Cusco to Puno at Lake Titicaca

Leaving Cusco was obviously nescessary but one of the most difficult challenges thus far! It was an easy ride out of Cusco down hill and what ensued was a fairly problem free day though jam packed full of local attractions. We took refuge from the baking midday sun in the reasonably interesting Rumicolca ruins, a pre Inca, Huari Empire aqueduct. We had lunch (a very reasonably priced bowl of chicken soup) in a small seemingly sleepy town called Andahuaylillas. We felt we were obliged to take a wander around the local colonial church, a surprisingly impressive building but all in all not a huge amount to offer other than a peaceful venue at which we could rest our weary legs and let our food digest. A long afternoon slog found us once again in a slightly panicked state as the weather began to take a turn for the worst and there was no obvious place to camp...so we improvised. In a relatively small crevice in one of the surrounding mountains we made our home for the night, not well concealed by the road but with plenty of foliage to create a militaryesque camp. A decent fire this time ensured that our mouths were fed with another mouth-wateringly exquisite pasta dish.

Our first thoughts in the morning were, "let´s get the hell out of here", as dawn revealed that we had in fact camped in what can only be described as a roadside lavatory, being surrounded by soiled loo paper. A recent habit we have picked up has been pedalling a hefty 20km before breakfast, which not only means that there is very little faffing around post camp, but also seems to make the entire day a whole lot more productive. We broke fast at a roadside cafe´, or at least Peru´s equivalent. Still making very good time for the day, we stumbled across yet more ruins to whet our appetites. Temple Wiracocha and the "Ruins of Racqui" seemed like the perfect place to refuel. The ruins were quite fun and the main event, the Temple, was a large barn-like structure, a huge wall which once supported a sloping roof either side, surrounded by the remains of what appeared to be a small housing estate. Wanting to squeeze every Soles out of our visit to the ruins we meandered around the small man made lake and felt priviledged to wash our hands in a spring reserved only for the local priests (of that time of course). I could not help thinking though, as with most of the Inca sites or pre Inca sites we have seen, this bathing area hardly measures up to, say the Roman equivalent, more than 1000 years earlier. Perhaps I am alone here, but considering these Inca ruins are a mere 500 years old, they are not all that impressive; architecture the Ancient Egyptians would have considered laughable. However, ruins are ruins, and everyone enjoys feasting their eyes upon the remains of what was once a bustling and vivacious, intriguing civilization. So, our cultural boots filled, we had a very tasty chicken burger and were treated to a typically local Andean rendition of Obladi Oblada on a wooden flute, followed by a duet to the tune of Hey Jude. A couple of interesting choices from a plethora of Beatles numbers.

Before we left we consulted the map and decided to aim for the ´Aquas Calientes´, or hot springs. Spotting this on the map provided us with substantial glee and we set off from the ruins at a devastating pace. Little did we know, the altitude was slowly creeping up on us and as we approached the springs, we had to endure arguably our least fun 10km stretch. Both of us were painfully chugging up and up another familiar winding road. It was late in the day, a nasty head wind had kindly greeted us and there was still no sign of these "really awesome volcanic springs". Morale took a considerable bashing before being reverted to a staggeringly high state on arrival at the springs. This was amazing. We were a touch anticipant as we were unsure whether or not the place would stay open after 5pm but were pleasantly surprised to learn that this bizarre complex was open for the night, and even better, we were allowed to stay on the grounds. We pursuaded the security guard, as the heavens opened, to allow us to sleep inside on of the buildings. The following few hours were to be our best so far. Nothing could have pleased us more than sliding into a steaming hot pool and curing all of our aches and pains amassed from a gruelling 900 miles of cycling. In our "room" we even had our own big bath tub full of exquisite larva heated water. Our neighbours for the night were a group of very friendly Brits, and an American, travelling by tuk tuk as part of some Mongol Rally-esque race through South America. 60 tuk tuks in total are taking part and not surprisingly since we left Cusco, there has been a steady stream of enthusiastic tuk tuks beeping past us. It is fairly tough seeing these guys effortlessly demolish the same route we are on in a motorised vehicle as we puff and pant through the aggressive heat but ammenities such as the springs are appreciated by us in a far more loving manner.

We got kicked out at around 7 and after a refreshing walk and an emotional goodbye to the springs we set off for what was to be a record-breaking day. The first part of the morning was horrible as we climbed our last mountain pass (we hope) and the thin mountain air provided us with no cover from the penetrating sun as we reached the pass at 4338 metres. We had a relaxing break here and enjoyed the company of a couple of very friendly and amusing Llamas and a nice looking, friendly dog, an extreme rarity in these parts. We made some incredible progress mainly thanks to the abscence of ferocious winds and a relatively flat stretch of road. We had done a staggering 80km before lunch and we arrived at a place called Ayavari and were rewarded with a delicious plate of noodles, vegetables and some rasberry jelly for dessert.


Rapidly making progress now, we came across yet more ruins. We found these in a very small a peculiar town called Pucara where we bedded down for the night. More pre-Inca ruins and more musings over these bizarre civilisations and decidedly unfair comparisons with the Romans left us once again feeling satisfied and delighted that we, as cyclists, are able to come across these interesting places and have such impotent debates; not to mention our immense satisfaction at our own record-breaking 123km day.

This stretch of road is what we imagine the majority of Bolivia to be like...Long, straight, gently undulating, long, sparse, windy, long, straight but surprisingly not boring, thanks to our vigorous pace on the terrain. Again, we managed about 70kms befor we stopped in Juliaca for lunch. This was a miserable experience. The city was loud and fast-paced but we managed to navigate our way to a fast food shop, just whatwe were looking for if we were to make Puno in good time. It definately did not do what it said on the tin. We waited an agonising 30 minutes for a very dissatifyingly tiny steak sandwich and they even managed to serve us coconut ice cream, despite specifically pointing at the sumptuous vanilla and chocolate chip. Anyway, we left with just enough fuel for the 40km stretch to Puno. The road went on and on and on and on and on, a seemingly endless pedal to our destination. With 15kms left we were getting excited that with another big day behind us, we would soon be indulging in some decent fodder and a deserved rest day. Our arrival in Puno was later than expected, thanks to yet another bloody hill to cycle up whilst being laughed at by packed out passing buses as we painfully snailed our way up whilst occasionally losing balance and toppling in slow motion onto the verge.

Puno has been good to us. The first thing we did was, no not sleep, but take a short tuk tuk ride to the Yavari, a steam ship on Lake Titicaca, partly because we wanted a glimpse of the awesome lake, the highest navigable lake in the world, and partly because we are both somewhat admirers of the late Fred Dibnah, and i´m sure he would have been proud of our enthusiasm for this old steam boat, made in Liverpool in 1862 and transported disassembled to the shores of northern Chile. From there it undertook a 6 year journey to Lake Titicaca "Over the Andes the Hard Way" haha. It is now almost in working order thanks to an Englishwoman´s drive for its restoration. We had an out of hours tour of the boat, and although it is not exactly a commanding inhabitant of the lake, it´s story and engine are both staggering and well worth our donation of 10 Soles. We thought we would relax for the night and spent most of it with Sandy and Harvey, a couple who kept us fairly well watered through the night which forced us to stay the following day, today. So we set off for Bolivia tomorrow and expect to cross the border in about 3 days via Copacabana.

Incidently, this will be our last blogathon from Peru, so we hope you have enjoyed the Peru chapter, and look forward to updating you from Bolivia.

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