From Anchorage to Ushuaia by Bike

You know, those little things that we’ve gotten use to... or not...

Since Anchorage, we’ve been noticing all the differences between the places we traveled through and our home country of France. It’s all part of what makes travel so interesting – discovering new cultures, customs, habits and ways of life. Some of the differences we have blogged about, some of them not, and here is a little overview, obviously only a sampling. It might seem like we’re complaining, but that’s not the idea. We’re just trying to give an account of how things are different here, based on what we’ve seen and experienced, and so is of course all relative to our own personal experiences and education in France.

The Bathrooms

In Canada and the US the bathrooms were clean, accessible and there was always toilet paper. In Mexico, like everywhere since then, things are a little different. There is never any toilet paper – it’s bring your own – and of course you can’t put it in the toilet because it clogs the pipes. You have to throw it in the little bin, right beside the toilet.

Pollution

Since Alaska the sides the road have been always covered in garbage, mostly plastic containers. In the US and in Canada there was a little less, but still a lot, and certainly much more than in France. We’ve seen people throw garbage out the windows of cars and buses in every country we’ve been through.

Since Mexico, the garbage is mostly disposed of by burning it outside since treatment facilities are too expensive.

Interestingly, the air pollution (at least what we could see and feel) was pretty low in Canada, Mexico, and especially in the US. We were surprised since the US is the highest atmospheric polluter in the world. We barely noticed any air pollution biking through Vancouver, San Francisco, Los Angeles and San Diego. So it’s easy to say that the perceived pollution in Paris is much greater. The explanation? It could be that the cities we passed through were all on the coast so that the air pollution is blown inland. Or maybe that the diesel engines in Europe discharge more noticeable air pollution than the gas-powered vehicles in North America.

The worst air pollution that we came across was in Mexico, where the perceived pollution was worse than in Paris. It was also bad along the roads in Guatemala and Ecuador, where we actually had to pull over more than once because the cars and trucks expelled huge black clouds of smoke.

Store Hours

Without getting into the Sunday shopping debate, in North America most stores are open most every day, most of the time. In Central America, there were some stores closed on Sunday, and generally they were open shorter hours. In Ecuador and Peru, about half the stores are closed on Sunday, and the hours of operation are maybe a little longer than in France.

Food and Eating Habits

We had some really delicious hamburgers in North America (not fast-food though). We noticed that many North Americans drink huge quantities of liquid and often carry around large mugs. In both North and Central America, people eat smaller meals and tend to snack a lot. In Ecuador and Peru, the three meals a day are bigger, and there’s not much room for snacking.

Everywhere we’ve been, sugary soft drinks are ubiquitous. Beer too, but there is barely any wine in Central America, Ecuador, or Peru.

Showers and Soap

In North America, we almost always had to buy tokens for the timed showers in the camp grounds. The “best” deal was US $5 for a 5 minute hot shower. Even if we turned the water off while lathering up, the time continued to run. In Central America, we barely even had hot water in the hotels. And in Ecuador and Peru, even though most places “guarantee” hot water, it’s a rare occurrence. Mostly, the water is heated by an electric water heater above the shower head, meaning that there is an electric current (110 or 220V) which courses only a few inches from our head while we are standing with our feet in the water. We’ve got a fair number of electric shocks when trying to set the temperature of the water, and most of the time, it’s lukewarm at best.

Also, the further south we go, the more difficult it is to find liquid shower gel. Most people use bar soap.

Air circulation and heat conservation

Since Mexico, it’s rare to see a closed door. In the restaurants in the Andes, those places with doors always leave them open. In the evening, when the temperatures dip almost to zero, you’d better not forget to bring your hat and scarf to the restaurant. And all the residents complain about the cold!

The Concept of Drinking Water

Since Mexico, the water that comes out of the tap is called drinking water, and although it’s rarely drinkable, the locals don’t seem to understand the difference. In Mexico, the water that people actually drank was filtered and there were constant deliveries of purified water. In the other countries, however, many people actually drink the tap water.

Clothes

Other than in the Andes where there were lots of people wearing traditional clothing, most people wear jeans and a T-shirt or over-shirt. The Western tourists are always clearly recognisable, though, sporting shorts and flip-flops, whatever the ambient temperature!

