Helen
In the end we spend 9 nights in Huaraz, the popular mountain town surrounded by the Cordillera. I was here six years ago and it’s good to be back, it feels like nothing much has changed, even the nice cafe bar that I spent time in is still here. It’s a bustling town, the centre for anyone wanting to hike or mountaineer in the Cordillera Blanca, and so is touristy but it has a good relaxed vibe. We spend five days relaxing, wandering around the cafes and restaurants sampling the coffee and vegetarian food on offer.
Then we hire two oversized rucksacks from a nearby hotel, pack our essentials and head off on an overnight hike up to Laguna Shallap, a green lake overlooked by glaciated peaks. It’s a beautiful sunny walk up through the valley, although hiking with huge heavy rucksacks offers a whole new level of pain! For once it’s not my legs hurting but my shoulders! But we have the path to ourselves, it’s not a popular hike and so we don’t see anyone the whole time, apart from two campesinos collecting wood.
The lake is a beautiful emerald green when we finally arrive, the blue sky making way for some clouds, the mountains glaciers looking fragile in the wind. There’s a disused hut there so we set up camp inside. As the sun sets behind the mountains the light of the moon shines bright on the opposite side and it eventually rises, making the glaciers glint and sparkle. It’s a sleepless night at 4300m high, but it’s the warmest I’ve been for a while, as I slowly peel off the layers.
The next morning we take our time waking up, lying in the morning sun drinking tea and doing some yoga, a luxury we don’t normally have when we’re cycling. Then we pack up and head back down along the river, huge boulders lining the u-shaped valley. It’s nice to use the legs in a different way for a change, although I do end up with two blisters! We have another two days relaxing in Huaraz. The mornings are the best, sitting in the garden of our hostel, the sun hitting our faces as it rises and warms us up. It’s been so nice being here, I could easily stay a month and drink coffee and occasionally hike, but the weathers changing and we need to keep heading south before the dry season ends.
We pack our bikes and head off once again, the rain catches us this time and it’s a bit of a shock! From being too hot in shorts and t-shirt we’re quickly in full waterproofs and gloves. We set up camp by the river and sit in the tent listening to the rain. In the morning the cloud is still low but as we make tea and pack away our things the cloud slowly lifts until we’re left with blue sky and sunshine. The road is in poor condition and it’s tough going. Once again I’m really not sure I’m enjoying these tough ascents and question what I’m doing. I really enjoyed just stopping at Huaraz and don’t feel I want to push myself to the point of suffering and unenjoyment. I’ve suffered enough in the past few years. At 2pm and 4600m high we get caught in a hailstorm. Luckily we’re right next to a river with a flat place to camp so we quickly throw the tent up with freezing cold fingers, throw our belongings in and dive in for shelter. After about an hour it passes but dark clouds still linger above us. It’s a beautiful sky as the sun sets behind the mountains and casts shades of orange, red and yellow over the mountains.
In the morning we awake to a scattering of snow on the tent, and cloud, which we’re certainly not used to in Peru. It takes us a while to get going, packing away slowly hoping the sun will appear, but it doesn’t. So we set off in full winter kit, minus our boots, which we’d stupidly sent in a parcel, along with some other things, on a bus down to Cusco, to be picked up in a few weeks time. So sandals and socks it was! We soon warmed up, climbing to 4850m and up and over the first pass, but descending was really cold, so everything went back on as we climbed up and over the second pass of the day. The clouds darkened whilst we ascended and it started to snow, swiftly followed by sleet! It was quite atmospheric and certainly a change from the blue skies we’d been used to, but it did make me feel a bit anxious and silly that we were this high without warm shoes or boots. Fortunately the sleet didn’t last long and the sky cleared as we crossed over the second pass. The views were glorious, glaciated mountains, vertical rock formations and strata, purple, pink, blue and green coloured stone, a geologists dream I’d imagine.
It was still cold and so we kept all our layers on as we descended 16 miles on perfect asphalt road down into Huallanca, where we had two dinners to make up for our lack of food the previous days. We didn’t really want to be constantly cycling in poor weather conditions (maybe me more than Chris!), so we devised a plan to try to get ahead of the bad weather and back into the sun. We got a collectivo (a shared taxi) to Huanuco, a large town east of where we were, and then a bus to Cerro de Pasco, a mining town south, and then continue our route from there, hopefully back in the sun!
The collectivo journey was only 82 miles but it crossed several passes and the road, even though it’s one of the main mountain roads, was horrendous in parts, single dirt track with many landslides. We were held up at roadworks at one point and all together the journey took over 5 hours. We arrived in Huanuco in the dark, disorientated, the noise of beeping tuk tuks and the busy market an assault to our senses. The tension is rising as we try to find a hotel, when a couple approaches us and asks us if we need help. The next minute they’re insisting we stay with them, it’s much safer. There’s always slight trepidation when you agree to these things, especially when we’re being led down a dark alleyway and I wonder if this is the last time I’ll see daylight. But I’m learning to listen to my intuition and trust in the process, and once again this turns out to be more than ok. The dark alleyway turns into a tranquil se tent garden away from the noise of the busy city. And more then that, our hosts, Zara and Marces are super health conscious and so we spend that night and the next day being fed all sorts of fruit, vegetables, quinoa porridge with cacao and maca, lots of fresh fruit from their garden and coffee.
