Sixty Degrees of Latitude…

First presented in preview form here Sixty Degrees of Latitude is here at last and available to order. 132 pages of interesting photography, printed on a very high quality ‘lustre’ finish paper.  It is not a travelog as such, nor is it exclusively street photography. Rather it is just a look at some of the places in between on my cycle journey through the Andes. Of course I’d be very happy if you all ordered a copy.. and you “should”* if you like interesting photography… or are interested in South America.. or bicycles and travel by bike.. and especially if you enjoyed reading this blog as I pedalled my way along through the Andes ;-)

You can preview the book in full below and order directly here

“A journey by bicycle following the spine of the Andes from a latitude of approximately 5 degrees north in Colombia to 55 degrees south at the tip of Tierra del Fuego. These are some of the places in between.”

Sixty Degrees of Latitude by Mike Hayes | Make Your Own Book

Granted it is not dirt cheap, such is the cost of print on demand, but it is a very high quality book and to put it in context.. for £25 you can go and buy 70 pages of rather dull (in my humble opinion of course ;-) photography in the form of Moby’s new book.. because he is Moby.. or you can have this instead <hint>.

cheero!

la última entrada de América del Sur ….

I fly out of here tomorrow so this will be my last post from South America… for the time being ;-) I’m feeling a bit crap today, haven’t had a lot of sleep this week for various reasons…. so I think I had better go and buy an alarm clock for tomorrow morning as I have a feeling I may sleep in if I’m not careful. My bike is all packed now got hold of a suitable cardboard box from the nice folk at Gravity Peru… the young lad working at my hostel enjoyed cutting all the spokes in my rear wheel… no point in bringing that cracked rim home, the rear hub is just acting as an anti-crush spacer in the rear triange now. Oddly  looking forward to heading home .. I love life on the road but I’m also lucky that I have a life at home that I enjoy very much… summer in Cornwall.. on the beach, in my kayak and on my bike… there is of course the shadow of having to work.. probably… there is still a question mark over that so indeed I may be back out here sooner rather than later ;-)

Anyway, back to the here and now.. Cuzco is a very different place to when I first passed through here 12 years ago… back then it had a few tourists but there was just one gringo bar and a couple of pizzerias.. and it was dirt cheap These days it’s the gringo capital of S America full of folk on tour groups outfitted in his n’ hers North Face outfits likely to see nothing more precipitous than a flight of stairs and 16 year old Brits just out of private school, behaving badly and funded by mummy & daddy…. mixed feelings about it.. on the one hand it’s very easy to go out, find company, eat good food and drink far too much but the downside is I’ve not really settled down and tuned in. I don’t feel like I really tuned in with my camera.. I’ve just not been inspired.. gringos everywhere and precious little ‘genuinely interesting stuff’ going on.. plus the locals are fed up of folk with cameras.. unless of course you want to pay a bunch of soles to have someone pose in traditional dress with a llama in tow… I know they’re only trying to make a living which is fair enough but from my point of view the results would not be a natural or genuine photo.. just a  souvenir…. Still, I have a huge archive of stuff I find interesting from the last 4 months or so :-)

that famous Inca stonework all over town.. Cuzco was the Inca royal capital, the Spanish just built their stuff on top of the Inca foundations

Going back to that fake 50 Sol note too… I was thinking about that, money even in it’s legitimate form is a wholly abstract concept that just enables the exchange of goods and services… a fake note can achieve exactly the same thing… once the initial fraudulent transaction has taken place (which is wrong for sure) and the note has entered circulation in theory there is no reason it can’t represent the same abstraction as a genuine note.. unless of course the holder wants to go to the bank and exchange it for real value.. i.e a lump of gold for ex… in the normal day to day a fake note works just as well in representing value as a real one… so on that basis I think I may have just about convinced myself that it’s OK to spend it rather than hand it to the local coppers… heck it’ll just do the rounds of gringos pockets ’till it falls to pieces.. hmm ;-)

in recent years the city authorities have been keen to emphasis the cultural heritage of Cuzco... street names have changed, the official name of the town is Qosco and new sculptures such as this have appeared.

That also leads on nicely to the concept of karma and paying on favours… the other night we (as in myself and a friend) found ourselves talking to a rather large American girl ironically tucking into the biggest burger you ever saw… a pleasant and interesting evening of conversation ensued… and she paid for a our drinks which was an unexpected bonus. She was flying home the next day so had Soles to spare… and same evening having left that bar we went to buy a bottle of rum.. usual story the shop had no change and we short a Sol or two in change.. so rescued by another gringo girl with the gift of enough Soles to cover our alcoholic purchase… bonus. I firmly believe what comes around goes around and all that, next day I gave my crash helmet, an old but good condition Specialized S1 to a local cyclist.. figured I could probably have sold it for a few $ but as Russ pointed out it was a perfect way to pay on the favours from the night before… although I did sell my fuel bottle to the same guy for 20 soles (about £4.50)… it still had gasoline in it from Bolivia so rather than try and dispose of it (bad for the environment) and faff about washing the bottle out so I could take it on the plane it’s staying here for a lifetime of use in the Andes. My windstopper gloves are also doing duty somewhere on the Inca Trail at the moment too… one day they’ll get posted back to me I hope :-)

OK, enough of the ramblings… I will get another coffee and then upload a bunch of pics below that I hope give some feel for the place…..

Digging up the road on a quiet Sunday morning

away from the plaza Cuzco is a town of quiet, steep streets and terracotta tiles

.. like this.. and in a bunch of other pics (no apologies, I like 'em :-)

lots of nice old bugs around too.. compensates somewhat for the lack of interesting old American trucks :-)

Plaza de Armas...

a city of churches...

some local colour amongst the ranks or tourists...

also very much a city of arches

bit of a cliché as photos go... but it serves it's purpose..

the Cathedral hides behind an excellent mess of wiring

the Museum of Contemporary Art is housed in a beautiful colonial building... the contents not always so beautiful however...

interesting metal in a sidestreet.. the pizza/burger van was an ancient old VW bus

off to school... the uniforms are of a very definite military flavour...

a colourful street corner

more VW flavoured colour...

no apology from me for the bug photos, I like 'em :-)

needs no comment I think...

a beautiful place in the late afternoon light

cobbled streets polished over the centuries

colourful & ramshackle :-)

the gringo $ help keep the place spotless, happily there is real pride in this city and rightly so

more steepness.. kids on their way home from school

...simply a beautiful town..

a scattering of street vendors...

