tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-70585813398789474882024-03-05T23:51:34.331-08:00Cycling with SerendipityScribbles on cycle-touring and other adventures in lifeMegsy Dhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05298194015249543749noreply@blogger.comBlogger42125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7058581339878947488.post-62731693648285053782012-02-09T20:17:00.000-08:002012-03-04T22:25:30.093-08:00The Land of Wind and the Land of Fire: Patagonia and Tierra del Fuego (11th -30th Jan '12)<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhss0c-y53nONFWPqTvqsU-p7GXUB-_XDlttHiWetz-RAD63xjAU7qxt5P9enIG1i-zezN1eOEUrATjhLtPlmWwUsnhqts2HEcHlZMA0ZCUgzBuUkR2S7PNPCm4A8j6UnXc51etPxb0sNk/s1600/IMG_6984.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; cssfloat: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" sda="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhss0c-y53nONFWPqTvqsU-p7GXUB-_XDlttHiWetz-RAD63xjAU7qxt5P9enIG1i-zezN1eOEUrATjhLtPlmWwUsnhqts2HEcHlZMA0ZCUgzBuUkR2S7PNPCm4A8j6UnXc51etPxb0sNk/s320/IMG_6984.JPG" width="179" /></a></div><div style="font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; line-height: 115%; margin-bottom: 0.35cm;"><span style="background: none transparent scroll repeat 0% 0%;">Windy. One word I think all cycle-tourists would use when asked to describe Patagonia east of the Andes. The wind pretty much started as soon as we crossed over from Chile into Argentina. The crossing itself was quite an adventure. We had to take a boat across Lago Villa O'Higgins where we joined up with a small, rough road for 15kms of riding (and a lot of pushing uphill to a pass), through the Chilean/Argentinian border. On the Argentinian side of the border there is a small horse track, which with loaded bikes is no easy feat. The track involved almost 7kms of pushing past rocks and bushes, lifting the bike over fallen trees, crossing streams and getting stuck in deep ruts. And to add to the adventure a little bit of snow and hail on the way. Once we finally got down to the small Argentinean borderpost on the shores of Lago del Desierto we then took a boat across the lake to reach a rideable (joy!) gravel road.</span></div><div style="font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; line-height: 115%; margin-bottom: 0.35cm;"><span style="background: none transparent scroll repeat 0% 0%;">This crossing is famously hard in the lore of South America cycle tourists, but we actually enjoyed it as we ended up doing it the same day as some other cycle tourists, Chris and Jaco, and Andy and Anita, and it ended up being a real team-building exercise! </span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg65Gk3RcD4C1C0It43IwmBIRlHYx179GoWIFtAqpL4LQ6ZTwRJvuTVTqvmcNEN9_-CSV4GNOiE6dIN7qlfA3xeUp7K-LvKaWP0qWfFRZCekqJD4G6uQa_ECamjwz7sS2_gbPw0roBcERU/s1600/IMG_6883.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; cssfloat: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" sda="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg65Gk3RcD4C1C0It43IwmBIRlHYx179GoWIFtAqpL4LQ6ZTwRJvuTVTqvmcNEN9_-CSV4GNOiE6dIN7qlfA3xeUp7K-LvKaWP0qWfFRZCekqJD4G6uQa_ECamjwz7sS2_gbPw0roBcERU/s320/IMG_6883.JPG" width="213" /></a></div><div style="font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; line-height: 115%; margin-bottom: 0.35cm;"><span style="background: none transparent scroll repeat 0% 0%;">We </span><span style="background: none transparent scroll repeat 0% 0%;">helped each other with the bikes in the tough parts, in the stream crossings, or when we got ourselves into awkward positions. We gained ourselves a new cycling family, which was expanded when we reached the touristy town of El Chalten and met up with more cyclists, John and Cathy, Ping and Alex, and Bernard. The All-you-can-eat pizza place didn't know what had hit them. We spent some time hanging in El Chalten and with all the cyclists we went for what was possibly the world's slowest hike (with far more time spent chatting than walking) up to a glacier, Lake Toro and Cero Torro. </span></div><div style="font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; line-height: 115%; margin-bottom: 0.35cm;"><span style="background: none transparent scroll repeat 0% 0%;">Leaving El Chalten we entered the Patagonia of my imagination – the land of endless pampas grass, wind and desolation. The wind cannot be believed until it has been experienced. When we first left El Chalten and experienced the famous Patagonian wind, it was strongly in our backs and we zoomed along at almost unimaginable cycling speeds. I tried a number of different experiments to test out the wind's force. At one point I started from deadstill and tried to see how long I could go without pedalling. I went 10km before I got bored from sitting on the bike and not doing anything and started pedalling just for the fun of it – but during the time that I hadn't been pedalling I reached 45 km/hr, and probably averaged around 35-40km/hr. Did I mention that this was Without peddling!!! </span><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjCpO2f_YhmD6j_OxODluHq3InL2aUwTpSxSD5LKt4ZtUvSaa4Awj0m4-0alUwH6KRt3GpCEHKFxLFTX8YPhHK-YskB_wdw9dGDf-HmlDzTsAWr4M5ZKbJq7acuGltex4OK8yXy5XnreKQ/s1600/IMG_6923.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; cssfloat: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="179" sda="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjCpO2f_YhmD6j_OxODluHq3InL2aUwTpSxSD5LKt4ZtUvSaa4Awj0m4-0alUwH6KRt3GpCEHKFxLFTX8YPhHK-YskB_wdw9dGDf-HmlDzTsAWr4M5ZKbJq7acuGltex4OK8yXy5XnreKQ/s320/IMG_6923.JPG" width="320" /></a></div><div style="font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; line-height: 115%; margin-bottom: 0.35cm;"><span style="background: none transparent scroll repeat 0% 0%;">The wind is all well and good when it is in your back, and for most of our time through Patagonia the wind was kind to us. But the wind also swung around, and the road snaked, and we often ended up fighting the wind, riding with our bikes on a serious lean and (don't read this bit mum) struggling to stop being blown into the middle of the road. This was possibly the only time that I was happy that our loaded bikes are so heavy as anything lighter would have been picked up and blown away! And then there was the times that we ended up with a headwind and were slowed down to a crawl, fighting our way through a wall of wind. The wind sometimes dictated our route as well, like the time we tried to go into El Calafate but after about 100m of pushing into a galeforce we gave up and turned around. Hmm never wanted to see that big glacier anyway..</span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhiIw0yNQ_fPWHm2elYpAYUSUrOcISU_Mixuvk8lYgU0wJxc9xwZYm30YHltDTXs_LpDKcIBtve9KFFQhdilug3tCxD7v5bAhoJu1PGBrvTnKxyTyjCBQJ9TIcrm0sY755jAsqPBttGqjs/s1600/IMG_7316.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; cssfloat: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" sda="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhiIw0yNQ_fPWHm2elYpAYUSUrOcISU_Mixuvk8lYgU0wJxc9xwZYm30YHltDTXs_LpDKcIBtve9KFFQhdilug3tCxD7v5bAhoJu1PGBrvTnKxyTyjCBQJ9TIcrm0sY755jAsqPBttGqjs/s320/IMG_7316.JPG" width="320" /></a></div><div style="font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; line-height: 115%; margin-bottom: 0.35cm;"><span style="background: none transparent scroll repeat 0% 0%;">Very few people live in the area of Southern Patagonia that we cycled through. In our three-ish weeks in this area we passed through a few larger towns, such as Puerto Natales and Punta Arenas but most of the time we were passing through unpopulated steppe, with only the occasional estancia (huge farm, like a station or a ranch) or police post. There were dots on our map – which in other areas would be towns, but in these remote areas could turn out to be abandonded bus-stops, or ancient cemeteries – or in best case scenario an estancia. We enjoyed the quiet riding, and the lack of cars, though of course sometimes it meant carrying extra supplies. We decided to take the more ripio (gravel) road through Tierra del Fuego, avoiding the main road for as long as possible and this turned out to be one of our favourite sections of the trip.</span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEigaiqzoSfhVfxjKlIlkvTWEJn52DzC4RM2YRJX30fxH-FhVm2rvBHH2lo6ZTAtuUFsYibihb7wFtbTE-GbCGtz0wjbFbzcHhDdnvd8ptt42pYVSASgNbDLC05kUCvfAf1Mqs-8sABhJQ8/s1600/IMG_7292.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; cssfloat: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="213" sda="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEigaiqzoSfhVfxjKlIlkvTWEJn52DzC4RM2YRJX30fxH-FhVm2rvBHH2lo6ZTAtuUFsYibihb7wFtbTE-GbCGtz0wjbFbzcHhDdnvd8ptt42pYVSASgNbDLC05kUCvfAf1Mqs-8sABhJQ8/s320/IMG_7292.JPG" width="320" /></a></div><div style="font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; line-height: 115%; margin-bottom: 0.35cm;"><span style="background: none transparent scroll repeat 0% 0%;">We camped at one estancia with picturesque old farm buildings surrounded by lupins -Estancia Cameron on Tierra del Fuego. We assumed it was a town, as we had read a blog about some cyclists that brought bread and beer there, but it was actually just a very large farm, which housed many worker families.. It was a great old place, well-kept and it felt like we were back in the Patagonia that we had read about. In a wonderful example of Chilean hospitality the owners of the estancia let us camp in the church yard, surrounded by old farming machinery, and brought us bread, salami, cheese, beer and the most delicious empanadas we had ever tasted – plus, some interesting stories about life out on the estancia.</span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj3Jg3IF16-5DQdByylBHeenH02eBI8DzgpDYqiGHSejGGdao9eKAp2qOuvS-Sx_xrU3yzyoYUEcHcfPGNNUX8ARTp3_TiB5cu5Ee3D-ojiNWdwva7I2iJAt6Oe4fgRBA-g4ntfldaHr98/s1600/IMG_7312.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; cssfloat: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" sda="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj3Jg3IF16-5DQdByylBHeenH02eBI8DzgpDYqiGHSejGGdao9eKAp2qOuvS-Sx_xrU3yzyoYUEcHcfPGNNUX8ARTp3_TiB5cu5Ee3D-ojiNWdwva7I2iJAt6Oe4fgRBA-g4ntfldaHr98/s320/IMG_7312.JPG" width="320" /></a></div><div style="font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; line-height: 115%; margin-bottom: 0.35cm;"><span style="background: none transparent scroll repeat 0% 0%;">The Patagonian pampas was great for wildlife spotting. We saw lots of guanacos (in the camelid family), nandus/rheas (like an emu), foxes, condors, skunks (one at the entrance to our tent one morning – ek!), an armadillo and lots more . On Tierra del Fuego we visited a King Penguin colony, which are usually only found in Antarctica and the Southern islands, and we also spent lots of times watching the very tame guanacos, who spent a lot of time watching us right back. One was very intrigued, came very close to me and Jaco and then charged us. Someone had told us that when guanacos fight they attack each other between the legs, so as the guanaco was charging me I had Jules yelling from a safe distance “watch out for your crotch” - helpful advice from afar, thanks honey. Guanacos make the strangest noise – best approximated as a laughing alien – which sounds very creepy floating across the wide-open, empty pampas...especially when you know they are standing back there planning an attack on your nether-regions.