Never ask directions!

 
From Cajamarca and my previous post I continued south towards the town of Cajabamba. That irritating cyclist knee had come back with avengence and i was once again hobbling up a hill in the late hours of the day in order to make it to the next town. I made it to a town called San Marcos, a hot, sweaty, ugly looking town but i cant say i wasnt pleased to be there. After getting stuck in a beer trap with two locals in the plaza I found a cheap bed and was out cold. Despite this early bedtime I woke up at 11.30am the next day which really confused me as my natural body clock almost always draggs me out of bed by 6am. I made it 4km before realising I was not well, I had zero energy and felt nautious. I rolled back downhill to the hostal and hardly left the bed for four days. Diarrea nautia and feverish dreams tormented me untill i almost went crazy from the stench of my cheap room and though still sick decided to make a dash for Lima on the bus in order to meet Sean who was due to arrive that weekend.
I Spent a great few days in Lima recovering and catching up with some good friends I had met it Haiti.

Leaving Lima was certainly an unpleasant experience. A full day cycling on 5 lane highways battling with the heat the smog and not really noing where the hell we were. It took us most of the day to get out of the city after some faffing around in the morning repacking seans bike. by the afternoon we were both spent and checked into a cheap hostal. called the sunset inn, the ceiling had a huge mirror on it and we realised in the morning that we actually had to pay for the extra hours we slept in. I dont need to explain what kind of place it was. The next day was almost as unpleasant, slowly climbing up through dirty subburbs back up towards the mountains. half way up a heard a thud and was pulled backwards. My rack had come unattached from the frame and fell back bending my derailer into the wheel and ripping out two spokes. this proved rather annoying as did the fact that all the bicycle shops where either closed for lunch or seemed to not really exist. We spent a good couple of hours on a wild goose chase before eventually finding a guy who was open in a small neiborhood off the highway.

That afternoon took us up to a town called Santa Aulalia where we were invited by my friend Claude to stay at his mothers place up in the mountains. We met Claudes mother Silvia in the plaza and she led us up the steep 3 km track leading to her place in her landrover on route my derailer decided to plunge back into my wheel and turned everything into a mangled mess, I took my chain off bend the drailer back and was kindly tugged up the rest of the way to Silvia's place. A stunning house and a stunning location, we couldnt quite believe how lucky we were to have such hospitality and we made the most of it for a rest day and I took the opportunity to sort out my bike.

Off again up the busy narrow Carretera central, the only road directly into the mountains from Lima. There was absolutley no space for a cyclist and far too much traffic so after climbing  a good 40km and countless near encounters with  extremely large aggressive vehicles i decided that it really was not worth it as we had a 5000m pass ahead of us on the same road. We decided to hitch a ride to La Oroya and the hope of a friendlier road. Luckily an empty  truck stopped for us and for a small fee carried us over the 5000 meter pass. We sat in the back of the cab chewing on coca leaves as a storm rolled in and felt as if we had made the right choice.We only had to put up with the torrent of very odd questions belted at us with excessive decibels that i have become accustomed too by now. The driver insisted on addressing me as `gringito` despite having introduced ourselves several times.

We arrived still in shorts and tshirts at night in the mountain village of La Oroya and made a quick shivery dash to the nearest hostel where we found a very cosy room for around 6 quid. dethawed ourselves and cooked up some lentils on tha camp stove.

The following 2 days were a breeze. From La Oroya to Jauja was 95 km of flat or slight downhill asphated road running along side a river. The scenery was beautiful and we made excellent timing as the cyclingt felt almost effortless after the previous few days. The climate was cool and the sun was out. The second day took us to Huancayo by lunch time, A large sprawling uninspiring city. We made for the main plaza and a plate of Chuafa (fried rice) and escpaped the midday head for a few hours.

From Huancayo the climbing started again, leaving the city behind in the mid afternoon we started to climb out of the valley towards the town of Pampas. The road prooved to be one of the hardest i had yet experienced which muct have been quite a shock for Sean for whom this was his first week of cycling in the Andes. Some parts of the road sucked the energy out of out as they seemed in a hurry to reach the top and ignored the very convenient switchback method that most roads adhere to. after 25 km we decided to make camp Luckily just as we arrived we met the land owners a family of herders coming down from the higher plains and we were able to ask permision to camp out. They happily agreeed and we set up camp in a nice sheltered spot up on the hill. We watched an angry looking storm perform in the distance and placed bets on whether it was coming for us or not. Luckily it spared us but the atmosphere was fantastic as we watched it from a distance the thunder roared and the lightning lit up the sky.
 

