Cuba, Mexico and back to Calgary

It’s been a while. Mick volunteered to write a few words about our visit to Cuba but never finished his tale. Three months later I’m reinstated as the official secretary of the trip. So I put on my black mini and a pair of high heels, glue-on red nails as a finishing touch, aaaaaaand: action! Hasta la victoria siempre.
Cuba is a special place... to me anyway. Everything there is different from anything you might know. For somebody like myself, born and raised in communistic Poland, Cuba is like trip back in time, to more exotic version of a long gone reality of my childhood… what a ride!
When we bought our tickets to Cuba I knew nothing about this country. Everybody has heard about Cuban Revolution, but we all grew up with a distorted picture of what it really was about. We all know who Che Guevara was and who Fidel Castro is, but not so much what it was that they tried to achieve in Cuba. We understand more or less what communism stands for, but based on the glorious example of Soviet Union- great theory which never worked in practice.
But Cuba is not Soviet Union. It certainly is not what you hear in media, and the last 50 years proved beyond doubt that Cuban Revolution stands for something more than just unrealistic ideas.
Che Guevara, the ultimate revolutionary... high integrity and self-discipline, willingness to excel in everything he did, fought for social justice, education for all men to end the centuries-long exploitation of people by other people. Be the best you can be, never give up, lose the small mind, set an example for others… How crazy is that?
Cuban Revolution was started by a handful of men who were fed up with exploitation of Cuban people and land by foreign enterprises while country’s regime busied itself violating basic human freedoms. The revolution overthrew the regime and started transformation of the country. Nationalization of land and industries was not in the best interest of American corporations. That’s how the fight started.
It’s a real pity that something as mundane as economic embargo messed it all up. Cuba was never given a fair chance. I guess the world has never been fair hence the revolutions in the first place. But now we’ll never find out whether they could have pulled it out. Cubans you meet on the street are nice, cultured people, but they are tired. Constant shortage of everything and the 50 years of isolation from the outer world are taking their toll. They are holding on against the odds, but nobody likes the hardship.
Speaking of Cuban people, there is this curious phenomenon. To protect the national interest, Cuban government has lots of do’s and don’ts for tourists as well as special currency (Cuban Convertible Peso aca CUC) worth 25 times more than local peso. You commute only by designated buses paid in CUC, you stay only in designated places paid in CUC, some restaurants will have designated tourist menu (again in CUC) and another menu, for the locals. Being a tourist, it shits you that you always pay more, but you understand the objective so you comply. But as a result, all tourists are considered rich and source of easy money. Even more so, that all those who live of tourism are considerably better off than the others. It seems to me that, many Cubans develop this mental attitude as if they had right to some of your money because you have plenty of it to spare and you are on their turf; sort of like Robin Hood, but using tricks, not weapons.
So our encounters with strangers turned into a game, not unlike a reality show. We would engage and probe the ground, ditch the schemers and stick with the good guys. The objective: don’t get screwed and connect whenever you can. Improvisation at its best!
I loved their food, I loved their culture; I loved their coffee, cigars and mojitos… the old buildings in Havana and the green fields in the province… I loved it all.
We stayed in casas particulares; renting a room in private houses all over the island. We met a lot of really nice people this way. We hang out on the streets a lot, squeezing in the crowded public buses and eating street food in paladares, whenever we could. It is such a colourful culture. The awkward coco taxis and chevys from the 50’s were ubiquitous in the cities, especially Havana. From all the places we went to, I liked best Vinales with its red soil, funky looking magotes (rocky hills) and farms all over the green valley. We went there horseback riding, swimming and just roamed thru the land toying with an idea to come back there one day for climbing. Everybody was recommending us to go to Trinidad which is an old colonial town, pretty, but literally overrun by tourists. I didn’t enjoy it much there; maybe because our hosts were phoneys. I just couldn’t relax there. On the other hand, I had a really good time in Cienfuegos which itself is not much of an attraction. Sometimes a cigar on the waterfront in a nice sunny afternoon can make it up for the whole experience. Really, it is about how we feel, not where we are.
The infamous beaches of Varadero are fucking amazing. Blue sea, crystal clear waves, warm water, golden sand… you name it, they got it. But it is a strictly resort area, hotel guests only. We pulled it out under the radar, but altogether it was not my kind of scene. One more place we visited was Matanzas. Again, not much there but we wanted to catch the Hershey train- the last electric railroad on the island. It took us to Havana thru the beautiful country of green hills, palm trees and picturesque farmland. It was a great little ride, totally worth it.
We were in Cuba in December 2010 and spent there 3 weeks- not enough to see the whole island but enough to get an idea. I loved what I found there and hope that one day I will come back for more.
En route to Mexico, Aeromexico lost our only luggage; it was an epic with happy ending but not thanks to the airlines; we wasted a lot of time chasing our tails and I ended up going by bus from Veracruz to Mexico City where I found our bag, unlabeled and buried under a pile of alike suitcases and bags. At least I found it.
After we collected our super cool greatly missed van from the port of Veracruz, we spent 5 weeks cruising in Mexico. It was great to be back. We caught up for a week with Natalie and Morgan on the pacific coast of Oaxaca, and had bliss in Guanajuato (GTO), hanging out with Katie and other friends. GTO is one of those towns where people come to visit and stay for years; it’s just too good to give it a miss. Mexico is a timeless place and they say that Pacific Ocean has no memory.
End of January 2011 we crossed over to Texas and for the following 3 weeks were playing hide and seek with the passing cold weather fronts. We shopped for gear, slept on Walmart parking lots and bitched a lot about cold. Others than visiting our friends in Wyoming and meeting some nice people in New Texas, this part of trip was uneventful.
We are in Canada now, in Calgary- back where we started. We are staying with my godmother’s family on the western outskirts of the city, slowly wrapping up the trip.
We made it there and back, blew all our money but the reserves, had a few good laughs and now we are ready to stop. You could say, just couple of fortunate wankers that went for a ride… I say, life is good and god is great.
While I have you here, one more thing. Time and distance make everything fade away and 2 years and 80 thousand kilometers under the wheels it’s plenty of both… thanks for keeping in touch, so we could have you in our lives. It means a lot.