</span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjYO1ISIeU27Fnkp70C23m701CBZ7qRV3ZyDMqMXPOvNrptivYZPi92HT4BwhihKGNQUmogp2CKtlkuED6V1IhwqGS7M6jf9yULwVZCjlec5EIMoYsfRQyA4-hvrSBfgDsPyEceg37oDGM/s1600/IMG_7300.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; cssfloat: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="213" sda="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjYO1ISIeU27Fnkp70C23m701CBZ7qRV3ZyDMqMXPOvNrptivYZPi92HT4BwhihKGNQUmogp2CKtlkuED6V1IhwqGS7M6jf9yULwVZCjlec5EIMoYsfRQyA4-hvrSBfgDsPyEceg37oDGM/s320/IMG_7300.JPG" width="320" /></a></div><div style="font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; line-height: 115%; margin-bottom: 0.35cm;"><span style="background: none transparent scroll repeat 0% 0%;">As we approached the bottom of Tierra del Fuego the open pampas gave way to stunted forests of <i>Northofagus</i>. We crossed back into Argentina at our quietest border crossing yet – it was so very small that they haven't even built a bridge over the river to connect the two countries. We had to push our bikes through shin-deep, freezing water to cross the river and enter Argentina for the last time. In Argentina we rejoined the main highway for our last couple of days to the end of road, Ushuaia and even more importantly to our real aim.. the Bakery “La Union”, about a day's ride before Ushuaia. Not only is this bakery everything you could dream up for baked goodness, it is run by a cycling enthusiast who gives cycle-tourists a shower, a feed and a bed in the bakery's warehouse (hello fantasy world). Chris and Jaco and Jules and I were in heaven. And here we met Alain, who we had first met on our second day out of Anchorage, a year and a half before!</span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEivxlwRfd5OJNJM5izwhU1WRw2uiShoYjzLwj6IGOnPgHVQvcpuqVQWbFVL9IJJ__ukDOIM_3tQzaNfkqW8Jd4Nt7oOAbghzVXKlF2zxMjL88-1_7SSLN_vo9oBuDpvf5G5fj7v2kaYUTE/s1600/IMG_7432.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; cssfloat: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="213" sda="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEivxlwRfd5OJNJM5izwhU1WRw2uiShoYjzLwj6IGOnPgHVQvcpuqVQWbFVL9IJJ__ukDOIM_3tQzaNfkqW8Jd4Nt7oOAbghzVXKlF2zxMjL88-1_7SSLN_vo9oBuDpvf5G5fj7v2kaYUTE/s320/IMG_7432.JPG" width="320" /></a></div><div style="font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; line-height: 115%; margin-bottom: 0.35cm;"><span style="background: none transparent scroll repeat 0% 0%;">Our last few days on the bike, as we were running out of room for cycling, I was a bit glum as I wasn't quite ready to finish up our trip. We really dragged out the last few days of cycling as long as possible by camping about 10km before Ushuaia, and then actually passing straight through Ushuaia out to the final final end of the road at Lapataia in the Tierra del Fuego National Park – where we camped and enjoyed all our “lasts” - the last time we would both eat out of the same saucepan using only spoons, the last time to pack up the bikes, the last time for second breaky etcetc.</span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhXsdSTVxRHn-bsOwGNmKVvoEEu9hDx8_jhymiN3z5ta9sOrEcBhk8K8D_7ovS6Nz6Ja2vmzVxJQ7G3S-hZlgHWhEZE3IjE4bfKtkXvii0wnIHS9pNJ8u9XTl5Siv7b8tGzhcyWs0Q062A/s1600/IMG_6991.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; cssfloat: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="179" sda="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhXsdSTVxRHn-bsOwGNmKVvoEEu9hDx8_jhymiN3z5ta9sOrEcBhk8K8D_7ovS6Nz6Ja2vmzVxJQ7G3S-hZlgHWhEZE3IjE4bfKtkXvii0wnIHS9pNJ8u9XTl5Siv7b8tGzhcyWs0Q062A/s320/IMG_6991.JPG" width="320" /></a></div><div style="font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; line-height: 115%; margin-bottom: 0.35cm;"><span style="background: none transparent scroll repeat 0% 0%;">I wasn't ready to finish up as it has been such an amazing trip, meeting so many people, seeing so many amazing places and travelling in the best way that we could imagine.. by bicycle. Though, on one of our last cycling days into Ushuaia, when we got caught in heavy rainshower, got soaked through and freezing cold – and ended up seeking refuge in a dog kennel, where all we could smell was wet dog... we did look around and admit that maybe there would be some things that we wouldn't miss about the cycle touring. But even though we were stuck in a dog kennel we were still with our good cycling friends, Chris and Jaco, we still managed to make each other laugh, we made a cup of tea, and half an hour later the weather cleared revealing fantastic views down the valley and we found a magic little free camp next to a picturesque river. Dog kennels aside we are really going to miss the cycle-touring! </span></div><div style="font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; line-height: 115%; margin-bottom: 0.35cm;"><span style="background: none transparent scroll repeat 0% 0%;">This is our last cycling blog.. but stay tuned for one more as we get our head around finishing up, the packing away of the bicycles and our adventures to make it back home.</span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi_FJ61KC-YJR40KaWoA-deiCcTnVSMqlFvEilgIQyWGrOIsl3o8eh-CSvAbkvm4c_BxEveSrZwil0MfP5KRsNqPtyQtisgbujuJ0zFwVMb2NBRRV29JfHSsXwLkYxIjaIze1sxETA4ZTE/s1600/IMG_7037.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="213" sda="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi_FJ61KC-YJR40KaWoA-deiCcTnVSMqlFvEilgIQyWGrOIsl3o8eh-CSvAbkvm4c_BxEveSrZwil0MfP5KRsNqPtyQtisgbujuJ0zFwVMb2NBRRV29JfHSsXwLkYxIjaIze1sxETA4ZTE/s320/IMG_7037.JPG" width="320" /></a></div><div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none; font-weight: normal; line-height: 115%; margin-bottom: 0.35cm;"><br />
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</div><div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none; font-weight: normal; line-height: 115%; margin-bottom: 0.35cm;"><i><span style="background: none transparent scroll repeat 0% 0%;"><span style="font-size: x-small;">Tips for Cyclists</span></span></i></div><div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none; font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; line-height: 115%; margin-bottom: 0.35cm;"><span style="background: none transparent scroll repeat 0% 0%;"><span style="font-size: x-small;">Be prepared for the wind!! Riding north to south is definitely easiest in this area, as the winds are predominantley westerlys in summer and the N-S route gets more of these as tailwinds.. though you will still have lots of head and side winds too.. its still not “easy”.</span></span></div><div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none; font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; line-height: 115%; margin-bottom: 0.35cm;"><div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgAw_0Etc80S6aiJlBvqcXvgng042WJ1cq5kd2-YuXF5FnVV41GgQRqzqXY9-vRxicNva432_Z1H6JE-ATk1Z1W5ICyqvGTUsPSL9cQ2G45V35Ok2f2itXqe_0pnXESY3gjhc94QX21Ok0/s1600/IMG_7109.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; cssfloat: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="213" sda="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgAw_0Etc80S6aiJlBvqcXvgng042WJ1cq5kd2-YuXF5FnVV41GgQRqzqXY9-vRxicNva432_Z1H6JE-ATk1Z1W5ICyqvGTUsPSL9cQ2G45V35Ok2f2itXqe_0pnXESY3gjhc94QX21Ok0/s320/IMG_7109.JPG" width="320" /></a><span style="background: none transparent scroll repeat 0% 0%;"><span style="font-size: x-small;">There is quite a bit of info the Pan-Am Riders Google Group about this section if you do a search on here you will bring up some good distances, campsites etc. Here is the website for info on the ferries from Villa O'Higgins across Lago O'Higgins <a href="http://www.villaohiggins.com/hielosur/">http://www.villaohiggins.com/hielosur/</a> After the ferry ride it is 15kms on a dirt track and about 7kms of tough work on a horse track to Lago Desierto. Then you can camp for free near the Argintinean immigration post on the north side of Lago Desierto as you wait for the ferry to take you across. The cost of the ferry across Lago Desierto had gone up to 110 pesos, and they tried to charge us for the bikes (20pesos) - though we managed to bargain them down a bit as we had never heard of anyone being charged for the bikes before and it was pretty expensive already.</span></span></div></div><div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none; font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; line-height: 115%; margin-bottom: 0.35cm;"><span style="font-size: x-small;"><span style="background: none transparent scroll repeat 0% 0%;">We found that after El Chalten we had to plan our campspots a little more carefully as on the days that the wind is really strong (as it was often) then it was not possible to just wildcamp anywhere, we really needed to find shelter out of the wind. Luckily there are a few police posts, vialidads (road-machine warehouse/storage places), rivers and other areas to camp.. here are a few that we either stayed at or noted as potentials (distances heading north to south):</span></span><br />
<span style="font-size: x-small;"></span></div><div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none; font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; line-height: 115%; margin-bottom: 0.35cm;"><span style="font-size: x-small;"></span><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhRuiMR9HjwfIp-3_otEpyMIK9ndON9iWx2Zm10PTlNan3J6-ncniRysbRdN2jmRfDx8PtaF_dDImhXCOa5TgJT1QvgS7uqaWaNEIpwELktNx_wvs0iimXln4zZL63J99_ZCr7S6uAq72w/s1600/IMG_7353.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; cssfloat: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="213" sda="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhRuiMR9HjwfIp-3_otEpyMIK9ndON9iWx2Zm10PTlNan3J6-ncniRysbRdN2jmRfDx8PtaF_dDImhXCOa5TgJT1QvgS7uqaWaNEIpwELktNx_wvs0iimXln4zZL63J99_ZCr7S6uAq72w/s320/IMG_7353.JPG" width="320" /></a></div><div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none; font-weight: normal; line-height: 115%; margin-bottom: 0.35cm;"><ul style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;"><li><div style="font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; line-height: 115%; margin-bottom: 0.35cm;"><span style="background: none transparent scroll repeat 0% 0%;"><span style="font-size: x-small;"> La Leona river: 114 kms from El Chalten, there is a hotel where you can camp for US$10 per person – super expensive but if the wind was the galeforce that we had the shelter was worth every penny!!</span></span></div></li>
<li><div style="font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; line-height: 115%; margin-bottom: 0.35cm;"><span style="font-size: x-small;">There were a couple of buildings about 10 and 30kms from La Leona but not sure if they could offer shelter or not</span></div></li>
<li><div style="font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; line-height: 115%; margin-bottom: 0.35cm;"><span style="background: none transparent scroll repeat 0% 0%;"><span style="font-size: x-small;">87km from La Leona Hotel (east of the turnoff to El Calafate) is “Rio Bote” which is an ambulance and roadworks station – we camped down by the river which was nice and sheltered from the wind, a good spot</span></span><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh5FX4UBD2Th7-tuCR01WNP8CbYLKIA_eHNWSE7D5oDhUvZU4Ueift_QNUyakM8ZNqWyyEQY6YtRDeU8QfBvHU7sLBGTSgJuVk6AE-Uo2IYwRpJ-OD9taNB-4JhIMKi7qf5TeHXJSTO0BA/s1600/IMG_6888.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; cssfloat: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" sda="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh5FX4UBD2Th7-tuCR01WNP8CbYLKIA_eHNWSE7D5oDhUvZU4Ueift_QNUyakM8ZNqWyyEQY6YtRDeU8QfBvHU7sLBGTSgJuVk6AE-Uo2IYwRpJ-OD9taNB-4JhIMKi7qf5TeHXJSTO0BA/s320/IMG_6888.JPG" width="213" /></a></div></li>
