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Published: October 22nd 2009
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Turning to Ayacucho at last
Turning not to be missed, off the Pan Americano and into the Andes. Something we forgot to mention on the last blog was that on arriving at Lima, we decided that the most suitable route we should take to Ayacucho slightly differed from the one illustrated on the map...Instead, we shot down the coast, and headed into the Andes just south of Chincha. We have since added a map showing this route.
We left Chincha later than planned (again) and managed about 20kms before darkness loomed and set up camp again about 100 metres off the road, out of sight, in another desert envioronment. We had much cycling to do the following day. We were relieved when we came to the turning off the Pan Americano, as now we really felt like we were going places. We made seriously good progress and as we saw the Andes looming, we were growing ever more nervous and excitedly anticipant. About 90kms into the day, it was starting to get dark, and there did not seem to be any suitable sites to pitch the tent. Fortunately we came across a couple of buildings and asked in our limited Spanish whether we could camp somewhere on their land...They insisted that we stayed in a small shed, which
The Skull
As the mountains grew bigger around us, we noticed this in the mountain side, and were a little bit anxious... we happily shared with several large sacks of grain. They fed us very well and we set off the following day with an even bigger climb ahead.
The heat the following day was less than comfortable. As we stopped for lunch, our bike computer informed us that the temperature was about 48 degrees, but fortunately there was a gentle tail wind aiding our ascent. A swim in a suitable pool in the river and some pineapple for lunch soon freshened us up however this was very short lived. The remainder of the day was miserable. Up and up and up and up. We seemed to be making no distance yet exerting every ounce of energy we had. We finally came across a gas station just outside a town called Huaytara and decided to stock up for our stove. Here we were met with a fair bit of interest, partly due to the oddly shaped football strapped to the back of one of our bikes. We were also met by the first English speaking person we had come across since Lima. He is a lawyer working for a company who are builing a trans Andes gas pipeline. He was
On a timer...
One of the few photos we have of the two of us, for obvious reasons. thrilled with what we were doing, as his father was a champion cyclist and he was in his youth, the Sebastian Coe of Peru. Kindly he bought us supper and a Cervesa and parted us with some words of wisdom about the looming 4700m peak and a request to cycle a little with us after Cusco, to lake Titicaca. Sleeping was not so rustic this night, as we stayed in a cheap Hotel guarded by a spitting Llama. We left the hotel terrified of the first mountain pass of our journey, the Abra Apacheta, a whopping 4700m. As we neared the pass, the roads were getting steeper and our energy levels were running low, partly due to the altitude. We could not resist at opportune moments desperately grabbing the rear of a slow-moving truck to aid our ascent, but this was both periodic and short-lived, as there is a limit to how long ones left arm can keep hold of a ragged piece of metal.
We could not help noticing that a storm was chasing us up the mountain and every now and then a hefty rumble would meet our ears and spurn us on ever faster to the
top. Hurridly we approached the pass at exactly the same time the storm arrived. So after a quick snap for proof, we began shooting down the other side. The storm enveloped us and forced us to halt after only a few hundred metres to quickly reassess our options. We decided the only way was down, but as we were digging into our snow-soaked paniers for arctic clothing, a bus pulled over in fornt of us and two Peruvians bundled our bikes into the hold and rammed us on board without question. From here they took us all the way down to Ayacucho, and every metre we descended, we could not help feeling angry at these Peruvians for stealing the first bit of deserved downhill from us, and making us pay 10 Soles for it. So here we are, Ayacucho, a fairly large colonial town full of Peruvian tourists and the expected volume of traffic and excessive use of car horns. We came across a great Restaurant/Hotel/Cafe, Via Via Cafe, where we were treated to an expert assessment of the next stage of our route, which sounds erm, hard. Eta to Cusco, 7/8 days, though we may have internet access before
that. But for now, we had better go and give our bikes a good service and prepare for the next stage.
WARNING: ALTITUDE SHOULD NOT BE TAKEN LIGHTLY. SIMPLE TASKS SUCH AS BREWING A CUP OF TEA ABOVE 4000M IS NOT RECOMMENDED FOR THE UNACCLIMITAISED. Ross, on several occasions nearly became very friendly with the verge along side the road.
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Tot: 0.079s; Tpl: 0.013s; cc: 8; qc: 49; dbt: 0.0432s; 1; m:domysql w:travelblog (10.17.0.13); sld: 1;
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clare sawers
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Fantastic!
Wonderful photographs, great script - I feel a book coming on! Keep going - I am enjoying being an armchair cyclist. xxx