Patagonia

Bariloche is a gateway to Patagonia- thousands of kilometers of grass, rock and ice, and water, lots of water, in all forms and colours… wilderness at its best. Farm and wild animals walk side by side, undisturbed by nothing but few passing cars. The creeks and rivers are clear and you can drink straight from them. And glacier lakes have that milky blue colour and bright blue icebergs floating around; and some are huge, like Lago Buenos Aires near El Calafate or Lago Grey in Torres del Paine National Park. There are hanging glaciers in the mountains and amazing looking pinnacles like, Cerro Tore and Mt Fitz Roy near El Chalten in Los Glaciares National Park; or Cuernos (Horns) and Torres del Paine in the national park with the same name. Bluest lakes, amazing rock formations and the ubiquitous, untamed wildlife all add up to a hiking experience that you will never forget.
Imagine walking a trail through the grassy hills. There are guanacos everywhere; chasing each other and making funny noises because it is the beginning of their mating season. They are jumping the fences a lot as all the properties in Chile and Argentina are properly fenced because of the cattle. There are guanaco bones lying around in the grass; collection of many years. There are also half-eaten bodies hanging of the fences. Some got stuck when jumping across and puma found them. Nature plays hard, but nothing gets wasted- whatever’s left, the condors and foxes will take care of it. As you keep walking, you see yet another guanaco hanging off the fence, caught by a leg. But this one seems intact. When you get closer, it moves. At first, you are sort of scared because you don’t know if you can help it and it is damn hard to turn your back to suffering when it is thrown in your face like that. But this time you can. The wire is cutting through the leg, little above the hoof; it has a double twist and it’s pretty tight, but two people can just stretch it enough for the slender leg to slip out. The guanaco is on the verge of panic, but too exhausted to struggle or run. So you leave it alone and let it just lay there and rest. It seems relieved. And after half and hour or so, you see it get up and make a few steps. It’s limping but it can walk. You are watching it and something inside you is screaming with joy. Life in every breath.
The same day we see a flock of condors feeding on dead guanaco, Mick finds a condor feather (longer then my forearm and hand together) and we come across petroglyphs in some funky looking sediment rock full of river pebbles. It is a good day; one of many.
Patagonia is a great place, full of wonders with an indefinite potential for adventure. If you make it down there, you won’t be disappointed.
To touch base on our itinerary, Mick and I traveled down the west coast and back up the east coast. From Bariloche through El Bolson and Esquel to Perito Moreno at the Lago Argentino which I liked a lot- reminded me of an inland sea. We visited Cueva de las Manos (curious petroglyphs and hand imprints left by prehistoric men) in the Canadon de las Pinturas (great climbing potential but it’s on the UNESCO world heritage list so they let you only look and dream). Then it was hiking around El Calafate (Cerro de los Crystales) and El Chalten (trails around Cerro Torre and Mt Fitz-Roy). From there we crossed over to Chile to hike in Torres del Paine NP, then visited Puerto Natales and Punta Arenas and drove as far south on the American mainland as we could. 4km from the end of the road a creek crossed the road and we stopped there for the nite. We picked mussels at low tide and fried them in fire on the beach at the Magellan Strait- one of my best memories. Then we caught a ferry to Tierra del Fuego, visited Rio Grande and Ushuaia which was celebrating its 126 birthday and hang out a bit at Lago Fagnano. Then back to mainland, Rio Gallegos, Comodor Rivadavia, and a couple of days on the coast around Punto Dos Bahias where Magellan Penguins were waiting for their first eggs to hatch, and a colony of sea lions was basking in the spring sun on a nearby island. Then we went to Puerto Madryn and we just couldn’t leave- camping on the beach with whales passing only 15 meters away from the shore, playing with their babies, jumping and flopping their tales and flippers, puffing and singing... we didn’t have enough. There was also that albino whale. Seeing a white whale jumping gives you a bit of a kick. And there was this other beach, with elephant seals. We walked among them and watched… females feeding their babies, single males trying to score a female while the alpha male was chasing them away, harem of females basking in the sun. Watching a 300kg elephant seal mating with a 100kg female, I couldn’t help thinking, how easy we, people, have it. Never underestimate the power of simplicity.
Now we left Patagonia and pretty soon we gonna leave South America altogether. We are cruising along the Atlantic coast, ever closer to Buenos Aires. We are shipping our car to Veracruz in Mexico on 23 of November. Our plain is leaving on 29 November. We are heading to Cuba for 3 weeks before we can pick up our car again. Days are passing fast on getting everything ready. No grand finale, just another transition. Something ends and another thing starts.