<li><div style="font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; line-height: 115%; margin-bottom: 0.35cm;"><div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;"><span style="font-size: x-small;">El Cerrito: about 60-ish km from the turnoff to El Calafate, at the intersection of the cut-off road to Tapi Ake: is a vialidad and buildings, and supposedly the man is very nice and will provide you with shelter (we didn't stay there)</span></div></div></li>
<li><div style="font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; line-height: 115%; margin-bottom: 0.35cm;"><div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;"><span style="font-size: x-small;">Rio ?Tero: 20kms from El Cerrito on the ripio road to Tapi Aki - it is a police station and the officer's house on a small river. We met him on the road and he told us to camp at his house, out of the wind, even though he wasn't at home that night.</span></div></div></li>
<li><div style="font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; line-height: 115%; margin-bottom: 0.35cm;"><div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;"><span style="font-size: x-small;">Tapi Ake: About 45kms from Rio Tero where the cut-off road joined back up the main highway - another police post and a VERY small store (that wasn't open when we passed through but we think it had hardly any food), the policeman was very nice and said that cyclists can camp in their yard.</span></div></div></li>
<li><div style="font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; line-height: 115%; margin-bottom: 0.35cm;"><div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;"><span style="font-size: x-small;">Cancha Carrera border: The Chilean border guards were very nice and would probably let you stay there (tho' we went on to Cerro Castillo)</span></div></div></li>
</ul></div><ul style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;"><li><div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none; font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; line-height: 115%; margin-bottom: 0.35cm;"><span style="background: none transparent scroll repeat 0% 0%;"><span style="font-size: x-small;">In Cerro Castillo we camped in the children's park in town, great campsite – a grassy spot for the tent, great big wall for a wind shelter, picnic tables (if a little minature) and toilets half a block down the street. We asked the police for permission first but everyone in town was fine with us camping there.</span></span></div></li>
<li><div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none; font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; line-height: 115%; margin-bottom: 0.35cm;"><span style="font-size: x-small;">Morro Chico: 100km from Puerto Natales - a police post where they will let you either camp in a shed over the road or in a building out the back if the weather is very bad</span></div></li>
<li><div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none; font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; line-height: 115%; margin-bottom: 0.35cm;"><div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;"><span style="font-size: x-small;">Gobernador Phillipi: about 100km from Morro Chico - an intersection with a few houses and a service station. They let us camp in an empty donga (transportable building) that was small and dirty but out of the wind. The servo also sold the Best Hot Chocolates!</span></div></div></li>
</ul><div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none; line-height: 115%; margin-bottom: 0.35cm;"><div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjcByQxqpuhInVCVC1gS97dj6HcBj-qyCD77LWG98e-jqn5csazmuJPlrEqygJQqw3EgRQHRJabFmIZvtAB_4zfi4x_msW20hk578n4p0gezhLYt6lF_D4DOrSYRMi-78RBgvYXebSqmdY/s1600/IMG_7004.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; cssfloat: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="213" sda="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjcByQxqpuhInVCVC1gS97dj6HcBj-qyCD77LWG98e-jqn5csazmuJPlrEqygJQqw3EgRQHRJabFmIZvtAB_4zfi4x_msW20hk578n4p0gezhLYt6lF_D4DOrSYRMi-78RBgvYXebSqmdY/s320/IMG_7004.JPG" width="320" /></a><span style="font-style: normal;"><span style="font-weight: normal;"><span style="background: none transparent scroll repeat 0% 0%;"><span style="font-size: x-small;">Ferry from Punta Arenas to Porvenir details at: <a href="http://www.tabsa.cl/Html/Porvenir.php">http://www.tabsa.cl/Html/Porvenir.php</a> </span></span></span></span></div><div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;"><div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;"><span style="font-style: normal;"><span style="font-weight: normal;"><span style="background: none transparent scroll repeat 0% 0%;"><span style="font-size: x-small;">From Porvenir the road is ripio, but in pretty good condition and we really enjoyed this section. After about 100kms we went an alternative route, instead of continuing on to the border crossing at San Sebastian we turned off at the intersection that was about 100km east of Porvenir and followed the ripio. We ended up taking 7 days from Punta Arenas to Ushuaia, so this way is a little longer, on more ripio and a lot more remote but we really enjoyed it – hardly any cars, and you don't have to spend so long on the main highway. The ripio is in fairly good condition for almost the whole of the Chilean side. However, once you turn off the main road to go the ~13km to the border Paso Bella Vista, then the road gets a little rougher and then on the Argentinean side of the border the road is a lot worst. Some sections with lots of corrugations/washboard and loose ripio. </span></span></span></span></div></div></div><div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none; line-height: 115%; margin-bottom: 0.35cm;"><div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;"><div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEggJ9Tv8i0EaYCnVFS9dt0fQu1fPUpBLvJ3o1WDpYPUomBp9hn8USGq-U2uuCHV6p8lQaZq10GAoPpgbp6vLIgTvUl68_yKc6rpsEiKapNrfCcMZfERRkIMsOCR_8ti66DYdmNJkN8_530/s1600/IMG_7253.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; cssfloat: left; cssfloat: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" sda="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEggJ9Tv8i0EaYCnVFS9dt0fQu1fPUpBLvJ3o1WDpYPUomBp9hn8USGq-U2uuCHV6p8lQaZq10GAoPpgbp6vLIgTvUl68_yKc6rpsEiKapNrfCcMZfERRkIMsOCR_8ti66DYdmNJkN8_530/s320/IMG_7253.JPG" width="320" /></a><span style="font-style: normal;"><span style="font-weight: normal;"><span style="background: none transparent scroll repeat 0% 0%;"><span style="font-size: x-small;">Our camping spots on this section: On the road out of Porvenir there were a few potential spots within the first 30kms but we continued on to 80 kms out of Porvenir where there is a stand of trees that offered limited protection from the wind. The next day we camped at Estancia Cameron (a few kms off the road). Then at about 40kms past Cameron we started getting into some patches of forest which offered good protection from the wind and potential campsites. The night after Cameron we camped at the borderpost (Paso Bella Vista), and the following at an Estancia starting with V off the main highway (about 70kms before Tolhuin) – where they very kindly put us up in one of the old houses. Then the next day at the bakery (joy!).</span></span></span></span></div></div></div><div style="line-height: 115%; margin-bottom: 0.35cm;"><div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhXha0OqemImbVfshZr6M4sjFjb8jhcrw0Y1t41p_e4MN6fitA_8Fz8YvaYO6kgTeqhpXcLXqtOEh4tFCOQg12C0nYffhpRPvMCzVRTDPVVLYZlxRsplko7-JQqCo0IGdqD16R5jilh4x4/s1600/IMG_6859.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; cssfloat: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="213" sda="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhXha0OqemImbVfshZr6M4sjFjb8jhcrw0Y1t41p_e4MN6fitA_8Fz8YvaYO6kgTeqhpXcLXqtOEh4tFCOQg12C0nYffhpRPvMCzVRTDPVVLYZlxRsplko7-JQqCo0IGdqD16R5jilh4x4/s320/IMG_6859.JPG" width="320" /></a><span style="font-style: normal;"><span style="font-weight: normal;"><span style="background: none transparent scroll repeat 0% 0%;"><span style="font-size: x-small;">If you go this way (or even if you go through San Sebastian but want to take a detour then you can go and visit the newly established King Penguin colony about 14km south of the intersection that is 100km east of Porvenir. We had read about in some blogs from the year before, where it was possible to visit the penguins by jumping over a fence. However, by the time we got there the area had been made into a private park and was VERY expensive to get in to . $25 per person. But the family running it were very sweet and seemed to be doing a good job of protecting the colony (they said that they had had problems with impacts on the penguins due to the increase of visitors which is why they established the park), they very kindly let us in at a reduced price as we had to scrounge together money to pay.</span></span></span></span></div></div><div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none; font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; line-height: 115%; margin-bottom: 0.35cm;"><div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;"><span style="background: none transparent scroll repeat 0% 0%;"><span style="font-size: x-small;">Just before Ushuaia: If like us you are trying to drag out the end of your trip, then about 10kms before Ushuaia there are some good campspots on the river. We went down a small track at about 100m before the 3045 km marker and found a sheltered spot.</span></span></div></div><div style="font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; line-height: 115%; margin-bottom: 0.35cm;"><div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;"><div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhTlE0Cx6yImMa1QxdBSW4QQjjt4ZjFpm-VYIA62DEbtfdjuvR56sOoFt4e95xAZxQt_SSAl1fwXjYTnwbrNtH8Lsdb1OC_tDhA3bL_7VHN_9CBny_Tx_vsjpqCPs_KiJT9u1gweSxwPWE/s1600/IMG_7202.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; cssfloat: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="213" sda="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhTlE0Cx6yImMa1QxdBSW4QQjjt4ZjFpm-VYIA62DEbtfdjuvR56sOoFt4e95xAZxQt_SSAl1fwXjYTnwbrNtH8Lsdb1OC_tDhA3bL_7VHN_9CBny_Tx_vsjpqCPs_KiJT9u1gweSxwPWE/s320/IMG_7202.JPG" width="320" /></a><span style="background: none transparent scroll repeat 0% 0%;"><span style="font-size: x-small;">We cycled the last 25-ish kms out of Ushuaia to the end of the road in the Tierra del Fuego National Park, which is a cool little park, and with a great free campsite (although it costs 85 pesos to get into the park you can camp for two nights in the very pretty Laguna Verde campsite).</span></span></div></div><div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;"><span style="font-size: x-small;">In Ushuaia we stayed at the campsite (La Pista del Andino) which is about 3km up and out of town. Super-friendly and helpful people running the campground, and in a nice, quiet, wooded location. They let us sleep upstairs in the cafe the night before we flew out so we didn't have to pack the tent up wet, and provided a taxi-service to the airport with our bikes. Very friendly.