The following day was incredible we continued climbing, the road a rough rocky steep affair but not quite as steep as the previous evening. We took the backroute for this stretch to avoid the busier roads and I think we definately made the right choice ( i`m not sure if Sean would agree with me on that) there was no denying the tranquility and isolation of our road choice. After reaching the small town of Pazos where we ate lunch under the shelter of the empty village market place and spoke with a few bewildered locals about our trip. One old man wanted to buy Seans camera from him ( a brand new dslr) I am not sure if he really knew what it was but i told him if we ever returned we would consider it. After this sleepy town we made our way towards Pampas, Onroute i was advised of a shortcut which would supposedly cut off a few kms. The road was of an even rougher grade and narrower cutting into the side of the mountain. It was stunning and the only traffic we encountered was a gang of school kids on their way back from school, we cycled together for about an hour exchanging thier native toungue quecha with  our english. We arrived after some steep sections to their village where one kid was very excited to offer to fill up our water bottles. From this small village we waved goodbye to our little friends and battled up a very steep road to meet the main road from whcih we had taken the shortcut. By this point we must have been high, way above 4000m vast open high altitude plains stretched out around us and the road danced along a ridge for about 15 km before reaching an exhilerating and bone jarring decent back down into the town of Pampas at around 2500m. Upon arrival cold beer was all we could think about and after searching everyshop in town and not finding a single refrigerater we found some cold ones in a restaurant and sat in the park to enjoy them.

After a good rest the next morning we were on the road bright an early, the road lead us ever so gently back up to high altitute cutting into the side of the mountain, we were rarely passed by motor vehicles the climbing was very comfortable and the scenery breathtaking. unfortunately after 40km of steady climbing Seans Ham string injury got the better of him as we decided to try to hitch a ride Ayacucha which was the next city in order to take a few rest days. The first truck that passed us stopped and though he was completely filled with toilet paper and confectionary the driver, a friendly man nicknamed Saba boca (toad mouth) agreed to take us to "the top of the pass" from where we could supposedly roll down to the next town and catch a bus to Ayacucha. We somehow stuffed our bikes and Sean in the back of the truck a top of the piles of merchandise, It was another hour in the truck before they dropped us as far as they were going. Thinking we were just an hours rolling from the next town we had a leaisurly lunch up on the pass and slowly set of. After 2 more hours of climbing, the sight of the road sprawling endlessly up ahead of us and the arrival of the worrying altitude headache we stopped to munch down on some coca leaves and consider the fact that maybe toad mouth was a little bit wrong.

In a small ghost village now only inhabited by 2 families all of whom came out to stare at us we decided to give hicthing another bash. The sun was slowly setting and there didnt seem to be a vehicle in sight but eventually a truck came by and agreed to take us to the next village named Chonti. We were in the back of the truck for a good hour (how wrong toad face was) along with some concrete a few boxes of chickens and 2 piglets tied in a burlap sack screaming their heads off. We arrived just before sunset and one of the drivers very kindly offered us a room in his house. We were to share a bunk bed with his two kids who fired ridiculous questions at us all night and just before going to bed told us a story about the last gringo who passed through who was apparently battered with sticks and stones (i think the kid was just a bit weird)

Woke up and it seemed as if we would be rowing to the next town from the relentless rain all night. Outside the mountain tops were dusted with snow and it was freezing cold. we shared a ride to the town of Churcampa (the place that supposedly was just an hour from the pass the day before) which took a further hour and a half by car and was far from downhill. We passed landslides from the night before which would have been a nightmare to cross on a bike. After breakfast in Churcampi I stopped to fix a surprise overnight puncture in the town square and drew quite a crown of silent whispering onlookers. We were told there was no bus to Ayacucha so we would have to ride to Haunta which again was supposedly all down hill though this time we took this with a pinch of salt. after 10km of boneshattering downhill on very rough roads my stempost decided to snap in half and i almost went flying into a bush. My bike was rendered useless I could barely push it without becomming frustrated. We were yet again, after giving up on walking through the mud on the side of the road waiting for a truck to pass which didnt happen for a good hour. luckily the first vehicle that passed was a pick up truck and agreed to take us to ayacucha which was a great relief. The town we were told was just down the hill turned out to be 2 hours away and included some pretty decent climbs. We have definately learned not to pay a whole lot of atention to the directions of locals. I think that some people just tell you what you want to hear and not what you need to hear.

We have now had two days rest here in Ayacucha enjoying the comforts of the city. We are here now in Samana Santa (easter) so there is alot of energy in the streets and a great atmosphere plus lots of good cheap street food.

 Ahead of us between here and Cuzco we have a series of 5 major valleys and 5 passes above 4000m to content with. Today we have been researching about the terrorist activity in the valleys ahead of us which was setting to major conflict back in the 80s is still occupied by rebel militia nowadays it is a major area for growing and exporting cocaine.We were told at the tourism office that the route we are taking avoids the danger areas which settled us a little.