Back on the road!

---

On the 27th September, after a very busy three weeks in France, with a side trip to Spain, we flew back to Cayenne in French Guyana. We had a nice surprise when the airline company had to make a change to our flight which meant that we got to spend a night in a relatively posh hotel in Martinique before taking a connecting flight to Cayenne. It was very nice winding down in the hotel pool after the long flight and then going on to a complementary evening meal. Only problem was, with the time difference and the fatigue from our rushing around in France I was pretty much falling asleep at the table over dinner.

In the short time we were in Martinique we didn’t get to see much of the island, which seemed very green as we flew over it. In this tropical environment it was quite strange to see the French shopping centres and road names which we passed on the way from the airport to the hotel reminding us that this island, far from mainland France is actually a French department (county). I was more convinced it was France however the following morning when it took us an hour and a half in the airport minibus to cover the short distance to the airport because of some serious traffic jams. We nearly missed the connecting flight. For a moment I thought we were back in Paris!

From the airport in Cayenne we directly telephoned one of the minibuses that serve as expensive public transport in Guyana to pick us up and take us to the Brazilian border. The guy said he’d be over in less than an hour, three hours later we were still waiting!

Finally we got in another minibus and set off on the 2 hour journey to the border town St. Georges. On the way we had to stop at a check-point run by some white, sun burnt, French Policemen in a 'normalish' police uniform with the tiniest tight grey regulation police shorts. It took all our willpower not to laugh or make a remark as we showed our passports. It would have made a good photo. A poor old woman had to get out the minibus after a bit of a stir when she didn’t have any ID papers but eventually they let her off as she was heading out the country anyway.

The border between Guyana and Brazil is marked by a river so after the minibus ride we had to jump in a little motor boat to cross the river and go a little upstream to the Brazilian border town. It was quite surreal to find ourselves travelling up the river in a small wooden, leaking motorboat with lush vegetation on each riverbank and the sun setting around us. All this after being so recently in the modern, busy, material world of Paris and the air conditioned, clean, white, sterile airports. We both sat silently soaking in the atmosphere and enjoying the feeling of the wind on our faces. We’re back!

Over on the Brazilian side we made or way to the Police to get another stamp for our growing collection and then, after establishing that the last bus had already left for Macapa, we found a little hotel and went for a wander round. On the way we met a Guyannais who was making the journey to Macapa just for a long weekend as, according to him, Cayenne is just too boring. I was surprised as it is a long trip to Macapa, involving, for him, two all night runs in taxis on a bad road. It seemed a bit excessive for the weekend but he insisted that for the fiesta it is definitely worth it. Ah, Brazil is a very appealing place to party, especially for single men with money!

The following day we caught the bus for a 10 hour ride to Macapa where we stayed one night before heading down to the port at Santa Ana, just 15km or so away. From here we could get another boat to travel the Amazon stretch between Belem and Manaus which we had done by plane before. We’d planned to take the boat because we’d spent far too much money on the way and we were trying to go for the economical option. Unfortunately though, although a little cheaper than the planes, the boats all cost far more than we were expecting, partly because the journey is upstream in this direction, meaning more petrol and partly because only one company runs the line so they have the monopoly. After much negotiating we got on the boat which was already full and ready to leave.

The boat was much smaller than the last one we took from Porto Velho to Manaus and was crammed full of people so we were quite relieved to find a little space we could squash into near the end of the boat. The established technique to cram lots of hammocks into a small place is to put them alternatively high and low so you can swing under or over your neighbour a little. There was even a hammock bunk bed style to be observed on this boat with the child sleeping in his hammock hung over that of his mum. I was definitely not having Edouard hung above me after the last 'string snapping' episodes on the other boat. (He’d bought a new stronger hammock but I still wasn’t risking it.) Anyway we hung our hammocks in the cosy spot and settled in waiting for the boat to start. And then we were off...nightmare, our spot was less crowded because we were right next to the loudest motor ever and for two days, two nights we had constant motor noises drumming in our ears!! Arghh! I spent the whole time with ear plugs, not that that did much good.

Fortunately when we arrived in the port of Santarem, midway to Manaus, we changed boats, because our small boat was stopping there, and boarded a much bigger, more spacious boat for the rest of the journey. At least in this boat we could enjoy the magnificent Amazon scenery in relative peace.

