They made it! As surreal as it seemed, after months of
anticipation Steve’s parents (from now on, M&A) were in Peru joining us on
our adventure and making sure we were behaving ourselves… ish. We found them at
Lima airport after their marathon flying journey and we all had great pleasure
in telling the taxi drivers to stuff off since we had our own vehicle. Even
going as far as waving the key to really hammer home our smug point.
The first night was spent in Lima, and there is not much to
say about the place other than the traffic was absolutely crazy and it felt
like every other car was trying to kill us. We left the next day heading south
along the coast to spend some time in Pisco, not much of a destination more
about convenience. Our apartment was in a “gated community” which simply meant
you had to drive past a sleeping dude in a hut to get onto the site which
itself looked like a bomb had dropped on it. We even found a Vanagon in keeping
with the “Style” of the gated community!
Excursion 1 – Paracas National Park. Where the desert meets
the ocean.
After some catch up sleep we headed across a barren wilderness
which eventually led us to a beach. A stark contrast of dry and wet where the
wind blew sand into every single tiny bloody place in the entire van. It was
clean, Steve’s Mum, we promise!
A few of the locals were kicking about.
And look at this bus! It’s so short, and yet apparently it
is ‘KING LONG. Did they miss a couple of ironic letters off the start of the badge
there?
As we travelled around the route advised on the park map we
found more nice views, red sand beaches and pointy ocean rocks. What you can’t
see is the dozens of tourists all around us, disgusting and gross. Get back on
the stumpy bus and leave us alone would you.
Not content with following the herd, we decided we should
give Steve’s parents a taste of real adventure. The beauty of having our own
driving machine is for super mega ultra-uber extreme crazy off the beaten track
experiences. So we drove through the big “don’t leave the main road” trench,
past the “area closed” signs and along to a distant cliff where the ocean
steadily eats away at the land. You can see the huge cracks where the desert is
being carved away just a terrifyingly small distance from where we parked
before noticing the impending doom…
But it was worth it, in one direction dry dusty lifeless
nothingness, and in the other deep blue ocean.
Excursion 2 – The 2019 Dakar Rally. In real bloody life!
There aren’t many times you set an alarm for 3:30am and look
forward to it going off, but to go and watch the actual, factual real life
Dakar Rally in person in the desert of Peru is one of those occasions. Well for
Steve and his Dad it was anyhow… For those who don’t know, this rally runs
through the deserts of South America (used to be Paris, Europe to Dakar, Africa
until unrest in Africa) for ten days of incredibly harsh racing conditions with
five classes of machine. Motorbikes, quadbikes, side by sides, cars and most
impressively of all, trucks.
The first motorbikes came through just as the sun was
rising, being chased by the TV helicopter. If you look closely at the photos you can see how close to the action Westy Rick was parked.
Eventually along came the cars. Cars being applied loosely
here, apart from the fact they have headlights and a windscreen there is
nothing car like about them at all. They’re lean, mean desert fighting racing machines.
And then, roaring across the desert… the trucks! Words
cannot describe how fast these were, seemingly supercar levels of acceleration
they tore past defying physics and bending the laws of space and time. The
torture they gave the tyres was very apparent and their proximity to us both
awe inspiring and unnerving.
Also along to spectate was a French overlanding “Big Rig”.
We’ve met a good number of people who live full time on the road in these luxurious
monster machines. Steve begins to wonder if it is possible to convert a Dakar
truck into the fastest house in the world… Better start collecting some parts.
Once all was said and done, the challenge of leaving the
desert began. Extremely helpfully, everyone had parked on the solid road and so
the only way out was through the soft sand. Whilst waiting for our turn to make
a run through it, the short sighted locals would nip round us into our “run up
space” then immediately get stuck in the sand. This continued for a long while
until eventually we got our chance to exercise our newly learnt rally skills
and only got stuck a little bit… yeeehhhaaaa
There’s something odd about this Mini…
Excursion 3 – From the desert to the mountains.
Three long days of driving took us from sea level to just
shy of 15,000ft. First stop, the Nazca Lines where an extremely rickety old
structure can be climbed to look at these 2000 year old drawings in the desert.
It was ok, just about as interesting as it sounds. Worth pulling over for, not
worth the two hour bus ride the normal tourists take.
Then from this:
To this:
Via:
Time for Steve’s Dad to have a turn at being a Good
Samaritan, about time. A lost and pained looking stranger skulked over and
explained that he’d stopped for a pee (his lack of English and our lack of
Spanish meant he had to act out the whole scenario…) and locked himself out of
his car. He wanted to try our VW keys in his Kia… it didn’t work, we left him
some biscuits and water as he waited for his family who were 4 hours away.