... amongst the ancient(ish) walls

plenty of 'production line art' for sale to the tourists

little yellow cabs fly around the streets...

....like fairground dodgems

no parking...? Ha!

beauty in the details....

something of a contrast... riot police and one of many demonstrations...

view south, the city and mountains in the background

spent many happy hours wandering the labyrinth of backstreets

p.s I suppose traditionally at this point I should get all deep and self analytical about the journey and what it meant to me… hahaha, no chance, it was a fab adventure, one of many already and many more to come. I loved it, Argentina was a surprise, I had no idea what to expect and I found it to be a wonderful country, interesting and full of lovely people…. Bolivia was suitably wild and woolly and Peru .. well Peru will always be magic, been here before suspect will be here again. North of here Ecuador and Colombia are terrific too… Colombia in particular. So there you go, that’s as deep as I’m going to get :-)

p.p.s thank you too to everyone who donated to Shelterbox, we are very grateful… and to everyone who promised but didn’t yet, tut tut… there’s still time .. big blue button up there etc etc ;-)

so, thanks for reading.. next week it’ll be back to the usual kayaking and cycling fodder I imagine… but  just to finish a few more random snaps simply because I have them……

on the way to another tourist photo shoot, hehe

Chinchero, fake Soles etc

…a breakfast of oats & quinoa with a mug of coffee in the plaza at Ollantaytambo sorted me out well for the climb back up out of the Sacred Valley… 20km gentle climb back up-river by way of a warm-up to the scruffy little cross-roads town of Urabamba and then a further 30km of steep switchbacks that took me all the way back up to 3900m ASL. My plan was to go only as far as Chinchero, 50km from Ollantaytambo.. I was there in less than three hours just in time for a lunch of steak (of what I am not sure…), rice and chips :-)

Argentina was the place for groovy old American trucks, Peru and Bolivia sadly lacking.. only a few poor examples amongst the piles of Japanese stuff

The climb from Urabamba was superb, starting off through switchbacks cut deep into the pink rock of the mountainside it eventually opened out into heavily farmed countryside.. the hillsides a patchwork of small-holdings backed by the mighty peaks of the Cordillera Vilcanota.

along the road to Chinchero

I had good legs and with a healthy dose of adrenalin thanks to the fabulous location I pretty much flew up the climb, only really feeling the altitude and the steepness once higher than around 3600m I suppose.. I did enjoy the climb on my relatively lightly loaded bike but also not really envying Pete who went in the opposite direction to me in his bid to get to Machu Picchu via the back door.. i.e by bike.. while I was enjoying myself up the climb from Urabamba he would have been slogging his way up to the 4315m Abra Malaga… and welcome to it I think given he has to come back that way… ah, glad I ticked that particular box a few years ago :-)

along the road to Chinchero

Chinchero is a very pretty little pueblo sitting at just under 3800m. The Spanish here built their colonial buildings on top of the existing Inca stonework, as they did in many other places, but here the blend of old and older is particularly picturesque. It’s a beautiful spot with the high mountains all around, steep cobbled streets and a mix of adobe and stone buildings. It’s not far from gringo-saturated Cuzco but might as well be another planet.. the streets are very peaceful and the few folk around in the afternoon all seemed very friendly, even the farm women in their traditional dress who are usually very wary of a gringo with a camera. I didn’t spoil it by trying to take any pics.

Chinchero

After a pleasant wander round, post-climb legs complaining on the steep streets, I dozed in the shade on a handy piece of Inca masonry  by the church by way of recovery from the mornings ride while eavesdropping on a group of daytripping American women… “geee Mary, do you think I should take a photo of that good looking guy sleeping on the big stone..“

.. ah, Ok, you can ignore the good looking bit, she didn’t really say that..

Chinchero

There are a couple of places to stay in Chinchero (that I could see), I figured it’d be cheap with most folk just visiting on day trips from Cuzco.. but not so, I ended up paying 3 times the cost of an admittedly quite cheap bed in Ollantaytambo… even had I not left my tent in Cuzco I think camping nearby would have been impossible – all farmed/occupied. Having said that the hospedaje was rather nice – a balconied colonial house on two levels with rooms facing inwards to the central, open air courtyard complete with a tall cactus adorned with drying tea-towels… and it was well worth it to spend a quiet afternoon exploring. I seemed to be the only guest which was great.. the wife of the jolly old duffer who runs the place is a fantastic cook so I was well fed… she must have thought I looked hungry or something :-)

Chinchero

The following morning my initial attempt to leave Chinchero was foiled by some minor excitement.. I was 5km out of town, flying along nicely in the early morning mist when the hospedaje owner came past in a taxi yelling at me out of the window to stop and go back… apparently the 50 sole note I gave him earlier was a fake.. and he certainly had a fake in his hand.. no watermark. So I went back, I had just 50 soles left so gave him that note in exchange, and then he wanted another 20 soles for his taxi ride… hmm, decided to give him the benefit of the doubt and gave him a few US$ as no legitimate soles left. Bit of a waste of £18 or so… I prefer not to be suspicious of everyone I meet, it ruins the fun, so I choose to believe his story.. I had no idea if the note I handed over intitially was fake or not. The other possibility is that he needed to get rid of a fake he already accepted elsewhere in error and a stupid, relatively wealthy gringo presented the ideal opportunity to get rid of it… Hmm, if that was the case then good luck to him.. karma and all that. I prefer the first version, lesson learned in accepting larger denomination Soles… la vida.. es la lucha and all that ;-)

... just as I was rolling out of town a nice blue bug

I passed a field on the way into Cuzco with a big sign saying “bungee jump from the highest field in the world”… yep, not the highest bridge or the tallest crane or the deepest canyon… the highest field… and not actually a very high field at only 3600m. It all looked a bit crap, forty feet of scaffold in the middle of a field remarkable only for being particularly unremarkable. Brilliant.

Anyway, a few pics for ya:

Chinchero.. the church tower

Chinchero

Chinchero

Chinchero

Chinchero

Chinchero

Chinchero

Chinchero

Chinchero

Chinchero

Chinchero... village shop, laundry out the back..

Chinchero

Chinchero.. the Inca bit

very precise agricultural terraces

stunning location..