</span></div></div>Megsy Dhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05298194015249543749noreply@blogger.com10tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7058581339878947488.post-9176541714319407612012-01-18T03:37:00.000-08:002012-03-04T22:25:30.094-08:00The Sublime Carretera Austral: Chaiten to Villa O'Higgins (23rd Dec '11 - 10th Jan '12)<div class="separator" style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none; clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgBJP1WXe-U1k9nQWpx7mWkIY0NyPUFkxJ87y2g4r-RolwViW05FrDHlKnsXfr300r28eXmemLiwgKGqngkPLFDPfw5v9p55M5WbR8w1oRm9-rfCx0aB0uVL3mfIS9mcsEhI7NJ62folEE/s1600/IMG_6617.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; cssfloat: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="179" kba="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgBJP1WXe-U1k9nQWpx7mWkIY0NyPUFkxJ87y2g4r-RolwViW05FrDHlKnsXfr300r28eXmemLiwgKGqngkPLFDPfw5v9p55M5WbR8w1oRm9-rfCx0aB0uVL3mfIS9mcsEhI7NJ62folEE/s320/IMG_6617.JPG" width="320" /></a></div><div style="font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; line-height: 115%; margin-bottom: 0.35cm;"><span style="background: none transparent scroll repeat 0% 0%;">The Carretera Austral is a 1200km+ stretch of mostly gravel road that runs through northwest Chilean Patagonia, past fiords, forest, glaciers, lakes and mountains. The road was only opened in 1988, and before then the area was primarily connected by sea access and small tracks. So it is a pretty special place, large parts of which still remain untouched. We had had an interesting introduction to the Carretera Austral further north in Chile when we met a Chilean who had worked on the (tough, dangerous, long drawn-out) construction of the road, and who got out his personal photo albums to give us a history lesson.</span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgQRritND04MIwB5igWrMu2jRPtxRwHNKFxvKnqmEDPwl604V4oYb3cTn6lbJrjllXBwLMa56I_uSZHJlupCnaX08lHuupkZ3QPjrpBIuSYpKBOlvNmqa7t0DnfT2K57Tj4RNjmItWEo8I/s1600/IMG_6207.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; cssfloat: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="179" kba="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgQRritND04MIwB5igWrMu2jRPtxRwHNKFxvKnqmEDPwl604V4oYb3cTn6lbJrjllXBwLMa56I_uSZHJlupCnaX08lHuupkZ3QPjrpBIuSYpKBOlvNmqa7t0DnfT2K57Tj4RNjmItWEo8I/s320/IMG_6207.JPG" width="320" /></a></div><div style="font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; line-height: 115%; margin-bottom: 0.35cm;"><span style="background: none transparent scroll repeat 0% 0%;">We had originally planned to meet back up with a bunch of cycling friends in Santiago for Christmas, but unfortunately the ferry that we had planned to take to connect up with the Carretera Austral broke down (the road is still not connected to Chile by land, only through ferry connections, or coming through Argentina in the east). We didn't have so much time left to complete our trip as we have a deadline to get home for a friends wedding... and Patagonia was calling. So, with sadness, we missed the cyclists party and instead caught a ferry from Puerto Montt to Chaiten and the start of the Carretera Austral. While we were sad not to be able to see our friends we were pretty excited about heading into Patagonia, an area that we have been dreaming of cycling for a very long time.</span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiEXt9WYWsTrK_QnTOdLDAqZ9-FiNM-_UiSpDS0Hq3FGw6trg6gd_ujob8HnqO9yjSRhDvPeu11OhakjAv5m8QjJ2WU0JCrnPEBe-eOit1xzdYPz85FUPEvdu16KAophHQhjIWX4iQC0ZA/s1600/IMG_6460.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; cssfloat: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="179" kba="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiEXt9WYWsTrK_QnTOdLDAqZ9-FiNM-_UiSpDS0Hq3FGw6trg6gd_ujob8HnqO9yjSRhDvPeu11OhakjAv5m8QjJ2WU0JCrnPEBe-eOit1xzdYPz85FUPEvdu16KAophHQhjIWX4iQC0ZA/s320/IMG_6460.JPG" width="320" /></a></div><div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none; font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; line-height: 115%; margin-bottom: 0.35cm;"><span style="background: none transparent scroll repeat 0% 0%;">The Carretera Austral area is pretty wild, with often wild weather extremes - we had heard stories of cyclists battling the wind, rain, storms, etc, and we prepared ourselves for nasty weather, and in particular the rain that this area is famed for. This of course meant that we had perfect weather, with blue skies our whole time on the Carretera! Instead of the problem of having to find shelter to camp in and ways to dry all our wet gear, we ended up having the problem of warm days and not enough sun-cream to get us through! </span></div><div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none; font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; line-height: 115%; margin-bottom: 0.35cm;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjfruHgUKX2E5TpUbTLyDDTaqCvOUPcpyuJFunFovYsCOBHVA0RCfizLv8g9G5P0JCyPfmi-nsLwH9vXoY098-H0xdL98QQJgYsCdpX_oQi2GGJupldR4YaHPzonQ3LyfArJbRnYifbUfQ/s1600/IMG_6777.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; cssfloat: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="179" kba="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjfruHgUKX2E5TpUbTLyDDTaqCvOUPcpyuJFunFovYsCOBHVA0RCfizLv8g9G5P0JCyPfmi-nsLwH9vXoY098-H0xdL98QQJgYsCdpX_oQi2GGJupldR4YaHPzonQ3LyfArJbRnYifbUfQ/s320/IMG_6777.JPG" width="320" /></a><span style="background: none transparent scroll repeat 0% 0%;">One of Jules' little superstitions (she has many) meant that we couldn't buy new sunscreen while the sun was shining as if we did it was sure to make it rain. So we had to start rationing our sunscreen as we peddled for more than two weeks under the most extraordinarily good weather! We were starting to think it never rained in this area, until on our last day on the Carretera into Villa O'Higgins, where the road ends, we had about an hour of drizzle – not too bad at all! Though the next day, which was a rest day for us as we waited for the boat to take us across Lago Villa O'Higgins, the weather gods decided to show us what we had avoided so far during our time on the Carretera. It was miserable and wet all day - ahha that was more like what we were expecting! God-forbid that our tent should get wet, so we got a hostal to get all cozy and listen to the rain on the roof</span><span style="background: none transparent scroll repeat 0% 0%;">.</span></div><div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none; font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; line-height: 115%; margin-bottom: 0.35cm;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhCiSEi0JGNLIsw5W5ZUZAmqKnrSdKZfs4kWV6o5JS0VWjXVFqinNSW2PRSlBbcQ72JRrtMFjeXxQpeG4IvB3s2d0ZElvvXJtgHZymRgSB5tnaJT7s30cgQXIqusplxMHofNYK8inKTo88/s1600/IMG_6725.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; cssfloat: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="179" kba="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhCiSEi0JGNLIsw5W5ZUZAmqKnrSdKZfs4kWV6o5JS0VWjXVFqinNSW2PRSlBbcQ72JRrtMFjeXxQpeG4IvB3s2d0ZElvvXJtgHZymRgSB5tnaJT7s30cgQXIqusplxMHofNYK8inKTo88/s320/IMG_6725.JPG" width="320" /></a><span style="background: none transparent scroll repeat 0% 0%;">When we started off on the Carretera Austral it reminded us a lot of our first experiences cycling in Alaska. Arriving on the ferry in Chaiten, into a green land of mountains and forest and wilderness reminded us of when we first arrived into Anchorage on the ferry. The main difference on starting the </span><span style="background: none transparent scroll repeat 0% 0%;">Carretera was that Jules didn't spend the entire time being terrified of bears and envisaging us being torn alive by a grizzly. </span><span style="background: none transparent scroll repeat 0% 0%;">Thankfully in Patagonia there are less wild animals to be scared of. However, in Patagonia because of all the warning signs and information on the dangers of the Hanta Virus (a virus spread by mice faeces and urine) Jules is now terrified of mice wee. And instead of always asking me if there might be any bears around, in Patagonia she is always asking if there is a chance that a mouse might have wee-ed in our camping spot.</span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj0oJV-N2xkPpV6wY3rV5oWKmZ_mzgM1Fh2UhqT5G9f8iiZThDp9iTzH83CpikkuOGY-SXhyzF-OO5GHUs6rEg6ldrApAGDxd7iVZ71y4r_3AwKGILrm0ihkRHHuIHY87gkb4pBlwHgL80/s1600/IMG_6344.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; cssfloat: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" kba="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj0oJV-N2xkPpV6wY3rV5oWKmZ_mzgM1Fh2UhqT5G9f8iiZThDp9iTzH83CpikkuOGY-SXhyzF-OO5GHUs6rEg6ldrApAGDxd7iVZ71y4r_3AwKGILrm0ihkRHHuIHY87gkb4pBlwHgL80/s320/IMG_6344.JPG" width="179" /></a></div><div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none; font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; line-height: 115%; margin-bottom: 0.35cm;"><span style="background: none transparent scroll repeat 0% 0%;">We had days of sublime riding, past scenery as beautiful as I have ever seen. Wild rivers and lakes, forest, snow-capped volcanoes, glaciers. Every day was a scene from a tourism brochure. And we could wonder through this land, finding fantastic free camps and lakes and rivers to “fish” in. </span></div><div style="font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; line-height: 115%; margin-bottom: 0.35cm;"><span style="background: none transparent scroll repeat 0% 0%;">I use the word “fish” loosely as our apparatus consisted of a handline and a fishing pole macgyvered up by Jules from some bamboo she had found on the side of the road. We did look quite ridiculous and when we met Christian (a very helpful Swiss cyclist) he told us that with the hooks we were using we were likely to “catch a whale”. So with a little help from him we rejigged our lines. We still weren't very serious fishers though and only had gone “fishing” a couple of times as an excuse to chill out next to a beautiful river or lake. Jules would throw her line in a few times, then get bored and declare that there were no fish in the river. So it gave us the shock of our life when we actually caught a fish. We had stopped for lunch at a lake and Jules decided to throw the line in a few times (as an excuse to get out of making lunch I think). She suddenly squealed and said in a high-pitched voice “There's a fish on my line”, she then promptly tripped over and landed in the water. However, somehow in all the confusion she still managed to land the fish, which was very decent-sized and which tasted amazing cooked up on our camp stove that night!</span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjlfKsj66UgRHg3PO1PSOQFH0rphXo165KGTuon0sX8dhCdaSfIQxmgDYGtEKp4EBXVTDaBnsz2mrIxgu-utxlkkKdsZKPTxXY_CN-Bc0vZY-rDzDat9WUpw4xa2jVLGoLSTUK4NikFt3k/s1600/IMG_6528.