Peru - a funny old place

Entering Peru was a bit of a shock after the varied and generally colourful landscapes of Colombia and Ecuador. As soon as we crossed the mountainous border into the north, we dropped down to the coastal desert, which stretches all the way down the country to the West of the Andes. Frankly, it's a bleak, sunblasted and windblown place, the monotony of the endless sand landscapes being livened up only by the frequent piles of landfill at the side of the Pan American Highway, and the occasional semi-ruined shack or building. The towns in this region, which are well off the beaten tourist trail, can best be described as 'real'. No complaints, though; it's all part of the whole 'adventure motorcycling' thing. It's there to be ridden through, so you get the whole experience, warts and all.

We spent four days working our way down through the desert, with the occasional foray up into the Andes, towards the more obvious tourist areas of Nasca and Cusco/Macchu Pichu.

Standout moments:

Huanchaco

So we ride 200 miles through barren, wind lashed desert, and suddenly arrive in a small seaside town, complete with a pier that looks like it's been transported plank by plank from a medium sized British resort. There's a thick mist rolling in off the Pacific, and coach loads of Peruvian tourists wearing kagools are squinting out to sea. I thought we had taken a wrong turn somewhere, and ended up in Skegness. Possibly the most surreal moment of the whole trip so far.

Nasca lines

Symbols etched into the desert between 300 BC and 700 AD (allegedly) that can only be discerned from above, eg from an aeroplane or spacecraft. Drawn by aliens? Drawn by the Peru tourist board? Drawn by the CIA in an attempt to destabilise the government? Drawn by an ancient civilisation hoping that the gods would send them rain/fertility/plasma tvs? You decide...

Macchu Picchu

'nuff said. However, the fact that we had to approach it on the standard gringo-stuffed backpacker trains/coaches etc reminded us just how lucky we are to be travelling around by motorbike, largely free of the tourist trail, and the attendant sensation of being shepherded around like bloated western cash cows. Most days on the bike, we take the route notes and a map and ride by ourselves, occasionally bumping into other members of the group along the road. There's no better way to travel, as you can stop and see whatever takes your fancy along the way, and have snacks in 'proper' local places, where they are always curious about the bike and what we are up to. More or less no English is spoken, so it's great Spanish practice.

More Peru to come over the next few days, before the Chile border.

Nos vemos!

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