Pisac, Ollantaytambo y un gato bizco…

as I write I’m in the pretty little pueblo of Ollantaytambo nestled among steep mountainsides at the northern end of the Sacred Valley of the Incas.. Most of the time it is a tranquil little place but later in the day it gets busy as the tour buses make their stop off. It’s an interesting little place, aside from the almost obligatory Inca fortress on the mountainside above this pueblo retains much of the original Inca street plans and stonework… it has been continuously inhabited for more than 700 years…  The ride down here was fabulous, 2 short days on good roads in stunning suroundings and with just a light load on my bike very much a holiday after the rigors of the past few months :-)

on the hills above Cuzco. I bought that red shirt in Valle la Angosture in January and have worn it almost every day since.. the sun has faded the back and shoulders pale pink now.

I left Cuzco on Wednesday with Pete (he’s headed to Machu Piccu ultimately) looking forward to a mostly downhill day to Pisac… and it was mostly downhill, once the small matter of a stiff 13km climb was out of the way :-) That took us back up to around 3700m before a delicious descent of around 20km all the way down to Pisac at around 2600m.

Pete is missing the cows from back home...

the road (on the right) down into the Sacred Valley...

The area around Pisac was badly affected by landslides during the rains in January and from the mountainside above town I could clearly see a number of Shelterbox tents in the sportsfield on the edge of town. Really nice to see, I didn’t go and intrude with my camera.. it was enough to see Shelterbox at work first hand. Indeed the next day cycling along the banks of the Rio Vilcanota much evidence of the landslides could be seen, including buried/destroyed pueblos. You can read more about Shelterbox involvement in Peru earlier this year here: http://www.shelterbox.org/deployment_details.php?id=124

Still accepting donations/sponsorship of course… big blue button top right :-)

Pisac...

Pisac itself is just a pleasant little hill town, there is a tourist market in the plaza but away from that you’d never know.

lunch under the colourful canopies in the plaza

Pisac...

Pisac... the view from the hospedaje

After a quick lunch we swapped cycling shoes for hiking shoes and legged it off up into the mountains.. after so many weeks high up the air down here felt/feels magically thick and legs were full of energy. It would have been a fantastic afternoon of hiking/scrambling without all the Inca ruins and terraces high on the mountainside, but with the added context it was magnificent. The trails were deserted (most folk get carted up the back way by road, and we did manage to stray off trail with some nicely exposed vertical for a taste of adrenalin) and the views fabulous… I’ll let the pics do the talking:

feeling on top of the world :-)

the valley at Pisac

above Pisac

agricultural terraces... one Inca legacy high on the mountainsides

the other being a series of forts and temples scattered around the mountainsides

high above Pisac... the rougher stonework than elsewhere usually indicates either a military installation or a rushed build..

above Pisac

classic Inca stonework..

more of those terraces..

That night we stayed in a colourful  little hospedaje close to the centre of town. 20 soles for the night but with oodles of hot water from an enormous wood-fired boiler at the back. Dinner was a gringo-flavoured affair of spaghetti with meatballs accompanied by a black cross-eyed cat.. hence the title.. a creepy creature, black, lean & green-eyed with an intense squint.. Of course when I say ‘accompanied’ I don’t mean in the sense of a side-dish along with the garlic bread, but rather as being subject to an intense gaze from floor-level.

on the road out of Pisac

cruising along the valley floor...

..through a string of little pueblos.. like this one...

.. and some pretty nice views along the Rio Vilcanota

On from Pisac then, an easy 60km or so downriver and up the map north to Ollantaytambo. More fab scenery with glacier-capped peaks occasionally visible behind the steep valley walls. The day was very much reminiscent of a perfect summer day back in Cornwall… warm sun, 24 degs ish, with the smell of fresh grass and trees but with a cool breeze as if coming off the sea.. though here of course it’s coming down off the glaciers. Perfect cycling weather. I’m running my rear tyre soft to reduce the shock loading on the cracked rim… bike feels like an armchair as a result, all I’m missing is a beer cooler on my handlebars..  and with no front panniers the handling is nice and lively.

picking up picnic supplies in Urabamba

Stopped for a picnic lunch of bread and cheese by the railway line and river just outside Urabamba… having had a huge debate with Pete on the rather wide ranging topic of global politics, economics, Concorde and other selected items of wierdness for the first 40km we probably needed to stop anyway to appreciate the scenery :-)

enjoying the ride :-)

Pete hates cobblestones... unfortunate that the climb into Ollantaytambo is all cobbles...

.. as are the streets

So, to Ollantaytambo… I already gave some background blurb so not much else to say. The Inca fortress doesn’t have quite the extent of magical masonry that other sites do.. indicating it was built rather late in the Inca rein when time was running out against the Spanish, but it’s still a magnificent place. I have a room here for just 15 soles (about £3.75) with a lovely garden and mountain views… hence the reason I decided to stick around a while. It’s a long climb back up towards Cuzco :-)

Ollantaytambo..

Ollantaytambo..

Ollantaytambo..

Ollantaytambo..

Ollantaytambo..

some construction work going on here... much manual labour & transport

7am: tourist 'stuff' awaiting the daily arrival of... tourists.

.. more 'stuff'

on the mountain above Ollantaytambo..

when they had time, i.e without the Spanish snapping at their heels, the Inca stonework is truly astounding

above Ollantaytambo..

in 2009 someone became the unfortunate victim of a rockfall on the trails above Ollantaytambo..

the streets of Ollantaytambo are very 'olde worlde'... but not entirely untouched by the new :-)

Now as my time in Peru, and indeed S America, for this visit draws to a close, and despite keeping my eyes peeled, I have yet see any descendants, or their legacy, of Paddington Bear.. not even the remains of a marmalade sarnie by the road :-(

Ice cold ‘n nice rocks in Cuzco .. :-)

…despite the title the weather here is perfect.. clear days around 25 degs C with cool evenings and chilly nights…  when a title sprung to mind I was thinking more of a bottle of Peru’s finest… served ice cold :-)

a brew with a view... or a view with a brew.. acceptable either way ;-)

The last couple of days since parking my bike in the corner of my room have been wonderfully lazy, the lower altitude (3400m) and good food mean I’m feeling really good again and happy as… and having been here before I feel no pressure to do much at all ;-) I need a few days here too such that I can ‘tune in’ with my camera, I haven’t really been photographing yet… it would be very easy to take ordinary ‘postcard’  pictures here but, as in Salta, I need some time I think to synchronise myself with the beat of the city… no idea if that makes sense but it’s the best way I can describe the way I photograph in places like this. Tomorrow I’m off down to Pisac on my bike, maybe by the time I come back here at the weekend my eye will be tuned in… Some fascinating people watching here too… not so much the locals but rather the tourists… so many flavours of people to observe from a terrace on the plaza with a brew… coffee in the morning, beer in the afternoon and a pisco sour in the evening :-)

happy bikes and a Charango...