Bariloche and the volcanoes

Yeah, Bariloche… had a really good time there. Weather panned out great- snow storm followed by a few days of sunshine and even the wind took some time off- the gods were smiling to us those days. On the first day of skiing in the Cerro Catedral resort, we bumped into some cool people, Lasse and Jan, and so the four of us hang out quite a bit together; our little private social scene. We did some backcountry skiing in Cerro Chall-Huaco and improvised a quick side trip to ski the volcanoes in Chile. And to top up the experience, Lasse lavished us with some best hot showers we have had in this trip, as much as we wanted, whenever we wanted, free of charge… act of sheer kindness. Tell me, how not to love Norwegians?!
Mick and I also did a trip to Refugio Frey, a cool little mountain hut near Bariloche. Snow wasn’t great but, again, we met there some nice people and had a great day out all together. We had a bit of an epic getting out of there in the hauling wind that woke us up on the last morning, but when we finally made it up that damn ridge, the windlessness on the other side was our reward.
We had a lot of fun in Bariloche, except for dealing with the local post office. We were waiting for some docs from Australia to arrive general delivery. The thing was that nobody could find them in the system under the tracking number and each time when we asked to have it checked under our last name, we would hear “No” delivered with straight face. They would say that if there is a tracking number, it always gets scanned and shows in the system; if it doesn’t show, it means that the docs are not in Argentina yet. We put up with this shit for a week, but, I mean, how hard it is to walk 5 meters to the backroom and look up if there is any mail for Michael Coffey. Then one day we came in and insisted that there is no tracking number, and so the guy finally moved his ass those 5 meters to the backroom and guess what? He found it! Hell knows how long it had been lying there because nobody bothered to stamp it, never mind scanning. I was more pissed off then relieved but at least we were free to move on.
Now, we stayed in Bariloche from 24 August till 15 September, including a five day side trip to Chile to climb volcanoes Lanin and Villarrica. Lasse went with us and Jan joined us just for Villarrica. So we had full car and tripped on shit all the time but it was great. On Lanin we slept in a little hut half way up the volcano and climbing was long and steep. We didn’t reach the summit but skiing in that spring-like snow was awesome and we left some big lines there, especially the telemark crew, Mick and Lasse. Villarrica is an active volcano- smoke, fumes, lava, the whole nine yards. We really wanted to see the lava. The day we climbed it was almost perfectly cloudless, until the peak started building up that cloud which looked like a cotton ball hat and gave about us much vision as when diving in milkshake. When we got to the top of the crater, the wind made me breathe through my feet because the mouth was busy suffocating; and we couldn’t see each other, never mind the lava. So we turned around, put on our skis and left. Still, skiing out of this cloud into perfectly still afternoon… that was something. This was what Alice must have felt like when she fell into a rabbit hole and popped out in Wonderland.

Chile… yeah, that was a bit of a love-hate affair, although for a reason as mundane as the weather. We crossed over from Argentina at the Cristo Redemptor pass which is not too far from Santiago. Not much snow in Portillo, but we had already got used to it, and hardly accessible backcountry- we gave it a pass.