We learn about their family; they have five children but sadly their eldest son Jonathan died two years ago tragically. I can’t imagine the pain they must be going through, he was only twenty. We meet Zara’s ‘mammi’ who is lovely, she’s 86 and she’s a vegetarian which is very unusual for Peru. She’s really excited to meet two other vegetarians. We learn more about the Peruvian culture and the country, they play and sing traditional Peruvian songs for us, and show us around the city. We stay for two nights, and have the best nights sleep. I really love these moments, where language or lack of doesn’t really matter, there are so many other ways to communicate. I often think that humankind is the cause of a lot of our worlds problems, but in moments like these I realise that our real strength is human kindness, the ability to reach out and help others, showing compassion and kindness.
We say our goodbyes and promise to keep in touch. We cycle to the bus station and load our bags and bikes once again under the bus. It’s a 3-hour journey to Cero de Pasco, a mining town 4300m high, where we’ll cycle south and rejoin the Peru Divide route. In Cero, we end up in possibly the grottiest hotel yet, squashed in a small room with no toilet. But we don’t stay long, we head out and eat chifa. Next day we cycle alongside Laguna Junin, Perus second biggest lake. It’s in the National park but it’s very contaminated with all the mining surrounding it. It’s cold when we arrive in Ondores, a sleepy little village. We ask the locals if there’s anywhere to camp and they show us the local museum and say we can stay the night! It’s interesting setting the tent up amongst dozens of stuffed birds and animals! It’s still cold the next morning and for the first time since being in South America I cycled in trousers all day!
So it turns out the next road is one of the main east-west roads to Lima, it’s a crazy relentless 30 mile ascent to the top of the pass at 4868m high. The road is full of buses, trucks, combis and cars all trying to overtake each other. It’s by far the worst road I’ve been on so far in South America and not enjoyable at all. The scenery isn’t great either, it’s a huge mining area and so the beautiful landscape is cut up, quarried and scarred. Polluted lakes and railway lines. The 15 mile descent to a small village called Chicla is at last enjoyable as we’re finally faster than all the artic lorries and so it’s a smooth peaceful journey down. Here we ‘camp’ on the second floor of the central mercado, it’s noisy but warm at least!
Once again I’m really questioning what I’m doing. I didn’t enjoy today at all, in fact at one point I got so angry I screamed and swore like I’ve never done before! I thought Chris had his earphones in but unfortunately he didn’t! He must have thought I was shouting at him because the next minute he’s shouting back at me and we have a brief non face to face screaming match. It doesn’t last long as at 4300m high you find you need to start breathing again! It’s not like me at all! This journey, if nothing else, has given me a real insight into a part of my personality I haven’t really seen before. My shadow! I wouldn’t say I’m generally an angry person but I’ve shocked even myself today!
The next day we’re back on dirt tracks and although it’s hard work and often steep and slow going, I have to admit it’s much nicer. There’s no traffic, there’s generally great views and always a good spot to camp. Tonight’s is next to a large lake with flamingoes wading in the shallows. At the head of the lake there’s a huge glaciated mountain and we sit outside and eat dinner, watching the sunset cast a red light over the clouded mountain. We wake up a beautiful clear day and the sun is rising by 7am warming our cold bones and defrosting the tent.
We climb again for 9 miles up to 4930m high. These passes are difficult, these ones are particularly steep and I have to push in places. We pass llamas, all with curious eyes on us. The last mile seems to go on for the longest time and even Chris has a stint of pushing his bike, which must mean it’s difficult. But the rocks and mountains around us are shades of red, green, blue, silver and gold, so many minerals, no wonder there’s so much mining going on around here! At the top we put on all our layers as it’s starting to hail, and quickly descend 10 miles, before crossing the river and finding a quiet spot to camp among giant boulders, sheltering us from the wind and rain.
The next morning is a blue sky beautiful day as we set off on our last pass before we drop down to the coast. It’s steep! But the views are stunning as we round each switchback, first a lake then snow capped peaks with gigantic glaciers, rugged rocks and bird song. On the way up there’s roadworks and the road is churned up so we have to push the bikes for at least a mile. We eventually reach the top at 4700m high as the blue sky is slowly changing to cloud. The 360’ views from the top are spectacular and I place some stones on top of each other for lost family and friends and say a little thanks for allowing me to experience this.
