24/7/2013 near Conima, Peru to Puerto Acosta, Bolivia
D42, T8, Av10.76, Max51 Tot16787, 6720
Cloudy cool day
We awoke to a light frost, a good sleep had been achieved by both of us. We decided to get up and head of earlyish.
A bunch of road workers in the Hyundai van came past and they took photos with us.
It was a funny few moments.
The lake was calm, with gentle wavelets slapping the shore.
We were still telling ourselves how special it was to be camping on the shores of this uniquely famous body of water.
Once loaded and heading off. Again Deirdre derailed her chain.
On closer inspection it was found her small front cog had a slight bend in it. In the
past week she had derailed it a few times. We now knew the problem. My small shifter was used to lever the point that was out of alinement.
Problem solved, it had been annoying, especially the dirty hands following putting it back on the cog.
The day was cloudy so things never really warmed up too much.
Again riding along the eastern shore of Lake Titicaca, we were witness to Peruvian life along its edges.
Deirdre commented on how Mediterranean it all looked.
As the lake recedes in the dry season people till the rich soils and grow crops along the shore.
Most herders had a few sheep and always an Alpaca or Llama in the group, probably for their wool.
Almost all houses were constructed of adobe, many with thatched rooves.
The blueness of the lake and the beauty it cast across the landscape never ceased to amaze us. The contrast with the green reeds in the shallows and the brown hills surrounding the shores made for a truly captivating visual experience. All enhanced by the crystal clear atmosphere.
Many small towns not shown on my map were present between Conima and the border town Tilali.
Most located in a bay.
The shoreline wove its way through the landscape with bays and inlets indenting the land throughout the twenty odd km to Tilali.
We both rode at a leisurely pace, just absorbing all around us.
Arriving at Tilali, on entering the plaza, like all small Peruvian towns it was alive with people selling food, fresh vegies and other consumables around the central park area.
We enjoyed the best fried trout on the steps of the plaza, sitting next to the stall where we bought the food.
These small towns are great for buying our supplies, you don’t have to go hunting for a tienda, often one will sell all we need, a bit like a general store of days past.
The border to Bolivia was just beyond the town on a gravel road.
Since being in Peru, I and now Deirdre have become accustomed to some of their food products and other items we use regularly.
Some of these being:
Sublime chocolate bars, milk chocolate with nuts
Margaritas, sweet biscuits so good with coffee and tea
Mana, sweet puffed corn
Bencina, our clean burning stove fuel
Caldo de gallina, chicken and vegie soup
Caldo de Cordero, mutton soup
Manzana and Quinua drink, so nice in the morning, warm
Emolientes, all the goodies including fresh aloe
Panes, the small bread buns so nice with tuna and anything else
Powdered chocolate, no sweeteners, warms the cockles of your heart on a cool evening at camp.
Fresh fruit juices, blended on the spot, often with two top ups to your glass.
Avocados at 25c each,
Small everso sweet bananas
Ice creams in the cone with just the best flavours
And of course chicharrone, the deep fried pork/chicken pieces
I have been in Peru for over 3 months now. On leaving Ecuador, I had mixed emotions about the country, mainly received from people in Colombia and Ecuador.
Having spent this length of time here, those emotions are far from mixed.
The only emotions present are those of warmth and tranquility.
The people encountered in this country are so relaxed, friendly and most importantly appear happy and totally content with their lifestyles.
The richness of their culture which is ever present, I feel allows this ambience.
No matter where I was some aspect of their culture was present, whether in dress or an impromptu street parade. Many of these were related to Patria, (native lands).
The people never minded me stopping them during conversation to query a word or phrase of their language.
Importantly they all had a great sense of humour, these moments were always entertaining and imprinted words and phrases in my mind.
The street food in Peru, a large part of my diet and now Deirdres was always fresh and lovingly prepared by middle age to elderly woman. Eating at these places was always vibrant with conversation never lacking.
These encounters far out weighed the prospects of getting food poisoning.
These are the places where I met Peruanos at their most natural. Over food.
Never once did I feel unsafe here, even in the most back of back streets. Camping was a pleasure, the only time my senses switched to hyper mode at night was because of animals around the camp.
The scenery encountered will never be forgotten, the country, so influenced by the Andes and its proximity to the equator offers visual experiences in the extreme.
Mountains vegetated to their peaks, ravines and valleys deep beyond imagination, deserts and rocky terrain extreme in their dryness though always with beauty.
