Cochabamba (Bolivia) to Nazca (Peru)

Frequently Asked Questions

People often ask me, ¨Where are you from?¨
¨Inglaterra? England? David Beckham,
Aaah your prime minister, Mister Tony Blair...¨
Perhaps somewhat prematurely,
The political conversation usually ends there.

People often ask me, ¨Isn´t your journey really tough?¨
But the slow, sweaty, squeeze
With my fellow commuter ants
Was harder than cycling the Americas
With just two pairs of pants.

People often ask me, ¨How much does your bike cost?¨
As their bike probably cost less than my spokes,
Evasively I answer that it was a present from my folks.

People often ask me, ¨Why are you still single?¨
Well I guess at cocktail parties
I find it hard to mingle.

People often ask me, ¨Isn´t your bottom incredibley sore?¨
To which I politely reply
This is saddle number four.

People often ask me, ¨Hey gringo, why are you in such a hurry?¨
I explain that I´ve got to get back to Tooting as I really need a curry.

I have done it. I have broken the last taboo and committed an act of poetry on my blog. I hope that you can find the compassion in your hearts to forgive me. I blame elevated levels of oxygen. After descending from the Altiplano have spent the last week or so edging my way along the Peruvian coastline. The fresh Pacific breeze has fuelled my fertile imagination. It was probably inevitable.

Has been very different riding alongside the Pacific, like floating around inside a pale Rothko. It is off season and at the end of the day I drift into small quiet resort towns, a bit like Scarborough in February, just locals milling around against a pale grey background.

A couple of days ago in the small town of Chala met Neil, a fellow Newcastle supporter from Hebdon. He is cycling south down the Pan-American highway aiming to get to Ushuaia, Argentina next January. Normally you meet people going the other way in the middle of absolutely nowhere so it was good to be able to spend a couple of hours talking with a fellow biker from the north east, eat some fish and chips and discuss over a couple of beers our respective all-time favourite Newcastle United first XI.

Another taboo to go is guinea pig. In Arequipa I met up again with my friend Eduardo. Three years ago I did a three week mountain bike trip to Peru (it was a brilliant trip organised by UK company Redspokes and was one of the things that persuaded me to try and cycle to Alaska, see redspokes.co.uk for more information. Hello also to John, Julian, Peter, Nicky and, of course, el jefe Senor Dermot).

Anyway, Eduardo was the Peruvian guide, we kept in touch and it was fantastic to meet up with him and his family again. I went around to his Mum's house for lunch and whilst they all tucked into barbequed beef I got a whole fried guinea pig.

Apparently inside the ear of the guinea pig there is a bone that looks like a fox. The idea is to have a competition with your fellow diners and see who can find the fox first. Didn't do that well on the head though and have to confess that Eduardo's dog very gratefully found the fox (used to be a vegetarian for about a year before this trip too, oh well).

Also found another very good bike mechanic, Olger, in Arequipa picked up a new saddle, got some new handlebar tape. So, touchwood, bike in pretty good shape at the moment (Olger's details Calle Villalba 414, Cercardo, Arequipa email Mario-ortiz@terra.com.pe).

Working backwards (why not?) from Arequipa.

Enjoyed the 3 day ride next to the railway line across the Andes from Puno down to Arequipa. Lots of spectacular scenery and at the top of the 4,500 metre pass I spot a freight train gloriously charging along. Splendid.

Found the ride around Lake Titicaca a bit of a mixed bag. There is a really nice 40km bit just before Copacabana. Copacabana itself is very very touristy, only stayed one night before pushing on.

Also found the ride across the Bolivian altiplano quite depressing. Rode through a lot of very, very poor villages where it is clear that people don't have very much at all. Didn't feel threatened or intimitated, just sad.

Whilst buying the standard fried egg sandwich in a little village one teenage boy gave me the kind of insolent kind of stare that only teenage boys are capable of whilst his friend asked me for some money. But surely rule number one in running a sucessful street gang must be, if you are going to procure funds by using intimidation, don't wear a hat that makes you look like Noddy's best friend.

The one thing that they have a lot of on the Bolivian Altiplano was politics. Evo Morales' name is splashed on every wall and on rocks next to the highway. I really hope that he can repay the amazing level of confidence and that everyone has in him and do a good job for Bolivia.

Skirted around La Paz. Capital cities not really my bag on a bike. Checked into a fairly reasonable looking hotel near the airport and was fortunate enough to chance across two hours of the second series of Lost on the cable. Did not move. Dinner was peanut butter licked out of jar with my fingers.

Anyway paid my $50 and am going to have a 35 minute flight over the Nazca lines tomorrow morning, see the hummingbird, monkey etc etched into the sand by someone with some very good long-term ideas about tourism. Then its back into the mountains in order to circumvent Lima.

Finally the standard pro-forma reminder that I am riding to raise money for Medecins Sans Frontieres. Please visit my website for more details about MSF and how to sponsor me, either over the net or by post.

Push on

Tim

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