Chile now

We are in Chile now, and pretty pleased with ourselves about it too. This country is quite an appropriate place to end our travels - it's far more organised than anywhere else we have been in the last six months or so. This is a welcome change from one point of view, but of course it also takes some of the adventure out of our travels.

The last week we have covered about 4000km, and counting. We've been getting up early - a few times we have been on the bike before sunrise, and still going after sunset, covering several hundred kilometres per day. 850 is our record, though it's not about that - the simple fact is that Valparaiso, Chile, is a long way from Máncora, Perú. All this moving changes the atmosphere of our travels a bit - but that is the way it should be. For the last year, we have not had any appointments to speak of, and now we do. Call it readjustment training!

Despite the miles and trials, or possibly because of them, we have managed to enjoy this last week. For each of us this long, long leg down the west coast of South America has been challenging. At least I get to do one of my favourite things all day long, even if my hands are freezing in the mornings (this thanks to my own refusal to buy heavier gloves, owing to my sentimental attachment to the old ones!). Em reports that meditation is the answer on the back. We have a copy of 'The Man From Snowy River' in the map holder on the tank, and spend some of the day reciting this famous and moving Australian poem inside our helmets. When curves and trucks are few, of course.

The views have often been spectacular, though they change very slowly. The Panamerican Highway alternates between skimming along the Pacific coast at little more than wave level, to flying high at 1000-odd metres above that, and above the clouds. Often between the two we climb or swoop down through thick banks of sea mist, generated by the cold water of the Humboldt Current, just offshore. The whole stretch is a desert, stretching between the coast and the Andes. The region lacks rain both because of the cold water of the Humboldt, and because of the rainshadow caused by the Andes. It's dry here.

So I write this on the eve of our last travel day. What to say? It's been brilliant. If you are reading this, thanks. Hope you enjoyed the ride too.

Friends on the road

Nothing like a touch of home on the road ... this time in the form of two old mates from the centre. Amanda and Juls are on their own adventures (which, by all accounts, is quite a different trip to ours...) and we managed to catch them for a short but sweet moment in Lima.

Amanda first introduced me to Andrew all those years ago ('Em, you've gotta meet Longy - you two will either love each other or hate each other' heh).

Manda Moo and I cemented our friendship many years ago when we shared a tarpaulin home under a campground mango tree in Broome. Since then, we manage to catch up sporadically - usually sucking chai at Woodford. This time it was dunkin donuts in Lima instead :)

Much love to you two lovely ladies, and good luck out there!

Birthday on the road

The other day, a few hundred km north of Lima, we three lived a significant moment in our travels. The silent partner, the one that just handles everything we load on it and everything we point it at, turned...

many happy returns!

We stopped, celebrated, there was a little speech. A low-key do, then on with the job.

Equatorial editorial

The Humboldt Current is a flow of cold water which comes up from Antarctic regions, slowly rising to the ocean surface along the coast of Perú. Because it has the effect of cooling coastal waters - extending this effect also out to a thousand or so km offshore - the current also reduces evaporation from the Pacific Ocean, causing the aridity that is so notable in coastal, northern Perú. Interesting, hey?

So that is where we are up to, arid, warm, northern Perú. I had to make it sound interesting somehow! Truth is that we are pleased to be here. Emily is having a tropical beach holiday, amongst palm trees and out of reach of the Humboldt's sea mists, and I am on a mission to the Equator.

Yep, even as I while away the afternoon in an internet cafe, I am on the way further north. Had planned to get to Quito today, but the silly little men in uniforms stood in my way. I am currently waiting for the bike to get customs-cleared, something which is patently impossible on a Sunday, I am told. There's only one good thing about dealing with officious nincompoops - arguing the point with them! Hehe I always get a laugh out of it!

As far north as I wanted to get - until I found out the real equator is about 200m further north. So I went there and had fun balancing an egg on a nail, watching the Coriolis effect up close, and stuff like that.

Over to you, Em? How are things on the beach? xxxa

Well, despite my facebook boasts of my tropical beach holiday, it's not quite what I expected here ...

Firstly, a comment on the beaches on this side of the world. Apparently Brazil gives us a run for our money, and I've heard they're pretty good Columbia way, but in my opinion, Perú doesn't rate. I'm at Máncora, supposedly one of their finest. The sand is coarse, gritty, and, well ... grey. There are palm trees, sure, but they are all growing at sharp angles, evidently due to the wind that starts up about mid-morning and builds until sunset, making an afternooon trip to the beach an uncomfortably sandy experience. And the waves! The 5 or 6 surf schools are all vying for the beach's one break - which hasn't got much over knee height since I've been here.

Probably the most boring is that since Andy's left, I've become the target of too much latin attention. Which isn't romatic and suave like in the movies, but crude and aggresive, and in this case entirely unwanted.

But then, enough whinging, it's not all bad! I'm staying in a luxurious Indonesian-style bungalow with an amazingly comfy bed, a wonderful hammock, daily fresh sheets and fluffy towels, and - hitherto unheard of in Perù - an endles supply of hot water.

The town has a bit to offer too. There's a lovely vegetarian cafe and somwhere to buy a good coffee. And there's even a breezy internet cafe in which I can finish a couple of job applications I've been working on (yep - it's that time of the trip, probably a great contributor to my grumpiness). And I've managed to have some good conversations too.

However, spending Andy's birthday wihout him, well ... just isn't the real thing.