In the meantime I guess I can tell you a little about the place I’m staying.. we are three cyclists now (one of of Pete’s friends from the UK is here for a few weeks mountainbiking) so we have a room in an old and colourful colonial house just  block or so from the plaza…. about £5/night.. can’t complain :-) Rooms are arranged on two stories around a tiny courtyard open to the sky with a wonderful rickety old staircase winding a full 360 degrees around the interior.

a little extra window security for a room full of desirable widgets... the folk running this place are superb and I trust them... but there are other travellers around too... you'll have to trust me when I say the hole was already there.

La vida es buena : -) As for the rocks… well:

there's a big old Inca fort on the hill above town... called Sacsayhuaman.... nice rocks ;-)

Sacsayhuaman

Sacsayhuaman... the Spanish swiped a lot of the stones for building in the town below.. hence the slightly dog-eared look

one day one may grow up...

of a considerably more recent vintage than the Inca stuff, 1945 to be precise, there is also a 7 metre JC up on the hill with arms outstretched & an unhappy expression that suggests birdshit in his eye... the souvenir tat vendors and view of Cuzco are more interesting however

los últimos días: Puno a Cuzco

… in the words of Jim Morrison…

This is the end
Beautiful friend
This is the end
My only friend, the end
Of our elaborate plans, the end
Of everything that stands, the end…..

…ahh but I’m getting ahead of myself,  last time I wrote I was still in Puno, this is another long one by the way so you might want to get a mug of tea, or a beer or something before reading any further…

right then… you know all that stuff I said in Juli about no early starts and keeping my daily distance relatively low… bollocks, all of it, in future I think you best not pay attention to anything I write… ;-) I’ve been getting up before 7am and riding some long days… The rest in Puno did me a lot of good, I got my legs back.. well, to a degree anyway, and the journey to Cuzco was magic.. apart from the bit between Puno and Juliaca.. that was just a busy bad road and Juliaca itself very much lived up to it’s reputation as a bit of dump.. But no matter, all part of the journey :-)

Juliaca....

nicely fatigued old trucks the most interesting thing in Juliaca

Between Juliaca and the small town of Ayaviri was just 100km of open altiplano at about 4000m, not particularly exciting and the road was in pretty poor condition, a bit of a slog but a necessary one.

bleak altiplano (and a railway line) leaving Juliaca

... it did improve somewhat :-)

Ayaviri however turned out to be a gem of a town. No tourists would ever stop there so it’s very much a genuine Peruvian hill town full of good natured people with a bustling market in the streets around the plaza.

nice cathedral in Ayaviri

...such a beautiful country produces such a yucky beverage..

Ayaviri

the bike repairman, most bikes and parts are Chinese, pretty shonky stuff but interesting nevertheless :-)

Ayaviri

Ayaviri... good for oranges...

Ayaviri.. the plaza.. I have a thing about bicycles in pictures ;-)

Leaving Ayaviri the next day I rode the first 10km out of town with a young chap on his chinese-built boneshaker. He was a school teacher heading out to a village school for the day, we chatted as we cruised across the altiplano in the early morning chill. Shortly after he left me I came across another chap with a bicycle sitting in the grass at the side of the road eating a packet of biscuits.. turned out to be Pete from the UK on his way from Tierra del Fuego to “not entirely sure, probably Mexico.. via Venezuela etc”. He was riding a lovely bike, a custom Roberts with a Rohloff hub, mmmm :-) Having said that my Thorn Nomad has been a sublime tool for this trip and with a number  of interesting journeys under it’s wheels now it has acquired a nice ‘patina’ that tells of a useful life. Pete also turned out to be pretty handy with his Charango.. at the time I did wonder what was in that little stripey bag on the back of his bike.. all was revealed later in the evening.

the road to Santa Rosa...

..along the road

By default Pete and I joined forces for the remaining few hundred km to Cuzco, random company is always a good thing and especially here, other than James, Kate and Malena I’ve not met another cyclist since leaving Salta.

a very nice place to ride...

The road from Ayaviri started to climb significantly through fabulous scenery from the little pueblo of Santa Rosa to the high point of the day – the Abra la Raya at around 14500ft.

Santa Rosa: demonstrating our second-to-none bike parking skills...

Santa Rosa

Although not desperately steep, probably no more than a 6% grade the altitude required a little effort… although we didn’t help ourselves, with the UK elections so close we were talking the whole way up, and still chatting away at the summit when a tour bus pulled up and discharged it’s load of tourists all stumbling around breathlessly in the thin air :-) Most just stared at us as we sat on an old stone wall eating lunch, though one Japanese chap did say hello which was nice. By virtue of stopping for a half hour we also became something of a novel focus for a quintessential village idiot character wandering around up there who simply stood and giggled at us, an unfortunate fact of life in this part of the world. Despite our gentle protestations he insisted on standing upwind of us… so with wrinkled noses lunch was finished quickly and off we went looking forward to the descent down to Sicuani, some 3000ft lower :-)

headed towards the Abra la Raya

roadside memorials....

brooding mountain scenery high on the Abra

quite high...

yum :-)

Sadly a strong headwind robbed us of some of the pleasure of a fast descent but that was more than compensated for by meeting four friends from Quito making their way south on bicycles. The plan for their trip was to visit all the major waterfalls in South America, very much an original premise. Like the gang of Colombians I met in the Quebrada de Cafayate they were an inspiring bunch with just basic equipment and ‘panniers’ made from plastic oil/water barrels fixed to their bikes with strips of bent aluminium. Dead simple, very cheap and very effective. I love meeting folk on the road, it’s pretty special… at the risk of sounding like a pretentious twit we are all part of a global brotherhood of two-wheeled travellers :-)

on the way down...

heading south from Quito

So, into Sicuani after almost 6hrs of cycling, almost 8hrs on the road. Nothing special about the town but it has a nice situation in a cultivated valley alongside the Rio Vilcanota. As in so many places, and judging by the stares, I doubt they see many travellers… but the locals turned out, as usual, to be a friendly bunch. We found a basic place to stay for £1.50, no hot water of course but no big deal. Dinner was the usual local affair of a bowl of soup with some chicken feet and the odd kidney floating around in it followed by a quarter chicken and cold, greasy fries… hmm, it filled a hole :-) I could have cooked something I suppose but I left my fuel bottle empty since leaving Bolivia. This whole part of Peru is heavily cultivated/populated so I made no plans for camping. While eating 3 very drunk locals staggered in, one in particular barely able to stand came and propped himself up on our table for a chat… it last 5-10 minutes or so but was pretty much limited to him asking if we were from Australia and us telling him we were from England.. he was very much an alcoholic stuck record… probably a bus or truck driver about to go on shift :-)

Sicuani, on the Rio Vilcanota

Next morning, figuring we had an easy day of between 90 and 100km along the river to Urcos we didn’t leave town till 9.30am after a breakfast of bread, jam and yoghurt. We were also delayed slightly by a crazy and very noisy parade of hundreds of the three-wheel moto-taxis all adorned with balloons and streamers and so on.. no idea what it was about but the screeching horns were deafening.. I’ve got some video so I’ll post that directly.

along the road to Urcos...