When we arrived in Manaus we found that due to water levels being even lower than they were when we set out, 6 weeks earlier, there were very few boats going to Porto Velho and we’d have to wait several days for the next one. We’d had enough of the boats and so we didn’t need much more persuasion to get on Internet and book a cheap flight to Porto Velho. At this point we were quite impatient to get back to Cusco and our bikes. So, after a 1 and a half hour flight that saved us 5 days (or possibly more if the boat had problems) we landed in Porto Velho and from there did the same bus / shared taxi route (two nights, one day nonstop back to Cusco)

We arrived in Cusco, exhausted and feeling rough, especially me as I’d been sick all night on the overnight bus back from Porto Maldonaldo, surely because of the altitude. After spending 6 weeks at sea level, the bus had taken us straight back up over a pass at 4000m, the rough road and the back seat in the bus not helping matters! Even in Cusco we didn’t feel top for the first few days as our bodies adapted to the thinner air. However we were really happy to be back in this stunning town and to be reunited with Luis and our bikes.

After a few days in Cusco, acclimatising, doing a few short bike rides and enjoying some relaxing time in this beautiful town it was time to get back on the road. After calculating the weeks we had left for Peru, Ecuador and Columbia we realised that we didn’t have time to cycle all the way and see everything we wanted to see so we’d have to prioritise. The immediate conclusion being that we would take the bus to our next destination Huaraz in the middle of Peru and cycle from there. To get to Huaraz we had to take two buses, changing in Lima, so as we had to wait all afternoon for the second bus we got to have a quick peak at the capital.

In the evening we took the night bus from Lima that wound up steep mountain roads and arrived early in the morning in the town of Huaraz. At 3100m in altitude Huaraz has a spectacular setting at the foot of the Cordillera Blanca, the second highest chain of mountains after the Himalayas. The town itself was quite ugly as it had been hastily rebuilt after a terrible earthquake that destroyed most of it in the 1970s however the mountains around were stunning. West of Huaraz and the Cordillera Blanca there is another less spectacular mountain range called the Cordillera Negra that protects the Cordillera Blanca from the rain and wind which means that the latter stay majestically snowcapped all year round. In the climbing season Huaraz is full of climbers from all over the world who come to test themselves against these impressive mountains, many over 6000m, but as we were at the end of the good weather climbing season the town was quieter. However we were really lucky because the morning we arrived the weather was beautiful and the views splendid, apparently the first clear days for a long time.

As we were pretty tired and achy from two night buses we spent a really therapeutic day around Huaraz, cycling out of town to the next village where there were some natural hot springs. We had a swim in a huge, warm swimming pool and then a soak in a private hot bath; it was just what we needed.

The following day we left Huaraz and cycled north along the Rio Santo in the green Callejón de Huaylas Valley that runs 200km (125 miles) right down the middle of the two Cordilleras, Blanca and Negra. It was great cycling as it was mostly downhill, with views of the green cultivated fields in the foreground and the mountains in the background. In the late afternoon, what a hardship, we arrived at another village with hot springs and again had a relaxing swim and soak. I could do with that everyday!

Another beautiful day followed and we decided to make a detour off the main road and along gravel tracks climbing up the side of the valley to get closer to the snowcapped peaks around. We passed through some really traditional little hamlets where people came out to stop and stare in beautiful traditional dress. The scenery seemed so idealic with the green cultivated fields, the rolling hills and the mountains behind. This and the tranquility of the smiling people masked the hard work it must be to make a living on this difficult land.

In the afternoon we cycled back down to join the main route through the valley and continued to another quaint little town where we spent the night. Unknown to us it was market day the next day and so the town was full of noise and colour as we emerged out of the hotel in the morning. The indigenous people from the villages around had come in their best traditional dress to trade and socialise. It was a huge really interesting market and a great place to people watch.

Towards the end of the morning we continued on our bikes down the valley to arrive around lunchtime in a town called Yungay has a really tragic history, an earthquake in 1970 shook the mountain Huascarán causing a huge block of ice to fall off creating in turn a huge landslide which, advancing at 300km and hour, completely buried the town killing almost all the 22000 inhabitants. A new town has been built near to the old buried town, its was difficult for me to imagine why people would want to rebuild in the same area given the past disaster but maybe the people were sure that the same thing could not happen again or maybe they just feel they have no choice but to stay on the land where they were born.