Santiago as a capital ain’t too bad- old buildings, nice coffee shops, lots of gardens and good public transport system. And every US company you can think of is there- you can tell the foreign affairs of the country just by looking at the display windows of its shops. And in the supermarkets… I felt like wallowing on the floor from happiness when I saw that can of Dr Pepper soda on the shelf… Long live American imperialism! In Santiago we visited a mate of mine, Hugo, and abused man’s hospitality as it was due time for our annual shower and laundry. Good think about taking showers only occasionally is that you remember every single one of them and providing the water was hot, the last one is always the best one. But where were we… Ah, Hugo! Together with his family we went for a trip in our van to Valparaiso one day, which was a really cool trip- good company, good seafood, very pretty port town on the hills with colourful houses, narrow passages in between the buildings and old telefericos taking people up and down those steep harbour hills. Yeah, we both with Mick liked the place a lot. But our time around Santiago passed mainly in the mountains. We skied a couple of days in Valle Colorado and Valle Nevado, did an off-piste day in the couloirs of Farallones, I had some exciting stomach adventures which as humorous as they were are not that sort of things that you pride yourself with in the blog. But generally we froze our cute little butts off in those mountains. So when Chilean post fucked up our delivery from Australia we knew it was time to go. The road was calling.
Chillan was next on the list. We stayed there for a week as at first it was so windy that the house roofs were making low flybys all over the parking lot and later on it was so good that I didn’t wanna leave. Time-out we used wisely chasing up the god damn refill of our gas bottle- that was how I spent my birthday this year. Party on, Wayne! Party on, Gart! But when the good weather came in, it stayed in for over five days- 5 sunny, almost windless days in that magic backcountry with hidden natural hot springs, volcanoes and beautiful vallones (little valleys) all over the place. I loved it there. So we both got fired to skiing volcanoes and there were all those volcanoes that were coming up our way. I’m afraid it didn’t quite pan out for us that way.
First, Antuco- we missed the weather window by a day and then it was all about wind, fog and rain. After 4 days of waiting we gave up and drove further south. There was a weather window coming in 3 days and we really wanted to do Llaima, a volcano that erupted recently twice, 2008 and 2009.
We spent one day in Las Araucarias, an extremely friendly ski resort, walking around in the mist and rain. But the next day we scored high- a beautiful sunny day, not too much wind for most of it, just on the summit which we had to do in crampons for all that funky icy growth on the last 200 meters of the cone. The top was all steaming up, numerous craters, warm rocks, snow bridges, snow layers collapsing from heat, little crevasses- was beautiful and challenging at the same time. We didn’t ski off the top because of the ice but lower down the snow was great. You know those runs when you’re gliding over smooth gentle slopes, around you just the blue sky and white unspoilt snow, and it’s perfectly silent… I do, now.
From the slopes of Llaima we saw two perfect volcanic cones of Villarrica and Lanin. We rushed in their direction but the weather didn’t open again. We were lucky enough to see the top of Villarrica only once more; one night its top was glowing red from lava reflecting in the low clouds over the summit (fucking awesome view, if you ask me). But after that, the clouds closed in and dropped low… all the way down. And the forecast didn’t say any better for the next 5 days. So after lingering in Pucon for some days and a couple of visits to the hot springs in Los Pozones (cool spot to hang out even on gloomy days) we farewelled Chile to chase the good fortune in the famous Argentinean skiing capital of San Carlos de Bariloche. But that is a story for another day…

