Canyons and climbs: into Peru
June 17th, 2013
Welcome to Peru
Epic. It’s an adjective often over-used, but it looks like we might be using it rather a lot in Peru. For once, the hyperbole seems appropriate.
Our first impressions are of a country in which everything is on a grander scale than we’ve experienced so far: deep river gorges rushing their way towards the Amazon, never-ending climbs that inch up into the Cordillera Central of the Andes, spiraling descents which plunge us back down into the heat of the valleys, and mountain hospitality on a scale we haven’t experienced since Colombia.
Here are some snapshots from our first few weeks in this vibrant country of contrasts, from the sweaty border crossing at La Balsa to the bustling city of Cajamarca in the northern highlands.
James
New backdrops: through the last of the mud and roadworks, and into the coffee plantations of San Ignacio.
A gentle introduction through the rice paddies…
…and a first crossing of the Río Marañon at Bellavista.
Scorched desert and big skies on the way to Bagua remind us of Baja California, Mexico…
…and a roadside cactus has me dreaming of sponge cake for days to come.
We ride into the gorge of the Río Utcubamba…
…where we stop in the shadows and stare…
…before emerging into the sunlight, speck-like against the towering canyon walls.
Just as we almost forget we are in the Andes, the climbs begin. Contrary to what this sign suggests, where Ecuador goes for direct and brutal, Peru goes for long and gradual…
…up out of Leymebamba into the wind and driving rain, leaving us shivering and seeking shelter and hot drinks at the top.
But as we crest the pass, it all becomes worthwhile – we gawp, awestruck, as the descent to the river opens up before us.
Down we go – from 3,700m at the top…
…past the crinkled slopes in the evening light…
…60km of exhilarating switchbacks which replace earlier tears with grins…
…until we emerge at the bridge, almost 3 vertical kilometres below where we started.
From here there is only one option. Up we grind again…
…an all day climb, following a spaghetti-like thread across the mountain…
…and along precipitous ledges. These, finally, are the Andean roads that I’ve been daydreaming about for years.
New friends: “Griiiiingo!” they shout…
…but stop to talk, and we find real warmth. Polín stops us halfway up a climb and plies us with beer all night to celebrate our 20,000km…
…before sending us on our way the next day with a breakfast of fish and yucca – and our worst hangover for many months.
In Bagua Grande, our request to the Police Chief to camp in his yard is turned down – instead he phones a friend…
…and we find ourselves with a police escort to a complimentary night at the local love motel – complete with heart-shaped bed and jacuzzi. We decline the room service menu (catering to all your needs, from roast guinea pig to the morning after pill), and fire up the petrol stove for some spaghetti – probably a first for this room.
I stop to admire a vintage bike with a prancing stallion…
…and Celestino invites us in. He notes down our names, ages and nationality, before showing us a lifetime’s collection of random belongings…
…another bike restoration in progress resting on a stand of two coffins, an impressive range of buckets…
…and outside, even more bikes in the queue. Before we leave, he explains that he is old, with no family, and perhaps he could leave the house and his belongings to us…humbled, we graciously decline.
Some friends pop up in the most unlikely of places and demand to play…
…while others provide simple respite for weary legs. In Palmira, 92 year old Misael offers us a seat to eat our lunch – carved from a palm which he himself had planted 25 years earlier, and which gave the town its name.
Glimpses into the past: a chance meeting sends us to the home of Línder in Chachapoyas. The flags are out in his barrio of Higos Urco…
…to celebrate the anniversary of a victorious Chachapoyan battle against the Spaniards in Peru’s fight for independence.
We arrive in time to take part in the morning ceremony…
…attended by the city’s great and good…
…but struggle a little at 7am with the celebratory cow’s hoof soup…
…despite being served up with great charm by the local matriarchs.
A day’s detour on foot sends us on a steep climb into the clouds…
…in search of the ancient hill-top fortress of Kuélap…
with the help of a new friend, who we christen John – until we discover that John is a she. Juana, perhaps.
The perfect spot from which to spy your enemy below…
…before they even get near the impenetrable walls.
Now reclaimed by nature…
…and colonized by a new army of invaders…
…a perfect playground just waiting to be explored.
In Leymebamba, perfectly preserved history of a different kind: an incredible collection of mummies discovered at nearby Laguna de los Condores.
A new country, maybe, but some things never change: the rest day challenge – squeezing ourselves and our bikes into ever-smaller hotel rooms for a frenzy of cooking, cleaning, repairing and communicating…
….the constant calorie hunt: a lunchtime snack of homemade guacamole and fried plantain to stock up the fat stores…
…and liquid refreshment in both natural forms…
…and slightly more artificial. The luminous drink line up has been expanded with a new kid on the block: the fluorescent yellow Inca Kola – so sweet you can feel your teeth loosening as you drink it. So far I’m resisting, but if these climbs continue…