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; cssfloat: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="179" kba="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjlfKsj66UgRHg3PO1PSOQFH0rphXo165KGTuon0sX8dhCdaSfIQxmgDYGtEKp4EBXVTDaBnsz2mrIxgu-utxlkkKdsZKPTxXY_CN-Bc0vZY-rDzDat9WUpw4xa2jVLGoLSTUK4NikFt3k/s320/IMG_6528.JPG" width="320" /></a></div><div style="font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; line-height: 115%; margin-bottom: 0.35cm;"><span style="background: none transparent scroll repeat 0% 0%;">In the northern stretches of the Carretera Austral we passed through lush forests and past snow-capped volcanoes. We had Christmas by the picturesque Yelcho Lake and camped in the very pretty Queulat Nature Reserve where we hiked up to the hanging glacier. The north was very impressive and wild, but we were even more stunned by the area south of Cohaique, where the Carretera went through the Cerro Castillo nature reserve with its rocky mountains and the granite needles rising up to create a fortress-looking rock feature overlooking the road. We spent New Years in this park – we had thought we would be wild camping and I had bought chocolate with almonds in it to celebrate New Years (woohhoo- really living it up) but we ended up stumbling on an offical campsite in the national park where we stayed and saw in 2012 with new friends, wine and an interesting Chilean-German-Swiss-Australian celebration.</span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiPw6kv_t0RZU-mFa8msn7rQQQIMv5XOMu9DqSSV2ZGYV4DxQ0qSqu4jagy3TZhuUEYILCaXh8uH8V9vQ-IP7tvC0Ayxvg_72i61XWXFBGHgvd0H6sacjKgzgy_xXNQmO6GLK0s49Se6-A/s1600/IMG_6645.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; cssfloat: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="179" kba="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiPw6kv_t0RZU-mFa8msn7rQQQIMv5XOMu9DqSSV2ZGYV4DxQ0qSqu4jagy3TZhuUEYILCaXh8uH8V9vQ-IP7tvC0Ayxvg_72i61XWXFBGHgvd0H6sacjKgzgy_xXNQmO6GLK0s49Se6-A/s320/IMG_6645.JPG" width="320" /></a></div><div style="font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; line-height: 115%; margin-bottom: 0.35cm;"><span style="background: none transparent scroll repeat 0% 0%;">Around every turn of the Carretera the scenery just appeared to get more stunning. Following Cerro Castillo we passed through an area with amazing coloured rivers and lakes – Lago General Carrera, Lago Bertrand and the River Baker. We cycled through lush Gondwanian forest of <i>Northofagus</i> (Southern Beech) dripping in lichens, roads lined with the giant-leaved Nalcas and the colourful Fuschias and we had views of waterfalls falling from ice-fields and glaciers to form streams and rivers, so sublimely unpolluted.</span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhfkDlhHrs6S1GJaBPYwWKgW3zY977LDEUleGPnH-sVpFliIy_iE9r1TRj_gB3V9whLoyOwHkETEiSN02rqNNpN4Sy2eZYsHTiFqlS3cNyiC-nrb_Q5fQRapqZIg2C25-vejQOG-wByBD8/s1600/IMG_6772.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; cssfloat: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="213" kba="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhfkDlhHrs6S1GJaBPYwWKgW3zY977LDEUleGPnH-sVpFliIy_iE9r1TRj_gB3V9whLoyOwHkETEiSN02rqNNpN4Sy2eZYsHTiFqlS3cNyiC-nrb_Q5fQRapqZIg2C25-vejQOG-wByBD8/s320/IMG_6772.JPG" width="320" /></a></div><div style="font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; line-height: 115%; margin-bottom: 0.35cm;"><span style="background: none transparent scroll repeat 0% 0%;">In the southern section of the Carretera there were more moorlands, with swampy lands and stunted vegetation. We visited the interesting little town of Tortel which had no roads to it until 2003 and where the whole town is built around a collection of boardwalks. After Tortel we caught the ferry which connects the last little scrap of Carretera - the road from Puerto Yungay, which was only opened in 2000, connects to the end of the Carretera Austral at Villa O'Higgins. From here, as cyclists, it is possible to catch a ferry, cycle/push your bike up 21kms of 4wd tracks and horse trails, catch another ferry and arrive into Argentina. Which is the next adventure in store for us...</span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiEE8mxg4REaQ8XEz1vKx2gKvXogX-9VGg8qiIApq2xkOjAHtVM1bEuG9pEp4wvKLkwAIUD57hr2f946dPzJeLV_F7gPn7PL_39Kc0prgzw7RxBuDsAGpFmS8ynJ3dGYhjVPsEZZ00vF7U/s1600/IMG_6755.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; cssfloat: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="213" kba="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiEE8mxg4REaQ8XEz1vKx2gKvXogX-9VGg8qiIApq2xkOjAHtVM1bEuG9pEp4wvKLkwAIUD57hr2f946dPzJeLV_F7gPn7PL_39Kc0prgzw7RxBuDsAGpFmS8ynJ3dGYhjVPsEZZ00vF7U/s320/IMG_6755.JPG" width="320" /></a></div><div style="font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; line-height: 115%; margin-bottom: 0.35cm;"><span style="background: none transparent scroll repeat 0% 0%;">The Carretera Austral was one of the highlights of our trip so far, it is such a magical place, with so much beauty – and we were so lucky with the weather that accompanied us! We were also very happy to be able to see this area as it is now, as there are controversial plans to dam a number of the rivers for hydroelectric power. It is a big topic of discussion in the area at the moment - check out “Patagonia Sin Represas” for more information. </span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi68xk6xoYjX8FeG_Sc8eHkdjqsLyVfr7LzOruTpPBEtt8UNnCCo99QRyNCxUvfEO5SwTLE0k_gThDtbVEiZCTJ0GgkkYeLXRjWysD2J2P7-zmwiczXJq5EuJOyIIe52pD7r5QRdXJBPcg/s1600/IMG_6796.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; cssfloat: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="213" kba="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi68xk6xoYjX8FeG_Sc8eHkdjqsLyVfr7LzOruTpPBEtt8UNnCCo99QRyNCxUvfEO5SwTLE0k_gThDtbVEiZCTJ0GgkkYeLXRjWysD2J2P7-zmwiczXJq5EuJOyIIe52pD7r5QRdXJBPcg/s320/IMG_6796.JPG" width="320" /></a></div><div style="font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; line-height: 115%; margin-bottom: 0.35cm;"><span style="background: none transparent scroll repeat 0% 0%;">And last but not least... The Carretera Austral was fabulous for meeting lots of other cycle tourists! There are many people cycling this route, and Jules and I were pretty excited about meeting other cyclists for the first time in a very long time. Unfortunately, sometimes the other cyclists weren't as excited about meeting us! Our first few days meeting other people we would get overly excited and jump up and down while exchanging the general cycling pleasantries. We couldn't work out why they weren't as excited as us - until we also started meeting so many other cyclists, and realised there were lots out there! But we made some great friends, and had some great laughs, and met a couple of super-nice people heading north to Alaska - which made us so excited to think of their amazing trip they have ahead of us.. I tried to convince Jules to turn around and head north back to Alaska, but she wasn't convinced. So for now we continue south, about to cross into Argentina, and the Patagonian pampas of legend!</span></div><div style="font-weight: normal; line-height: 115%; margin-bottom: 0.35cm;"><br />
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</div>Megsy Dhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05298194015249543749noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7058581339878947488.post-40555864122871887672011-12-31T05:38:00.001-08:002012-03-04T22:24:49.361-08:00The Joy of Cycling - the Lakes District of Chile: Chillan - Puerto Montt (7th - 22nd Dec '11)<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhT7GgCgEOVX1mVee43PF3SWyfgS73Gg7r0xe9ddUPc80KJr8AYIBbEnaaTDzPC-mza4IOKy9LjpkLCI1sNCQc0-cKfw48u4N4n1dY46Kn-UIFujRxwn149XL3CsyP0IfmxpzQn6YjP4SM/s1600/IMG_6118.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; cssfloat: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="213" rea="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhT7GgCgEOVX1mVee43PF3SWyfgS73Gg7r0xe9ddUPc80KJr8AYIBbEnaaTDzPC-mza4IOKy9LjpkLCI1sNCQc0-cKfw48u4N4n1dY46Kn-UIFujRxwn149XL3CsyP0IfmxpzQn6YjP4SM/s320/IMG_6118.JPG" width="320" /></a></div><div style="font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; line-height: 115%; margin-bottom: 0.35cm;"><span style="background-attachment: scroll; background-clip: initial; background-color: transparent; background-image: none; background-origin: initial; background-position: 0% 0%; background-repeat: repeat repeat;">I start this blogpost with a little homage to the Wine of Chile. </span></div><div style="font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; line-height: 115%; margin-bottom: 0.35cm;"><span style="background-attachment: scroll; background-clip: initial; background-color: transparent; background-image: none; background-origin: initial; background-position: 0% 0%; background-repeat: repeat repeat;">It is great and cheap and comes in handy boxes. </span></div><div style="font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; line-height: 115%; margin-bottom: 0.35cm;"><span style="background-attachment: scroll; background-clip: initial; background-color: transparent; background-image: none; background-origin: initial; background-position: 0% 0%; background-repeat: repeat repeat;">Now I know drinking wine in a box is very uncouth but Jules and I have to admit that we have been drinking copious wine from cardboard here. It is much easier to carry on the bike and it tastes really good! Though we are not sure if it is just that the Chilean wine is that good, or that our standards have been reduced by our time on the road. Either way, we have gotten quite used to our evening tipple at some beautiful campsite overlooking a lake or river.</span></div><div style="font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; line-height: 115%; margin-bottom: 0.35cm;"><span style="background-attachment: scroll; background-clip: initial; background-color: transparent; background-image: none; background-origin: initial; background-position: 0% 0%; background-repeat: repeat repeat;">Now if that is not enough reason to entice you to come cycling in Chile (and it should be), then images of the Lakes District of central Chile will have to do. </span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjv5XkVo_PxQaGAiwe3Tqpmc1fV6ZCvR6-8MDpCzSkS6kEEVMlJlmaXWC9ohCFnW_Ahmvi8fXZKWiUYpEzSFsYxSYJo7fMGsie53RYw9Lnz7YCG3w3WOwbUVmhyri4qwAcaXyJNkmhYS0o/s1600/IMG_6148.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="179" rea="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjv5XkVo_PxQaGAiwe3Tqpmc1fV6ZCvR6-8MDpCzSkS6kEEVMlJlmaXWC9ohCFnW_Ahmvi8fXZKWiUYpEzSFsYxSYJo7fMGsie53RYw9Lnz7YCG3w3WOwbUVmhyri4qwAcaXyJNkmhYS0o/s320/IMG_6148.JPG" width="320" /></a></div><div style="font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; line-height: 115%; margin-bottom: 0.35cm;"><br />