We quickly put on all our layers again and start the descent. It’s not the usual steep switchbacks but more of a gentle descent which I enjoy as it allows me to look around a bit more and take in the scenery. The road undulates and turns and we pass the occasional tiny round stone building with thatched roof, I can’t believe people survive up here. I experience what the Peruvians call ‘el silencio’. If you stop moving and just listen there’s absolutely nothing, not a sound to be heard for miles. The views are endless.
We eventually drop down into a small village on the edge of a lake called Tanta. We have lunch is a tiny dark ‘restaurant’ and it’s almost 3pm so we decide to stay the night. We’re still at 4300m here and I wanted to be lower to get a better nights sleep but it’s cold and it looks like the weather is changing again. We find a hospedaje and I have my first shower in 6 days – the water is positively freezing, so cold my head hurts when I put it under, but I’m so desperate to feel clean I don’t care. Chris goes in after me, and shouts me in to show me the switch for the warm water!! We wander around the small village, tiny dark houses with no heating, no chimneys for fires. Women sit outside in their woolly ponchos chatting and knitting, children run around happily playing. I wonder how they survive, it’s freezing and I long to be able to flick the central heating on, switch the kettle on for a cup of tea to quickly warm up. They don’t have any of this yet they seem perfectly happy. It’s beautiful here in the mountains but it’s hard work just surviving.
The next day we follow a beautiful river called Rio Canete from its source and will follow it for the next few days until it empties out into the Pacific Ocean. It’s unlike any other river I’ve ever seen, emerald green in colour as it ambles slowly down the valley, sometimes turning into a Laguna or two before returning to its snake like river then it branches out like tree roots, creating tiny waterfalls. This goes on for miles. We follow it, as the road undulates and follows it’s trail before stopping at a small village called Vitis. It’s getting late and we’re too far away from the river to camp so we ask a teacher at the local school if we can camp in the school grounds. He says yes with pleasure.
The next day we drop slowly out of the tree line following the river, lush green valleys, meandering around tree lined corners, the colours are beautiful. There’s Birdsong, which I hadn’t realised was missing until I notice it again. Eventually the scenery changes as we go lower and it becomes drier, more arid, the trees disappear and it looks more desert like. It also gets hotter. We stop after 60 miles in a small town Catahuasi, and sit in the plaza with wine and plastic cups. It’s nice to be able to sit outside again at night, listening to the birds. As we descend further I notice banana trees once again, and then mangos and papaya. We stop outside a house selling their local fruit, we buy bananas but they also give us three avocados, lemons and a new fruit we haven’t seen before, it’s small like a quince apple but is softer and sweeter. It feels a bit like the Caribbean again, and as we get closer to the sea it’s definitely more touristy. We stop at a winery and pisco shop and sample loads of flavours! It seems to take an age to finally reach the sea, I thought we’d see it miles before we reached it but we don’t. We climb one final hill and drop down past very desert conditions with villages full of tiny wooden shacks before a long stretch of road and we finally hit Cerro de Azul, a small coastal town. We ride through town and I finally see the sea! I stop and listen to the waves. It feels strange after all this time to finally see the sea again, it feels good, almost like home. We walk over the soft warm sand and dip our feet in, it’s surprisingly cold although it’s the pacific so I’m not sure what I expected.
We sit on the beach and watch the sunset until it goes dark then we ride silently down to the far end of the beach and find a space to camp. We have the best nights sleep in a long while, lulled by the gentle to and fro of the waves. I awake at 5.30am, excited to see the sea again. The sea is beautiful, but I’m shocked by the ugliness of the beach, down this end it’s littered with plastic – plastic bags, plastic cartons, plastic bottles, cigarette butts, beer cans and more. It makes me feel so sad that this beautiful nature surrounding us is being ruined by thoughtless human hands. It also really makes me appreciate our beaches and coastlines back home.
We stay another two days here, relaxing and swimming, before moving further down the coast, visiting Pisco, famous for Peru’s national drink and it’s namesake, Pisco. We camp on the seafront again, but this time we’re invited to camp on Victors land. He’s a marine biologist and very keen to help clean up the beaches. He has an allotment by the sea with tables and chairs completely made from recycled wood dredged up. He also has 3 kittens not more than 3 weeks old that he found abandoned in a bag on the beach.
We move further south to Paracas and visit the national park. It’s a peninsula on the coast but surrounded by desert. We hope to see seals and sea lions but we see neither. We do, however, hot the 3000 mile marker on our way and we have a celebration in the desert. We meet an American from Florida who now works in Lima but has a house on the beach. He says we can camp in his garden, next to the beach. We awake to a mirror sea, so calm, and full of flamingos trying to find their breakfast! It’s beautiful. It’s great to spend some time by the sea again, that’s where my heart will always be. But for now, we head back up to the mountains on a bus to Cusco. We’ll spend a week or so here, relaxing and planning the next part of our journey through Bolivia.