Manners and showing respect

In Central America, Ecuador, and Peru, we’ve noticed a certain amount of disrespect for personal space. It’s common to see elbowing and stepping on toes while waiting in lines. In stores, it’s often the person who came in last who is served first, or else whoever speaks loudest and with the most authority.

Racism, and changing definitions

We’ve been haunted by the term “gringo” since Tijuana. In Mexico and Central America there was a certain racist connotation to the word. It associated us with North Americans and reflected the imperial and colonial history of the past few centuries. We certainly had the opportunity to be on the receiving end of racism, and it was a very unpleasant experience. Even though in Ecuador and Peru the term is friendlier, referring to foreigners generally, it still bothers us, especially since we are called it all day long. It’s as if, in English, you were called “foreigner” all the time: “Hey, you, foreigner!” “Hey! Foreigner!” And of course, as soon as someone is trying to sell us something, it’s “amigo,” or “friend.”

On being cyclists on the road

In the US and in Canada, we were mostly ignored on the roads, or else the motorists would drive too close to us, and even deliberately try to cause us to fall.

Further South, we attract more attention, and cars drive by more carefully, often shouting out encouragement. Two things have remained the same: truck drivers are quite careful and give us lots of room as they pass. Buses and cars, on the other hand, tend to ignore us completely as they drive by, and they have been the cause of some of our scariest moments.

Hierarchy in “social” services

Since Mexico we have been surprised by the number of people with cell phones and by their frequent usage. Often it’s people without running water in their homes, without showers, but with cable TV. Having met with some microfinance clients, who are by definition the poorest people, we noticed that they almost always have cellphone and TV before other health-related services. For them it’s normal, but it still seems so strange to us. Some women wash their laundry by hand while chatting on their cell phones.

Cell phone coverage is generally widespread – even in the middle of Lake Titicaca, or other remote and unpopulated areas, you can get reception!

Sébastien le 9/08 à 12h44

The Sacred Valley

The sites in the Sacred Valley can only be visited with a “boleto turistico,” a kind of group tourist ticket that !!include!!s entry to all the sites, so it’s impossible to visit them individually. With our ticket we visited Pisaq, Ollantaytambo and Moray. They are each very impressive considering the amount of effort it took to build them. The Inca would quarry rocks, huge boulders, from the bottom of the mountains, or a dozen kilometres away. A real herculean labour! At Pisaq, the terraces were dizzyingly high, at Ollantaytambo, the granite blocks gigantic, and at Moray, the strange circular terraces were fascinating.

We also stopped to visit Salinas (not !!include!!d in the boleto ticket). It’s a saltwater waterfall which fills over 2000 earthen containers at the bottom. The water evaporates in a couple of days, leaving the salt to be used by humans and animals alike. There were 330 people working there, barefoot and without gloves. It was a strange place, tucked away in the middle of the mountain, and almost supernatural since everything was white, surrounded everywhere else by the red earth.

Machu Picchu

It’s one of the seven wonders of the world, famous both in Peru and worldwide, and is a hugely popular tourist destination.

To get to Machu Picchu, you either have to walk several days along the Inca Trail, or else you can take the train. Most tourists take the train from Cuzco, but it’s cheaper to get on at one of the smaller stops along the way. We got on Poroy and paid US $41 each way. It’s a pretty serious racket, especially considering that the village right at the base of Machu Picchu is only accessible by train or by foot. That means that Peru Rail had a monopoly and can charge as much as they want. And the locals only pay US$8!

After three hours on the train, we arrived at the village, in high tourist season. The village was built to accommodate the hordes of visitors, and it was built quickly and cheaply. Everything is geared towards the tourist. There are restaurants, souvenir shops, 2 hour laundry places, and grocery stores with prices inflated up to 200%.

We arrived just before noon and after checking into the hotel, we climbed up Putucusi, the mountain across from Machu Picchu. There is a beautiful view at the top, but it’s not easy to get up there. It was 671m up an arduous track, including at least 8 wooden ladders between 5 and 40 metres long when the path got too steep. It was a long climb, almost 2 hours, but well worth the view! There was an Incan flag and an unobstructed view of Machu Picchu, lit up by the sun. We didn’t stay that long at the top, but enough to see that the next day was going to be incredible.