Rivers, huge, of all colours, sadly some unnatural, always present, accompanied by the roads that link the peoples of this country. The rivers’ line of least resistance through this grand landscape has allowed the Peruano road builders to take travellers into some of the most fascinating natural landscapes I have ever seen.
Along these roads, there were always people to greet, tiendas to buy sublimes and of course bored dogs.
Never once did you really feel alone.
Even in the most isolated of places the beauty of the surrounds took me in its arms and comforted me during times of cold or hardship.
Lastly, as mentioned before, a huge amount of admiration goes out to the brave and skilled people that have built the roads in Peru. The gradients were so forgiving, gravel nearly always negotiable from the bike seat.
In nearly all instances I would also say Peruano drivers have a respect for cyclists, a horn blast from behind alerted you to their presence. I had no moments where I felt endangered, though oncoming cars, passing were always a concern. Almost all truck and bus drivers would acknowledge a wave or would initiate their respect of your presence, with that of a horn blast, reduction in speed or a wide berth.
The rewards for climbing huge ranges, were always such a delight, those of views and in many cases 60 kilometres or more of downhill cruising.
Which always went far too fast.
I feel if you were to ever embark on a bike ride that takes you through all the emotions, pleasures and hardships. Peru is the place to come.
If you are one for the comforts of home whilst doing so, this kind of journey is not for you.
Also, if you are one for ticking boxes, your experience here will not be rich. The mountains and the roads that take you to their tops will become your burden .
Though if you are one for adventure, the unexpected, the natural environment
and interacting with the people, their culture and food, start planning.
I can assure you after doing so, you will be overcome with a sense of achievement and a warmth from all experienced on your journey, especially that from the Peruanos encountered along the way.
In saying this, allow at least 3 months.
Time, for me played the most important role in the richness of my experiences here in Peru. The word hurry was not in my vocab during my travels in Peru.
If you visit here on a bike with an unrealistic time frame or a lack of it. I feel your experience here will also become limited.
If you “have to” be somewhere on too many occasions, the romance and richness of your time here will be robbed from you.
A box you may have ticked, though unaccompanied with many possible experiences .
On arrival at the Peruvian border check point 2km from Tilali, they asked us why we didn’t complete formalities at Puno, we had expected this .
They were told of our plans to ride this east side of the lake then return to Peru.
The guys were great, they just noted our passport numbers and names and let us proceed. What the Bolivianos may do was not their concern.
Fifty metres on we were checked by the local police, it was all good.
The from here the road became all bad, that of large loose rocks, with an unrideable gradient. We were both reduced to walking our bikes some of the time.
For about 3km these conditions continued, though most of the time we had great views of the lake. At the top of the hill, we had reached the geographical border of Peru and Bolivia. There was a large gathering of people up here. The site offered sweeping views back over Titicaca.
The people, many dressed in traditional clothing were gathered for a funeral.
Respectfully we kept our little border crossing celebrations to a minimum with a few photos at the trig and a quite chat with some of those gathered.
It’s an odd thing, you cross to a different country and it always kind of feels different.
Here the houses scattered across the slopes above the lake were very basic, all one shape and most obvious was the lack of people about. All boundaries were marked by stone fences.
Vehicles were almost non existent.
We had to walk the bikes at times. The loose rocks on the “track” were impossible to ride between. I fell off a couple of times, so did Deirdre.
I am amazed and so respectful of her ability to endure some of the conditions we have encountered.
Having a companion on a journey like this, male or female, who was complaining about this and that would not be a proposition as far as I am concerned.
We have now got ourselves in a social pattern that fits our persuit. Only just this morning we both said it was just great to be with each other and not always talking. Just our company was sufficient.
So as usual I let her ride ahead.
The road was now descending to Puerto Acosta where the Bolivian os had their border post.
This road was fast becoming dangerous with loose sharp rocks everywhere. We were on the brakes, hard all the way down. One fall out of control could spell disaster.
I put my helmet on for the first time in months. I had said just, only the other day how much of a waste of time it was carrying it.
Again I fell off at low speed. It was also getting late in the day and cool with it.
Finally after crossing a creek we arrived at Puerto Acosta.
Bolivia sure is different, the town square had nothing resembling the vibrancy of Peruvian towns of the same size. Few people were present.
We changed some Soles for Bolivianos, getting 2.4 for 1 sole, much haggling and por favoring from me could get her to 2.5, mas o menos she kept saying.