Argentina June/July 2010

It welcomed us freezing our water system, but Argentina was love from the first sight. Its friendly people with their thing for kissing for ‘hello’ and ‘goodbye’, also strangers… its beautiful roads with system of gas stations where you can buy great coffee and fresh medialunas, take a hot shower, use wifi and camp for free no worries… its mountain and vineyard landscapes with autumn colours on the flats and white winter high up there; its unbelievably tasty steaks which you can buy really cheap everywhere- out of the five weeks we spent in Argentina so far, we had non-steak dinner maybe 5 times. I wish I could add to this list awesome skiing but I can’t (yet). Winter in the southern hemisphere this year is shit. It came late, it hardly ever snows, or when it does, the next day wind blows it all away, where, I don’t know because we didn’t come across any hidden stashes yet. Maybe there is a secret valley in the Andes where all the snow goes to live happily ever after undisturbed by civilisation and its offspring. Or maybe it is just our beloved Mother Nature messing with us, you know, to keep us on our toes so we don’t forget who the boss is. Whatever the reasons, good snow this year is a struggle here and so July had gone and we found only one patch of snow in Las Lenas where we could play, and so we did, on and off for 2 weeks.
Hot springs! Did I mention the abundance of thermal waters that Argentina seems to have. We visited a few very groovy places but nr 1 on my list is Termas de Cacheuta just out of Mendoza- great range of temperatures covered by its many pools indoor and outdoor, sauna, picnic area and a cool location in the mountains.
We were in Argentina from 14 June till 18 July and our itinerary was following: crossed the border from Chile thru Paso de Sico, a few days in Salta (slow transition back to civilisation again), a couple of lazy days at Cabra Corral (lake), Los Banos in Rosario de la Frontera (first bathtub in 16 months), San Miguel de Tucuman, Catamarca, Termas de Santa Teresa (shithole in the middle of nowhere, open only to hotel guest), La Rioja, Patquia, Chepes, Caucete (gas station with great showers), San Juan, Mendoza (where the wine hatches), Lujan de Cuyo, Termas de Cacheuta (fuck yeah!), Los Penitentes (no snow), Las Lenas (beautiful skiing terrain) and Malargue (nice town), back to Mendoza area (hot springs, changing spark plugs, etc), Los Penitentes (still no snow) and over to Chile.
We gonna be back in Argentina soon and frankly, I can’t wait. Argentina feels like the forgotten world of my childhood, where people are friendly and have time for family and friends, where rules are few and flexible and so you can relax and enjoy just being there. Sure it ain’t perfect- it’s just a country made of just people. But it has this something that many countries by now have lost. The best I can describe it is a sense of freedom.

