Part 19 - Bolivia!, Copacabana, La Paz, "Death Road", Sucre, Sep 17

Link to video:

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=q4enml9zL1A

Day 175 Puno, Peru

There hadn’t been any rain in the last few days so backing the bikes down the steep slope to the cobbled street was pretty easy. I still managed to drop Isa’s moto onto the red dirt. The road to the Bolivian border was quiet and of good quality. We made the border crossing in 30 minutes, a new record. Copacabana was just down the road and we had no trouble finding a nice room. We were in Bolivia!

The Bolivian border before Copacabana

Copacabana

We walked away the afternoon in the pretty town of Copacabana and couldn’t help noticing that the tourism infrastructure was massive but the place was deserted. Copacabana is a beach town on the Bolivian side of Lake Titicaca with a very pleasant microclimate. It is popular with Bolivians and foreigners as a launching point to visit Islas del Sol and de la Luna. We planned to do just that the next day.

Copacabana Bay

Barber shops are fascinating. Everyone knows the barber in a small place, they send up a greeting as they pass by in the street. Getting a haircut in a place like that is fun. We run into English speakers occasionally but only in big cities. It was sink or swim for twenty minutes in Spanish, during this haircut in Copacabana, and I managed to swim. Barbers are skilled conversationalists and this one helped me along as he would any child, with my childish Spanish. Still, I was pleased with this little accomplishment. I came away from his shop with shorter hair but a slightly larger head.

No waiting for a table in the deserted tourist town

We took the boat to Isla de La Luna. The lake was flat and calm, the ride was pleasant. We saw the Women’s Temple. We got back on the boat and moved over to Isla Del Sol. There we saw the Inca stairs and the Temple of the Sun. Far away and above a carpet of cloud, the view of Cordillera Real seemed unreal. Its peaks appeared to hover over the waters of Lake Titicaca as if suspended or weightless.

Weightless Cordillera Real

We didn’t really get the “magic” of the place and regret not taking one of the overnight trips. The islands had plenty of picturesque little inns. Slower and longer time combined with hikes around the large islands to see more of the ruins might have helped us absorb the atmosphere. We had trouble understanding the guide too. Most of the day had been spent in the boat on the massive lake.

Isla Del Sol

Reed boat near Isla Del Sol on Lake Titicaca

That evening, Copacabana was still deserted. There had been several weeks of protest and road blocks on the highway leading from La Paz to Copacabana. All the tourists had been scared away from the beach resort. We had monitored the situation via the internet. The protests were still on the same highway but had moved to the north shore of Lake Titicaca. They no longer blocked the road between Copacabana and La Paz. We crossed our fingers for the ride to La Paz tomorrow.

The countryside was delightful in the morning light. We rode over the eucalyptus covered hills, headed for the tip of the peninsula that jutted into Lake Titicaca, to the ferry. The ferry was exciting. Dozens of small wooded long-boats are run up onto the gravel beach. A wooden plank or two are what vehicles use to roll onto the ferry. The ferryman adjusts the loose wooden planks on the ferry deck, accomplishing a custom fit for each vehicle. Between the decking planks the wooden ribs can be seen below! Between the boat’s ribs sloshes the bilge water.

Loading a truck onto the rickety ferry

After mounting the rickety “ramp” I looked carefully to choose a route and a place to park that would avoid plunging a wheel into the bilge water. My first attempt at lowering the kickstand had it leaning into one of the gaps in the planks, headed for the sloshing blackness below. I repositioned the bike and took even more care choosing a spot when loading Isa’s bike onto the ferry. We fit a small truck and three motos on the tiny wooden vessel.

The Ferryman uses his pole

The weight of the truck at the bow tipped up the stern and allowed the ferryman to simply pole away from the beach after pulling in the loading planks. A tiny outboard engine slowly pushed us across the water. The wooden vessel creaked and groaned as its shape visibly twisted with each wave. We remained with the bikes to balance them.

Staying with the bikes

Once at the other side the boat was run onto the beach. We were required to turn the motos around to exit. Remember, it was uphill to our rear because of the truck’s weight at the bow and we do not have a reverse gear! A whole lot of pushing and shoving and straddling of gaping planks got the bikes turned around. I rode each bike down the bump onto the exit plank to finish the job.