The next morning, our guide Raul came to get us at 5:50 am. We were taking the shuttle bus (US$14 return) to climb up the twisting road to reach the site itself. There was already a long line for the bus, and Raul said that already 650 people had left by bus that morning! And that didn’t !!include!! the people who had left at 3:30 in the morning on foot in order to be the first people there. Sébastien had wanted to climb up on foot, but after seeing the trail from Putucusi, we decided to take the bus. That way we wouldn’t be too tired to explore the site. The whole climb took about 25 minutes.

This meant though that we wouldn’t be able to climb up Wayna Picchu, the mountain in the background of all the pictures that you see of Machu Picchu. Only the first 400 visitors get it !!include!!d in their ticket price. It’s a dangerous climb and there have been a lot of accidents (17 people have died since 1970). Raul asked the person in charge, just in case, and she told us that all the spots had been filled up 50 minutes after the site opened at 6 am!

There was, naturally, a line up at the gate, but we got through it quickly, and then Raul took us up Mirador. We were the first to arrive there and we had a largely tourist-free view of the whole site, shrouded in clouds. There were the obligatory group photos and then it started to rain. The Gods of rain seem to be playing a cruel joke on us – it never rains at Machu Picchu in August! But the fat rain drops didn’t put a metaphorical damper on our visit. We walked around for three hours with Raul who spoke very good French and who explained everything in detail. He answered all our questions, and then, eager to find out more about France, its language and culture, he asked us questions. There was one real stumper: he asked how you conjugate the verb “moudre” [to grind] in the present tense. We got stuck after “nous…” and couldn’t think of the right ending. And we didn’t have a Besherelle with us… so the question remained unanswered. Raul left us and headed back towards the entrance to meet with his next group tour.

We continued to explore the site on our own, trying to take everything in. We tried to get to the “Inca Bridge,” but ended up in front of three construction workers cleaning an Incan wall by hand. We couldn’t go any further, but weren’t sure whether this was the famous bridge or whether it was further along.

Then we set off towards the “Sun Gate,” and we ran into some hikers who had come along the Inca Trail, the long road through the jungle that ends at Machu Picchu. The view was still pretty cloudy and we couldn’t see much, so we ate a little. You can’t have a picnic on the site, but it’s no problem to have a little snack. Eventually the clouds cleared away and we were able to explore the site again in the afternoon, this time in the sunlight. At 5 pm, we got back on the train for Poroy and then went back to Cuzco in a car.

We were actually much less impressed with Machu Picchu than we were expecting. The vast number of tourists is a real problem for the site, and about a month ago UNESCO issued a warning. They said that the degradation is becoming obvious and the number of visitors is only increasing (more than a million people each year!). It’s a difficult problem, and there have seen a number of strategies tried on site, but without much success. Eventually, we figure that the number of people allowed in will have to be restricted, or else the path that they can take through the site strictly limited and it will be mandatory to have a guide. Right now, visitors can just wander wherever they like. But it’s another example of an Incan site in danger.
PS. So that successive generations can also be the first to discover the site, not everything has been excavated – that will be for our children!

Next Up

Sébastien’s parents have left now, and we plan to stay a couple of days in Cuzco. We have a meeting Monday with our host Mario’s mother, who is a micro-entrepreneur, and who had invited us to her monthly meeting with the other members of her group. It’s a great opportunity to see these micro-entrepreneurs without having to go first through a MFI.

This trip is outside the scope of the Association Planète Durable et Solidaire, but we are using the website to keep you updated on all our adventures.

Sara

After our unfortunate adventures on the bus, we met Sebastien’s parents in Nazca. It was a big surprise for them since we were supposed to join them two days later. It was an emotional meeting – it had been 14 months since we’d last seen them!
Before leaving, they had gone to a travel agency in France to plan the trip, and the agency made all the arrangements. They’re doing what the locals here call a traditional “gringo tour,” which allows them to gradually adjust to the altitude. Their trip !!include!!s Lima, Pisco and Paracas, Arequipa and the Colca Canyon, Lake Titicaca, Cuzco and Machu Picchu.

