Pleasure and terror

The next place we visited was Puno. It was a nice ride to the city but difficult to find the plaza so we hired a cab to lead us there. A fantastic solution and it takes such a lot of pressure off when trying to find your way round the strange cities with noisy and erratic drivers. Brian trekked round the streets and found us a nice hotel that offered us a cheap rate due to a low number of tourists and we booked our last tourist activity through the receptionist. Again, no receipt which unnerved us a little but as it turned out we didn't need to worry. Into town for a quick bite to eat and then we experienced the real persistence of street sellers. We stopped to look at some sheepskins but realised they were processed so we said sorry and walked on. This little, elderly lady then took it upon herself to chase us through the street, shouting things in spanish and trying to block our way. She chased us all the way to the hotel and then continued to shout through the door at us. Very embarrassing and unnerving.

The next day we were collected at 6.45am and taken to the motorboat. Our tour guide told us all about the reed islands on Lake Titikaka and their inhabitants. It was a beautiful, warm day but this was surpassed by the beautiful and warm welcome of the islanders. After a brief demonstration of how the islands are made we were invited by an islander to look around her home. She was so very proud and invited me to put on some traditional dress. Now ladies, this is not a good look. It makes these 4ft 10in womwn look like diddy men and even at my giant height of 5ft 2ins I still looked like a very colourful cube on two legs. Still, I didn't want to offend her so I dutifully put these on much to Brian's amusement. I've never known him take so many photo's!

A quick visit and hard climb up Isla Tequile (which had amazing views of the lake) and a 2hr 45min boat ride back to Puno filled the rest of a very enjoyable day. Thank goodness.

The next day, Friday the 13^th saw us on our way to Moquegua on the way to the Chilean border. We had studied the map and Brian had looked on google earth and we had decided to take the direct route to this town. After a lot of difficulty finding a petrol station in Puno we finally got under way. The road seemed a little rough but was quite straight and tarmacked.

However, we hadn't gone very far before we had to stop and put lots more layers on. It was starting to get very cold. Good progress was made and it was looking like we would get to Moquegua in plenty of time to ring Jack (Brian's great nephew) to wish him happy birthday. Then we hit the start of the roadworks. There were little stretches of road in between but pretty quickly it became one long continuous length of unmade road under construction, a bit like the Dalton Highway. I got off and walked at one point because it was too difficult to ride two up through this slimy stuff.

It didn't get much better as we progressed. Once we were out of the roadworks we were into the desert sand, something neither of us were expecting and without much warning the front end of the shed went from under us and we were down. Now it's not the first time this has happened so I was ready and just rolled away from the shed but Brian got his foot caught under the pannier. I was horrified and praying that he hadn't done any damage to his foot. Without turning green or any of my clothes tearing and becoming tatty rags I mustered up enough strength to lift the shed high enough for Brian to get his foot out which thankfully was uninjured. We considered turning back but then, foolishly, agreed that the road must get better a little farther on. I suggested that I walk behind the shed until the ground got firmer which it did just around the next bend. It was still sandy but not lots of loose soft stuff. I got back on the shed, off we went …..... more soft stuff and over she went again. No injuries, a brief planning meeting and on we went. We could see what we thought was the main road and agreed that we could make it there, me walking and Brian riding slowly ahead.

This was very tiring especially as we were at altitude and it really took it out of me but I think what worried me the most was that we had seen only one truck in all this time. The feeling of isolation was overwhelming and sometimes Brian and the shed were just like a little dot on the horizon.

There were no road signs and the tracks in the sand forked with no indication as to where we should go. Luckily, the truck came along at one of these junctions and the driver told us which way to go. Left to our own devices we would have taken the wrong road. Brian had another 'off' without me on the back and looked absolutely exasperated and frustrated with himself. We finally reached what we thought was a main road and to my absolute dismay found it to be exactly the same as the road we had just travelled. I felt like crying but what use would that be. By this time were were past the point of no return and had to continue.

The sky was now starting to show signs of an incoming storm but we carried on. The road was starting to climb a little and I found it harder and harder to keep up any pace. Then the heavens opened and the rain was icy cold. The wind had whipped up quite fiercely and it just felt too difficult to keep going. Brian came to meet me and suggested that we put the tent up to shelter us and to try to get warm. We were both dripping wet and had very little energy left. I was frightened that if the shed went over again I wouldn't be able to help him lift it up and then we really would be in a sticky situation.

As we were putting the tent up a couple of guys on off roading bikes stopped and spoke to Brian. I was just shivering, cold and wet and continued to put up the tent as they told him this was too dangerous and that there was a good chance that the tent would blow away and we would be at risk. They very, very kindly agreed to wait for us to put everything away and then ride with us so they could help us to pick up the shed if she went over again. Despite the cold and the wet I felt a lot better knowing we were no longer alone. It was a slow ans tenuous ride and I could sense that Brian was anxious and wary of the track – that's all it was - a track in the sand. Again, without the guidance of these chaps there was a very good chance we would have been lost in the desert as the road split and there were no signs directing us.

100 yards from reaching the tarmac road and the shed went down.... again. This time she went over on the other side and I wasn't ready. I twisted my leg badly and actually felt something snap. The pain was excruciating and I couldn't move. Poor Brian. He was so worried and just didn't know what to do to help me. Once I was up on my feet I knew there was no broken bones and agreed to travel the rest of the way on the back of the other guy bike. It seemed much easier to get on because it was a smaller bike. Not so. I tried to get on in the same way as I did the shed and get again I couldn't supress a scream brought on by the agonising pain in my left leg. It caught me off guard and I really didn't want to give Brian any cause to worry about me, but I couldn't help it. Still, we eventually made it to the tarmac road and the rest of our journey.

It was freezing. The storm was on us full force. My jacket wouldn't zip up because there was sand in the teeth so I had to hold it together. I couldn't put my leather gloves on because I couldn't find them so I had thin off road gloves on. We couldn't communicate with each other because we hadn't plugged in the intercoms. I cannot describe the pain of the cold, the feeling that this was never going to stop because the storm was following us. I can remember the point when I realised how high we were and just what the consequences of our situation could be . It was when I could no longer see through my visor because it had frozen over. Initially I had to leave it open a bit because it had become foggy with condensation. Once it had frozen over I then noticed that icicles had formed on the edge of it and I knew then that we were at very, very high altitude in freezing conditions and any pain in my leg became a secondary problem.

I also became aware that Brian must be almost hypothermic because I was sat on all the layers he had worn previously and also one of his gloves. He was riding in just a t-shirt and his jacket. I kept giving him a hug to try and boost his moral and let him know I was ok. I knew he felt terrible about the whole thing. No matter how cold I got, I knew I had to dig deep and think positively to get through this. Then, finally, we saw sunshine in the distance and I knew if we could just keep going we would finally reach some warmth. We started to descend and we got closer and closer to the sunshine. Finally we arrived at Moquegua and the Hotel Colonial. We were greeted by an amazing hostess who promptly directed her staff to get me upstairs and sent extra blankets etc to get us warm. We were both shaking like leaves. I needed the help and support of the staff to manage to get up the stairs but man – the bath I had that night was the best in the world. As for Brian, I still don't know where he found the depth and resolve to ride the bike in those conditions with limited protection from the extreme cold, but what I do know is he's my hero, my husband and I love him.