We considered stopping in Yungay as I was feeling rough with a slight fever, but the new town was quite ugly and we couldn’t find a decent place to stay so we decided to push on to the nearby colonial village of Caraz. After a night with more fever and some bad bowel movements in the morning I decided to head to the docs. I was pretty sure it was a stomach infection as I had already had the same thing in Bolivia which generally means a blood test and then some antibiotics. Asking at the hotel we were told that the only doctors in town work at the hospital which is where everyone goes for consultations, so off we went.

The poverty in the area is no more apparent than in the hospital. The place was full of red-eyed zombied mothers with crying babies, small children running in and out the consultation rooms, lost looking old folks, people with old dirty slings and almost everyone wearing very old clothes. People were waiting for appointments everywhere and for long periods yet there very few seats, no water in the loos and general disorganisation with patients files. After paying a derisory sum and waiting for a long time for my number to come up I was called to the doctor's room, not to have the consultation yet but just to be weighed and measured and to have my blood pressure taken by an assistant. The only thing separating me from the patient who was with the doctor at the time was on old partly-drawn curtain so I could hear everything about the problems of the other patient. Whilst all this was happening other people were also bursting through the open door to ask questions, to bring in X rays for the doctor, to try to jump the queue etc. The poor assistant was constantly trying to fend people off.

When it was my turn to see the doctor he listened vaguely to my complaint while glancing at some X rays then wrote a quick prescription to have a blood test. He'd pretty much already come to the conclusion that I had a specific virus common to the region even though I clearly didn’t have most of the symptoms. After another long wait in the laboratory surrounded by urine samples I had my blood test (don’t worry they always use new needles, that's what you pay for) and was told to come back in the afternoon. So after resting in a our hotel we made the journey back to the hospital after lunch to be told that results are never ready in one day and the person who had told us to come back had gone home.

The next morning we returned to the chaos and found a new stressed doctor had replaced the one there the day before. This one observed the results, did a proper examination and informed me that I did have a stomach infection- a type of Typhoid. The treatment he prescribed was two weeks antibiotics and no cycling but I felt this was a bit overdramatic as I was only a little ill and didn’t have the symptoms of 40 degree fever and muscle pains and more that are associated with the full blown illness. Also I'd already had the same thing in Bolivia and only taken 5 days of antibiotics. I was going to mention this to the doctor when a large drunk / mad man burst through the curtain, completely interrupting, and began harassing the doctor with his problems. Clutching the prescription we said goodbye to the embarrassed looking doctor and made a swift exit! The state of Health Care for the local people in small villages is really terrible. It’s good that it is so cheap but it’s really badly organised and the poor doctors are so harassed that they just can’t give the attention needed to patients. We don't realise how lucky we are in Europe.

I took the antibiotics as prescribed and after another days rest was soon feeling well enough to continue on the bike. So we set off with the intention of taking it easy for a few days, which we thought wouldn't be too difficult as the road was mostly downhill as we were heading to the coast.

A short distance out of the town the land became drier and dustier and we arrived in the Canyon del Pato a gorge with steep vertiginous sides carved by the Rio Santo on its way to the sea. The canyon is famous for its tunnels, 36 in total, that allow the road to continue when the walls of the valley meet the river. Going through the tunnels was quite scary as it was pitch-black inside some of the larger ones and the unsealed road was in bad condition with lots of hidden rocks. Our torches made a very pathetic attempt of lighting up the way so we were almost cycling blind at times. Thankfully it was a special Sunday: national census day when the Peruvians are not officially allowed to leave their house as they wait to be counted. This meant there wasn’t much traffic on the roads and we didn’t meet anything big in the tunnels.

In the evening, after the 36th tunnel, we arrived at a very small traditional village where the only guest house was very basic indeed. We would have preferred to camp than sleep on the small old, musty flea ridden (?!) beds but the locals insisted we stayed because they were in need of the money. It turned out to be alright in the end and we spent a pleasant evening sitting just outside the guesthouse door admiring the mountain views and watching the young people of the village transform the only road into a volley ball court for their evening entertainment.