The Nazca Lines

The desert is flat and dry, and you wouldn’t expect it to be the location of a archaeological mystery: geoglyphes. Discovered in 1926, the lines describe massive shapes in the ground, sometimes over several kilometres. They are !!include!!d as a UNESCO World Heritage site.

If you fly over them (in little planes with room for 3-12 passengers and a pilot), you can see geometric shapes, a whale, an astronaut, a dog, a m!!onkey!!, a pair of hands, a tree, a condor, a hummingbird, a spider, a hero and a parrot. Those are the most recognizable shapes, and the planes that fly over them zigzag back and forth across the land to make sure that both sides of the plane get the chance to see the figures and take pictures.

We flew in a little prop plane with 6 other tourists. Sébastien sat by himself in the back, and took lots of pictures, since he got to see the figures on both sides of the plane. I watched out the windows and took a few pictures, but after a while, I really only looked out. The plane was not entirely steady and looking out towards the horizon helped me forget about the turbulence!

The day after we flew, we encouraged Liliane and Jean-Pierre to go up too. Liliane wasn’t sure about the idea, and the flight hadn’t been booked by their agency. But after we told them more about it, they thought it sounded like fun and ended up boarding a tiny 3-person place. They had a really good time, despite being a little jostled by the trip.

Arequipa

It’s the second biggest city in Peru, 2330 metres in altitude. The city isn’t very touristy, and us “gringos” can walked around without getting too harassed by the street vendors. Three volcanoes surround the city: Misti (5822m) and still active, Chachani (6075m), and Pichi Pichu (5669). The setting was lovely, especially since we were in Arequipa in the fog and the volcanoes were covered in snow. We saw the “Monasterio de Santa Catalina” which had fabulous architecture, and the “Sanctuarios Andinos” museum where you can meet “Juanita,” a young girl who was sacrificed by the Incas and whose frozen remains were discovered on Ampata (6310m) only a few years ago.

We also met up with Monique and Jean-Pierre, a older French couple who we had first met in the Galapagos Islands, just after they had arrived in Ecuador. Since then, they had been backpacking through Peru and Bolivia. We had been trying to meet each other, but the days had never lined up. This time we were able to grab a drink with them the night before they were leaving to climb up Misti. We learned after that they got stuck in a snowstorm at the first camp at 4700m and were only able to come back down the next day when the storm had abated!

Yura Gorge

This was a nice hike. They had warned us that we needed water-proof shoes, and we thought there might be a few puddles along the way. But no, we actually walked through the river to get to the waterfall at the end of the gorge. It was a lot of fun, and just like “canyoning,” there was much scrambling, sliding, and a few scratches. We got home soaked but very happy.

Colca Canyon

Colca Canyon is 100 km long and 3191 metres deep. It was once considered the deepest canyon in the world, but actually a sister canyon, Cotahuasi, is even deeper (3535m). Its highest point is 4350m above sea level and the river Colca runs through the valley.

We went on a two day expedition into the national reserve “Reserva Nacional Salinas y Aguada Blanca.” We saw 3 out of the 4 mammals of the camelid family in South America: alpacas, llamas, and vicunas. The fourth animal is the guanaco and is very rare to see them in this region. We visited the small, too-traditional villages at the bottom of the Colca valley, where the villagers were all dressed in traditional clothes, attracting those tourists in search of the untouched native life…

The best part of the trip were the condors. The sky cleared and we were able to watch a dozen birds in flight. They are large, lazy birds, between 11 and 15 kg, and they rarely flap their wings, preferring to use the rising hot air currents to stay aloft. It was a spectacular sight.

Puno, Lake Titicaca and its islands

After getting use the altitude in Arequipa, helped by a bus ride over a 4870 m high mountain, we felt ready to travel across the Peruvian plateau, 3800 m in altitude. We were incredibly struck by the immensity of the landscape and by the clarity of the sky. We took a boat across Lake Titicaca to the floating islands of Uros and Taquile. Despite the rather touristy feel of Uros, we were interested to hear the inhabitants describe how the islands came to be (they were shaped by a reed, called “totora”) and their way of life. It seems too bad that this ancient culture survives only through tourism today.

