Project VELAIA

The night was a good one, good sleep with the pleasing sound of the river a few meters away, with the fresh air of the Andes, and relatively warm temperatures. My feet also slept well

Then in the morning the distance to the village where we had planed to catch a bus further down to the south, to Puno on the Titicaca lake, was only a few kilometers, all downhill. The decision was not very easy because generally we don’t like to ride in the bus, but the timeframe we had to get to Chile got smaller and smaller: 50 days were left to go in Huaraz. We definitely had to cycle on the high plateau in Bolivia, on the salt lakes and the laguna route, so we had to sacrifice some parts of Peru, namely the area around Cusco and Machu Picchu. Not an easy decision!

So we went to the small village, looked for the bus terminal and asked for the options. All the buses left at 5 or 6 pm, so we had more than enough time left. We went to the city and started cooking. I don’t know whether it was the professional manner that attracted the people, the uncommon spaghetti dish or sauce or just the fact that two gringos on bicicletas were cooking in the center of the village. What I know is that I found myself in the middle of a 50 person crowd explainin everybody what we’re cooking, who we are, where we’ve come from and a thousand things more. The children were happy about this change in their daily routine and even parents watched these strange strangely dressed aliens.

Then we went on the internet where we had a bit of privacy and a bit of internet … probably a sattelite connection again, but the PCs were OK.

The transport to Lima where we had to change buses should get really hard. Not only because of the fast driving style of the driver and the extremely bad road, but also because I had to leave the bus everytime it stopped to pick someone up or let some farmers go. I did that because I was worried about the luggage … a lot of reports about luggage getting lost and I’d rather like to not lose it in a foreign country! Also the handling of the bikes was pretty rough and Elmar and I insisted on putting them onto the bus ourselves!

With almost no sleep we arrived in Lima in the early morning hours and had to find a bus company that would bring us to Puno on the Titicaca lake. We cycled with the sacks in which we had put the luggage around the area of the bus companies while strange people walked through the streets … nothing for the faint-hearted!

Then the morning came and we realized that the earliest we could get a bus to Puno would be in the afternoon! More waiting hours with nothing to do and now already more than 24 hours no sleep – we felt groggy! And we still had to take care for the bikes because of all the people around us. One time we went to a restaurant in the bus terminal of the flores bus company and just took our bikes with us up the stairs. One of the waitresses got really angry with us and even threatened to call the police if we wouldn’t leave! We were the only customers at that time!

Anyway, one hour before getting onto the bus, a man came runing towards us and said something that we had to take an earlier bus because there was not enough luggage space on the bus we had booked for the two bikes! Only problem: the earlier bus didn’t have the cama seats, the comfortable bed-like seats where you can rest properly! I tried everything to get our bikes on the cama bus, but no chance. Then I decided that it was more important to get to Puno and we made a compromise that we’d get two seats each in the normal bus – accepted!

This time the bus ride took about 21 hours! Almost no stop. I could sleep occasionally but it still felt strange: no bike riding, no possibilities to stop wherever you want, no communication with the locals. Just not the real thing for me. On the other hand the desert outside didn’t look too interesting, there were a lot more cars, often no security lanes and it was sooooooo hot.

We arrived in Arequipa, then continued to Puno where we got off the bus and into the nice altiplano weather with a lot of sunshine and blue sky!

To celebrate the new president of the United States of America here a inauguration day post for my readers.

This view is shot directly from our campsite above Lago Titicaca in the morning. The golden fields, the intense blue water and great mountains in the background. Am I still sleeping or is this real?

Morning at Lake Titicaca

Whenever you cross a border in South America you have to fill in the same forms and (sometimes) hope you’ll get a “90 days”-stamp into your passport. This border crossing on the southern side of the Titicaca Lake was particularly crowded and a lot of local people brought goods on their bikes over the river. The sign says “BIENVENIDOS A BOLIVIA – WELCOME TO BOLIVIA”. We really felt welcome now: Not a single time did anyone scream gringo after us, instead very interested people and friendly.

Bolivia, a country with only 9 million inhabitants but an area of more than 1 million square kilometers. 8 people per square kilometer. That’s 3 times bigger than Germany with roughly a tenth of the population! But massive poverty problems … I was curious. My father had read about bad things, Bolivians killing tourists for their credit cards and so on.

Beside the road a truck had crashed. Not an unusual thing here as the technique is antique, the security standards are non existent and I doubt that the drivers have a legal license or have had driving lessons at all.

Like in the countryside of the Andes in Peru there were really really poor people here. I guess if the statistics in books or the United Nations talk about poor people with less than US $2 a day, those are the people. They walk behind their oxen with the pigs searching for the last crumbs of seed in the fields right next to them. When they’re finished, they go home. Home often stands for a poor adobe hut, one room for a whole family, no tap water, no toilets, often no electricity. Don’t even think about A/C. The hygienic conditions: terrible.

At one of the huts in the picture below, where my father and I came really close to this dust and soil sucking tornado, I asked an old woman for the way. She responded in a different dialect … I thought first. I had already met some boys who pronounced the “s” like “sh”, but this time it got worse. I had heard about local languages, indigenous languages and guess it must have been either Quechua or Aymara.

There would have been a paved option to the trail in the picture above, but we thought we had found a nice shortcut. And we had! Better than riding on the solo paved road to La Paz we turned slightly south with target of Chara~na. This was the countryside. All the woolen clothes of the children below had probably been manufactured right here, local, sustainable production. Pure simplicity.

They were soooo cute and I asked them “Hola, como te llamas?“, what’s your name? A shy and quiet reply, too quiet for my ears, like a gentle breath.

Our information from copied on-line maps which we had reviewed during a midday stop in the town of Tiahuanacu, a very important archaeological place, were crap. The map we had in our hands was even worse. The arithmetic means arisen from the two versions didn’t help us much either.

Today mother sun took us by the hand and showed us the right path. In the evening we had come much closer to the planned route than we had thought back then. The campsite was superior: Not recognizable during daylight the city of La Paz flickered in yellow colors during the night like a lake of gold under a clear sky filled all over with tiny diamonds.

The chill on above 4000 m altitude chased me back into the tent quickly though … no chance for a picture let alone build up the tripod!

This emaciated friend of mine coming closer and closer chased by the heavy weighing hunger deep inside his belly hadn’t been a friend at all before. Together with another of its kind it ran towards my father and me furiously, making fun of the replies I sent in their direction in the form of 500 g heavy stones. What a soldier now! Dogs seem to work the same everywhere. Their pay being food.