We really were looking forward to a pleasant day of crusing through beautiful mountain scenery… hah, should have known better. The wind was near gale force from the north, a direct headwind funnelled through the Vilcanota river valley. In the end despite the relative lack of altitude (around 3500m) and only a few short climbs our average speed was lower than the previous day of climbing.. a result of the wind and weary legs. The scenery was typically fab however and we enjoyed a very pleasant lunch stop in the plaza of the pretty little pueblo of Checacupe about 50km from Sicuani.

riding into Checacupe

Checacupe

Checacupe: the view from lunch :-)

Urcos turned out to be another pleasant little town, again no tourists at all so very genuine, everybody was friendly, we found a nice little place to stay with colourful blankets depicting lions and bears and so on. Terrific value at less than £2 for the night … with hot water :-) Amusing to sit in a little cafe on the plaza for dinner admiring the combination of chickens turning over a wood fire with religious iconry, soft porn and horses decorating the walls :-)

colourful ruins always handy for a pee stop...

along the road to Urcos

meet Pete, if his mum were reading she probably tell him to get a haircut.. ;-)

Urcos..

From Urcos then… just 50km to Cuzco, the first half through an increasingly heavily populated valley with an obvious transition after about half distance from the openly friendly country folk to people occasionally exhibiting an open distaste for gringos… a sad consequence of tourism I suppose, and in one case we were subject to very western, very rude gestures for no reason at all other than being there. Ho hum.

loads of little pueblos strung along the road

the road to Cuzco

classic Inca stonework near Oropesa

Riding into Cuzco itself was the usual developing country scrum of smoggy buses, trucks, cars and motorbikes.. 20km of it. It also began to rain – seems the wet season hasn’t quite finished with this part of the Andes. It was while riding this busy stretch that the most remarkable thing happened.. something that as a cyclist I will never forget… a local taxi driver stopped and gave way to me at a junction.. unbelievable :-) that has never happened before anywhere in S America.. or anywhere in the world for that matter, not from a taxi-cab. He was smiling as he waved me across… more than compensation for the miserable sod back down the road with his one finger salute :-)

twit on two wheels.... :-)

Riding into the historic centre of Cuzco was magic, I’ve been here before but the majesty of the plaza still takes my breath away (photos in a few days…). I must admit I very much enjoyed a victory lap of the plaza on the wet cobblestones followed by an obligatory photo in front of the cathedral before heading to a nearby pizza restaurant for a celebratory pizza (what else), beers, apple pie and icecream.

I like this pic better, little more 'casual', lol

My odometer showed 6005km cycled from Puerto Montt as I parked my bike outside the restaurant. Not as far as I expected, but only because I got sick in Oruro and then too lazy to make the big detour to Arequipa :-) So.. the end of my journey… but not the end of my riding. I will dump my camping gear here before heading down into the Sacred Valley of the Incas for a few days. Decided not to visit Macchu Piccu again, there is a risk that with the new tourist development and so on it may spoil my memories of 12 years ago when I hiked in on a quiet, unregulated Inca Trail just before sunrise to enjoy the magnificence of the place in peaceful solitude.

With a bit of luck my rear wheel will last another couple of hundred km… 3 days ago the rear brake started grabbing on one spot of the rim, to the eye the rim is perfectly true but pulling the tyre and rim tape off revealed a crack growing on the inside of the rim.. hence the brake grabbing as the rim walls begin to spread outwards. I’m lucky it’s taken ’till now to fail. 7 years use on some pretty bloody awful roads, and in particular this journey some 1600km approx on ripio and dirt tracks with a full load, at times with an additional 10kg of water on the back. I’m not going to complain :-)

so that’s it really, it’s been a wonderful journey but also sad that it is over. I’ve cycled most of the Andes… just the Carretera Austral south of Puerto Montt to knock off one of these days, and then I suppose Central America would be the obvious next destination… For the immediate future however I am looking forward to some relaxed street photography around Cuzco and then a summer in my kayak, on my bike and on the beach at home :-)
Stay tuned, hasta pronto!

p.s. by the way, if you haven’t sponsored me for Shelterbox yet and have a £ or two to spare.. now might be a good time {hint}…I know you will ;-) As usual that big blue button at top right should do the trick.

p.p.s Cuzco being the place it is I suppose it was inevitable I’d meet someone I knew… in this case the two Aussie lasses I met in Salta and again on the shores of Titicaca. Drinky time I think… ;-)

floating on a bed of reeds…

Well I stayed in Puno an extra day, due in part to a chance chat with a local chap last night who knew someone who ran a tour boat out to the Uros Islands.. so this morning I was down on the dock at about 7.45am watching various tour groups depart on boats for the various islands scattered around the lake. My new friend showed up and I was given a ride by one of his friends on a boat heading first to the Uros Islands and then on to some other islands with a tour group for an overnight trip.. I was dropped on the Uros with a promise that I would be picked up later on by the boat that this young chap worked on… somewhat dubious I went along with it anyway… and had a terrific morning :-)

Bit of background.. the Uros islands are floating reed islands a few km offshore from Puno. The lake plants form the mainstay of their existence… their boats, houses and the islands themselves are all constructed from the reeds that grow in the shallow areas of the lake. The way of life is still primarily one of fishing, hunting and bartering with communities on the lakeshore… but tourism also now forms a part of their income, albeit a relatively minor one. Initially I had decided I wasn’t going to visit.. hordes of tourists gawping at people living an ancient, pre-Inca, way of life isn’t really my cup of tea, I’m just not comfortable with it… However I was pleasantly surprised, the people appear to have adopted the sale of handicrafts, in a particularly mellow and welcoming fashion, to visitors as part of their life without actually changing the way they live… it is, happily, very much a sustainable affair.

