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Published: November 1st 2009
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As per usual, we left the hostel in Abancay later than expected and after a hearty lunch began our trip to Cusco. We were not expecting another hellish ascent in the sweltering heat, but this time we were relieved to be on tarmac once again. Some slow yet rewarding cycling culminated in another superb camping area. Hidden from the road by a cluster of small eucalyptis trees, we set up camp with ´Ray Mears´ Ross taking the time to construct a shelter from a bivvy and a few carefully cut pieces of wood, just incase it rained. It didn´t, and we had another pleasant evening with a fire and some delightful pasta and tomato sauce, with a sprinkle of mixed herbs and a few dabs of Tabasco sauce.
We were now desperate to get to our first main place of rest, Cusco so we set off at about 6am. We reached to top in good time and treated ourselves to some tasty energy boosting coca tea. Everywhere we looked were awesome snow-capped mountains which towered above our seemingly tiny position of about 4000m. So we started a long descent once more but this time it was tarmac, so we could
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Ray Mears bushcraft really make up time and smash some kilometres. However our elation did not last long, as we soon realised that the more we descended the harder the final leg to Cusco would be. As we went lower and lower, the heat intensified and we soon found ourselves in a deep canyon reminiscent of an American Western film with cacti littered everywhere and a muddy river running alongside us. Matters rapidly became worse as a deafening bang echoed round the canyon indicating a blow out on Ross´ rear tyre. We are pretty proficient by now at changing tyres and inner tubes, but what we were not expecting was to be rapidly engulfed by thousands of sand flies. They treated themselves to a years supply of our blood whilst we frantically changed the burst inner tube, only to pump up the next one and have another freak puncture. Still being burnt and eaten alive we changed the tyre and another inner tube, got pumping once more. 30 minutes and hundreds of bites later we set off deeper into the canyon with morale at an all time low. No less than 10 metres from the sand flies´lunch spot my chain broke (going downhill).
This happened 3 times in Wales on our practice run but was the first time in Peru, and it could not have broke at a more inappropriate time, though we provided the population of sand flies with a further afternoon snack. This was Ross´ forte and he got on with it and we were on our way in no time, still cursing whoever was responsible for these untimely breakages; frustratingly no one. Llimatambo was where we were aiming for but due to these breakages (another chain link about half an hour later), we realised we would not make it. A friendly man greeted us on the road just as the chain was being repaired for the second time and wondered whether we would like to camp on his front lawn. It really was a front lawn too, fairly small but in spanking condition so we were more than happy to finally have a bit of soft flat on which to pitch our tent. The couple were very friendly but the language barrier once again causing a few problems. They did however kindly allow us to use their cold outdoor shower. On returning from his shower Ross came across a creature
of extraordinary dimensions. What appeared to be an innocent lump of matter on closer inspection turned out to be a Tarantula. Terrified by its alarming proximity to our tent, we grabbed our cameras and informed the owner. We were shocked to discover his apparent terror on hearing the news and he swiftly set about grabbing his torch to frantically search for the now vanished creature. He was unsuccessful. That night we firmly zipped up the tent doors and the following morning double-checked our shoes.
We arrived at the very insubstantial Llimatambo early the next morning in time for breakfast after a gruelling gradual uphill ride of 18km in the penetrating heat once more. We nodded and smiled as the owner of the small restaurant presumably reeled off some options for food. We ended up with a rather interesting plate of trout, chips and rice. We were slightly sceptical of the quality of the fish due to the huge distance from the coast and the state of the local river, but regardless we munched away and left satisfied and also fully rehydrated. We set off for another session of pure uphill cycling. Thanks to some hard pedalling, another brief and
painful stint being dragged by a slow truck, and some more hard pedalling we made one more pass, a mere 3700m where we had lunch with another incredible view of some impressive mountains. Despite our apparent acclimatisation, cooking lunch was a bit of a struggle. The rest of the day was problem free and we bombed it down the mountain, Ross leaving me in his wake having tucked into the slip stream of a massive lorry, reaching speeds similar to those of Chris Hoy round the Beijing velodrome. Thinking we were to have one more camp before reaching Cusco, we were delighted to speak to a man who gave us some encouraging news, that Cusco was now a mere 20kms away, and that the route was apparently easy. He was half right. We arrived in Cusco 2 hours later ready for some R&R in a relieved but tired state thanks to another big day of 100kms. With haste we found a suitable hostel, Hostel Rojas, where we dumped our bikes and bags and headed out for a night of raucous relaxation.
We reluctantly leave tomorrow morning having treated ourselves to some familiar luxuries. Macdonalds has played a part in
our recuperation, along with plenty of Cervesas, both local and western, and some rather tasty pizzas, along with a session at the oche and a few games of pool. We also threw in a few tours of sight seeing. We wandered around the cathedral, apparently the second biggest in South America. Very impressive. We also wandered around Saqsaywaman and other neighbouring ruins. These too were very impressive. Large chunks of rockcarefully carved to slot perfectly together. Saqsaywaman was an Inca military base, though it seemed to me that they spent more time building the impressive base than training their soldiers.
Speaking to people in our native language has also been a slight breath of fresh air and most have been reasonably impressed with our trip, which is encouraging. Until our next installment, goodbye.
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aunty Boobs
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I am so proud to be your aunt!
So exciting - so brave and such an adventure...I love reading the blog..Keep on pedalling with all love and xxxxxxxxxx