Bolivian salt flats

I’ve made it Potosi, Bolivia, one of the world’s highest cities at 4090m. I’m gasping for breath as soon as I roll out of breath, but it is getting better after a few weeks at altitude. I’ve been at 2000-5000 meters for much of my time in South America. The roads in Bolivia are incredible, as in incredibly bad. It reminds me of Western China, maybe worse. But good fun on a motorbike.

The last few weeks have been pretty intense. I’ve been riding pretty hard/fast, without many days off. I realized this morning that I’d only done laundry once since Colombia, which might explain that funny smell. I’ve been riding, writing and doing a wee bit of sightseeing (Machu Picchu) but not a lot of sitting around. So today is a rest day to patch clothes (yes, really, with a thread and needle), do laundry, work on the bike, email, etc.

South America is different than any other place I’ve been for the sheer scale of the land. The mountains, rivers, plains, sky, clouds, roads, everything is bigger, dustier, steeper and grittier than elsewhere in the world. The food is pretty bad (chicken, rice and potatoes. Every day) but the people are super nice, even when I spit out some garbled Spanish question at them. And I’m meeting a lot of crazy travelers on motorbikes and pedal bikes. Far more here than in Central America. I meet at least one other traveler a day.

I’ve done about 28,000 km on the bike so far…and all is well. My license plate fell off from all the rough roads, so after leaving it tucked away for about 800km I’ve now taped it to my pannier. A few bolts have vibrated out (single cylinder plus bad roads) which I replace as fast as I can (like the engine mount that fell out). And the bike got pretty salty on the salt flats…so I found a car wash and gave her the first wash of the trip. The “discount” front tire I bought in Panama is falling apart, literally, and I hope and pray it lasts until Santa Cruz. The panniers are standing strong despite me knocking over a few stone fences with them along the way. My boots are at the shoe repair shop at the moment…gear never lasts when you really put it to the test. And my body…well, I’m tired, got a sore arse, am sunburnt and wind-chapped, but very happy to be on the road.

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Getting a shoe shine while in line to cross the Peru-Bolivia border. I stood in this line for 1.5 hrs and then was kicked out when I refused to pay a bribe due to a piece of paper I lost. Then I found the paper, and they had to stamp me through. Ha!

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This road will take you home son…to somewhere anyway. Up in the Bolivian highlands, without a proper map, relying on the compass and landmarks. (Like, keep that massive volcano to your left)

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We (a German biker I met and rode with for 3 days and I) drove about 30km of the softest, dustiest sand road you can imagine. It was up to 30cm deep and bone dry. I fell off 4 times, but going so slow there was no problem. I was sneezing dust for 2 days, and it was worse because all this dusty gear goes into my tent at night! We camped in an empty sheep pen (stone walls make good shelters) and I think the sheep sneezed when they were chased into the pen the next day.

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The Uyuni salt flats, up at around 3600m, fairly simply blew me away. I drove about 100km across the flats, total white world. The salt is flat, hard and fairly smooth. I read about this place as a kid, and was literally giddy with excitement to actually ride my bike across it. I took some salt to use in my next camping meal.

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A woman (?) living on the edge of the salt flats.

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Just happy to be here. This was one of my big “destinations” of the trip.

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That’s real salt of the earth.

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Kinda contrasty for my camera, the volcano next to the salt flats. But it looked amazing.

Machu Picchu ++

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Cusco is tourist hell, totally driven by the tourist dollar. This is the jumping off point for all tourists on their way to Machu Picchu. A horrible place to be, but still pretty at night.

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Machu Picchu, a 15th century Inca city that sits at about 2,500 meters in the Andes. Incredible to see it for myself.  incredible to actually see it for myself.

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I got there at 7am, just as the mist was clearing to reveal the mystical city.

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Mountains around Machu Picchu

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I hiked up Machu Picchu Montana for a top-down view…nearly killed me though.

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Just some more mountains…scenery here is stunning. I nearly run off the road looking around me sometimes,

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Brewing some morning tea at a campsite.

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20121026-174107.jpgArrived in Puno, Peru, a lake town, to a huge festival. This is my last stop in Peru.

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Ride to Cusco

I’ve just arrived in Cusco, a small city in the middle of the Peruvian mountains that is a total tourist nightmare. Lovely colonial buildings and old cobbled streets though. This is the main town near Machu Picchu, the ruins of the ancient Aztec city. I’ll likely stay here a day or two and get some writing done, although prices are triple what they are elsewhere in Peru, and then go see Machu Picchu before heading to Bolivia.

I was in Huacachina (pictures in previous post), which is about 750km from here. I took two days to ride over, camping along the way. Most of these pictures are of the scenery along the way. Impressive mountains, with the road often topping 5,000 meters.

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A very tired and dirty rider after 10 hrs on the road.

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High altitude lake. I was driving around on a path looking for a place to camp, but the wind coming off the lake was bitterly cold, so I continued on looking for some shelter. It was sunny, but cold enough that there was snow in the shade and the water had ice around the edge.