Being left alone on the islands after the tour boat had departed gave me a chance to have a proper look around and appreciate the tranquility of the place. The setting is magnificent and the Aymara speaking people really are very friendly. They are not entirely cut off from the modern world… solar panels were in evidence behind the reed huts and the occasional TV inside.. They also have a proper school for the children and a health centre, although apparently the latter is not used much as the villagers still prefer their traditional medicines. The islands themselves are fascinating, built on floating foundations of harvested ‘root’ matter bound together and then with a layer of reeds around 2 metres deep laid on top.. the reeds are renewed from the top as the lower layers rot, apparently an island lasts 15 years or so…  Sitting on the edge of one of these ‘rafts’ with a beer (!) I was able to appreciate the movement of the island in the wake of passing boats.

As for getting back to Puno.. sure enough, around 11.30am an empty boat showed up with my friend on board to take me to another island to meet another group on a guided tour. I felt like royalty, stretched out on the stern rail of ‘my private launch’ as we moored alongside that island. The short journey back to Puno was taken up with some exchanged lessons in English and Spanish and a genuine goodbye on arriving back in the harbour. Muy tranquilo :-) I never did make it to see the Yavari. Ho hum

I did buy a few bits and pieces too… it would have been rude not to and besides I don’t have to carry them on my bike too much longer :-)

a rock in the face… Juli to Puno

… my plan to make the most of an extra hour in bed in Juli with the change to Peru-time failed miserably.. the sun was streaming in my window at 5.30am. I felt pretty rubbish despite the sunshine.. overnight eczema around my eyes swelled them right up almost to the point of closure… pretty sore and weary. I think that happened thanks to being generally shagged out and not eating enough on arrival in Juli.. it’s hard up here sometimes.. altitude supresses my appetite and to be fair the food on offer wasn’t that appetizing. I did supplement my dinner with a pile of peanut butter sandwiches.. the last of the peanut butter found in Oruro!

on the road out of Juli

Anyway, despite the sore eyes and tired legs I was on my bike at about 8.15am… honestly I can’t understand why Peru is an hour behind Bolivia… it gets light now at 5am and dark by 5.30am… rubbish! The ride to Puno was mostly flat with just a light, but very cold, cross-headwind coming off the lake. Just some climbing towards the end of the morning. Total distance for the day was 87km, my average wasn’t too bad given my general state of fatigue and the altitude… 22.6km/hr so I was in Puno by midday.

the plaza at Llave

I did make one stop at the busy market town of Llave just 25km from Juli. I needed to supplement my breakfast so sat in the plaza, something of a curiosity for the locals, for 20 mins with some fresh bread and fruit from street vendors. The road north from Llave was in pretty bad condition and here I was also hit hard in the face by a rock kicked up from beneath the tyres of a passing truck.. that hurt and and left me with a nosebleed. Ho hum, occupational hazard.

a couple of these characters ´guard´the road about 20km south of Puno

As for Puno, I like it here… it’s a colourful place with a nice atmosphere and the people are lovely… the tourism isn’t overly obvious (aside from the ranks of tour boats down at the harbour) and I haven’t been hassled at all. Good food here too…. aside from the pricey restaurants aimed at visitors there are also a couple of very good chinese run joints here with very good, fresh, cheap food.. just as well, my appetite is huge today as my body catches up with itself. I may stay here another day, I want to make a visit to the Yavari.. she is the oldest ship on Titicaca – built in England in 1862, shipped in kit form to Arica, by rail to Tacna and then finally by mule to Lake Titicaca.. the journey took 6 years and she was finally launched on Christmas Day 1870.

lots of Mexican built 'dubs around here

From here I have little choice in my route to Cuzco… Juliaca, 45km north of here is by all accounts a dump, and the road from there to Ayaviri is also supposed to be pretty shitty. It’s a 146km leg so I am inclined to rest here a bit more so I can get through it as quickly as possible … time is on my side now, my flight is not ’till the 15th.

Puno has a lovely sandstone cathedral

more of that cathedral

I also figured I would probably go straight to Cuzco, store my camping gear there and then explore the Sacred Valley but now thinking I may detour around the Sacred Valley first… it’s 1000m lower than here so I should recover better before climbing back up to Cuzco. Haven’t decided yet whether I will revisit Machu Picchu… or instead will explore more of the area around.. which I did not do during my last visit to Peru. Hmmm …. anyway, pics follow, cheerio!

Puno... chilled.. and literally too, below freezing tonight.

Puno

Puno

Puno

murals at the souvenir market by the harbour...

3-wheel motorcycle taxis are popular around town..

.. as are cycle rickshaws

down at the harbour...

streets of Puno...

streets of Puno...

streets of Puno...

streets of Puno...

streets of Puno...

streets of Puno...

stalls along the railway tracks

the ice-cream ain't nearly as good as Argentina... but it ain't bad :-)

via Titicaca… La Paz to Peru

right then, this morning I arrived in Puno, it was 90km from where I spent the night last night in Juli, not that far but I’m exhausted so what follows is my day by day for the last few days as far as Juli… hope you’re sitting comfortably, I’ll catch up with Puno tomorrow ;-)

21 April, La Paz to Huatajata….
Ok so I finally managed to get the energy together to leave La Paz. As I write this litte bit I’m sat, having an afternoon rest, in the quiet little pueblo of Huatajata on the shores of Lake Wiñaymarca – something of an annex to the main Lake Titicaca joined via the Tiquina Straits. I had a sort of expectation that my first sight of the lake would really be quite something but that bug I caught in Oruro really knocked me sideways so although it was cool to see the mirrored sliver of water on the horizon amongst the surrounding hills I was suffering a bit on my bike so it didn’t really sink in. Now I’m here of course it’s brilliant:-) I have a cheap room with a terrific lakeside view and the usual shower arrangement of an electrical element tacked onto the end of a water pipe sticking out of the wall.