The next day we set off on what we thought would be an easy downhill stretch along the river Santos to the coast. However, what with a terrible road and a storming headwind blowing dust into our faces the cycling was quite torturous. The scenery was really impressive but by 3pm when we stopped at the only drink stop we'd come upon all day we were quite exhausted. So when the friendly owner suggested we stay in their spare room it didn’t take us long to decide to accept and we spent a pleasant evening chatting with him and his wife. Setting of very early the next day to avoid the wind, we soon reached the asphalt, which was a relief after the terrible rocky road, and had an enjoyable ride through small villages and cultivated land to the Pacific Ocean and the busy Pan-American Highway.

Soon after we arrived in Trujillo, the city where Peruvian independence was declared and the third most populous city in Peru after Lima and Arequipa. We enjoyed wandering round the pedestrian areas of the city centre and an afternoon at a nearby beach resort watching the surfers. It was very strange to be on the beach after having been in the mountains only a couple of days ago.

From Trujillo to Macara, the border with Ecuador, was pretty much all busy roads, deserts and a few dodgy towns in one of which another cyclist had apparently been pushed of his bike and had everything stolen. With this in mind we took the bus and didn’t regret it as we passed through kilometres and kilometres of desert. Arriving at the border it was stifling hot and we had to wait a while as the police tried to tell us that we hadn’t get the correct entry stamp and may have to return to where we entred Peru in the Amazon to sort it out!! As it turned out none of the 5 foreigners on the bus had the 'correct stamp' and we'd entered at three different borders. It seems this was just a farce to get us to pay a fine. However after a bit of nifty negotiating they ´let us off´and we were able to pass without donating beer money to the police.

Our first stop in Ecuador was the charmingly calm mountain town of Catacocha where to our great surprise the local kids rushed to give us sweets instead of asking for them! The town had some really colourful 19 century adobe houses, a pretty town square, a small lively market and smiling people. We decided we were going to like Ecuador. At first though, it was strange to use the local money which is the American dollar. This currency was bought in as a drastic measure in 1999 to replace the unstable 'Sucre' At the time there was a lot of protest as people made huge losses when they changed their money to the dollar at inflated rates but now things seem to have calmed down.

From Catacocha at 1800m altitude we cycled along the ridges of the mountains on an extremely 'up and down' road with huge views into the distance before descending into the green and fertile valley of Loja. Loja is one of the oldest and most cultured of Ecuador's cities and was full of beautiful colonial buildings. The town was a hive of activity when we arrived with people overflowing the pavements in town and a bread festival (stalls all selling bread and a delicious warm blackberry fruit drink) in the main square. However by the time we'd had a look around and found a reasonable hotel it was much quieter everywhere except the main square. We found in Ecuador in general that everyone disappears after 8pm.

From Catacocha we headed to Cuenca, the third largest city in Ecuador know for it's towering cathedrals, whitewashed colonial buildings, colourful balconies and cobblestone streets. Here we went to a few museums, wandered round the city window-shopping and bought some amazing panama hats. Panama hats are in fact not made in panama but woven by hand in Ecuador. Toquila, the plant used to make the hats grows in Ecuador and although some other countries have tried growing the same plant the quality of the strands has never been the same. The name Panama hats (which the Ecuadorians are justifiable not pleased about!) only came about because the Spanish used to export the hats through Panama. We passed by a few hat makers and Ed tried some hats. There is a huge price range from 15 dollars to 500 dollars depending on the quality of the weave of the hat. Apparently you can roll a really good hat up, pass it through a ring and it will return to its original shape. In the end, although they were pretty expensive we were tempted and bought a couple of hats, one classic white one for Edouard and one gorgeous brown and cream one to send to Oz for Lucy's birthday. I had to use all my willpower not to keep it for myself! Whilst in Cuenca we caught the beginning of the cities three day festival with a parade of traditionally dressed locals in vehicles decorated with fruits giving out lots of different food and especially fruits to the crowds around. It was like a kind of harvest festival and was very popular with the crowds who were scrambling for the freebies. Of course it was the best dressed with the most money who were the most vicious scramblers!!

