Boulders, telephone poles, burned tyres and groups of protesters greeted us on the road out of La Paz. Apparently it’s the only way the poorer class of Bolivia can demand equality and a ‘piece of the pie’ from the ruling elite. With no opition but to ride through and around the barricades (if we wanted to get to Lake Titicaca), we put on our friendliest smile and in broken spanish pleaded with the protesters to let the innocent gringo tourists through. Unwilling at first, they finally parted and let us pass, even giving hints on how best to navigate their obstacle course. They seemed like nice people, not the kind to look for a conflict and we felt sorry for them that they had to resort to these measures. We reached Lake Titicaca with the sun slowly setting and the temperature quickly dropping. At 4000m above sea level, comfy warm turns into an uncomfortable cold in a matter of minutes. We finally reached Copacabana (yes, it has a beach but in no way compares to the one in Brazil) after sunset and numb from the cold. Copacabana is a stopover for all the tourists heading to Isla de Sol (Isle of the Sun - an important Inca site). We passed on the boat ride out to the island and instead wandered the streets of Copacabana mingling with the locals from surrounding villages, selling their fruits and vegetables. Funny enough, although the market is only a couple of streets away from where most tourists catch their buses and stay the night, none of them made it that far and we could enjoy an authentic Bolivian market experience.

We then took a ride along the lake shore passing all the villages from which the vendors at the market had come from. We could see that they lead a very basic existence. The crop fields surrounding the houses are small and the vegetables they provide for sale at the market, barely enough to pay for the needs of the farmers. Still, the people seem content and generally very frinedly. They could teach us a thing or two about making do with only what you NEED and not what you WANT…

From Copacabana its just 9km to the Peruvian border at Kisani, where we got held up for an hour or so. The border formalities are simple enough, it’s just that we didn’t have the temporary import documents for the bikes. When we entered Bolivia there was no customs office at the actual border. It was 5km’s off the main route and at an altitude of 5,020m!! When we passed the turn off, it was late in the day and we were too cold and tired to make the detour for a silly document. No one had bothered to ask us about the temporary import permit throughout the whole of Bolivia until now. At first we claimed that the documents were stollen in La Paz, but that tactic fell through when the customs officer checked his computer for records of our entry. Who would have thought that a Bolivian customs office in the middle of the Andes and at an altitude of over 5,000m has a working computer?! Technology for you… Anyway, the bottom line according to the customs official was that we were free to go but the bikes had to stay in Bolivia because they had entered ilegally. If we were to continue with our bikes, a fine would have to be paid. “Here we go” we thought and proceeded to do our best impression of poor old (& dumb) motorcycle tourists travelling for a long time, on a very small budget. After about 40 minutes of this, the customs guy finally wilted and agreed to an ‘on the spot’ fine of only US$20 for all three bikes. All the time reiterating that he is only helping us out and not doing anything illegal. In the end he probably was and the US$20 was a small price to pay for our laziness. Once in Peru, we were in for a repeat of the protests we had encountered outside of La Paz. This time however the protesters seemed more determined not to let us pass, making a human chain across the road and threatening us with large rocks. We kept a cool head and approached each blockade with a huge smile, even our helmets couldn’t hide. Again the protesters let us through, but not without some nervy moments.

Upon entering Peru we decided, for a number of reasons including a limit on the days avialable, to get to the Pacific coast and the pan-american highway as soon as possible and then make a direct line for Lima (from which Iza’s father would fly back to Poland). We decided that we would leave Cuzco, Machu Picchu and the mountains of Peru for a later stage. The shortest way down from Lake Titicaca to the pan-amaerican highway is via Moquegua. This also took us through Desaguadero (on the border with Bolivia) and the last chance for cheaper fuel. Worth the stop even though it’s sold on the black market and comes out of jerry cans…

Until now the weather gods have been on our side. We didn’t have any rain for the five weeks that it took us to ride from Buenos Aires. Unfortunately, it seemed our luck would end on some of the highest roads to date. Just out of Desaguadero the dark clouds signalled a cold ride ahead. Assuming the terrain would gradually descend, we were in for a shock when 200km into our ride from Lake Titicaca (and only about 80km out from the coast, we were still at 4800m!! Each turn and mountain pass was psychological and physical torture, when we saw that more twisties and higher terrain awaited. Finally, about an hour after sunset, frozen to the bone, we began the steep descent into Moqegua. The blinding lights from oncoming traffic didn’t make the last kilomters any easier and but at least the air temperature began to rise and we began to defrost. We were so tired that the ride into Moquegua was a blur and we only remember waking up the next morning. Maybe our brains wanted to save us the pain of reliving the night before