We then headed for the border post out of town a bit and over a bridge.
The guys there, were very thorough. They asked us why we didn’t have exit stamps for Peru. This is when the little Spanish I knew had to be used.
I told them we were going to Copacabana to do some touristy things then cross the border to Kasani to do immigration formalities in Peru.
They also noticed I had overstayed my time in Peru.
After some time and a spiel about the dog bite they said we could go .
We were lucky to be allowed to travel the next 200km in Bolivia with no entry being formalised.
No doubt they will check to see if we entered the country formally in a few days time at Copacabana.
Leaving here we headed back to town.
Looking for a hospedaje, people did not know what we were on about.
They are called Alojamientos here.
We found the 5 De Noviembre, at 40 B for the night. About $3.80 each.
People here were not quite as friendly as those in the towns in Peru only just half an hour away by car.
One must remember that Bolivia is one, if not the poorest country in South America.
No doubt as more time is spent here, our interactions and experiences with them will be just as enjoyable and rich as those with the Peruanos, Ecuadrianos and Colombianos.
We are looking forward to all Bolivia has to show us.
The accommodation was basic, no shower, but, hey, it was shelter, we were warm and safe, all was good.
Settling in and heading out for a meal we wandered about looking for a restaurant all the while walking on the cobbled streets here in town.
The only restaurant or comedor open was full everyone sitting at one table in the tiny room.
We ordered beef and rice.
The meat was stacked in a heap against the wall, the lady grabbed a few chucks and dropped them in pan of boiling oil.
The cool climate allowed for this kind of meat storage???
Deep fried beef chops, yet another new culinary experience.
Who cared, the place was warm and social. The food was enjoyed, the chops eaten with our hands.
We wandered back to the lodgings, laughing about the day and how different Bolivia was.
Deirdre giving me a hard time about my foot slap which was noticeable on the cobblestones. This humorous exchange lessened the effects of the cold evening.
It was bitterly cold here in town. Bed was welcome.
D42, T8, Av10.76, Max51 Tot16787, 6720
Cloudy cool day
We awoke to a light frost, a good sleep had been achieved by both of us. We decided to get up and head of earlyish.
A bunch of road workers in the Hyundai van came past and they took photos with us.
It was a funny few moments.
The lake was calm, with gentle wavelets slapping the shore.
We were still telling ourselves how special it was to be camping on the shores of this uniquely famous body of water.
Once loaded and heading off. Again Deirdre derailed her chain.
On closer inspection it was found her small front cog had a slight bend in it. In the
past week she had derailed it a few times. We now knew the problem. My small shifter was used to lever the point that was out of alinement.
Problem solved, it had been annoying, especially the dirty hands following putting it back on the cog.
The day was cloudy so things never really warmed up too much.
Again riding along the eastern shore of Lake Titicaca, we were witness to Peruvian life along its edges.
Deirdre commented on how Mediterranean it all looked.
As the lake recedes in the dry season people till the rich soils and grow crops along the shore.
Most herders had a few sheep and always an Alpaca or Llama in the group, probably for their wool.
Almost all houses were constructed of adobe, many with thatched rooves.
The blueness of the lake and the beauty it cast across the landscape never ceased to amaze us. The contrast with the green reeds in the shallows and the brown hills surrounding the shores made for a truly captivating visual experience. All enhanced by the crystal clear atmosphere.
Many small towns not shown on my map were present between Conima and the border town Tilali.
Most located in a bay.
The shoreline wove its way through the landscape with bays and inlets indenting the land throughout the twenty odd km to Tilali.
We both rode at a leisurely pace, just absorbing all around us.
Arriving at Tilali, on entering the plaza, like all small Peruvian towns it was alive with people selling food, fresh vegies and other consumables around the central park area.
We enjoyed the best fried trout on the steps of the plaza, sitting next to the stall where we bought the food.
These small towns are great for buying our supplies, you don’t have to go hunting for a tienda, often one will sell all we need, a bit like a general store of days past.
The border to Bolivia was just beyond the town on a gravel road.
Since being in Peru, I and now Deirdre have become accustomed to some of their food products and other items we use regularly.