We were surprised when we arrived on Taquile to find the whole island was celebrating! We didn’t have a chance to see the dances since they happened right when we were eating, but we learned much about their traditions. The Taquilian men are quite macho. They hardly ever walk around with their wives, and if they have to, they will walk 15 feet ahead of them. The unmarried men wear hats with two colours, while those that are married have hats with just one colour. The women where a red top and a black skirt if they are married, and if they’re single and available, they wear brightly coloured dresses. The strangest custom of all was that only the men are allowed the knit on the island, the women are forbidden to do it! We saw men knitting with 4 and 5 knitting needles.

Cuzco, the sacred valley and Machu Picchu

After finally getting used to the altitude at Puno, we came back down to Cuzco (3400m) to visit the Inca ruins and the region around Machu Picchu. We’ll tell you all about it soon….!

Sara

This trip was outside the scope of the Association Planète Durable et Solidaire, but we’re using the site to bring all the news of all our adventures.

Well, we’re on vacation. For the next two weeks, we are bike-free – we are backpackers! This changes two important things: first, we’re not nearly as autonomous, and second, we’re not so special anymore, only a couple of ordinary travelers, accompanied by the usual clichés: we speak English and we have lots (and lots) of money to spend.

So far, our vacation is off to a good start: Monday morning there was a nation-wide transportation strike which meant that we couldn’t get to downtown Cusco since our hosts live about 7 km away from the Plaza de Armas. The problem was a new, tougher, highway law which would impose stricter penalties for infractions. Of course, considering how most people drive in Peru, you wouldn’t think there were any laws in place at all....

Happily, Mario and Marianella took us into town in the afternoon after the road blocks had been removed, and we were able to catch our 8:00 pm bus for Nazca. We’re supposed to meet my parents in Arequipa, but since we’re a couple of days ahead of schedule, we thought we would surprise them 2 days early!

It’s a long trip, and the road was very windy. Sara had been sick the night before and had had trouble falling asleep. The trip was supposed to take about 13 hours, but at 6:00 am, after 10 hours of driving, the sun came up and the bus stopped in the middle of nowhere, a chilly 3300m above sea level. The bus attendant told us to relax and go back to sleep, but since it was already light out, it was hard to sleep. We noticed that we had stopped right behind a truck. Maybe road work, we wondered. Then we drove a few hundred meters and we were able to see the problem. We were stuck at the end of a long line of buses, and there was a city up ahead – Puquito, according to my GPS. Yesterday’s transportation strike was supposed to last 48 hours, so we figured we were facing a road block with striking workers.

We waited and waited. The sun climbed higher in the sky, and we heard some news on the radio: apparently in Lima, the strike was over and the road blocks were down. At 8:00 am, we were optimistic, figuring we would be moving soon. But we kept waiting. It was nice outside and we got out of the bus to see what was going on. A little further up the road, there were stones and boulders blocking the way. People by the side of the road watched the heated exchanges between the strikers and the passengers of the blocked vehicles. I climbed back into the bus and reported back to Sara. On her end, she had found out that the bus company had known about the blockade, and that was a local demonstration and had nothing to do with the national strikes. Sara was starting to get really restless and could hardly sit still any longer.

Around 9:00 am we found out for sure by listening to the other drivers that it was a local demonstration. Our hopes of getting going faded just as Sara’s temper began to rise. She got out of the bus to see what was happening at the blockade. When she came back, the rumours that the bus company had known about the blockade were intensifying, but our drivers flatly denied it. We were starting to get hungry. The night before the bus company had given us mini-sandwiches, mini-granola bars, and little juice box. Even though they had cookies, they wouldn’t give us any. We found out that there was another bus from the same company that was stuck on the other side of the city, and we thought we should just switch passengers between buses. But there were 3 older ladies on our bus who refused, and so we couldn’t do it.