Laguna Winaymarca

Despite being gloriously sunny this afternoon it’s chilly… no more than 12 or 14 degs c. Huatajata itself is nothing special, a scruffy collection of brick buildings along the road but the setting is magnificent. I suspect, judging by the number of restaurants, that this is a popular weekend spot for La Paz residents… I ate a terrific slab of pan fried trout at one of these places for lunch – Lake Titicaca trout are among the biggest in the world.. and quite delicious :-)

outskirts of El Alto

So, back to the journey from La Paz, haha, getting out of bed this morning I still felt a bit wobbly (honestly no beer last night, just a solid dinner and an early night) but figured I’d give the climb out of the canyon a go. There are two choices… one is the new motorway with a moderate gradient… supposedly illegal to ride on but the reality is even the local coppers will tell you to use it, and the other is to follow the network of steep streets up to the northwest… Being a weekday morning the main road out was likely to be a smoggy scrum so I chose the steep route just for the hell of it… haha.. Still feeling pretty weak on my bike I made it breathlessly to the point where the gradient hit about 20% before caving in completely…

outskirts of El Alto

So instead I stuffed my bike in the back of a cab for the remainder of the short ride up to El Alto.. it was worth the few $ it cost just for the ride as the road went pretty much straight up the canyon wall… a sustained gradient of up to 30%… At times my driver had to zigzag across the street just to avoid stalling … and this was a relatively new Mitsubishi, though of course the altitude doesn’t help the engines. I was biting my nails waiting for the car to stall at any moment as it laboured slowly upwards. For a few of the steeper sections he stopped and rolled backwards into sidestreets so he could take a run up, and there were a couple of touch and go moments while downcoming traffic meant he couldn’t take the best line… It was also worth the ride to experience the craziness of life behind the wheel in La Paz. Normal traffic rules don’t apply.. the behaviour of the traffic is akin to that of a bunch of undisciplined school kids trying to get onto the bus home… just one big crush with elbows being the equivalent of the front of your vehicle.. Excessive horn use is also a characteristic of La Paz, and Bolivia in general, my driver had a very definite twitch in his left thumb hovering over the horn button…

toll road out of El Alto..

So, I was dropped on the canyon rim in the sprawling chaos that is El Alto with it’s huge mess of buses and cars all jostling for space on the road. It’s not a particularly pleasant place to ride a bike and I needed to keep my wits about me but 10km later I was clear of the place and out on the altiplano once again with the snow capped peak of Huayna Potosi at 6088m poking above the cloud to the east. It was easy riding on a good surface (toll road) with very little traffic and a tail-wind. Once near the lake the ride became very scenic as it wound it’s way around the shore and over the low hills that characterise this area.. when I say low, I mean relative to their surrounds.. the peak of every one must be above 4000m, the lake itself is at 3810m.

rural lakeside 'idyll'....

I suspect it will be trout again for dinner, having had a look around there’s little else on offer..

'nowt but trout...

There is a shop… with a very limited inventory of crackers and sardines, lol, I’ll miss the bounty of La Paz. I’m hoping I have enough fuel left in my bottle to cook some oatmeal and brew a mug of tea for breakfast tomorrow… Which reminds me, having just cleaned the jet on my stove, top tip: you can buy little 100ml bottles of alcohol all over the place – it’s brilliant stuff for cleanly priming a camping stove – reduces the amount of soot that accumulates when powering it with petrol/gasoline.

just in case the trout is 'off'

The place I’m staying is interesting in a ‘soviet block’ kind of way… I guess the building is maybe 20yrs old, but the builders/owners never really bothered to finish it off.. the room is fine in a sagging mattress style but in the hallways the parquet floors are only half done.. or maybe they were completed and fell apart. The stairway and what I suppose might have been a dining area are just concrete with a few bare wires poking out of holes in the wall. The restaurant is pretty much just a shed overlooking the lake – probably cheaper and quicker than finishing off the proper one. In the middle of the bare concrete basement there stands a lonely, dusty refrigerator with a glass door… inside are 4 bottles of local beer, previously 5… hehe;-) I would love to camp on the lakeshore here but it is all either populated or farmed so sadly it’s not an option.

model rafts for sale by the roadside

22nd April, Huatajata to Copacabana..
Proper mountain day today, only 70km but at an average altitude of about 4100m, approx 800m of climbing and a high point between 4200 & 4300m. It was a wonderful ride on a very quiet road that wound it’s way through the mountains around the lakeshore. Fantastic views (shame it was cloudy.. and cold) and a very good surface.

lake views... sadly cloudy :-(

I was on the road at 8.15am for no other reason than I was awake and ready. Every morning at the moment I have mild double vision from tiredness so the first few km each day are a bit weird until the adrenalin kicks in and my eyes and head clear. It was 25km to the pueblo of Tiquina.. named after the stretch of water here – the Tiquina Straits between Lake Titcaca proper and Winaymarca. All the vehicles go on large wooden rafts to cross, it’s about 1km across but the rafts only have tiny motors so it’s a slow process.

across the Tiquina Straits

I arrived just as a raft was leaving the slipway so rode my bike onto an adjacent moored raft, lifted my (fully loaded) bike tenderly onto the gunwale while the guys on the departing raft grabbed hold and lifted it across… I had awful visions of the whole lot falling in the gap between us and sinking without a trace…

even the big stuff goes on...

This road to Copacabana and onto Peru is not a main border crossing so it’s very quiet.. hence the reason I guess there is no bridge. Besides, a bridge would kill the village and it’s collection of cafes each side of the straits, the rafts must provide quite a tidy income stream (I paid 10b for a bike, about £1) so no idea what the bigger vans and trucks pay.

Tiquina waterfront

On the far side of the water I stopped for a break in a cafe run by an enormous lady in a faded gingham dress and green camouflage sun hat. Ordered a mug of bad coffee… I mean I didn’t specifically ask for it to be bad, but it was, and ate a packet of biscuits while admiring the interesting interior decor….

that cafe...

pick a favourite...

From there the riding was just beautiful.. hard work but worth it as the road climbed steadily, eventually leaving the lakeshore and it’s pre-Inca terraces to cross a stark mountain wilderness with just the occasional shepherd to exchange greetings with.

fab views

nice place to ride...

The day finished with a beautiful 10km , 65km/hr descent back down to the lake shore and the town of Copacabana. Days like this are just perfect :-)

the road to Copacabana

some poor soul took a flight here...

... black ice probably... or alcohol

the mountains are dotted with tiny hill farms

road into Copacabana

this bus passed me on the road into Copacabana... wondered if I had been blessed by it's passing..

