Day 940
Hola Peru
Fellow tourers had advised us that this route was boring, there was nothing to see but a straight road and piles of rubbish. What they hadn’t mentioned was the mud, and there was nothing glorious about it! The thunderstorm that caused the landslides we encountered on our drive that morning had turned this area of Peru into a mud bath. It virtually never rains here apparently and so if it does then it’s chaos. The main road is asphalt but all side roads and the wide spaces between the road and the buildings are a sort of clay-sandy dirt! Today they were mud, deep mud. It also smelt, a mix of fish (well we were by the coast) with a hint of sewerage, not pleasant.
We rode on, and in the first town we hit, the road had turned into a river. It must have been 6” or more deep. I foolishly pedalled through the deepest part, trying to pass the slow moving traffic. I hit a hidden pothole and went for a swim! Not good, but at least we were heading for a hotel so I could clean up. It was nearly 6pm before we got to the small row of buildings where our hotel was. Naturally it was off the main road which meant ploughing through the mud, which soon coated us and the bikes. There was no hotel. We looked and looked. Take it from me, trying to get us and the bikes along that road was a nightmare. We wanted a shower so we looked hard, but nothing. We were by the sea so we checked out the beach which obviously meant sand now stuck to the mud. The beach was strewn with rubbish, and covered in a small spikey plant, not ideal. We decided to backtrack, hoping we might find the missing hotel or something better. I spotted a metal grill, with bottles of water on display, this meant a shop. After a few minutes calling a lady appeared, she confirmed the hotel was shut but said it was fine to camp on the beach. We thanked her, and as we headed out into the gloom she suddenly shouted out we could camp on the porch of her cabin, a bar, but closed as everywhere seemed to be. It overlooked the sea, and as night was falling, we couldn’t see the rubbish so all seemed as good as it could be. We started to put the inner tent up, just as I bent to pick up the poles, I heard Tom cry out then fall over. He had managed to stick a tent pole into a live socket and electrocuted himself. He was shaking from shock and his hands had small burns on the palms. This was turning out to be a very bad day.
Somehow, we survived the night without any more disasters. In the morning we both felt better if somewhat smelly. My cycle kit had dried overnight and I just prayed it didn’t smell too much and Tom’s burns had faded. The sun shone, the mud was drying out and we headed out for our first full day’s ride. Well, it was much better than we expected. The dreaded headwind was pretty weak, there were views, rainbow-coloured rocks, stunning hills of all shapes with cloud covered mountains in the distance. At about 10am we stopped at a bar to buy water, somehow we ended up there for an hour or so sharing a beer or four with the owner and his friend. This was more like it! That night we camped again, but at a campsite. We were able to not only get clean but also washed all our clothes which dried overnight, the breeze was picking up. There was still masses of mud everywhere but we were getting used to slip sliding along.
That strengthening wind was starting to get us down, we bumped into Stefan, from Germany, who was wondering why he had chosen to ride from Quito to Lima rather than the other way round! Food and water sources were few and far between. It was a case of head down and get on with it. We finally knew we had a proper hotel, so at least we could get clean. We had booked one on the outskirts of Piura. It has a reputation of being quite a dangerous place so we felt this was the safest option. It must be one of the most depressing towns I have ever seen, and we have seen a few. Both sides of the road were a vast wasteland. Massive holes were full of rubbish. Vultures were eating the piles that weren’t on fire. It was grim. We had booked a hotel with a garage. So, though the greeting was rather unfriendly, we got the bikes secured safe for the night and got a shower. Food in this part of Peru appears limited. Rice, beans, goat or similar for breakfast, lunch and dinner. But we needed to eat, so headed out. This is when we discovered we were locked in, our jailer, AKA the receptionist, let us out at her leisure. We found a restaurant-cum-shop and ate the usual semi-cold goat. The owner had said we needed only one portion between two, I managed some rice and beans and Tom ate the rest. We were starving. A few doors down we spotted another restaurant serving chicken and chips, why didn’t we spot that first?! We managed to explain we just wanted chips, a very big portion please. Oh boy, 5 minutes later we were presented with a massive plate of freshly cooked chips. Heaven! The night in the hotel takes the top spot of the worse of the trip so far. Those metal garage doors were constantly opened and slammed shut through the night, the receptionist’s flip flops slapped away on the stairs all night long, the reason being you could book rooms here by the hour and there was a constant stream of people arriving and leaving throughout the night. At 5am we gave up and left. Two more relentless days of riding into that headwind, the thought of a garage with a cold drink 40 miles ahead kept us going. Finally, after 125 miles in two days we pulled into a small city. Our hotel has friendly welcoming staff, they happily agreed to do our washing and as a gift brought us some food as the nearby restaurant was closed. We’ve visited two museums, both excellent, and its pizza for tea, no goat please!