Movable decking for a custom fit!

The road to La Paz began with extensive but easily navigated construction zones. We passed several sites where evidence from the roadblocks remained. There were charred bonfire piles, rocks and much garbage all pushed off the side of the road.

La Paz is a huge city and is as congested as Lima. The drivers are much less aggressive, even polite to a degree. We found our lodging and chatted quite a bit with our English-speaking host. Our first impression is that people seem happy here. Buildings are better built and more attention is paid to visual aesthetics.

La Paz

La Paz cityscape

Today we took a city tour on foot with two hip young guides. They were quite entertaining as they told about the 190 coups and 80 Presidents that have come and gone in the 191 years of independence Bolivia has enjoyed. They described the free market economy that operated on the other side of the prison wall they pointed to across the plaza. They also warned us not to accept an offer of a prison tour or of white powder from anyone on the street.

La Paz sits in a deep valley

The guides took us to the Witches’ Market and showed us various powders and potions, alongside the dried llama fetuses. They described Aymara traditions that required sacrifice for gain. Offerings of food, tobacco and alcohol are commonly left at construction sites of personal homes or businesses. Our guides hinted at the use of human sacrifices for very large construction sites. They offered as evidence that human remains were sometimes uncovered in the foundations of buildings that are torn down to make way for even larger ones. The tour ended with a shot of a local concoction in a bar. Who knows, maybe our guides warmed up a bit in the bar before letting loose all their stories?

Witches Market

We visited El Centro by ourselves today. We took the teleferico to the top of the valley and the suburb city of El Alto. We visited the famous Sunday market that is 50 blocks long, making our way to the building that housed a wrestling ring. We were first in line to see the “Wrestling Cholitas” Bus loads of tourists arrived to fill out the seats before the lights went down and the show began.

Taking the teleferico up to El Alto

View from El Alto

A romanticized Che made from auto parts

It was a fun evening of carefully practiced choreography interspersed with the drama of the battle between good and evil. The popcorn was fresh, the drinks were cold and the underdog always found the strength for a “come-back”. The crowd rewarded success in the ring with loud applause. No one was hurt in the display. All the smiling performers came out for bows at the end, even the corrupt referees.

"The Wrestling Cholitas"

“La Ruta Del Muerte” – The Road of Death

Calle Yungas Norte, also known as “The Road of Death” was a fun ride with breathtaking views. The real challenge was navigating the steep cobbled streets in Coroico in the rain while looking for a hotel that night.

 Lake at the high pass before descending toward Coroico

Descending eastward 

Following the river valley downward

We encountered groups of cyclists along the Death Road and had fun chatting with them when stopped for photos. The weather was perfect. We met a cyclist from Calgary and a nice young man from Montreal named Philippe. He had taken a day off riding his bike (from Canada) to ride a rented bike on Ruta Del Muerte with a group. He is alone and almost immediately mentioned the loneliness of solo travel. I think he was rather happy to be speaking with people from home.

Scenes from the "Death Road"

Riding La Ruta Del Muerte had been an event we had both looked forward to, for different reasons. My eagerness had been matched by Isa’s trepidation. That evening, we looked at each other and agreed that after more than two months riding in Peru, the death road had been an enjoyable ride with great views. Isa had experienced no more than a reasonable challenge on the 36k road of death and my challenge had been searching around town for a hotel on steep, wet cobbles.

More scenes from the "Death Road"

Caracollo, Cochabamba

The next day’s ride back up to the 4600m pass was foggy, the views obscured. We had made the right decision to ride the “Death Road” yesterday (down) instead of today (up). La Paz is huge and traffic is tough. There was no avoiding going through it today. Google Maps took us along a rather good route that skirted around the north end of the giant city. The route stayed high up in the barrios, away from the dreadful congestion below. The roads were twisty, busy and sometimes steep but at least they moved.

Riding high in Bolivia 

Mountain Scene

The highway toward Oruro provided 4 lanes of high speed travel. We looked at a couple of hotels in the rough little crossroads town of Caracollo. The standards were low and the hour was early. We decided to push on for Cochabamba. It was after the turn-off toward Cochabamba that things changed. Thick truck traffic produced choking clouds of fine dust. Things moved at a crawl and passing was rarely possible. When it was possible the dust clouds made sure you couldn’t see. Water trucks wetted long sections of the powder covered detours. The resulting mud caused our motos to skid and slither and to scare the wide-eyed riders who attempted to control them. Airing down the tires had little positive effect on traction. One false move and it was under the wheels of a truck you go!