23rd April, Copacabana…
Copacabana is a popular stop-off on the gringo trail for those leaving/entering Peru and with access to a couple of islands off-shore has developed into a proper little resort town. At first I thought it was hideous with masses of souvenir stalls, indifferent locals and hordes of backpackers but having been here a night now and sitting with a large pot of properly brewed coffee and a slab of banana cake I’ve decided it’s OK. The daytime is fine, all the backpackers are either on a boat to the islands or on a bus somewhere so it’s a pretty chilled place, and the indifference I experienced on arrival has warmed up somewhat as I take the time to engage with the locals.

the light up here by the lake is fantastic

There are a heap of places to stay here, the places I was recommended didn’t have room for me and my bike but a chap came after me while I was looking around on my bike to ask if I needed a room, something in some places I’d probably be wary of, but he was completely genuine with a small and tidy hostal tucked in off one off the main street. I have no view of the lake but for £2.50/night I do have a quiet, comfy place to stay with a bathroom and ‘warm’ shower. The wiring arrangement for the shower is great.. it’s wired from a chunky 250v/30A circuit breaker nailed to the wall, above the light switch, in the corner adjacent to showerhead itself. It gets a spray of water every time but so far I haven’t died so must be OK :-)

Copacabana

The advantage of stopping in a gringo town for a day is that I have access to great coffee and great food and can enjoy a peaceful lake shore (top tip, new expat cafe opened here couple of months ago called El Condor or something… not dirt cheap but fresh ground coffee and proper coffee pots, and excellent cake).

Copacabana

There are fleets of pedalos and fake kon-tiki rafts (regular boats wrapped in reeds) down on the beach but for now my only plan is to do bugger all :-) I’ll get an early night tonight and then cross the border into Peru tomorrow… I’ll not miss anything by retiring early with a good book…. I’m not really that into young gringos sporting topknots and stripey pajama trousers playing bongos in the street as they were last night… I often wonder what the locals, who work hard, often for very little, think… hmm.

pedalos...

rows of pedalos, tour boats and storms over Peru to the northwest

As for the islands, well there are some Inca ruins to look at but have seen a lot of that before.. and right now I’m just happy to be riding my bike in the fabulous scenery around here :-)

Copacabana

Copacabana

Copacabana Cathedral

Copacabana Cathedral

Copacabana

Copacabana

crosses on the mountain northeast of town

Copacabana

Oh, cool, as I write the two Aussie girls I met in Salta just walked in… see ya!

24th April, Peru :-)
Tonight I’m writing in the peaceful little town of Juli, about 80km south of Puno just above the western shores of the lake at about 3900m ASL. It was a fabulous ride to get here as the road wound it’s way around the lakeshore through tiny farming and fishing communities with the lake surface itself ruffled by a fresh breeze and sparkling in the brilliant sunlight. It was only a 70km day.. trying to keep my days short now, less than 100km if possible, so despite some significant dawdling on clifftops and so on I was here by lunchtime. Stopped in a scruffy  little cafe near the plaza, complete with 10yrs of calendars on the wall and an old TV wrapped in clear plastic showing a loud western. Lunch itself was the usual set menu deal… a bowl of soup, in this case complete with chickens feet, and a plate of rice with a very tough bit of llama rib. It’s always something of a lucky dip …!

last minute snacks..

Crossing the border was a doddle, the UK Foreign Office at the moment has posted warnings about robbery, holdups etc at this border but it was very peaceful this morning and I was through in about 15 minutes :-) As in Bolivia, so far everyone on this side of the border seems very friendly. Nice place to ride a bike :-)

yeah, in Peru at last, and the national drink Inka Cola.. tastes like crap and is a lurid yellow colour... mmm

it's harvest time here...

sheaves of wheat by the lakeshore

aside from the irony of inviting folk to a litter strewn strip of shingle this banner was rather interesting...

... the bowler hat as ladies beachwear :-)

terrific views from the road

Juli is a pleasant place for a stopover with a few colonial relics. I have a room in a small pension overlooking the tidy plaza for 15 soles (about £3.50) for the night. There is an electric shower but I couldn’t make it run warm… however I’m used to cold washes by now and really couldn’t be bothered to question it.

Juli.. the view from my gaff

Juli

Peru time is one hour behind Bolivia.. so tonight I have a cunning plan to gain an extra hour of kip, I’m still running on Bolivia time.. so I’ll eat and hit the sack on Bolivia time and get up on Peru time :-) Apparently not a good idea to be on the roads here super early, ’tis the favourite time for highway robberies when the roads are quiet.. not that it’s ever going to be a problem for me, I ain’t going to be on my bike before 8.30 at all now :-)

Juli

Juli

Juli

Juli.. the school

Juli

Juli

Juli

Shelterbox first-hand, and other stuff..

just a short post.. there is a fascinating first hand account of life as a Shelterbox Response Team member during January’s floods/landslides in Peru here: http://shelterbox.org/news.php?id=280 and if after reading it you’d like to make a donation then my JustGiving page is here: http://www.justgiving.com/mikesimagination

…as for me, well getting ready to leave Salta in the morning.. part of which involved demonstrating my intelligence by managing to sew a button back on my trousers while still wearing them… and attaching them to my boxers. So much for being a competent engineer… I’d blame it on the altitude but Salta is only at 1200m or so….  I’ve also been  chuckling the last day or so over something that Steve, another English cyclist I met, said to me while we were discussing the disproportionate number of beautiful women in this city (and indeed the country)… “..yes but they are so high maintenance” he said.. “ look at ‘em in the parks and streets clinging on to their men like there is no tomorrow…“. I nearly said “oh yes, give me my bicycle any day….” Nearly….. clearly I’m not as dedicated to my sport as I should be… hehe, last night when my dinner arrived in front of a world class cleavage and bejeweled naval I’m ashamed to admit I would not have noticed had I just been served a plate of beetles ;-)

In other news I’m very grateful to the nice folks at Road.cc for giving Shelterbox a mention, I’m a long way short of my target and any extra help is appreciated – it’s very hard to get noticed as a regular individual unless a footballer riding a unicycle in a frock…. or something…. (which is fine by the way tho I’m not inclined to wear a frock up here…) especially with so many different and worthwhile fundraising events happening at the moment. So… if you can spare a £ or $ or € or anything else then Shelterbox and I will be grateful. I will also be writing a feature for road.cc when I get home so stay tuned for that, nominally it will be June but I have this strange urge , when I get to Peru and given that further north from Cusco would be to cover old ground to instead  head west  and scoot all the way back down the Pacific coast through Chile to the very tip of Tierra del Fuego… and from there it might be possible to work passage on a  ship to South Georgia and go riding with some penguins… oh the possibilities are endless…  lol ;-)

Anyway, that’s enough from me from Salta… next time I log on I imagine I’ll be some-way along the 400-and-something km or so journey up to the border. Hopefully I won’t have the floods leaving the city that I had on the way in ;-)

hasta luego!

p.s. if you’re headed to Salta and need a place to stay I can’t recommend Inti Huasi enough, a terrific little hostal run by really lovely folk, peaceful but with good music and epic BBQs. http://www.intihuasihostel.com.ar/en/