Bolivia- June 2010

During our 2 weeks in Bolivia we stayed mainly in its western part. We crossed the border in Copacabana where we camped at the Lake Titicaca next to the Isla del Sol. Mick made friends there with a little calf and they spent the whole arvo chasing each other. The nite at the lake was very dark, filled with stars, and so still that you could hear the silence. It really wasn’t a bad intro to a new country.
The next 4 days, including Corpus Christi, we spent in La Paz. I liked the capital city- dominated by spontaneous street life, seemed unlike other capitals I have seen. We found there good coffee, wireless and ATMs- a basic survival kit in any big city. As we ran out of gas in Peru, we needed to organise that before leaving La Paz, as there ain’t much out in the Peruvian countryside. This little task turned into a fucking mission which we payed for more than we ever bargained for.
Our way south to Salar de Uyuni (salt flats) consisted of shitloads of driving, mainly thru flat and open spaces with some cataclysmic looking towns in between, but we did find some cool spots too. The Urmiri hot springs was a little hotel-spa resort hidden in the hills in the middle of nowhere, with beautiful gardens, pools of hot water and a natural sauna. It was great. I sat in the water so long until I got sick. Then we drove out into the hills and camped there for the nite. And the nites in Bolivia are pitch-black with beautiful stars… which I certainly would have appreciated more if I only remembered to keep my contact lenses in after the dinner.
Now, the highlight of my Bolivian trip, and I think also Mick’s, was Salar de Uyuni. It is a salt flat which in rainy season turns into a shallow salt lake. It is huge, it is white like snow and navigating thru it is like navigating thru a sea- you take your course on islands, volcanoes or whatever you can see on the horizon; hopefully, not a mirage which is not unusual there. We hang out there for 3 days. The days were beautifully warm, and the nites, fucking freezing, but, again, the most amazing ever. The Milky Way was wider than elephant’s ass and shooting stars were like mosquitos. And when we played hacky sack, sky was the limit.
From Salar de Uyuni we drove south. There were hardly any road signs. There were no gas stations. All there was, was a maze of dirt roads and tracks going in all directions. But thanks to good people and not so good maps we eventually made our way out of the salt flats. Following instruction from a local, we discovered the underworld of Bolivian fuel supplies. When we arrived to San Juan, we asked for Don Cecilio. The infamous entrepreneur would professionally suck out some petrol from a barrel thru a hose and after 5 minutes we were ready to roll. It’s always pleasure to deal with people who know their shit.
Also, in the middle of nowhere, we bumped into some kiwis, Nevil and Sandra, cycling north from Chile and it was the nicest gringo fix ever. After talking to people in broken Spanish I definitely miss the language I can easily communicate in.
And so we arrived to Sud Lipez province which in vast majority consists of a natural reserve which Mick and I thought worth to check out, since it had a red lake, a green lake, hotsprings, geysers and fumaroles; and the supposed entry fee of AU$5 seemed reasonable for our dirtbag budget. Well, the price has recently been raised 5 times- just enough to annoy you at the very start. Unfortunately, the quality of our experience didn’t follow the price. The roads and road signs in the park were so good that we didn’t find the geysers and almost missed the hot spring. The lakes where like lakes, only one bright red and the other bright blue. Others than that, there were lots of rock and dirt. I realise I am bitching, but it was disappointing for majority of this park wasn’t any different from the areas we had driven thru for free. And when you are on a budget, $50 for nothing feels like a waste of money. Well, not complete waste though… that hot spring on the edge of the salt flat was actually really cool. The first day we had the place all to ourselves until after dark when a group of nude Spaniards and their guide joined us for a nite dip. The next day, it got really busy in the morning when guided groups arrived for the sunrise gig. Not being on the schedule, we jumped in the pool around noon to watch 2 vicunas come by really close; and the sun was hot and the salt flats shimmered in the light. It was great.
We left for Chile the same day, but it didn’t go smooth. As we found out on the border, it wasn’t exactly a border crossing; it was a tourist pass. The difference, you may ask? There is no customs on the tourist pass hence we couldn’t officially check out our car from the country. As we found out from our ‘kind’ migration officers, customs were 60km from the border and we were supposed to know it (from the legendary Bolivian road signs) and surrender our car permit over there. The only thing was, we couldn’t go back because we didn’t have enough fuel. So we had a little bit of a situation there. At first, the dudes on the border were not particularly helpful but eventually, generously offered to act out of their competence and hold on to our car permit with the intention of dropping it off for us at the customs. I don’t know if it ever happened and I don’t really care. Bolivia stayed behind me and it was good to be moving on.
We were not the only ones with the bumpy exit. On the border we picked up 2 English girls, two Clairs, dropped off by their guide that morning, waiting for an alleged bus to arrive. Surprisingly, before leaving he gave them some money back. As the bus was never to be there, they understood, why. It was maybe 100km to the closest town in Chile, with the traffic next to nothing. As we were driving along, the girls were saying that others than that, he was a really cool guide. I think they were just really cool girls.
We spent 2 days in Chile. San Pedro the Atacama is a cute, little touristy town, very pricy but it has its charm. We sorted out our stuff, paid the highest bill ever for fuel- AU$160, so we could continue our trip south… to Argentina.