The construction zone had been longer than 50k. We descended from a frigid 4700m and arrived in Cochabamba well after dark. The road had been desolate. It featured only the occasional hard-scrabble village with not a hotel in sight. We had not researched lodging in Cochabamba, having planned to stay in Caracollo. Trouble finding something affordable with safe parking meant we finally turned off our engines at 9:30 pm. We had ridden for about 14 hours. We fell into bed, exhausted.

Sucre

We decided to skip visiting Cochabamba and go straight to Sucre. The ride was beautiful, winding and long. Bertha’s smile greeted us at her home-stay/Spanish school in suburban Sucre. We parked the motos in the gated courtyard and settled into what would be our home for the next three weeks.

That evening, we got together with Frank Lindert and his girlfriend, Roxana at Goblins. We had met him in Cusco and kept in touch since. He has traveled much of the world during the 6 years he spent on his 1989 BMW R100GS. He is a gifted photographer who writes for motorcycle and travel magazines. Roxana owns a travel company. Part of her business is running a fleet of 4X4 Land Cruiser tours of the famous Salar de Uyuni (salt flats) and Parque Nacional Eduardo Avaroa, south of the salar. Walking home through the quiet streets of Sucre we tried to process all the great advice for routes and destinations south of Bolivia Frank and Roxana had given us.

Marisol our patient Spanish Maestra

On Saturday Bertha served a group almuerzo (lunch) for everyone at “Homestay Bertha”. For over an hour Isa and I practiced our Spanish. We are understanding more and more. Sharing the food with Bertha and her family were a Colombian overlanding couple, a French couple, our Spanish teacher (Marisol) and a young volunteer from Lichtenstein named Marina. The next day five adults and two kids packed into Bertha and Pepe’s (Bertha’s husband) car. We headed to an area with numerous restaurants for a traditional fish Sunday almuerzo (lunch). After lunch Bertha took us on a tour through the Sunday market. She named and explained the produce, both the familiar and the fascinating. The sky was red with a sandstorm.

Governing Chamber at "Casa de la Libertad"

We walked downtown that evening for a sandwich and coffee. The evening sky was still hazy with sand, the moon half hidden. Sucre, population 300,000, is quiet and very safe feeling. We are told that the crime rate is very low. It is a judicial and administrative centre. People are well dressed, polite and seem well educated. The overall standard of living seems visibly higher than what we have seen for many weeks. The brightly lit plazas and parks are filled with young families and adolescents playing and socializing. People seem calm and some cars are left out at night. There are even a few street level windows and doors, some made entirely of glass, conspicuously without bars on them.

Sucre the "White City", administrative and judicial centre

Spanish class was fun and passed quickly. Marisol is kind and patient. She is helping us expand our vocabulary and to understand and use more verb tenses. We shared a lovely dinner that Frank baked in the apartment he shares with Roxana that evening. Conversation was easy and enjoyable. After dinner we enjoyed Frank’s slide show from his 6 years of travel.

A few more days passed as we settled into a routine of Spanish classes in the morning and business in the afternoons. Internet research produced two six-month motorcycle insurance policies covering Argentina and all countries that are direct neighbors with it. Prior to this we have been restricted to buying coverage one country at a time, at each border. I dealt with an insurance company in Buenos Aires. The bank transfer actually went to Allianz in the US.

Courtyard at "Casa de la Libertad"

I also paid the entrance taxes for Argentina which must be done before presenting one’s self at the border. A visit to the business centre up the street allowed me to print all the documents and proofs of payments and make all the photocopies we would need at the Chilean and Argentine borders. Route research, after processing all the advice from Frank and Roxana also occupied much time.

Simon Bolivar surrounded by Indigenous leaders and other first Presidents

We will need to visit the migracion office in Sucre to renew our tourist cards. This can only be done within the last five days of the thirty days we were given at the border. Our passports were stamped with the routine 30 days, even though our motos were imported for 90 days. We are able to renew for 30 days two more times.