</div><div style="font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; line-height: 115%; margin-bottom: 0.35cm;"><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhf-TIBQZnWjtavjDqPJutrtmUGBGPBmdMRpONCGM2ott8wKB47f_eBFaT1-0WUW849DcUYa5tHu16GPU7OsQTUX6hTX61ZsQ-CVb0jcy2xLLsTFv7ih5bcsOAsZZOaKe9w1Es9aBijA3Y/s1600/IMG_6099.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; cssfloat: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="213" rea="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhf-TIBQZnWjtavjDqPJutrtmUGBGPBmdMRpONCGM2ott8wKB47f_eBFaT1-0WUW849DcUYa5tHu16GPU7OsQTUX6hTX61ZsQ-CVb0jcy2xLLsTFv7ih5bcsOAsZZOaKe9w1Es9aBijA3Y/s320/IMG_6099.JPG" width="320" /></a></div><span style="background-attachment: scroll; background-clip: initial; background-color: transparent; background-image: none; background-origin: initial; background-position: 0% 0%; background-repeat: repeat repeat;">We spent a few weeks travelling south through this area (encompassing the Araucania and Lakes/Rivers Districts), under perfect blue skies, with cycle-friendly temperatures, staying at amazing campspots, with fantastic views of mountains, snow-capped volcanoes and picture-perfect lakes. And meeting super-friendly people. In this section there are lots of small roads to explore, national parks to meander through and enough little towns to buy the essentials... like handily boxed wine.</span></div><div style="font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; line-height: 115%; margin-bottom: 0.35cm;"><span style="background-attachment: scroll; background-clip: initial; background-color: transparent; background-image: none; background-origin: initial; background-position: 0% 0%; background-repeat: repeat repeat;">Jules and I wandered on a kind of random path through the lakes area – we were originally going to cross into Argentina and head through the lakes district on that side of the Andes but we had heard reports that the ash from the volcanic explosion was still causing problems and we wanted to spend more time in one area rather than just whizzing through. Besides, to be honest, we were having far too much fun in Chile to leave. </span></div><div style="font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; line-height: 115%; margin-bottom: 0.35cm;"><div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgcxPPT2xO_bj5h0vSt0FT_CqaZplzhf-OSFPZAL6KIV84Q1ho08l23D8kuy6nij1ztMqBtaYaTopC1Xfn-vaEory9SB3VtoW5qrFzk1Hw6VmIiTwJ2fMfs_zHspK3Htsaj4RUKlIufUY0/s1600/IMG_6151.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; cssfloat: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="179" rea="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgcxPPT2xO_bj5h0vSt0FT_CqaZplzhf-OSFPZAL6KIV84Q1ho08l23D8kuy6nij1ztMqBtaYaTopC1Xfn-vaEory9SB3VtoW5qrFzk1Hw6VmIiTwJ2fMfs_zHspK3Htsaj4RUKlIufUY0/s320/IMG_6151.JPG" width="320" /></a><span style="background-attachment: scroll; background-clip: initial; background-color: transparent; background-image: none; background-origin: initial; background-position: 0% 0%; background-repeat: repeat repeat;">We had thought up a sort of general route through the back roads of the Chilean Araucanian and Lakes district, but this changed every day, and sometimes even hourly if a local happened to recommend a potential route to us. Our wanderings through the lakes district took us to hotsprings, past a number of volcanoes, up through forests of the unusual Monkey Puzzle trees, over lava fields, alongside numerous lakes and to old German settlements.</span></div></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgr_LBG8VDemnnwlarQKLccgcKv8g95DElVubp5d5QYb4fueFK9u4gzGrOZk-kP5XNba67tGjc7lolKIJD3t7MA0NBfMpjjxvJaPNm1m_cD8ZxFAmhqnP4WsavnaEvyZWWyfd_9Av6nIbo/s1600/IMG_6069.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; cssfloat: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" rea="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgr_LBG8VDemnnwlarQKLccgcKv8g95DElVubp5d5QYb4fueFK9u4gzGrOZk-kP5XNba67tGjc7lolKIJD3t7MA0NBfMpjjxvJaPNm1m_cD8ZxFAmhqnP4WsavnaEvyZWWyfd_9Av6nIbo/s320/IMG_6069.JPG" width="179" /></a></div><div style="font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; line-height: 115%; margin-bottom: 0.35cm;"><div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;"><span style="background-attachment: scroll; background-clip: initial; background-color: transparent; background-image: none; background-origin: initial; background-position: 0% 0%; background-repeat: repeat repeat;">One of our most enjoyable sections was the River Biobio valley. Generally its a bad idea if the area you are heading into does not have any roads leading out of it, but this didn't stop us deciding to explore the River BioBio. We had read about a cyclist that had passed this way and then used a horse-trail to connect to roads further south and we decided that it sounded suitably foolish enough for us to attempt. When we reached the end of the valley, and with a bit of local advice, we found a foot trail down to the river, then a narrow pedestrian bridge over the river,and a very steep and rocky horse track up from the bridge that we had to two-man push our bikes up in stages. The horse-trail then widened slightly and we could ride sections of it but overall the next 7kms involved a lot of pushing - up to the top of a little pass. We then crossed down into another river valley where we found a 4wd track and eventually connected up with a gravel road. Not our easist of routes but definitely one of our favourites. We had found ourselves in an area with no road connections, only forests and farms and views of the surrounding snow-capped volcanoes, lakes and creeks. </span></div></div><div style="font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; line-height: 115%; margin-bottom: 0.35cm;"><span style="background-attachment: scroll; background-clip: initial; background-color: transparent; background-image: none; background-origin: initial; background-position: 0% 0%; background-repeat: repeat repeat;">Our progress through the lakes area was mainly influ<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgzuzbtCdIMl_26sUXp2arpzPmLn8JREedljOnJ0hShimMYAefn0t-4MzGq4KILB-aWrU4dcb5PY2oVC7Z-ETzuDrR3z4dHEDTrmAM4RM8HvqKnOPLqcP0LP8_B3LUAiGZXN_GprQsL5yc/s1600/IMG_6095.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; cssfloat: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="213" rea="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgzuzbtCdIMl_26sUXp2arpzPmLn8JREedljOnJ0hShimMYAefn0t-4MzGq4KILB-aWrU4dcb5PY2oVC7Z-ETzuDrR3z4dHEDTrmAM4RM8HvqKnOPLqcP0LP8_B3LUAiGZXN_GprQsL5yc/s320/IMG_6095.JPG" width="320" /></a>enced by the fantastic campspots that we found. Almost every night we were camped either beside a picturesque river or a lake and we often gave up on a day`s planned ride when an opportunity to contemplate life beside a river presented itself. Usually we asked the locals where we could camp and they would point us in the direction of some great spots. Lots of the little towns had either a farmers field or a spot next to the river where the locals camped, and sometimes people would open up their gate for us and direct us to a fantastic river/lake frontage, often complete with a picnic table!</span></div><div style="font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; line-height: 115%; margin-bottom: 0.35cm;"><div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi-Yahwa5x_0PB1XAJ9WtTnr4GESNbNJkiAieC_10BMi8oBJEPkADXUMTRJ_y5Q86PmCwRPIDwhBz1QKPzteXr2X_Th0Q5isudRNQ5mHFayevILOxb7LgQdPE3UsPgmmw6XWGcpNPYXXJc/s1600/IMG_6122.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; cssfloat: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="179" rea="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi-Yahwa5x_0PB1XAJ9WtTnr4GESNbNJkiAieC_10BMi8oBJEPkADXUMTRJ_y5Q86PmCwRPIDwhBz1QKPzteXr2X_Th0Q5isudRNQ5mHFayevILOxb7LgQdPE3UsPgmmw6XWGcpNPYXXJc/s320/IMG_6122.JPG" width="320" /></a><span style="background-attachment: scroll; background-clip: initial; background-color: transparent; background-image: none; background-origin: initial; background-position: 0% 0%; background-repeat: repeat repeat;">Now I know this blogpost has been a little bit gushy and crammed full of superlatives, but I just can`t help myself. Jules and I floated through the lakes district on a little cloud of cycling (and wine) happiness. We luxuriated in fields of daisies, in the hues of roadside lupins, and the beauty of the climbing wildroses alongside the road. It would have been too good to be true, except these gasp-worthy scenes of Spring flowering also helped induce terrible attacks of allergies. So I was riding past stunning vistas with a continually running nose, itchy red skin, and swollen puffy eyes. Just to bring me back down to earth.</span></div></div><div style="font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; line-height: 115%; margin-bottom: 0.35cm;"><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhW1hq6ADhW6TwzHCLbaolHY_uBB4khfy2V1BBK2YZ5MH0P_jh-SJftPO2w-aZmGe3jRmvIr3Sny0uMNoVVJ33D_mSD7CQD0xPaEI5PlyEcUvgAYOCgCq78yxssAZrHUQf9h-RlemZwdwI/s1600/IMG_6184.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; cssfloat: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="179" rea="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhW1hq6ADhW6TwzHCLbaolHY_uBB4khfy2V1BBK2YZ5MH0P_jh-SJftPO2w-aZmGe3jRmvIr3Sny0uMNoVVJ33D_mSD7CQD0xPaEI5PlyEcUvgAYOCgCq78yxssAZrHUQf9h-RlemZwdwI/s320/IMG_6184.JPG" width="320" /></a></div><div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;"><span style="background-attachment: scroll; background-clip: initial; background-color: transparent; background-image: none; background-origin: initial; background-position: 0% 0%; background-repeat: repeat repeat;">The sublime weather came to an end as we arrived in the southern reaches of the lakes district, and we received a healthy dose of rain. Our first spot of bad weather for a very very long time...and a good chance to hide up in the touristy town of Puerto Varas to work out the next part of our trip – heading south into Patagonia.</span></div></div><div style="font-weight: normal; line-height: 115%; margin-bottom: 0.35cm;"><div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;"><br />
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<div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjPLozyVE78RXvZEFokLllDTn-KdBwoiiObmTMZVfjm0ojS_Mli5NKLSHVnftItKbFxO7ZCyIOrDEaurJ-SEqmXK2Y4SZ5GDq48V0ii7DWfzNkGkJB1LzliOWu83aFnBnZ8PPHbzcpzJLs/s1600/IMG_6112.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; cssfloat: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="213" rea="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjPLozyVE78RXvZEFokLllDTn-KdBwoiiObmTMZVfjm0ojS_Mli5NKLSHVnftItKbFxO7ZCyIOrDEaurJ-SEqmXK2Y4SZ5GDq48V0ii7DWfzNkGkJB1LzliOWu83aFnBnZ8PPHbzcpzJLs/s320/IMG_6112.JPG" style="cursor: move;" unselectable="on" width="320" /></a><i><span style="background-attachment: scroll; background-clip: initial; background-color: transparent; background-image: none; background-origin: initial; background-position: 0% 0%; background-repeat: repeat repeat; font-size: x-small;">Notes for cyclists.</span></i></div></div></div><div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none; font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; line-height: 115%; margin-bottom: 0.35cm;"><div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;"><span style="background-attachment: scroll; background-clip: initial; background-color: transparent; background-image: none; background-origin: initial; background-position: 0% 0%; background-repeat: repeat repeat; font-size: x-small;">Some people are under the impression that you have to stick to the main highway in Chile, but it is quite possible to travel all the way through this section using smaller roads and backroads. It involves a lot of zigzagging, but it is worth it to avoid the Panam and enjoy the countryside. Just get a good map and connect up the roads!</span></div></div><div style="font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; line-height: 115%; margin-bottom: 0.35cm;"><span style="background-attachment: scroll; background-clip: initial; background-color: transparent; background-image: none; background-origin: initial; background-position: 0% 0%; background-repeat: repeat repeat; font-size: x-small;">We left the Panam at Chillan and headed south through Pemuco, Yungay and Quilleco – this is all on asphalt. There is a great municipal campsite at Yungay – just before you get into town as you head over a bridge. It is on the east side of the road, right next to the river. Very pretty camping spot with picnic tables– no-one there when we were there (except the family that caretake it). And free!