So now I've had my clothes washed, aired the camping gear, enjoyed the towels and coffee ... and nearly finished my applications, I'm just waiting for my (very Australian, very romantic and very suave) man to come back so I can give him a birthday hug and get back on the adventure!...

Day 4
Well the wind has died down and the sun has come out - and the whole place is filled with colour (even the beach is yellow). I got my job apps in yesterday, and spent the rest of the day soaking up the sun.

Then, only a day after his big one, Andy came back - stoked with his equatorial adventure and to be able to take off his boots off and enjoy the birthday beer and brownie I had waiting for him.

And we had a mini beach holiday together, lapping up the sun and the sea for all it was worth, before our last hike, 4000km south.

Cañon del pato, Santa, toward the North Pole

Duck Canyon is the way down to the coast from Caraz. Starting as a groovy, curvy early-morning ride, it soon became a challenging, hair-raising jaunt downhill, above and parallel to the deep canyon (no ducks in evidence), through dozens of rough-hewn tunnels on another rough dirt road.


Some of the tunnels had me holding my breath a little - it's an odd feeling riding into a pitch-dark hole that curves out of view ahead of you. I took my sunnies off for the second tunnel, but it was still a bit of a startler!


Spectacular trip, but by mid-morning we again had had enough of the sharp knocks, and I heard myself promising the old bike a nice, smooth trip along the Monash Freeway when it gets home! Boring I know but we all need a carrot sometimes!

Anyhow, this was to be a long day. We had left Caraz without breakfast, and somewhere along the line enjoyed unripe bananas, sweet biscuits and a lovely whine for morning tea. Pushing on, and now able to enjoy the luxury of asphalt, we lunched in Santa before heading north. The coast of Perú spends a lot of the year blanketed under a thick sea mist, caused by the Humboldt Current, and we were hoping to get out from under this cloud for a sunny little beach holiday.

Dune-filled deserts, long straights and the idiocy of Peruvian driving made the afternoon stretch on like the road before us, but with care and some long stints in the saddle we made it to charming little Huanchaco well before the sun set over the Pacific Ocean.

Laguna 69

We spent a couple of days in Huaraz, hanging out in cafes and using the internet to get ourselves sorted for returning to Australia. When we got moving, we headed for Huascarán, and the national park named for it in the Cordillera Blanca.



We set up camp deep in the valley, where the sun set early, leaving a heavy chill in the air. Next day we wandered, hung out, took the sun, and stuff like that. That's the way to stretch out a holiday!



For our second night up there, at around 3900m, we made sure of getting into tent and sleeping bags warm after an hour's brisk walk. No idea of the temperature, but there was a heavy frost on the tent both nights and the warm-up-before-bed made a big difference.

We were up about five, tucked into porridge and tea and set off for a hike. Suffice to say there was much puffing and panting too; we climbed from our campsite at 3900m to 5000m before coming down. A walk of about 16km; it's a while since we have had that kind of exercise!

(as I rounded this corner and saw the path was still going up, I wanted to lie down and sleep for a week. For the rest of the climb I counted 100 steps between each rest ... and still had trouble making it that far - e)

I think the photos will speak for themselves, vis-a-vis the views. The Lake - Laguna 69 - was absolutely spectacular, saphire blue, and nestled underneath the snowy Chacarraju summit.

Exhilarated but exhausted- so much so that we gave away the beers we had stashed in the river, preferring water and softdrink - we dragged our feet a bit as we struck camp and headed off the mountain to Caraz.

Rainforest - Huanuco - Huaraz

Out of the rainforest (in teeming, thrashing, pouring rain, through rising rivers and prodigious potholes), we took refuge and a tepid shower in a nameless little town. In an act of apparent sympathy, the owners gave us a half-dozen towels which we used well.

Our new mate in Lima, Rodrigo, had put us in contact with some mates of his in Huanuco, another little town in the Peruvian backblocks. Needing to change a tyre and a set of wheel bearings, we headed to their workshop. If not for the necessary mechanical work, we would most likely not have hung around long. As it was, we were there for two nights, and I spent a full day in the workshop. More than that, though - once again we were 'invited in' by Wendel, his daughter Vanne and the family, and ate two lunches and a dinner with them. One of few opportunities we have had to get to know Peruvians from close-up. They gave us each a Pillco Moto club hat and t-shirt, and Wendel even went to the trouble of letting the police know we were coming through when we left, so that they wouldn't hold us up (this worked well). Muchas gracias!


Some of the crappiest roads we have ever seen - and we have seen a few - greeted us as we went the back way from the rainforest to the mountains. Along with a couple of quite unfriendly towns, and endless calls of 'Gringo!' from the side of the road. Enough said, I don't really think we want to relive this part of the experience, and I am sure noone wants to read about them. Even these roads, though, have their moments.


Credit once again to the tough old BMW. And the tough young pillion! We were heading for a town called Huaraz, somewhat of a mecca for hikers, climbers and other adventure-seeking types given its proximity to 6000m peaks, and to the Huascarán national park. When confronted with a fork in the road, we opted for the more exciting path, a route which took us over yet another pass over 4000m - on a deserted dirt road.

For the mechanically-minded, we have been dealing with a worn-out lower shock absorber bush for a while now, with no chance of getting a new one, and on this trip there were some roadside repairs to do when we broke another lower shock mount bolt. After the previous couple of days, we were well relieved to get there, find a hot shower, a comfy cafe with great 'gringo' food and atmosphere.