We had dinner at Frank and Roxana’s once more that week. Frank plans to ride with us on a remote rural route. Samaipata is the destination but along the way we will travel part of the “Ruta Del Che”. Che Guevara was executed in rural Bolivia in 1967. A hostel in the tiny village of La Higuera will provide a convenient mid-way stop for us on the way to Samaipata. 

Part 18 Last Days in Peru, Lima, Arequipa, Puno, early Sep 17

Part 18 Last Days in Peru

Day 165 To Barranca

We really enjoyed our time in Huaraz and neighboring Huascaran National Park with its unspoiled alpine beauty. The city has a relaxed feel, mixing traditional ways with modern times. There is much infrastructure for adventure tourism. Under everything lies a current of energy associated with the hikers and climbers who are attracted to the park that contains 40 peaks over 6,000 meters in height.

Isabelle’s cough/cold slowly improved. She felt ready to move on. We began a long, slow climb immediately after leaving Huaraz, which lies at 3,000 meters, heading upstream along the Santa valley. The pass across Cordillera Negro, at 4,200 m, marked the beginning of a long descent towards sea level and the Pan Am highway to Lima. The road was mostly good, with little traffic, even though this was the favored route to Lima.

Hot peppers growing in the irrigated desert beside the road to Caral.

We rode to the archeological site at the Sacred City of Caral, in the Supe valley, near the coastal city of Barranca. Caral is the most ancient city of the Americas. Twenty-five kilometers of the road leading to it were rough going after the Pan Am and the final 5 were over dirt, mud and sand. The ruins were fascinating and excavation work was clearly on-going.

We paid the entrance fee and hired our mandatory guide, named Luis, who turned out to be fantastic. Our initial reticence at hiring a non-English speaking guide evaporated almost immediately as Luis walked us through the site. He was knowledgeable and immediately recognized our limited Spanish. He adjusted the speed and complexity of his descriptions; in other words, he dumbed everything down!

Luis, our patient "Guia"

He explained how the city was inhabited between the 26^th and 20^th centuries BCE by the Chico Norte civilization. A quipu, a kind of abacus using knots tied in coloured threads, was found there, proving its use to be much older than was previously thought. The quipo was perfected by the Incas in the 15^th century. Later versions of it recorded historical facts along with numeric data, a kind of record keeping without “literacy”.

The seat of Government

The pyramids at Caral were used for religious purposes and contained meeting and ceremonial rooms. A new layer of stone was added to a pyramid by each successive ruler, thereby causing the pyramids to grow outward and upward from within. Bags were made from natural fibers and contained the rough bits of rock that were used as foundations for the stone structures. The flexibility afforded by the use of the bags offered a measure of earthquake resistance.

A ring of pyramids defines the city limits.

Social rank was determined by levels of knowledge. The priests’ residences were closest to the spread-out ring of temple pyramids. Middle classes lived within the encircled compound of the city, lower classes without. Two to three thousand people typically resided within the city.

Uncovering the ruins is a huge job.

There have been no traces of warfare found at Caral. The lack of battlements, weapons or mutilated human remains suggest a peaceful society based on commerce, pleasure and the concept of reciprocity. One temple contained 32 flutes made of condor and pelican bones and 37 cornets made of llama bones.

We stayed the night in Barranca at the same, “Motel Sahara” we had used seven weeks earlier on our way to Lima to meet our daughter Gabi. It was pleasant to catch up with our host, Adrianna, her grandson named Rodrigo, and to meet her American husband John. Friendly Rottweiler, Mustafa was still his goofy self.

Day 166 Lima, at Roberto’s again

It feels like we are home again after many weeks, the place looks just the same and all our camping gear is where we stored it. I went through it all and managed to trim 5 kg that went straight to the garbage. After settling in we went out to buy some groceries. People are happier here than in the coastal desert.

Day 167

Traffic, loud and aggressive – Lima style! I rode my moto for 2 ½ hours through Lima to Touratech Peru to get new tires mounted, then over to BMW Motorrad. I hoped to be able to drop off the bike for servicing the next day. A warm greeting from the service manager and coffee began the visit. He asked me how I planned to get home and I said by cab. I removed the soft baggage from the bike’s tank area to let the mechanic get at things more easily. After speaking with the service manager about also bringing Isa’s bike in tomorrow I was escorted to the waiting, loaded (with my tank bags) and paid-up cab to take me home.