</span></div><div style="font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; line-height: 115%; margin-bottom: 0.35cm;"><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhEKl1OX-bG-gzwArumiHd2x8Y258ffRhtcgNfkT6Km7D2kNLLB63i6qt3sw8a2b-xXP1krzW4ZSq7WDBNkQ7L80wYbtzBhchACIU3TGFnqy05T8ZgjdTuTvfkfNzt3EwhfooRnlO1O57A/s1600/IMG_6111.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; cssfloat: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="213" rea="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhEKl1OX-bG-gzwArumiHd2x8Y258ffRhtcgNfkT6Km7D2kNLLB63i6qt3sw8a2b-xXP1krzW4ZSq7WDBNkQ7L80wYbtzBhchACIU3TGFnqy05T8ZgjdTuTvfkfNzt3EwhfooRnlO1O57A/s320/IMG_6111.JPG" width="320" /></a></div><span style="background-attachment: scroll; background-clip: initial; background-color: transparent; background-image: none; background-origin: initial; background-position: 0% 0%; background-repeat: repeat repeat; font-size: x-small;">Then there is a ripio road through plantations from Quilleco in the direction of Santa Barbara. At one point on this road you will get to a junction, next to a river. East leads to Villucura and west to an asphalt road, you can go either direction and get to Santa Barbara. We went against the locals advice and went east but after only a couple of kms we turned off on a small road leading to "Corovaca" (or something similar starting with a C!). We didn't know whether it connected through but it went up through some plantations on some steep rough roads, nice riding, and eventually we managed to connect through to Santa Barbara.</span><br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjKGI66Iw34IRZNq9XMPW-o3a4uk1nxYrYEmatEQfqHnB-yYbgbom6ft3ZzGplZiFVWjRchpSKVSDvx0xIgicSsdMdChC9GpFz5jcHoIieSwP_o_DvvCq7Zkb0ijHDEy-rY6Ql6qbNKJdg/s1600/IMG_6037.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; cssfloat: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" rea="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjKGI66Iw34IRZNq9XMPW-o3a4uk1nxYrYEmatEQfqHnB-yYbgbom6ft3ZzGplZiFVWjRchpSKVSDvx0xIgicSsdMdChC9GpFz5jcHoIieSwP_o_DvvCq7Zkb0ijHDEy-rY6Ql6qbNKJdg/s320/IMG_6037.JPG" width="179" /></a></div><span style="font-size: x-small;">F<span style="background-attachment: scroll; background-clip: initial; background-color: transparent; background-image: none; background-origin: initial; background-position: 0% 0%; background-repeat: repeat repeat;">rom Santa Barbara we headed east through the River Biobio valley, which is asphalt until Ralco and then it becomes ripio (and there are some nice steep climbs in this area). Good wild camping opportunities along this section to Leroy Ralco, but if like us you are tempted by thermal springs at the end of a hard day's riding, you can camp at the "Termas del Avellano".. 3500 for the Springs and camping.</span></span></div><div style="font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; line-height: 115%; margin-bottom: 0.35cm;"><div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;"><span style="background-attachment: scroll; background-clip: initial; background-color: transparent; background-image: none; background-origin: initial; background-position: 0% 0%; background-repeat: repeat repeat; font-size: x-small;">The tourist office in Ralco told us there was a new bridge across the river that would connect up to roads further south but none of the other locals knew about this! When we arrived in Leroy Ralco, towards the end of the lake, </span><span style="background-attachment: scroll; background-clip: initial; background-color: transparent; background-image: none; background-origin: initial; background-position: 0% 0%; background-repeat: repeat repeat; font-size: x-small;"> we asked around and got pointed in the direction of a pedestrian bridge over the river. We had to push the bikes down a foot path to the bridge, then 2-man push the bikes back up on the other side (steep rocky trail</span><span style="background-attachment: scroll; background-clip: initial; background-color: transparent; background-image: none; background-origin: initial; background-position: 0% 0%; background-repeat: repeat repeat; font-size: x-small;">!) for a few hundred metres (it felt like forever) to connect up with a slightly wider horse trail. This trail is partly rideable but most of it was too steep and rocky for us to ride and we ended up pushing most of the 7km up and over the pass. Ask the locals in Leroy Ralco about the trails, they are over private land so we asked permission from a couple of people (hopefully the right ones) as well. At one point the trail forks into two – the right hand starts going up more steeply and this is the fork you want. The left fork goes towards some poplars,and a farmhouse (really nice family, I asked them if we could pass through their farm and they showed me the right way). Once over the pass the trail gets a little wider and eventually becomes more of a 4wd track, and then eventually turns into a gravel road (through a gate) and finally you join up with an actual road that was marked on our map. We went left towardsTroyo (friendly town, with a great farmer's field to camp in next to the river). It was about 21kms from the top of the pass to Troyo, the first section all down but most up and down along the river.</span></div></div><div style="font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; line-height: 115%; margin-bottom: 0.35cm;"><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjjBsss38cplqJHYrSbl4eJ90RbBu4j9UbDnHd1JiGNsneIIwKDwTtdjx3p8M6_q49nvJ-My2GLC_zab1_MdC-3VfoUzc5AV2C8-W8Vvk9OuXCeymghk6RDLtIsAVmnrbXWzB8Ta4kqSfg/s1600/IMG_6071.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; cssfloat: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="179" rea="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjjBsss38cplqJHYrSbl4eJ90RbBu4j9UbDnHd1JiGNsneIIwKDwTtdjx3p8M6_q49nvJ-My2GLC_zab1_MdC-3VfoUzc5AV2C8-W8Vvk9OuXCeymghk6RDLtIsAVmnrbXWzB8Ta4kqSfg/s320/IMG_6071.JPG" width="320" /></a></div><div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;"><span style="background-attachment: scroll; background-clip: initial; background-color: transparent; background-image: none; background-origin: initial; background-position: 0% 0%; background-repeat: repeat repeat; font-size: x-small;">We then headed towards Lonquimay, then Liucura (pretty and easy riding) and then back to Curacautin (where we had to get something fixed on the bike). After Curacautin we went up through the Conguillo National Park, which was a great ride!. The first 10kms from Conguillo was asphalt and then it turns to ripio, and the ripio gets rougher the closer to you get to the park. It is 4000 pesos to enter the park, and it is a really pretty ride up through the Monkey Puzzle trees, nice lake – the road includes ripio, sand, washboard.. it has it all! The camping in the park is really expensive but the park rangers told us to camp at the southern entrance station, which was a good little spot, we spent al day in the park and then headed out at the end of the day.</span></div></div><div style="font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; line-height: 115%; margin-bottom: 0.35cm;"><div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;"><div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhBopUlRUAirlyo8v95eLKIIf2zKs2EEjjdPC4l22VvljWwq4oqiN6JAYHerLCvN1w9sOOykJ4HNfUtCfxH8Bl9oX0-5hIMlNC3vW_5fsbG_bKFG9QHMIh8pqu6ZlKul_SLdfMCuEjJkWk/s1600/IMG_6149.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; cssfloat: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" rea="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhBopUlRUAirlyo8v95eLKIIf2zKs2EEjjdPC4l22VvljWwq4oqiN6JAYHerLCvN1w9sOOykJ4HNfUtCfxH8Bl9oX0-5hIMlNC3vW_5fsbG_bKFG9QHMIh8pqu6ZlKul_SLdfMCuEjJkWk/s320/IMG_6149.JPG" width="179" /></a><span style="background-attachment: scroll; background-clip: initial; background-color: transparent; background-image: none; background-origin: initial; background-position: 0% 0%; background-repeat: repeat repeat; font-size: x-small;">Asphalt, quick riding Melipeuco to Cunco. Then we turned onto the “Interlagos” Route – where we got a little lost and when a long way but ended up on a hilly ripio ride over to Villarrica. Villarrica was the most touristy area that we went through.</span></div></div></div><div style="font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; line-height: 115%; margin-bottom: 0.35cm;"><div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;"><div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;"><div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;"><span style="background-attachment: scroll; background-clip: initial; background-color: transparent; background-image: none; background-origin: initial; background-position: 0% 0%; background-repeat: repeat repeat; font-size: x-small;">We then connected south past Lican Ray and Panguipuilli. Then we headed towards Los Lagos which was a pretty quiet road. We were on the Panam for about half a day, then went along the road to Lago llanquihue. We really enjoyed the section after La Cascada which goes through the national park at the base of Volcan Osorno. Then nice, easy (but still hilly – no flat riding along lakes in the Lakes District!) along the other lake shore into Puerto Varas.</span><br />
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<span style="background-attachment: scroll; background-clip: initial; background-color: transparent; background-image: none; background-origin: initial; background-position: 0% 0%; background-repeat: repeat repeat; font-size: x-small;">** Great bicycle shop in Puerto Montt - Oxford Bikes, very helpful staff</span></div></div></div></div><img height="64" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjPLozyVE78RXvZEFokLllDTn-KdBwoiiObmTMZVfjm0ojS_Mli5NKLSHVnftItKbFxO7ZCyIOrDEaurJ-SEqmXK2Y4SZ5GDq48V0ii7DWfzNkGkJB1LzliOWu83aFnBnZ8PPHbzcpzJLs/s320/IMG_6112.JPG" style="filter: alpha(opacity=30); left: 62px; mozopacity: 0.3; opacity: 0.3; position: absolute; top: 2152px; visibility: hidden;" width="96" />Megsy Dhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05298194015249543749noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7058581339878947488.post-27803775627461557952011-12-16T04:32:00.000-08:002012-03-04T22:24:49.362-08:00Desert, beaches, wind (it's just like home!) Northern and Central Chile: San Pedro – Chillan (14th Nov - 6th Dec '11)<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhResgBwv2OTgp2mTUkk0TwWnwo7LCD-SZHLrpq9RCAPtqX8cb8yimvVgsSAMVUE2WkqgBND311bm5mLvreMfnM7frujcg2H_kN3B-NyEobTzzfGDwNrqmJIaYEN6AmF8AYvtcH_vfO9SU/s1600/IMG_5853.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; cssfloat: left; cssfloat: right; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="213" oda="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhResgBwv2OTgp2mTUkk0TwWnwo7LCD-SZHLrpq9RCAPtqX8cb8yimvVgsSAMVUE2WkqgBND311bm5mLvreMfnM7frujcg2H_kN3B-NyEobTzzfGDwNrqmJIaYEN6AmF8AYvtcH_vfO9SU/s320/IMG_5853.JPG" width="320" /></a></div><div style="font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; line-height: 115%; margin-bottom: 0.35cm;"><div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;"><span style="background: none transparent scroll repeat 0% 0%;">When we first arrived in Chile we spent a few days resting up in the adobe-walled, tourist hotspot of San Pedro de Atacama. However, after a pancake-eating orgy it was time to board the bikes and head south and west, through the Atamaca Desert. Chile is a very long country, more than 5000km long, and in its northern reaches is the Atacama desert, the driest desert in the world. Supposedly this desert is so dry and devoid of life that NASA come out here to check their life-finding technology. We could certainly see why as we rode through landscapes of empty sand with no signs of life at all. This bleak landscape was accompanied by strong winds and lots of mining traffic. Urgh.