We passed two riders, husband and wife, from the Netherlands and stopped for coffee and a chat during which they told us how they had been stopped by the police for failing to use a roundabout and also for having no insurance. The police emptied the guy's wallet of all his money before sending them on their way. We travelled together to the next town to see if we could get insurance but to no avail. After parting company we made our way, uneventfully, to Chimbote which could be called Chimbotty because it really is a dirty and pretty unwelcoming place. Very little accommodation and loads of traffic. Brian spotted the one decent hotel and there we stayed, on the sea front watching a beautiful sunset.
The following day we were off to Lima. Again through very boring desert with nothing to see and small dirty towns to go through. It was on this stretch that we were stopped by the police. Brian will tell you more about this in his blog but the long and short of it was we were pressured into paying a bribe to stop them taking the bike. When I say a bribe I really mean that Brian had to give them all the money in his wallet which happened to be the muggers wallet. They rest of the cash was secured in the pannier or about my person! Needless to say they didn't want their photograph taking and took steps to make sure I couldn't – headlights glaring at us, bonnet up to shield the cop inside and the cop outside standing in front of the number plate whilst he 'checked his oil' This experience did not enamour us to Peru. We passed through Lima very nicely and soon found that we were heading out the other side without having found anywhere to stay. It was important that we didn't travel too far out of the city because yet again we were going to head straight in more desert. More by good luck than by plan we found ourself in a small coastal town and eventually found a little hostal there. The stop was simply a sleep stop before moving on to Nazca.
The people we passed were becoming more friendly, waving and smiling and even the police acknowledged us with a friendly wave. Finding accommodation in Nazca was easy as we were approached by a young lady who led us to a hostel just on the edge of the busy and noisy town centre. We booked a flight over the Nazca lines in the desert and put our extremely stinky and skanky biking gear in for washing. The hostel environment was lovely and relaxing but that is where the relaxation stopped.
The following day we should have been collected at 9am for the flight. At 9.20 there was still no sign so Brian spoke to a guy who chased it up for us. Eventually at 9.55 we were collected, rushed out of the hostel and rushed into a hotel to watch a 30 minute video about the lines. We didn't even see the first bit before she ushered us off informing us that the plane was waiting for us. Not a good start and then when we got to the airport and were told we had to wait it was like lighting Brian's fuse and the fireworks started. To be frank, the whole experience was horrid. We didn't get the package we paid for, the little plane jumped, twisted and turned for 40 minutes and the lines were not as impressive as I had expected. It may have helped if we had know a little more about them – information we should have had from the video. The next day we took a cheap little tour to the Nazcan aquaducts. Much cheaper trip but much, much more interesting. I even got to see the insects on the cacti that are used to make lip stick.
Thank goodness I rarely use the stuff. We stayed in Nazca for three night before heading for Cusco.
The morning was lovely and bright but a bit chilly as we set off heading towards the Andes. Neither of us felt we needed warm clothes at this point. We were wearing lovely clean gear and knew we hadn't a very long a journey ahead of us. It was too far to go straight through to Cusco though it didn't look far on the map. It was a very twisting road high in the mountains and locals told us it would take about 15 hours to complete. The hostel we had stayed at recommended a place halfway. Higher and higher we climbed. Colder and colder it got and even a lot of this scenery was uninteresting and desolate. Not what we expected. We climbed to 15000 ft above sea level before stopping to put on extra layers. Believe me, at this altitude this was not an easy task. By the time I had my jacket on I was gasping for breath. We found the hotel just outside of town after asking a local guy and again found it to be a very quiet place where we were the only guests something that was becoming fairly normal as it is out of season here in Peru.
Off we went again, still riding in the Andes but now they were cultivated, green and lush. Snow capped mountains met us round some of the bends.
The sky was blue and the sun was shining. It made me start to feel a little better about Peru. The local people were waving and smiling as we passed through tiny villages and we made our way into Cusco with no hiccups.
What an entrance! We made our way to the central plaza as usual and parked the bike ready to start the often arduous task of finding somewhere to stay. In the blink of an eye we were surrounded by people, the main one being a local policeman asking lots of questions about where we were from, where we had been and where we were going. He in turn proudly told the ever increasing audience about our journey.
I felt like quite a celebrity. After taking his photograph with the shed he disappeared and quickly returned with his own camera, ordering a member of the public to take his picture with us and the bike. A guy, Walter, from a tour agency advised us of a couple of hotels and we agreed to return later to book our trip to Machu Pichu.
This trip was VERY expensive but you have to visit this historic site if you're in Peru. It would be rude not to. I desperately wanted this to be a memorable part of the journey because we had both been very disappointed with the Nazca lines. It started off very promising. The transport arrived on time, 5.45 am The train was very comfortable and we were provided a nice breakfast. We were sat across from a couple who lived in New Zealand and chatting to them about places each of us had been to helped to make the two and a half hour journey pass quite quickly. As we left the train we were given the ticket for the next part of the journey – by bus – to the top of the mountain where we met our guide, Charles Darwin. So far so good but then …..... we were told we had to collect our return train ticket from a restaurant back in the town and alarm bells started to ring. Still, it was easy to settle these as we were taken round the site.
It is in a spectacular setting and in very good condition though it has not always been protected from damage by the powers that be. Our guide was clearly very passionate about the site, the Incas and the significance of the various parts of Machu Pichu.
Back down in the town and, as we had expected, no tickets. Brian spoke to Walter who reassured us that the tickets would be there in 30 minutes. True to his word they arrived but they were not for the 3 o'clock train as we had been told. In fact, they didn't even take us back to Cusco but to a town 98kms before. Brian was absolutely furious and spent the next 45 minutes trying to get it all sorted out but to no avail. He came back to tell me that we had to wait another 3 hours for the train and we had to catch a public transport bus back to Cusco. Oh joy. Once we had resigned ourselves to our fate the wait wasn't too bad. Our return train was not a nice but went much, much quicker and we found a taxi to take us back to Cusco. Brian was still very angry and I agreed with him that we had been ripped off, yet again. Still, at least we were back and in time to go across to the Irish bar for something to eat and drink.
In the morning Brian went to the tour operator to give them what for returning an hour later with the taxi fare refunded and a promise of the extra night in the hotel to be paid for at 5 0'clock, not that we held out much hope. I spent the rest of the day uploading the SOS children's village photo album and we got ready for leaving the next day. I was starting to get apprehensive about the next port of call – Puno and Lake Titikaka. Our recent experiences of tourist attractions had left quite a bitter taste and I didn't want to travel all that way to be let down once more. However, through this fairly dark period came a ray of light. Walter had quietly been in and fulfilled the promise of payment of the extra night at the hotel. There's hope for Peru yet.
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