My old tires after 20,000 km. I had planned for them to last only 10. The front has at least another 10 left in it but it's time for more aggressive tires for Bolivia.

Reconditioned and wearing new shoes

That evening we had dinner with a fellow moto-traveler, Phil Bernini, near Parque Kennedy in Miraflores. We had met Phil on board the Stahlratte during our crossing of the Darien Gap and had kept in touch. Phil injured his knee shortly after the cruise on the Stahlratte and reluctantly shipped his moto home to Switzerland. He had been stuck in the heat of northern Colombia, unable to ride, for months. He had come to Lima to buy a van to continue his voyage. It was great to catch up with him and hopefully our paths will cross again soon as he is also heading south toward Ushuaia.

 It's fun to meet other travelers, these guys are from Brazil

Father and daughter two up on a GS from Ecuador.

Day 168

Isa and I rode two up on her bike through Lima traffic for 2 hours to the BMW dealership. It was insane. In one of many crazy episodes we were almost taken out by a car that seemed to come out of nowhere from behind, to pass us on the right. My right-turn signal light had been flashing for a while and my brake lights were on too as I approached the right turn from the right lane, beside the parked cars. I heard a short bit of wet-road skidding from behind after I gently (because of slippery conditions) initiated the turn. Committed to the corner, I followed through. A long, “How dare you?!” beep from the offended motorist finished off the encounter.

We waited then walked across the street (another adventure!) for lunch while the mechanics were finishing up with the bikes. Just like at the dealership in Medellin, the price for two major tune-ups was very reasonable. We put a new, more aggressive front tire on Isabelle’s moto and both bikes were ready for the sand and mud we would surely encounter in Bolivia.

Isabelle's "Wilda" is ready to receive some TLC at the dealership.

We also had a smaller (by one tooth) front chain sprocket installed. This lowers the ratios of each of her 6 gears a little bit. The increase in torque should help her to accelerate past slow movers but it’s the lowered first gear that will be especially useful in off-road conditions. Her first gear had been far too tall with the old sprocket.

Motos refreshed, clean and loaded for the road outside Roberto's place in Lima

We got home, happily without incident and worked on packing the bikes for the rest of the day. We stayed an extra day in Lima. Isabelle was still sick and wanted to rest up a bit.

Day 169

We had a slow start to the day but in the afternoon walked 14k in search of a new camera.  We decided not to buy one since the prices were so high and our phone’s camera works pretty well. Once home, I tried the old camera and it miraculously came back to life!

Day 170 Lima to Ica

Motorbikes aren’t allowed on the highways that run through Lima, except the Pan Am highway. There was no good way to get to it and we cannot filter through traffic with our big side cases. We waited until 10:30 to allow traffic to thin out a little. Using Google maps on the phone, we improvised our way around construction sites and one-way streets the phone didn’t know about. We rode onto the Pan Am highway after an hour and it took another half hour to get out of the city. No one was hurt in the process.

The coastal highway cut into the cliffs in southern Peru

We rode down the coastal desert to Ica, sometimes correcting for strong cross-winds by leaning the bikes on crazy angles. It was cold. Our heated hand grips and electric jackets were switched on. We wore balaclavas. Sand the colour of snow swept and danced across the highway in waves. Drifts built up as the job of clearing them got ahead of the road machines. Our new tires worked well as we rode through the edges of the drifts we couldn’t avoid. The whole scene looked and felt a bit like moving down a highway at home in February, only a little warmer.

Day 171 Ica to Atico District

A big day of riding began with an early start. The road was in good shape for 400 k. We rode through a bit of a sandstorm that lasted for an hour. Again, we encountered strong winds and drifting sand. We literally kept our mouths shut inside our helmets. An open mouth, even to talk briefly, meant getting sand in your teeth. We stayed in a rough little town in an OK hotel with an ocean view for a good price. The staff were very pleasant.

Our ocean view, the hotel was spic and span clean inside. The chickens got us up in time for an early start.