Some of these being:
Sublime chocolate bars, milk chocolate with nuts
Margaritas, sweet biscuits so good with coffee and tea
Mana, sweet puffed corn
Bencina, our clean burning stove fuel
Caldo de gallina, chicken and vegie soup
Caldo de Cordero, mutton soup
Manzana and Quinua drink, so nice in the morning, warm
Emolientes, all the goodies including fresh aloe
Panes, the small bread buns so nice with tuna and anything else
Powdered chocolate, no sweeteners, warms the cockles of your heart on a cool evening at camp.
Fresh fruit juices, blended on the spot, often with two top ups to your glass.
Avocados at 25c each,
Small everso sweet bananas
Ice creams in the cone with just the best flavours
And of course chicharrone, the deep fried pork/chicken pieces
I have been in Peru for over 3 months now. On leaving Ecuador, I had mixed emotions about the country, mainly received from people in Colombia and Ecuador.
Having spent this length of time here, those emotions are far from mixed.
The only emotions present are those of warmth and tranquility.
The people encountered in this country are so relaxed, friendly and most importantly appear happy and totally content with their lifestyles.
The richness of their culture which is ever present, I feel allows this ambience.
No matter where I was some aspect of their culture was present, whether in dress or an impromptu street parade. Many of these were related to Patria, (native lands).
The people never minded me stopping them during conversation to query a word or phrase of their language.
Importantly they all had a great sense of humour, these moments were always entertaining and imprinted words and phrases in my mind.
The street food in Peru, a large part of my diet and now Deirdres was always fresh and lovingly prepared by middle age to elderly woman. Eating at these places was always vibrant with conversation never lacking.
These encounters far out weighed the prospects of getting food poisoning.
These are the places where I met Peruanos at their most natural. Over food.
Never once did I feel unsafe here, even in the most back of back streets. Camping was a pleasure, the only time my senses switched to hyper mode at night was because of animals around the camp.
The scenery encountered will never be forgotten, the country, so influenced by the Andes and its proximity to the equator offers visual experiences in the extreme.
Mountains vegetated to their peaks, ravines and valleys deep beyond imagination, deserts and rocky terrain extreme in their dryness though always with beauty.
Rivers, huge, of all colours, sadly some unnatural, always present, accompanied by the roads that link the peoples of this country. The rivers’ line of least resistance through this grand landscape has allowed the Peruano road builders to take travellers into some of the most fascinating natural landscapes I have ever seen.
Along these roads, there were always people to greet, tiendas to buy sublimes and of course bored dogs.
Never once did you really feel alone.
Even in the most isolated of places the beauty of the surrounds took me in its arms and comforted me during times of cold or hardship.
Lastly, as mentioned before, a huge amount of admiration goes out to the brave and skilled people that have built the roads in Peru. The gradients were so forgiving, gravel nearly always negotiable from the bike seat.
In nearly all instances I would also say Peruano drivers have a respect for cyclists, a horn blast from behind alerted you to their presence. I had no moments where I felt endangered, though oncoming cars, passing were always a concern. Almost all truck and bus drivers would acknowledge a wave or would initiate their respect of your presence, with that of a horn blast, reduction in speed or a wide berth.
The rewards for climbing huge ranges, were always such a delight, those of views and in many cases 60 kilometres or more of downhill cruising.
Which always went far too fast.
I feel if you were to ever embark on a bike ride that takes you through all the emotions, pleasures and hardships. Peru is the place to come.
If you are one for the comforts of home whilst doing so, this kind of journey is not for you.
Also, if you are one for ticking boxes, your experience here will not be rich. The mountains and the roads that take you to their tops will become your burden .
Though if you are one for adventure, the unexpected, the natural environment
and interacting with the people, their culture and food, start planning.
I can assure you after doing so, you will be overcome with a sense of achievement and a warmth from all experienced on your journey, especially that from the Peruanos encountered along the way.
In saying this, allow at least 3 months.
Time, for me played the most important role in the richness of my experiences here in Peru. The word hurry was not in my vocab during my travels in Peru.
If you visit here on a bike with an unrealistic time frame or a lack of it. I feel your experience here will also become limited.
If you “have to” be somewhere on too many occasions, the romance and richness of your time here will be robbed from you.
A box you may have ticked, though unaccompanied with many possible experiences .
On arrival at the Peruvian border check point 2km from Tilali, they asked us why we didn’t complete formalities at Puno, we had expected this .
They were told of our plans to ride this east side of the lake then return to Peru.
The guys were great, they just noted our passport numbers and names and let us proceed. What the Bolivianos may do was not their concern.