Peru

As some of you know, when we were trying to find the border in the mountains we had a little bit of an incident when the car went off the road on a very steep angle and it took an excavator to pull it out and some minor repairs afterwards, which kind of delayed our crossing to Peru by a couple of days. But we did cross over eventually, and did so, on the most relaxed boarder crossing ever- we slept under the boarder bridge, some guys there don’t even wear uniforms to work, and the Peruvian custom officer wasn’t even sure what procedure there is for us to enter the country; he figured that if he speaks loud it sounds more competent- it was damn funny.

We drove for 3 days thru Andes, thru some good roads and fucking bad ones, thru valleys and over thousand meter drops, in the mists and sun and starry nites. It was a cool drive. And then we got to the coast and all this awesomeness was replaced by post-nuclear-war-like landscape of deserts and grey smoky air- ‘Mad Max 4- Resurrection’. Shortly afterwards, we started having problems with the car which made us spend in this lovely environment more time then necessary, but there was work to be done- Mick taking care of the car, me taking care of Mick. And we made our base of Trujillo.

After checking the spark plugs, dismounting fuel tank and disassembling the fuel pump, we were no closer to any answers. We even changed the transmission fluid. Everything looked fine (said Mick and I nodded). So we hit the road again and our car problems just as they mysteriously appeared, they seemed to disappear. Anyway, they had their effect on our stay in Peru and made us waste some very pricey fuel on driving there and back, not sure what was going on.

We visited Huaraz in Cordilliera Blanca. There is this amazing grassy plateau on 4000m or so, stretched between 2 mountain chains, one with snow caps and the other one without. The place is so beautiful. We drove it there and back, having some awesome stops in between, and once again, Peru proved to us, it is all about mountains.

Lima was a shit fight so after a failed attempt to drive into town we happily pissed off on Panamerican Highway to Nazca. The Nazca signs were shallow lines in desert plateau but I really liked the area there. We didn’t go for a flight assuming it was expensive like any touristy attraction in Peru and we drove into the hills, once again leaving the coast for the mountains. Between Nazca and Cuzco it is 660km and we drove through some coolest landscape ever; massive sand dune, our first pampa, canyons with cool looking rock and hidden mountain valleys. I would repeat it anytime on the bike.