One by one, the other bus companies switched their passengers, turned around and drove away. Our bus attendant called her supervisor in Lima, but was told that she would have to figure it out for herself. At around 11:00, the protesters said that there were having a meeting and would lift the blockade at 1:00. A last, it seemed the end was in sight! Everyone relaxed and we chatted a little with the other passengers. We had a couple of interesting conversations about strikes with many Peruvians, a Quebecois and a Chilean.

Just a little before 1:00, some protesters came down the lines of cars carrying oil paints and they painted on the windshields (and sometimes the cars themselves) messages like “Viva el Paro – Puquio – 48 horas” (Long live the strike – Puquio – 48 hours), saying that any car without paint wouldn’t be able to pass the barriers. Our bus drivers didn’t even seem to notice.

At 1:10, we were becoming impatient. A Peruvian reminded us that although the protesters had said 1:00, hours in Peru were flexible, and that could have meant 1:00 pm, or 1:00 am, or even 1:00 tomorrow. Our hopes were once again dashed, and we settled back into waiting. Now we were really hungry. There were vendors walking up and down the road, but most of the waiting passengers had refused to buy anything from them, especially at their inflated prices. Later in the afternoon, we heard that the blockade would end around 3 or 4, but we didn’t want to believe it. At 4:00 pm the bus attendant finally gave each of us a little package of cookies. A dilapidated police car from a neighboring village with four police officers inside pulled alongside our bus. They were the first police officers we had seen all day, and the passengers started laying into them right away. It was clear that police had no control over the situation and they told us to turn around and find another road. But Peru is not like in France (or Canada) where there are alternate routes and little country roads. There’s only one road here, and to go another route would mean going back to Cusco (10 hours) and going through Arequipa (an 18 hour detour!).
Just then, the people seemingly in charge of the demonstration came down the line of cars and told us that they would lift the blockade for an hour at 6:00 pm and that we would be able to go through since our bus company had not been informed about the strike, unlike other companies. So unfair!

The sun started to go down, and at 6:00 pm, a dozen police officers came from the town towards the barrier, to boos and whistles from the cars. The police chief shook hands with the head protester, they spoke a few words, and then the road was unblocked. It took us an hour to get through the town since there were blockades everywhere and only one lane was open.

After many twists and turns on a poorly maintained road, we arrived in Nazca at 10:30pm, only 13 ½ hours late! As soon as we stepped off the bus, we were mobbed by hotel touts and tourist site promoters, all hoping we would take notice of them. We yelled at them and spread out our arms, pushing them away. One of them asked in Spanish if we French, and they calmed down a little after that, but they followed us anyway, despite us telling them that we knew where we were going and we didn’t need them. We saw a hotel and headed directly towards it. As we about to go in, a man caught up to us, asked if we were going inside, and mumbled that he was the owner of the hotel. He asked us what kind of room we were looking for, and naively we told him. He ran ahead of us, and asked at the reception for the keys to show us a room. No doubt he got a sweet commission for his troubles. It really is a different experience backpacking on the bus.

PS. This morning we flew over Nazca in a plane with four other passengers. It was fascinating and wonderful. At 3:00 pm we surprised my parents at their hotel, and they couldn’t believe we were there! It was really great to see them!

Sébastien

This trip is outside the scope of the Association Planète Durable et Solidaire, but we are using the website to keep you updated on all our adventures.

We felt a lot better, mentally and physically, after resting a few days in Abancay. It’s been nice to stay in the same place for a little while – it allows us to relax, decompress, sleep in the same bed for a couple of nights in a row! We don’t have to look for a place to stay or somewhere to eat, we don’t have to shop for groceries, and it’s nice to get a “feel” for the place. We also got to meet with a super friendly Microfinance Institution.

Quechua

Abancay is 2400m above sea level, and the next mountain is 4000m, so we have a pretty good climb ahead of us. We camped in a little village, about half way up, in front of the house of a little old lady. She only spoke Quechua, a dialect of the Andes region (and not just a brand of hiking equipment!). When we asked if we could camp on her land, she answered that she didn’t have any room in her house! Luckily her neighbour came by to help us out, and the old woman gave us a big smile and said that we were welcome to camp anywhere we wanted. Sara took a very cold shower in the river, but the temperature dropped quickly in an hour, and Sébastien decided to forgot a shower that night.