Steve made friends with a local, who then proceeded to add
to our wheel urine collection (the dog, not Steve).
Plenty of breaks were enjoyed, until finally we hit Cusco
where a luxurious AirBnB apartment awaited us. What a treat.
Being as selfish as we are, we couldn’t simply let M&A
come and visit without a price to pay. This took the form of acting as mules
for a number of spares to refresh our poor van. After sneaking them through the
“nothing to declare” corridor in Lima, it was finally time to start bolting
them on.
Here is a lesson on buying brake pads. We started with half
worn pads that made it almost 20,000km into the trip. We then put on cheap new
pads but Steve didn’t like the “brake feel” so expensive ones were added to the
parental contraband bag. When going to fit these, the ones that had been fitted
just 7000km prior were over half worn already, wearing twice as fast as the
originals. Perhaps the issue with the “brake feel” was the pads turning to dust
quicker than one of those joke golf balls.
The knackered upper wishbone was replaced, given the abuse
we’ve inflicted upon this poor van we consider ourselves to being doing very
well with just our one or two little issues. Knock on wood…
After some speedy cruising along the coast the engine seems
to have stopped misbehaving, our best guess is s large build-up of carbon from
heavy oil consumption during low speed up and down mountain driving was the
culprit. Kind of like cholesterol…
Wheel alignment was done in the most professional of
methods, utilising a highly accurate tape measure between the centre moulding
marks on the tyres. This was used to get close enough to drive to a wheel
alignment shop. However, after watching the methods used and having the steering
wheel end up 45 degrees off centre, Steve and his Dad re-did the tape measure
method and vowed never to trust a garage that has cartoon descriptions on the
wall again. We thought it was to inform the customer but perhaps it is to
remind the staff what they’re supposed to be doing.
We ventured into the town proper to see what it had to
offer. Turns out it is largely ladies aggressively trying to sell massages,
waiters aggressively trying to get you into their restaurant but the also highest
elevation Irish Pub in the world. Talk about absorbing culture, in we went.
Excursion 4 – Salinas de Maras, salty ponds.
High in the Andes there is a small salty stream coming out
the mountains. We know it’s salty because we tasted it. To harvest this white
powder a huge number of pools have been carved into the mountain side.
These are filled by diverting water flow through all number
of channels which are then left to evaporate until just the salt is left.
Magic!
The most pimpin’ Tuk-Tuk you will EVER see in your whole
life. #2kool4scool
Excursion 5 – Machu Picchu, because you can’t go to Peru and
not.
Despite the forecast of heavy thunderstorms all day we set
another unsociable alarm and drove to the station to catch a train to the world
famous MP, as it is known to its friends.
Two hours on the train followed by half an hour in a bus and
the clouds started to lift…
And then there we were! In the place where everyone takes a
photo like you’ve seen a hundred times before. The sun came out which was
perfect for the incessant Instagram photo takers. Honestly you wouldn’t believe
it, all these “hip” travellers facing this way, then facing that way, now
sitting in a meditation pose, now facing the first way again. “Ohhh look at me
I need a new profile picture, look how worldly and great I am”.
Why wouldn’t they just get out the way so we could take a
selfie. Jeessshhhh.
It’s a pretty crazy place, perched on top of a mountain
surrounded by agricultural terraces for growing stuff. Some are crazy steep,
tripping on these stairs would be the last mistake you made.
Despite our best efforts we couldn’t keep M&A in check.
The weird thing about Machu Picchu is that it isn’t actually
that old. It was built just before the Spanish came and “colonised” Peru 500
years ago and was only inhabited for 80 years. Fortunately the Spaniards didn’t
know about it so it wasn’t destroyed as many of the Inca civilisations were.
Which is great for those Instagrammers!
If Carlsberg did train journeys…
Excursion 6 – Lake Titicaca tehehehe.
Another long day of driving took us past the safest of all
the health and safety. A man on a tall ladder in the middle of a busy road
protected by two cones, hopes and prayers. We also went through an insane town
where tuk-tuks were driven like bumper cars and every section of the town sold
a different product. For example, here is a photo where every shop sells tiles.
Steve’s Mum made the best of friends with a local.
Lake Titicaca tehehehe is the highest altitude large lake,
or the largest high altitude lake, whichever. It is huge and high at 12,800ft
ish and a deep shade of blue. We stayed two nights in the town of Puno, where
we wandered around, got sunburnt, bought souvenirs, had some beer and lunch and
soaked up the atmosphere. Like normal tourists for once!
