Lahuachaca to Oruro

With it having blown a gale and bucketed it down with rain last night, guess who once again woke up to find himself lying on a lilo in the middle of his own indoor swimming pool? 

What's even worse though I was still feeling crap with a stomach churning like nobody's business and so as a result I once again jumped on the truck, for the ride into town, Oruro to be precise and I've got to say it was a blessing in a way, cause whilst it was a flattish road, it had a whole stack of roadworks been done to it, making the ride apparently more than a little unpleasant. 

La Paz to Lahuachaca

Whilst I'd tried to ignore it for most of the day yesterday, the dreaded stomach bug reared it's ugly head several times during the night last night, leaving me somewhat exhausted and with a stomach that was constantly churning and not for want of more food. As a result the decision as to whether to ride or not was made for me.

It was with a slight sigh of relief that I didn't have to tackle the climb the road we'd descended into La Paz a couple of days earlier (it was sheer madness in terms of the conditions and the traffic alone, not to mention the gradient) but also a certain amount of disappointment at not being able to challenge myself in terms of seeing what sort of average speed I might be capable of riding at on the alto plana (flatlands) of Bolivia, whilst at altitude.

Lying in my tent as I am now, with the rain pouring down and the wind galling I've got to say, I'm glad I ended up in the truck (there were a number of people who had opted to do the same, for whatever reasons I'm not sure) cause the scenery was pretty nondescript, there were road works going on for miles (but in a totally disorganized manner, to my eye at least) and finally to top it off the weather had became a bit unpleasant as the afternoon hours ticked by. Heck, I was only able to put my tent up moments before the heavens opened and it started to pour.

No, all in all I'm glad I didn't ride today.

Oh and the stomach bug. I'm hoping like hell it passes during the night without incident, cause the idea of getting out of my tent with a shovel to do the necessaries, whilst it is raining doesn't seem to appealing.

Rest Day - La Paz (Death Road Ride)!

Whilst I've ridden up the Strava section, in Melbourne, Australia that's affectionately known as Deadman's Hill (or Middleborough Rd to most folk) I have to say it has nothing on the legendary status and scenery of today's ride. That's right despite it being a rest day, a number of us choose to get on a bike and ride.... "Death Road"!

Essentially, it is one of the few routes that connects the capital, La Paz to the Yungas region of northern Bolivia. ascending from around 4,650 metres (15,260 ft) at La Cumbre Pass, to 1,200 metres (3,900 ft) at the town of Coroico. It was apparently given it's infamous name by the Inter-American Development Bank when they found that some 200 to 300 people were dying on it every year. Why? Because it's largely a single-lane road without any guard rails and clifftop drops of up to 600 metres (2,000 feet) and during the rainy season, rain and fog can severely hamper visibility, and water runoff can turn the road into a muddy track.

Whilst it's been replaced in the last few years, given the death toll, by a motorway some distance away and it's fine on the back of a bike, it's not somewhere I would want to have traveled back in the day and certainly not in a bus or largish truck.

Huatajata to La Paz

Whilst the day started out fairly benignly, I found myself inadvertently riding with some of the fast boys in peleton formation out the front of the group, well for the first 20 odd kilometres, before my energy levels sapped, or they stepped up a gear and I consequently found myself riding alone to the lunch truck, not that I minded the solitude in any way shape or form.

Once I got to the lunch spot, I decided to wait for Julia and Carmen for what we had been warned was a very treacherous because of the extremely steep / fast descent into La Paz (which had resulted in riders being treated in hospital's in past Andes Trail rides). 

I am so glad I did, for not only was the road (highway) as dangerous as we had been told, but the ride through the outskirts of the town was an absolute nightmare as well because of the manner in which the traffic treats cyclists. A group it would seem is far safer than one cyclist on their own. Either way, though I made it safely into the Bolivian capital, a city I was keen to explore having spent far to long in Peruvian villages and so forth.

A view of La Paz from the outskirts, though admittedly, it really doesn't do the city justice in terms of exactly how steep the surrounding mountains are, the proximity with which neighbours live shoulder to shoulder with one another or what have you...... 

Copacabana to Huatajata

Cycling out of Copacabana today proved to be far more enjoyable and scenic than I could ever have imagined. I mean sure there was a 400 odd metre climb over some 12 or 13 KMs or so to be dealt with right from the outset, but it's hardly a long or steep gradient to deal with in comparison with some of the mountains we've had to climb.

Feeling good after having rested yesterday, I found myself riding at a tempo which not only felt good but also had me riding past some of the normally faster riders within the group.

I'm not sure whether they had all chose to take it easy today, spent an inordinate amount of time taking photos (something I regretfully didn't do) or I was just riding well but either way I found myself cresting the summit with the bulk of the group behind me rather than ahead as is usually the case. 

As a result when I got to the lunch truck there, were a few gasps of surprise that I should do so, faster than would normally be expected to be the case.

A quick bite of food was consumed, before I headed down hill and to the ferry port, which was to take Julia and myself across to the other side of Lake Titicaca, where we were to face a rather steep climb out of the town. 