In the morning we toured the markets in search of the famous Peruvian dish “ceviche”. Mainly eaten in the mornings, it consists of raw fish marinated in lime/lemon juice, served with onions, sweet potato and roasted corn kernels. We found plenty, each food stall preparing it in a different way. Now, Iza can’t get enough of it…

Another thing we were keen to try was “Cuy”. Also a Peruvian delicassy and something most westerners would find hard to digest. Cuy = Guinea Pig!! Unfortunately we could only find the live variety being sold at the markets and the search would turn into somewhat of a quest over the next week. In Moquegua we were told they are only sold for lunch, so we left it for lunch the following day. In the next town they told us its only served on the weekends. Then, that it’s only served in the mountians. We were beginning to think it’s some kind of myth, especially when we finally found a restaurant selling it only to be told that the lady that prepares the meal has gone on holidays to Lima! By this stage we had given up hope of eating Cuy, until just 30km before LIma we struck gold. Excited we rushed into the restaurant and ordered the biggest one they had. We also made sure the chef didn’t short change us and left on the head and paws. So how does cuy taste? The meat is similar to chicken, but the roated skin resembled pork. Overall, a thumbs up!

Before…

After…

Heading towards the coast we also expected some sunny weather and a chance to take a dip in the Pacific. We didn’t count on dry desert conditions, a constant overcast along the whole coast, cool temperatures and steep cliffs making getting to the beach difficult. There were some nice parts of the coastal route, but overall we thought it was boring. Even the town and famous lines of Nazca failed to wow us. One highlight (or lowlight) was Iza’s first flat tyre on the bros…

Finally we reached Lima - an oasis in the middle of the desert, artificailly ‘watered’ by water pumped out of the mountians. Apparently, despite the constant cloud and fog, it never rains in Lima… Overall we have to say we were positively surprised by the capital and the nightspots it had on offer. For us this was a rest stop after six weeks of constant riding. It was also Gienek’s (Iza’s father) last stop. We managed to sell his KLR to a local motorcycle enthusiast. The lack of paperwork doesn’t seem to hinder the sale of overseas bikes as they are in short supply.

We ended up staying in Lima for over a week, so it was lucky that we met Jacek who took us in for a few days. Jacek is a Polish-Canadian living in Lima for the last two years. He works as a music teacher and says Lima is one of the best places for teachers to earn a good living. Jacek owns a Honda XR250 ‘Tornado’ and is also into motorcycle touring. He has done numerous trips all around the world. Seems being a teacher has its perks (ie. 3 month holidays)

Having rested and ‘civilised’ ouselves a bit, it was time to hit the road and get back into the mountains. Jacek escorted us out of Lima as far as Chaclacayo and after some teary goodbyes it was just the two of us again. Our first stop on the way to Machu Picchu was Tarma. We heard there was some kind of festival. And so there was. Dancing and singing in traditional costumes was followed by ‘after parties’ in the local bars.

We stayed the night and the next day continued onto Huancayo, where the asphalt ended and fantastic dirt Andean mountain roads began. We spent one night camped on a village football pitch, as the steep cliffs didn’t allow for other camping options. It was a blessing in disguise because as a result we got a taste of Peruvian hospitality when some villagers came to offer blankets for the night (not believing that our tent would be warm enough). Then in the morning they came again to offer breakfast consisting of baked potatoes and home made cheese. They got a good laugh when we didn’t bother to peel the potatoes

The road continued to climb (averaging over 4,000m) which the Honda Bros didn’t like too much. It also became very narrow and a bit scary to ride on. It wouldn’t take much to find yourslef at the bottom of the ravine, as this truck pulled out of the river showed…

The route took us along the Mantaro river and past some stunning scenery.

One night we camped on a ridge amongst some cactuses, just past the town of Mayocc.. spectacular!

This is the view from our tent….

We are now in Ayacucho. Coming up Machu Picchu.

Note: We have added some pics to the gallery from Brazil, Chile & Argentina.