling through the clouds.
I can honestly say that the traffic in Quito is the worst so far in that it didn't seem to move. Of course I might be biased having taken three hours to find my pre-booked hotel after a ten hour ride. I went to bed that night with a huge sense of achievement having covered over 4000 kms.
QUITO