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And then I found this little refuge. A broken down herder’s hut just big enough to fit my tent, and some pretty splendid views. Only problem was that I was at around 5,000 meters, so I had a headache, felt dizzy, and was panting like a dog. Made for a troubled night of sleep, but it was well worth it.

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There are heaps of wild llamas running around on the plateaus. They make a very odd sound, a cross between a bleat, a yelp and a belch. And they all defecate in one spot. No, really. I actually saw one go to the designated crapping spot, do his thing, and then wander off. There were only turds visible in these areas. Maybe the altitude was playing with my head, but that was my impression.

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Hour after hour of this, with some dirt side roads thrown in occasionally for a bit of fun. I’m getting pretty good at curves by now.

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The scale of this landscape is breathtaking. Huge, huge valleys, massive distances, and crystal clear air so you can see it all.

Coastal Peru

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The fishermen in Huanchaco, Peru, which is on the coast just north of Lima, use an ancient reed boat to go fishing. One man, one boat. They kneel in them and paddle out to sea.

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Huanchaco, Peru

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Reed boat in Huanchaco.

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I spent more than a day driving along the Pacific Ocean coast. In Peru the desert leads right to the sea. When I saw the road would soon take me away from the sea I drove down to the beach for a bit. My first attempt — cutting through a luxury housing development to get to the sea — didn’t turn out great. Thankfully the guards who came to chase me away also helped me get my bike unstuck from the soft sand. I drove a few more KM and found another access point where I could stop and say goodbye to the Pacific. I won’t see it again on this trip.

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Hotel in Huacachina, a small oasis town near Ica, a city that was nearly destroyed by an earthquake a few years back. This place was overrun with tourists doing tourist things, like climbing into dune buggies to be driven around the sand, or paddling around the small lake on small boats. But it was still a nice setting.

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Sand…and more sand, and blue sky. That’s the Peruvian coast in a nutshell.

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Ceviche, which is raw fresh fish marinated in lemon and chilli, and Inca Kola, the local soft drink. I’ve had my fill of both, although both are very good. They’re both staples here.

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Goodbye Pacific Ocean

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I’m still upright…

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More sand and blue sky.

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I found an odd little park, called Reserva Nacional Lomas de Lachay, formed by an oasis area in the desert. After days of arid, sandy, windy landscape, suddenly I was in a misty green jungle. The ecosystem is created by mist that forms in the area. It never rained, but my gear and I got soaked from the heavy mist. Lovely, mysterious little camping spot, and I had the whole reserve to myself.

 

Ecuador Express

I crossed into Peru on the 14th, slept near the border, and then rode about 500km into the country yesterday. It’s been a long haul of riding from Colombia. I made it across Ecuador in three days of solid riding. I realized I’m well behind schedule after faffing about in Central America and Colombia, and want to make sure I have plenty of time with the Mennonites in Bolivia and Paraguay. So I’ve been hitting the road hard. But I’m loving the riding. I’m usually on the road by 6:30 or 7:00 am, and ride for 10-12 hours, then repeat. It doesn’t leave much time for blogging, I’m afraid.

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Ecuador was mostly mountain riding, much of it above 3000 meters. It was a relief to ride in cooler weather after all the heat and humidity of Central America. The towns and much of the rural areas reminded me of northern/western China. Dry, dusty, gritty, grimy. Unpainted brick buildings, and when they are painted it’s with product or political adverts. But clearly there’s some new money around, all from oil I think. New cars on the roads, lots of new, big houses.

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I’d hoped to do some camping in Ecuador, but I wasn’t planning out my days well enough, and always ended up in some gritty little town at night, so that’s where I’d sleep. The one day I did make it to a national park, late, in the dark, they turned me away, saying that they were having security problems in the park and that it was unsafe to camp. So I backtracked down the mountain and found a little cabin with a fireplace.

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My first flat tire of the trip. I’d been carrying a new rear tire since Panama, so decided the old one was bald enough (and very thin, I realized when I took it off) and opted for a new tire and tube. Problem was, the new tire was very stiff, and my little traveling tire tools were not up the job. I managed to flag down a car –driven, of course, by another motorcyclist — and he drove me and my wheel to a town 10km away to get the tire changed while his wife watched my bike on the roadside. Came back, thought all was right, and put the wheel back on and loaded up. Then I realized I’d pinched the tube in my frenetic attempts to put the tire on. I tried pumping it up to drive a short distance…but the hole kept ahead of the pump. This time I had no one to watch my bike…took the wheel back off, locked the bike up as best I could and hitchhiked back to the tire shop, got it fixed, hitchhiked back to the bike, all was well. Four hours later I was back on the road. Going shopping for new tools in the next big town.

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Gorki Mayorga, the man who came to my rescue and gave me a ride. His wife, also a journalist, stayed behind and watched the bike for me while we went to the shop.

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All well so far. The bike is standing up pretty well, despite the stray dogs that throw themselves at me. KLR 2, Dogs 0. (although the last one broke my improvised tool box when I hit him.)

 

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