Cordillera de Vilcabamba

4003m in altitude: The next morning, the snow-capped peaks of the Vilcabamba range were spread out before us – a beautiful sight. It was a little chilly up there, but we decided to have a picnic, Peruvian hats on our heads.
We continued our way down to Curahausi – 35 km of breaking, no pedaling required, except to get away from the dogs that chased us, much the delight of the locals. We found a “hospedaje” (hotel) with hot water and a floor so clean that we could have eaten off it! We went into the local market to pick up a few things – we often go for fruits and vegetables, and sometimes pasta and cookies. We always avoid the fish stands though – in the mountains it’s mostly trout – and the meat stalls that we can smell before seeing. There’s no refrigeration here – everything is laid out in the open all day, exposed to the sun and the insects. Sometimes the smell can get pretty overpowering.

A bit of thumbing…

The next day we continued our way down to Apurimac, about 25 km. It was a record breaking 60 km descent, going from 4000m to 1900m in altitude. Then we had “only” 1750m to climb to get over the next hill…

We finally arrived in Limatambo, exhausted, annoyed by the sand flies and wiped from the heat, after 20 km and 700m up. After a lot of deliberation, we decided to “cheat” a little and take a public taxi for the last part of the climb, 23 km and more than 1000m up. It meant that we would be able to get to Cusco the next night and go to the famous Pisaq market on Sunday. When we reached the summit, the taxi driver seemed overcome by the remorse of overcharging us for ride, and offered to take us all the way to Cusco. We refused though – we would get there tomorrow, on our own steam!

As the sun was going down, we searched for a place to pitch the tent, and we settled down in a little field. It was cold, but the brilliant starry sky soon made us forget the chill.

A frozen orange and a town with two faces

It was cold this morning when we woke up. As Sara reached for her fleece, she noticed that the part that had been touching the tent was frozen. We unzipped the door flap – the ground was white. There had been frost overnight, and our little orange tent was covered, and so were our bikes. We made like onions and layered: 2 fleeces, 1 Gore-Tex shell (wind and rain proof), and our warmest gloves. We looked at each other, incredulous. We were “only” 3400m above sea level, and Bolivia is 4000m up! We thought about buying a thick, warm blanket, but then we would have to carry it. In the end, the cold prevailed – we’ll buy something in Cusco. Happily the sun was shining, the frost began to melt, and we started to warm up. Little by little, we peeled off all our layers.

After about 40 km, we saw the sign for Cusco, naturally accompanied by an increase in rude drivers on the road. We were a little overwhelmed – this is a big and important step for us. Cusco, also known as “the world’s belly-button,” is a famous colonial town, supposedly very clean and beautiful. Before we got there, however, we had to go through some less attractive areas, slums with mud huts and with garbage piled up in the roads. Beneath us, the famous Cusco awaited. At our feet, we could see the centre of town with clean and wide boulevards. The juxtaposition was striking. Up here, the locals eked out a living, while down below was “gringo land”, where the tourists came and went, without ever seeing the local poverty, barely a stone’s throw away. Up here, they leave the “gringos” alone, but down below, “gringo” mean “dinero”, and on every corner the travel agencies, trips planners, and hotels and hostels do everything they can to get the tourist buck.

That morning we had contacted Mario and Marianella, our hosts in Cusco. We were descending on them a day earlier than we had originally planned, but it wasn’t a problem. We called them from the main square, right after having been “attacked” by a young New Zealander and 4 Argentineans who wanted to know everything about our trip. They were from the Santa Fé region and invited us to stay with them when we are passing through.
Mario and Marianella gave us directions to their house, and Mario left to meet us in his car. They were very warm and welcoming, and invited us into their home with open arms, even though we’d only ever exchanged a couple of emails. They’re going to keep our bikes for the next two weeks while Sébastien’s parents come and visit. We’re all going on a bus trip, itinerary yet to be discovered!

But first we have a couple of days to work on our Microfinance project and explore the city – with our backpacks, the international sign of the gringo!

Sara & Sébastien