And so we arrived to Cuzco- a very pleasant city with a cool, little old town and great tourist info services. We even made ourselves fake student ids to get a discount entrance to the ruins but they didn’t work- as pretty as they were, we made them to thin which raised the suspicions. Anyway, following the priceless map scored in the info centre, we checked out the sacred valley, we even did our laundry in the sacred river Urubamba. We checked out market in Pisac, Calca had some not-so-hot-springs, Urubamba saved us with its food and ATM and Ollantayamba welcomed us with a street fight and groovy looking ruins. This is were we left the sacred valley and climbed some 4000m high pass, to get to Machu Picchu from the backside- a must for budget travellers considering the price of the train and more so the walk on the sacred Inca path. We drove some deteriorating dirt roads and arrived to Santa Teresa were we left the car. Then we walked for 2 and a half hours to hydroelectric plant, which included river crossing in a fucking shopping trolley wobbling on a rope stretched across the river and doing so in 3 people (I couldn’t wipe the expression of disbelieve of my face even when it was all over). And then, already in the dark, we walked another 2 and a half hour along the railroad tracks. It was rather flat and straightforward walking but when we arrived to Aquas Calientes, we took the first room we saw, spent at least half an hour under the hot shower, so that you couldn’t see in the room, the air was so heavy of steam, and still, I fell asleep a few times over my food in the restaurant. I don’t remember last time I was so tired. There was no way, any of us could get up the next morning at 4am to walk up to Machu Picchu. So instead, we spent the next day hiking up this mountain on the other side of the valley. It had this one dodgy section, with rotten ladders missing parts and deteriorating unfixed after the last rainy season, so later on we found out that the trail was closed. Following the ever-present desire to be climbers that fuck, not fuckers that climbs, with some whinging on Peruvian safety standards we scaled that piece of wall and had the top of the mountain all to ourselves. And there, the most amazing view on Machu Picchu you can imagine. Now, I don’t even remember what this peak was called, but it definitely made my trip.

The next morning, we got up fucking early, took advantage of 24hour coffee shop in town and headed off up the hill to the gates of Machu Picchu. It must have been good coffee, ‘cause we arrived an hour too early; beaten only by two French who started their hike at 2:30 and a group of three Americans. The line behind us grew fast, though. Just before 6am the buses started to arrive. And then they let us in and everybody went roaming among the ruins on their own. It was a beautiful clear morning and Mick and I lost ourselves in those ruins for 3 hours or so, just walking, watching and enjoying. We smuggled in some food and threw a little picnic on a sunny terrace overlooking the sacred valley. Tuna and crackers never tasted so good.

We left the ruins quite early as we still had a hell of a walk out to be done that day. We took our bags from the hostel, ate something in town and dragged ourselves slowly towards Santa Teresa. Every hour or so we would stop, take our shoes off and put the feet in the cold river. I mean, we were tired. When we reached the river crossing there was a long line of people ahead of us, but down on the river the workers were just finishing the bridge. And so Mick became the godfather of the bridge on Urubamba in the Sacred Valley of Incas, being the first one to use it. Then we took a ride to Santa Teresa- enough is enough.

We came back to Cuzco, where we collected our car rego papers (thanks Jo) and bumped into a befriended French family whom we met in Guatemala and who also travel in a campervan. Then we drove south to Colca Canyon which is supposingly THE largest canyon in the world, twice bigger than Grand Canyon and so on. Well, to all those who have seen the Grand Canyon- don’t bother with Colca. Maybe it is bigger, but doesn’t have the intensity of Grand Canyon. It’s got condors though and they are fucking huge.

In Colca Canyon we realised that somebody tempered with the door lock in the car, so it was time to leave Peru. We drove along the lake Titicaca, which is very pretty, very big and has amazingly clear water. We parted with Peru on the boarder crossing of Copacabana. It was painless and rather happy farewell. We spent there 3 weeks.