Fifty metres on we were checked by the local police, it was all good.
The from here the road became all bad, that of large loose rocks, with an unrideable gradient. We were both reduced to walking our bikes some of the time.
For about 3km these conditions continued, though most of the time we had great views of the lake. At the top of the hill, we had reached the geographical border of Peru and Bolivia. There was a large gathering of people up here. The site offered sweeping views back over Titicaca.
The people, many dressed in traditional clothing were gathered for a funeral.
Respectfully we kept our little border crossing celebrations to a minimum with a few photos at the trig and a quite chat with some of those gathered.
It’s an odd thing, you cross to a different country and it always kind of feels different.
Here the houses scattered across the slopes above the lake were very basic, all one shape and most obvious was the lack of people about. All boundaries were marked by stone fences.
Vehicles were almost non existent.
We had to walk the bikes at times. The loose rocks on the “track” were impossible to ride between. I fell off a couple of times, so did Deirdre.
I am amazed and so respectful of her ability to endure some of the conditions we have encountered.
Having a companion on a journey like this, male or female, who was complaining about this and that would not be a proposition as far as I am concerned.
We have now got ourselves in a social pattern that fits our persuit. Only just this morning we both said it was just great to be with each other and not always talking. Just our company was sufficient.
So as usual I let her ride ahead.
The road was now descending to Puerto Acosta where the Bolivian os had their border post.
This road was fast becoming dangerous with loose sharp rocks everywhere. We were on the brakes, hard all the way down. One fall out of control could spell disaster.
I put my helmet on for the first time in months. I had said just, only the other day how much of a waste of time it was carrying it.
Again I fell off at low speed. It was also getting late in the day and cool with it.
Finally after crossing a creek we arrived at Puerto Acosta.
Bolivia sure is different, the town square had nothing resembling the vibrancy of Peruvian towns of the same size. Few people were present.
We changed some Soles for Bolivianos, getting 2.4 for 1 sole, much haggling and por favoring from me could get her to 2.5, mas o menos she kept saying.
We then headed for the border post out of town a bit and over a bridge.
The guys there, were very thorough. They asked us why we didn’t have exit stamps for Peru. This is when the little Spanish I knew had to be used.
I told them we were going to Copacabana to do some touristy things then cross the border to Kasani to do immigration formalities in Peru.
They also noticed I had overstayed my time in Peru.
After some time and a spiel about the dog bite they said we could go .
We were lucky to be allowed to travel the next 200km in Bolivia with no entry being formalised.
No doubt they will check to see if we entered the country formally in a few days time at Copacabana.
Leaving here we headed back to town.
Looking for a hospedaje, people did not know what we were on about.
They are called Alojamientos here.
We found the 5 De Noviembre, at 40 B for the night. About $3.80 each.
People here were not quite as friendly as those in the towns in Peru only just half an hour away by car.
One must remember that Bolivia is one, if not the poorest country in South America.
No doubt as more time is spent here, our interactions and experiences with them will be just as enjoyable and rich as those with the Peruanos, Ecuadrianos and Colombianos.
We are looking forward to all Bolivia has to show us.
The accommodation was basic, no shower, but, hey, it was shelter, we were warm and safe, all was good.
Settling in and heading out for a meal we wandered about looking for a restaurant all the while walking on the cobbled streets here in town.
The only restaurant or comedor open was full everyone sitting at one table in the tiny room.
We ordered beef and rice.
The meat was stacked in a heap against the wall, the lady grabbed a few chucks and dropped them in pan of boiling oil.
The cool climate allowed for this kind of meat storage???
Deep fried beef chops, yet another new culinary experience.
Who cared, the place was warm and social. The food was enjoyed, the chops eaten with our hands.
We wandered back to the lodgings, laughing about the day and how different Bolivia was.
Deirdre giving me a hard time about my foot slap which was noticeable on the cobblestones. This humorous exchange lessened the effects of the cold evening.
It was bitterly cold here in town. Bed was welcome.
The last Peruvian town on the eastern side of Lago Titicaca.
Early morning market lower plaza Puerto Acosta, BO
the trig at the PE, BO border and Titicaca again so blue
|
1932– 35 The Chaco War with Paraguay ends in stalemate and huge loss of life.
Leaning against the wall of our room in Puerto Acosta
Deirdre enjoying trout in Tilali plaza de armas
Our first taste of Bolivian roads, not surprisingly traffic was like the weight of a feather.
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