Stupidly we both decided to make a bit of a race of the climb, something which is not so easy to do at altitude and whilst there wasn't much in it on the first and main hill, there remains a bit of conjecture as to who crossed the line first on the second hill (speed bump) and as a result it looks like this is going to be an ongoing competition (on paved road hill climbs at least) for awhile until the issue has been settled for once and for all.

Rest Day - Copacabana

I am sure that when I heard songs about "Copacabana" as a kid, that they weren't written about this place. I mean, sure it's a nice enough small Bolivian town on Lake Titicaca but it's not exactly somewhere to write home about, let alone, writing a song about.

We're spending the day here today, my tent having been erected in an attic space upstairs so as to dry out, rather than as overflow accommodation and as a consequence with that being the only chore that I needed to attend to, I set about exploring the "sights"!

Before the arrival of the Spanish conquistadors, Copacabana was an outpost of Inca occupation, along with many other sites in Bolivia. The Incas acknowledged its importance to the local community as an ancient shrine and a place of worship to the Oracle who ruled over the Islands of Titicaca, an element of which is still acknowledged / retained by the citizens of the town, with the town often being the scene of boisterous indigenous celebrations & dancing which the current day church has been unable to suppress entirely.

That said, a large 16th-century shrine the "Basilica of Our Lady of Copacabana" was built by the Spanish, with Moorish domes and adorned with ornate religious artifacts, in reverence to the Lady of Copacabana, the patron saint of Bolivia. 

Unfortunately whilst the Basilica of Our Lady of Copacabana isn't perhaps as ornate as it was historically, having been allegedly ravished to some extent during the Bolivian War of Independence which began in 1809 but didn't lead to the nation's independence till 1825 it was still well worth the visit nonetheless.

Having only the one day in town, not that I am sure I would have stayed too much longer, it did mean that I was unable to visit Isla del Sol or Isla de la Luna, the islands with sacred Incan archaeological sites in Lake Titicaca. I did nonetheless have an interesting day!

Puno, Peru to Copacabana, Bolivia

Well today didn't quite go as expected.

I'd started the day with the best of intentions of riding the full 140 odd kilometres to the Peru / Bolivia border and then (assuming that I got the all clear) the remaining ten kilometres to our hotel in Copacabana. Unfortunately, however Carmen wasn't feeling well (and probably should have jumped on the express truck right from the start) meaning Team Tourist made a slightly slower exit from Puno than we would liked to achieve. 

Then Jules came off, no major injuries, a sore arm, a few bruises & dented pride more than anything else but it did make it extremely difficult to carry on, so.... we decided being at the back of the pack and with two of the team, sick or injured to call the big red fire truck.

I was disappointed, for them as much as myself, but the idea of trying to catch up on my own was something that I really didn't want to contend with, particularly as we had a border crossing to deal with as well.

As we drove towards Yunguyo, the little village which straddles the Peru / Bolivian Border, we came across a festival in Chacachaca which had obviously been going for awhile given the copious quantities of beer that everyone had seemingly consumed. 

Note the number of beer crates in the background?!

Everyone seemed to be having (or had) a good time, though I was wondering whether or not, there'd be a big fry up in the morning....

In all seriousness though, It's amazing how much joy, music and laughter that emanates from the people of Peru. So many of the villages, particularly the smaller ones, through which we have cycled, have been celebrating festivals of one form or another and it amazes me just how many of the young kids play flutes, trumpets, drums or the like. 

At any rate, leaving the locals to their own devices, we then headed on to Yunguyo, we had a border to cross. Formalities completed, we then crossed into Bolivia (I was a bit disappointed to be walking rather than cycling the 100 or so metres) where we then filled in some more paperwork, bought ourselves a soft drink and waited for our colleagues who'd ridden.

Pucara to Puno

Guess who's expensive (and specifically purchased for this trip) tent, appears not to have a waterproof floor liner?

That's right, your's truly woke up this morning, at 5:30AM, to discover that he was floating on his sleep mat in a swimming pool. Well not quite, but essentially water had seeped through the floor wherever anything had been sitting on it. IE: My sleep mat, my day bag, my helmet, my handlebar bag and so on.

I mean sure it had bucketed down during the night, but I'd put a ground sheet down, made sure I was on flat ground and not in a hollow where water might collect and so on. I'm not sure where or why the water got in. All I know is that I've had to pack my wet tent away with the aim of hopefully drying it off in the next day or so, given that we've got a hotel tonight and tomorrow night whilst my sleeping bag is hopefully drying in my wardrobe as we speak!

If you've got any thoughts or suggestions on what may have caused it or on how I can avoid a repeat event please post a comment.

At any rate, once I'd dealt with all of my wet camping gear and so on this morning, I donned another layer or two of clothing given it was so dammed cold. and then got my bike ready for the 115KM that was to come. 