Day 172 Arequipa

The next day began with crossing the site were the big derrumbe (landslide) had closed the Pan Am for 2 weeks, stranding many people. We had passed over the repaired site seven weeks earlier. It still had workers present and was not yet re-paved. Road work further on prevented us from turning inland toward Arequipa. The map showed us that a new highway continued down the coast and connected with another, giving access inland and eventually to Arequipa. Not knowing the condition of the road or even if it was paved we continued southward. It turned out to be a fantastic new road with a near perfect, paved surface. It passed through a rocky area without towns but with much mining, which explained its existence. There wasn’t a sand drift in sight as we rocketed down the coast to connect with the other road leading toward Arequipa.

Long stretches of untouched coastline

Occasionally there are signs of human activity

After settling in, we walked downtown to the beautiful plaza that is a UNESCO World heritage sight. A DJ was pounding out the tunes to the evening crowd of tourists. Coffee and dessert in pleasant evening air were followed by the long walk home. We enjoyed our night at Alejandro’s B&B, the same place as last time.

Day 173 Puno on Lake Titicaca, at 3800 m (12,300 ft) above sea level

Leaving Arequipa

Scenes from the altiplano averaging 4400 meters altitude:

 Well above the tree line

 You can see for great distances

 Water is scarce

 Flamingos are coloured pink by their diet

It's not cold enough to freeze what water there is. 

 Interesting rock structures jump up at the sky, even from this altitude.

Free rider

It has been another long and tiring, 300-kilometer day. Great scenery was everywhere again. We enjoyed it for the second time, having been here seven weeks before. We are in the same hostel as before, this will be the last repeat. We arrived in a four-degree rainstorm, the first rain we have seen in two and a half months. Trip planning brought us to the high Andes at the beginning of the dry season.

The funky little parking lot was still there. It had a steep climb from the street on a surface of fine, red dirt. The parking entrance now featured a small stream flowing down into the street. It would be a steep, red-mud climb this time. There was a little plateau about one storey up that was big enough for two large adventure bikes. Momentum rather than traction got the job done.  I accelerated hard across the single lane of street cobbles below before going through the gate and into the muddy climb. It worked but backing down the narrow, muddy lane in a few days would be challenging. I hoped for dry weather.

Day 174 Puno

Today we took a tour on Lake Titicaca that included visiting the Aymara speaking people at Uros and the Quechuan speakers on Taquile Island. Uros came first and was just a 30-minute cruise away. The Aymara speakers there live on floating reed islands. There are 92 islands, each with two to five, but sometimes more, families living on them. Nelson was our host on one of the islands. After welcoming us, he and his father piloted our group on two large reed boats. They poled expertly and brought us into the nearby reeds to show us how the reeds are cut, then used to build the islands and living structures.

 Nelson

 Freshly cut reed stalks

Covering a root foundation

It’s the roots that create floatation. They are cork-like and are very buoyant. Roots are collected and joined together to make the foundation of a new island. The reed stalks are cut and laid across the roots to create the floor of the island. Reed stalks are also woven to make solid structures. A modern touch is the addition of solar panels to collect electricity. This eliminates the previous and dangerous use of candles.

Old ways meet new ones:

 Solar panels provided by the government

Tour boat tied to reed island

The islands and reed structures:

We continued our cruise to Taquile Island were Quechuan speakers lived. The lake is a boundary between the two languages. The people on this large (solid) island are world famous for the hand weaving and knitted products. UNESCO recognized that by designating them as a cultural site. Their work is fine, precise and very beautiful.

 Traditional structure on Taquile Island

 Hill-top view

 Weaving and knitting alpaca wool

Agriculture on the island

Tomorrow we head further south, along the shores of Lake Titicaca, to cross into Bolivia. We have spent more than two months in Peru. In that time, and alongside the wonderful geography and adventure, we have come to understand the local value of money and fair prices for things, how to survive in urban traffic, the accents and some local idioms in Spanish, and a little about the people. Active archeological sites are ubiquitous and well visited. This shows us that Peruvians are inquisitive about their history, one that pre-dates the Egyptians.

Puno harbor

We have interacted with urban and with rural people, and passed through remote places. We have seen with our own eyes the magnitude of the gap between the privileged and the poor. We have seen and shared many smiles. We have come to see that projecting an expectation of need for material things is unfair. We have mostly seen good and honest people loving their families, participating in cultural and community practices, and finding ways to enjoy their lives. 

The Quechuan code of ethics has three parts: do not lie, do not steal, do not be lazy.