Since we'd been in Ecuador I'd been having a few niggling problems with my left knee which had been fine all the rest of the trip. It didn't seem to be anything serious just an overuse problem so from Cuenca we decided to head to Banos a town known for its curative hot springs to see if that could help (an excuse for more hot springs!) To avoid pushing my knee too hard on the mountainous and busy Pan-American road we took the bus as far as the turn off for Banos and then cycled the 40km on a quieter road to the town. On the way we admired the incredible Tungurahua volcano which was sending out huge clouds of black smoke as we cycled by. Its last serious eruption was in August 2006 when it sent a column of volcanic ash 8 kilometers into the sky and rained lava and hot rocks on the surrounding area. With this in mind we kept a close eye on it as we passed by.

Banos itself is located in a beautiful subtropical valley surrounded by chequered agricultural landscapes. As the area is great for all sorts of outdoor activities the town is quite touristy but we managed to find a nice little hostel run by an Ecuadorian-English couple. After dumping the bags and the bikes we had a quick bite to eat and then headed straight for one of the baths in town. The small complex was full of locals and tourists alike relaxing in the medicinal water, there were three pools, one cold, one really nice and warm and one very hot which we didn't mange to stay in long. The warm one was really pleasant as it was outdoors and just next to a huge natural waterfall. As well as their relaxing qualities, the baths are also really social places where it's easy to get chatting to the person next to you. We met quite a few holidaying Ecuadorians as well as some regulars during the evening. Needless to say after a day of bus, cycling and relaxing in the hot springs we slept very well!

Banos is also known as 'the door to the Amazon rainforest' as from Banos at around 1800m a road descends to a town called Puyo in the Amazon basin. We decided to pedal the 60km to Puyo the next day from where we planned to get a lift back up to Banos. The morning cycling was fabulous as we descended the 'ruta de las cascadas' (the waterfall road) along the picturesque valley full of waterfalls. We stopped for a short walk to see the most famous waterfall in Ecuador (El pailon del diablo) which although beautiful in the tropical surroundings probably wouldn't rate in my books as one of the 10 most impressive waterfalls in the world as the Ecuadorians claim.

Cycling on, as we descended in altitude the vegetation around became more lush and tropical with huge ferns and tropical flowers. However we didn't make it as far as Puyo because on reaching the small village of Rio Negro the sky turned dark and we were caught in a huge thunderstorm. Looking further down the valley we could see more dark, menacing black clouds so we decided to abandon mission and return to Banos where the weather was better and where the hot springs were waiting for us!

It was all blue skies the next morning so we set off on a hike around the mountains to see some little villages and to get some close up views of the volcano. The walk was great with really nice scenery but the volcano was hidden under a veil of thick clouds, the only ones in the sky. Still as we were closer we could here its constant rumbling which was impressive in itself.

In the afternoon, after another quick soak, we left Banos and headed a short distance to the nearby town of Latacunga where we only planned to stay the night before moving on. When we arrived though we found that almost all of the hotels were full because the following day it was the town's annual festival called the 'La Mama Negra'. After visiting around 8 hotels we eventually got the last room in a slightly pricier hotel that normal and managed to get inside just before another downpour.

Of course, we decided to stay for the festival and asked around to find out what it was all about. It seems the origins of the festival of La Mama Negra are a little obscure, but the general consensus is that the festival was established when the nearby Cotopaxi volcano erupted in 1742 and it seemed that Latacunga would be destroyed. The locals of the region prayed to the Virgin of Mercy, the patron saint of Cotopaxi, to save Latacunga. When the town escaped the wrath of the volcano, an annual celebration was set in place in the honor of the Virgin. At around the same time, African slaves were brought into the area to work in the mines. These black slaves made a huge impression on the local inhabitants, who incorporated their arrival into the festival of La Mama Negra - the Black Mother.

The streets were full of crowds on the morning of the fiesta as people came from the towns around to party. As in Bolivia and Peru the festival many consisted of a huge parade of dancers and music groups in traditional dress. The Latacunga parade was colourful and festive but not really as organised and traditional as the other parades we'd seen, as illustrated by the modern addition of the Camisonas, colourfully dressed transvestites with whips, very popular with the crowds. The emphasis was clearly less on dancing and more on drinking with all the participants clutching bottles of strong alcohol which they distributed freely among the spectators (the pretty girls getting the most). The parade finished with 'La Mama Negra' , a fat man with his face blackened, passing on horseback to much cheering from the crowds. By this time, even though it was only 3pm, there were a lot of drunken casualties on the streets.