Whilst a number of us rode together for awhile this morning things did get broken up a bit when we came across the above site, with some people stopping others and others riding on...... Team Tourist of course stopped! Whether we should have or not, is debatable because whilst I'm going to assume it was built by the Incas, there wasn't any signage to indicate it's history, purpose or significance. 

So who knows..... 

At any rate, once I remounted the Troll, I decided to "put the foot down a little" thinking / hoping, that I'd become inoculated or at least somewhat immune to the affects of the altitude by now. Whilst I didn't set any land speed records, I did make up time on some of those who didn't stop at the "historical" site. Of course, I should also remind you, that being that we are currently sitting at around 3800 metres, which is some 1600 metres higher than the peak of Australia's tallest mountain, Mount Kosciuszko (2228 metres), that one's pace can drop quite suddenly for no known reason then magically reappear 10 to 15 minutes later....

Ultimately of course, I wasn't the first into town, but by the time that Carmen & Julia arrived at the hotel, I'd managed to grab a shower (cold) get changed and find out about doing a trip on Lake Titicaca to the floating reed islands.

No, this is not the boat that we took out to the islands, that was done on a rather more "commercially" orientated boat but rather it's an example of how some of the island folk, and there is seemingly a number who still live on the islands get about..... 

 I suspect someone, and I saw several cats, doesn't need tinned food.... 😊 😊

Raqchi Ruins to Pucara

With today's ride scheduled to be 160KM including a 40KM climb with a 5% gradient before lunch time at the 50 - 60KM mark, I decided along with several others, to join the lunch truck and climb to the peak of the mountain, at around 4388 metres, the easy way! 😊 😊 

I mean, sure rolling for the first 20KM without particularly having to touch the pedals is cheating in many books, but I'm a member of Team Tourist. Besides, I am the first to acknowledge, I'm no climber and I do want to make it all the way to the end after all, rather than ending up as a roadside memento. Some 29.5 KM into the ride, we decided to head into Santa Rosa for a coffee. 

I mean, it's hard work, sitting back and virtually rolling at 40 KM/H down a hill. 

All the locals, bar one really nice chap spoke a local dialect, rather than Spanish, of which I have picked up a little. Fortunately this chap spoke both the local language being that he was originally from the area and Spanish (fluently) given that he'd been studying and working in Lima for a few years.

Whilst Carmen, Julia and I enjoyed a wonderful coffee, we'd also made sure as to shout one for this chap along with buying a drink for his very inquisitive daughter we learnt that part of her "interest" is that she'd never seen anybody as pale / white as ourselves.... 

Here I was thinking that I'd been gradually improving my complexion, fitness levels and tan! 

It was too early to grab a bite so we headed on a further 35KM or so till we got to a little village called Ayaviri., with somebody (me) begining to feel a bit peckish. We found a cafe that was open, where the staff spoke sufficient Spanish for us to order Lomo Saltado which we have come to understand is a popular, traditional Peruvian meat dish. Essentially, a stir fry, with marinated strips of sirloin (or other beef steak) along with onions & tomatoes. It's frequently served with rice and / or french fries, so can be very filling and in this case was also very delicious! 

Rested, feed and with our water bidons refilled, we were then ready to tackle the remaining 30KM before we'd arrive in Pucara.

Cusco to Raqchi Ruins

Whilst I would have liked to have stayed another day or so in Cusco, I was also looking forward to getting back on the bike and today's route profile seemed to suggest that it would be an enjoyable day's ride.

As a result, when the starter's flag dropped, I headed down the road with a grin from ear to ear, which of course had made the task of buckling my helmet chin strap a little difficult but hey, what the heck! Navigating our way of town was a tad difficult because of the nature and behaviour of the traffic, but we all managed to escape unscathed.

Finding a little cafe (which is probably exaggerating the term "cafe" in many respects) some 50KM into the ride, we decided to stop for a bite to eat and to grab a coffee, being that all four of us (Carmen, Dave, Julia and myself) were all feeling somewhat peckish and close to hitting the wall from a performance perspective.

It was a very enjoyable affair I've got to say, despite the fact the menu, and I use that term lightly, was written in a local dialect and the owner/waitress didn't speak any Spanish. As a result we ordered to an extent on the basis of taking a bit of pot luck and by pointing to the food being served up to another table.

It ended up being a meat dish served up with potatoes, rice and a few other assorted vegetables. We were then given a drink of Chicha Morada and a small bowl of jelly made from the same corn based vegetable. All of that, plus the bottle of Fanta I'd ordered costing in the vicinity of $AUD 2.OO and I've got to to you, it pretty much filled me up!

Following our sumptuous lunch we rode on to the lunch truck, some further 15-20KM away, topped up our water bottles, let the crew know we were safe and well and then continued on our way, finally pulling into our campsite some 2-3 hours later.

Once tents were erected, we then sauntered into the village nearby to take a look at some Inca ruins. It was an interesting site and I suspect rarely visited by any one other than local Peruvian tourists, which is a bit disappointing in a way given its relatively close proximity to Cusco. I mean sure, it doesn't come close to making the same sort of impression as Machu Picchu, but it is well worth a visit nonetheless.