Whilst sat watching the police ladies blow whistles at the
taxis who kept parking where they shouldn’t, a young boy walking his grand or
maybe great grandmother to get a newspaper foolishly dropped his small balloon.
Once Steve finished laughing at his misfortune, and only to make his Mum feel
better about the job she did bringing him up, Steve picked up the balloon and
returned it to the tiny child with his tiny ancient relative. In the process,
according to the photographic evidence, had his bum photographed by a local. Who
can blame them.
Off the coast there lives a folk called the Uros people, who
use reeds to build islands on which they live. It seems to be extremely popular
for tourism in the busy season judging by the hundreds of parked up boats sitting
in the bay. Sick of behaving like normal tourists we instead took Westy Rick
out for a spin and parked up above the lake watching the floating reed folk
living out their peaceful lives below.
The sun set over the lake and Westy Rick once again proved
his worth and easily hosted four people. The beauty of having a small van is
that nobody had to get up to get to anything, everything was within one of our
eight arms reach, what a team.
Excursion 7 – Bolivia. Do you even know where that country
is?
As the border from Peru into Bolivia shuts for the usual
Latin American two hour god knows what they get up to lunch break, we killed
some time at a weird rock formation en-route in which a bazillion birds lived.
This bird seemed frustrated that despite having just been
fed, the baby was still crying out. Only Steve’s Mum seemed to understand.
In Bolivia it is either difficult or expensive for
foreigners to purchase fuel. Either you pay the foreigner rate which is almost
triple the local rate, haggle to somewhere in the middle or park round the
corner and bring a jerry can round and beg to be filled up on the cheap. So we
topped off in Peru, and it was Jenny’s turn to make friends with the locals.
The border crossing was the easiest, most pain free to date.
Everyone was helpful, there were no queues and the customs gent kindly gave us
a document stating we don’t need insurance if in Bolivia less than 30 days to
show any police down the road. No photocopies, no payments, just a simple and
pleasant crossing with smiles all around. What a treat!
A quick stop outside Copacabana for lunch by the lake and
Steve’s Dad finally made friends with the locals.
M&A treated us to a luxurious hotel above this busy
lakeside town filled with all things tourism. We think they were just making
sure we’d miss them when they were gone, which was only a day away.
=’(
Excursion 7, or was it 8? Oh who cares, the last leg.
Our journey from Lake Titicaca tehehehe to La Paz involved
crossing over part of the lake on possibly the most comical and terrifying
“ferry” ever conceived. We first saw what lay before us on our descent into the
town. It didn’t look so bad…
Upon closer inspection we began to laugh, but in that
slightly hysterical way like perhaps we are all about to die. The barges would
butt up against the shore and then vehicles would be cautiously driven aboard.
The captain (we guess that’s the term, maybe clown?) would
then push the barge away with a big stick and attempt to turn it around at the
same time as a dozen other boats were doing the same, like some sort of drunken
waltz. Then he would try and start the ancient outboard motor to propel us away
from the carnage.
We then began the long slow putter across the lake with the
van perched on sketchy planks held together by what appeared to be old coat
hangers.
No words needed.
Sweet, sweet land!!! We made it!
Sometimes simple life essentials require huge risks to
obtain. Our drinking water was low so we bravely ventured into a small town to
restock on this essential resource. What we didn’t know was that a violent war
was about to begin between us and the locals.
Firstly we filled the container and all was peaceful. But as
soon as the transfer from container to van began things took a terrible turn. A
loud bang behind Steve and a spray of sand across the road meant only one
thing, we were being attacked. Shadowy figures on the nearest balcony were the
attackers; two young boys armed with heavy water balloons terrorising us as we
attempted to survive. Steve’s Dad came in as reinforcements armed with a shield
(aka umbrella) to deflect the attack. Steve retaliated by filling a plastic cup
and launching a spray up in an attempt to force a retreat. It was violent, but
we all came away uninjured and only a little damp.
And then La Paz, a short drive across town before we arrived
at a hotel but more like hostel kind of place. The usual parking out of
service, we backed Westy Rick inside onto a lovely shiny floor where he had his
most luxurious stay of all time.
Yet another early alarm, but this time for the sad reason
that Steve’s lovely parents, Maggie and Andy (may as well use their full names
at least once…) had to reluctantly return to real life. Leaving us to start the
last third of our trip after the nicest and most pleasant two weeks thus far. A
little less like travelling, and a lot more like having a holiday which was an
extremely welcome break. Thank you for coming to visit guys, we miss you!
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