Later in the afternoon, whilst wandering through the streets, we came across a live Salsa and Cumbia concert. There were quite a few people dancing in the street so we stopped to watch for a moment and were soon offered some peach wine by a young couple from a town nearby. Well, inevitably we soon got caught up in the fiesta and spent the evening dancing and drinking wine with the Ecuadorians. It was really a great atmosphere with everyone dancing with everyone and having a good time. Funnily enough everything starts early and finishes early in Equator so the party started around 5pm and was pretty much finished at 10pm. Halfway through the evening I accompanied a new Ecuadorian friend to find some loos and we went into a nightclub which was full to bursting of people dancing techno at 8.30pm in the evening. It's even earlier than England.

With slightly sore heads the next morning we filled up with a typical Ecuadorian breakfast of chicken and rice (the staple for breakfast, lunch and dinner) and then went to the bus station to get the bus to Quito (we had decided bus was better as the road into the capital was pretty dangerous and my knee still wasn't top). When we arrived we found the queue for Quito snaking round the whole bus station, it was incredible. Fortunately busses were leaving about every 10 minutes, so after an hour wait and a huge scramble to fight off queue jumpers and get into the bus we managed to secure a seat for ourselves with the bikes riding on the roof.

Arriving in Quito on Sunday afternoon the place was quite dead but we headed to the old town and found a nice place to stay. In the evening we wandered round and had a peak in a couple of the very impressive churches in the city. We only wanted a quick glimpse but ended up staying for almost the whole mass in the Inglesia San Fransisco as there was another huge thunderstorm.

Quito's historical centre (the old town) was really very beautiful, like Cuenca full of whitewashed colonial buildings. There had been a restoration project finished only in 2006 so we were lucky as the place seemed so shiny and clean. It's funny because most westerners would probably prefer to live in the charming old town but most Ecuadorians prefer the new town which is full of modern buildings and huge shopping malls and not really very appealing (although to be fair there were some huge parks and the place seemed quite spacious, not too bad for a big city). The public transport system with buses and an eco tramway was pretty good and so we regularly travelled between the old and new city having a look around.

One of the most interesting places we visited was the Capilla del Hombre, a modern art museum showing the works of the Ecuadorian artist Guayasamin. All the paintings in the modern museum, sponsored by UNESCO amongst others, represented injustice, violence and poverty and although quite shocking were really cleverly done. In the roof was a circular painting showing skeleton like figures trying to escape the darkness round them through the skylight which is meant to represent the Miners in the Cerro Rico back in Potosi in Bolivia. There were many other paintings showing images from around the world. It was a great museum.

While we were in Quito we also had our wedding rings made in jewelers that we had first seen in Cuenca. The Cuenca shop is the main one but they also had a little branch in a posh hotel in Quito. We went to seek them out and the manger had already heard about us (two gringo cyclists after wedding rings) from the owner in Cuenca so they were really nice and helpful and got us the rings we wanted ordered and delivered in just a few days. They are now hidden on us at all times!!

Although we still had a lot more of Ecuador we could potentially see (we still had not crossed the Equatorial line which was just north of the town) we decided that with timings in mind we should head to Columbia of which we'd heard such great things). So we put the bikes in the bus, crossed to the northern hemisphere and travelled 5 hours to Tulcan on the Ecuadorian border, The scenery was stunning and we regretted not having enough time to do it on the bikes but not too much as that gives us an excuse to come back!

Anyway on that optimistic note I'll leave you as we have a whole new country to get out and explore!

Love to everyone (I don't imagine many people will have actually read this far!) and see you soon!

Rebecca.

Ps- Sorry no photos after Trujillo in Peru yet, we have a technical problem with the camera!!

---

Comments

[mat le gastronome]

gastro nomie
çà ne m'aurait pas trop plu la petite assiette de raw fish... je suis plus alpagua steack et petite soupe ;-)

[mat le mailer fou]

ah les gens ne sont vraiment pas sympas ! ils ne laissent pas de messages !!!