</span></div></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgCS6EgkFnoGmcEjmwrnp1go17B420eNk33w6cKi3xgC6JfZn61oVt0jmo6KyjioVXe8ImFFnez7kepfp2tKssieAkvZQuteCvJ009gcTZB9R0g3vbr33KijxwGhgyfTwSwyTOnyxV7Z6k/s1600/IMG_5855.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; cssfloat: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="213" oda="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgCS6EgkFnoGmcEjmwrnp1go17B420eNk33w6cKi3xgC6JfZn61oVt0jmo6KyjioVXe8ImFFnez7kepfp2tKssieAkvZQuteCvJ009gcTZB9R0g3vbr33KijxwGhgyfTwSwyTOnyxV7Z6k/s320/IMG_5855.JPG" width="320" /></a></div><div style="font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; line-height: 115%; margin-bottom: 0.35cm;"><span style="background: none transparent scroll repeat 0% 0%;">Thankfully after a couple of days spent looking at sand we could turn-off the Panam highway a little way after La Negra and take a nice quiet backroad towards the coast at Papusa. This involved a bit of a climb over the coastal mountain range and it was still through the desert, but at least it had some changes in topography to give us something to look at other than sand. We rode with Karin and Martin again through this section and we shared some lovely desert campspots and some good laughs.</span></div><div style="font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; line-height: 115%; margin-bottom: 0.35cm;"><span style="background: none transparent scroll repeat 0% 0%;">We had a great ride down from the desert towards the beach at Papusa, where we dropped out of the mountains and down to the vegetated coast. It was wonderful to see some plants again, to enjoy the colours and to have smells to smell. </span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjF8IQ1WY_LRbQgWhj1wmrmPHvyXpwc0lXio99iZL51ieW5iUPzNHv_Tdf69dxsqaEy5A2HazQNJWcDRpQX9fDJ_TLZANs67mGXgsdH0wmMrQ22NKYndsNZHYk28DWG3b-RJSJy8Glof-o/s1600/IMG_5856.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; cssfloat: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="213" oda="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjF8IQ1WY_LRbQgWhj1wmrmPHvyXpwc0lXio99iZL51ieW5iUPzNHv_Tdf69dxsqaEy5A2HazQNJWcDRpQX9fDJ_TLZANs67mGXgsdH0wmMrQ22NKYndsNZHYk28DWG3b-RJSJy8Glof-o/s320/IMG_5856.JPG" width="320" /></a></div><div style="font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; line-height: 115%; margin-bottom: 0.35cm;"><span style="background: none transparent scroll repeat 0% 0%;">After the desert the coast was sensory overload. We moseyed along the coastline for a couple of days, enjoying the sights, before we had to head back to the desert. Along the way we had great beach campsites, fresh fish caught by the local fisherman and cooked up by Karin, friendly fishing villages and the joy of seafood empanadas. We cleverly managed to time Jules birthday to coincide with a couple of days spent next to the beach in the great little town of Taltal - luckily for me as otherwise it would have been her second birthday in a row in a desert! Birthday celebrations included sunset beers, yummy seafood meals, and good company with Karin and Martin.</span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh07IbEC4i1hyuxlSCHLfuLPNIxWFnmP_uVGStS3a57ltV5qM5ky1ipXPtkOS9JEYS4Ra6P2FrpxZzC20vfbd0r6CRNdNziM8vtzZnMdkdsATv_MDDsNqV5EPMm_X_jlkCELLJQAKJ3-p0/s1600/IMG_5893.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; cssfloat: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="179" oda="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh07IbEC4i1hyuxlSCHLfuLPNIxWFnmP_uVGStS3a57ltV5qM5ky1ipXPtkOS9JEYS4Ra6P2FrpxZzC20vfbd0r6CRNdNziM8vtzZnMdkdsATv_MDDsNqV5EPMm_X_jlkCELLJQAKJ3-p0/s320/IMG_5893.JPG" width="320" /></a></div><div style="font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; line-height: 115%; margin-bottom: 0.35cm;"><div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;"><span style="background: none transparent scroll repeat 0% 0%;">When we left Taltal and headed south, back on the Panam, we were back to the dry desert. However, as we headed south we slowly started to see the changes in the make-up of the desert, and it became more and more vegetated the further south we went. This area is known as the “Flowering Desert” as occasionally after a big year of winter rainfall the desert is transformed into a carpet of flowers. We were lucky enough to hit one of these years and it was pretty to see. The road also passed close to the coast in some sections so we had some more beach camping time, but we decided not to spend too much in this section as we were keen to get to the southern reaches of Chile. So besides a trip into the Pan de Azucar National Park, and some rest time in the colonial town of La Serena we pretty much beelined for Valparaiso. </span></div></div><div style="font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; line-height: 115%; margin-bottom: 0.35cm;"><div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj28A7KqfYkMUsQTBOOykvfwPUEeLdZuswTNzi57toQ-3CJA_oLrMjpNbj3Hgryn8cEL5cuINvrHBKoK4bSqsB1JoQa1tsJ8gc9p9NljAXeBhAjXiW-TrrWNSXgL7SdLDxaHzzakNQ8ueY/s1600/IMG_5963.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; cssfloat: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" oda="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj28A7KqfYkMUsQTBOOykvfwPUEeLdZuswTNzi57toQ-3CJA_oLrMjpNbj3Hgryn8cEL5cuINvrHBKoK4bSqsB1JoQa1tsJ8gc9p9NljAXeBhAjXiW-TrrWNSXgL7SdLDxaHzzakNQ8ueY/s320/IMG_5963.JPG" width="320" /></a><span style="background: none transparent scroll repeat 0% 0%;">Valparaiso is a great little city. It is the old port of Chile, with lots of history, fantastic street graffiti and ridiculously steep hills. Known as the San Fran of Chile, it is a muddle of steep hills and stairs up and down the Cerros, houses perched seemingly on top of one another, and little nooks and crannies to explore. Valpo is also dirty and chaotic and we fitted right in. It was one of my favourite cities that I have been to, though trying to get the bikes up and down the hills was less enjoyable!</span></div></div><div style="font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; line-height: 115%; margin-bottom: 0.35cm;"><div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;"><span style="background: none transparent scroll repeat 0% 0%;">After finally finding our way out of the steep jumbled streets of Valparaiso we headed south along quiet country roads through forests and past little settlements – very different from our riding in the tree-less, people-less Northern Chile. We went first along the coast and then inland through the farming and wine areas, which meant lots of fruits stands that we could gorge out on yummy fresh and cheap fruit along the way. Cherries and stonefruit are cheap in Chile and we proceeded to stuff our faces with as many as we could carry.</span></div></div><div style="font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; line-height: 115%; margin-bottom: 0.35cm;"><div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEicusmUIe7wJ-LHxMXnSXH50C4KORaTIvLabw-ZGx_b2WDuJdozDOLkFskgsKOmGn61X5Roth-HTZe4HH6RLEtNCB0WrGk3JoSjsZE0UDbDRvUniyh6r6weyTdOtJiAsj611q4ZJq9ZOJw/s1600/IMG_5880.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; cssfloat: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="179" oda="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEicusmUIe7wJ-LHxMXnSXH50C4KORaTIvLabw-ZGx_b2WDuJdozDOLkFskgsKOmGn61X5Roth-HTZe4HH6RLEtNCB0WrGk3JoSjsZE0UDbDRvUniyh6r6weyTdOtJiAsj611q4ZJq9ZOJw/s320/IMG_5880.JPG" width="320" /></a><span style="background: none transparent scroll repeat 0% 0%;">We were very happy to get to the cheap fruit and veggie area because when we first arrived from Bolivia, the cost of things in Chile was definitely a shock to the system. Where we first came into Chile in the north of the country the prices were ludicrously high because of the remoteness of the area, and the effect of mining on the prices. As we headed south things got a little cheaper, though it was still more expensive than the rest of South America.</span></div></div><div style="font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; line-height: 115%; margin-bottom: 0.35cm;"><div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjjG3AOb6BleVvmG3S6GJhWKKTg74dztoWJpIA1n2Okz9y_yl8u3QD6u-xbCOUXIPo178Y2mWjbeso3EkSfXV7O-hC_rjv6WEXEoYRmYSkEgZ26-hUg5SLdczWIegmAh6_oTYQ5njZx7g4/s1600/IMG_5912.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; cssfloat: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="179" oda="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjjG3AOb6BleVvmG3S6GJhWKKTg74dztoWJpIA1n2Okz9y_yl8u3QD6u-xbCOUXIPo178Y2mWjbeso3EkSfXV7O-hC_rjv6WEXEoYRmYSkEgZ26-hUg5SLdczWIegmAh6_oTYQ5njZx7g4/s320/IMG_5912.JPG" width="320" /></a><span style="background: none transparent scroll repeat 0% 0%;">Chile was also a culture shock as it is very developed and it was like being back in Canada or the US with big roads, mega-supermarkets and well-organised cities and town. Suffering culture-shock, I had a little anxiety attack in one of our first mega-supermarkets- it was so big, there were lots of people around and there was way to much choice in the biscuit aisle for me to deal with. Thankfully we could ease our way back into the developed world by arriving in the north of Chile where it is still fairly remote and underdeveloped. In the north there were still shacks made of clapboards and tin, people still herded goats and no-one looked at us too strangely when we asked to pitch our tent in random spots. </span></div></div><div style="font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; line-height: 115%; margin-bottom: 0.35cm;"><div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;"><span style="background: none transparent scroll repeat 0% 0%;">The further south we got the more developed areas became. I almost fell off my bike the first time that we rounded a quiet desert corner and came across a major condominium development on the beach. However, by the time we got down to the mega-resorts of Vina del Mar we were getting used to the glitz, though we looked completely out of place with our dirty, ripped clothes. </span></div></div><div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none; font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; line-height: 115%; margin-bottom: 0.35cm;"><div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhwdUM_gFc_fgdAJSSzdeFTt2leja5fjl5oDFCx9TaDCW7VVCoKqyO-n8SavLuh5zNzAyE4R0dFzhqLsqZxBV2LIV-5dURsL1EV7f3s9GBcR6n2iFu6lssmym8FivoYxu4hVY2-9TBRe6M/s1600/IMG_5898.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; cssfloat: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="213" oda="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhwdUM_gFc_fgdAJSSzdeFTt2leja5fjl5oDFCx9TaDCW7VVCoKqyO-n8SavLuh5zNzAyE4R0dFzhqLsqZxBV2LIV-5dURsL1EV7f3s9GBcR6n2iFu6lssmym8FivoYxu4hVY2-9TBRe6M/s320/IMG_5898.JPG" style="cursor: move;" unselectable="on" width="320" /></a><span style="background: none transparent scroll repeat 0% 0%;">The other thing that makes Chile standout from the last few countries that we have travelled through is the attitude of the dogs. In Peru and Bolivia the dogs hate cyclists and appear to want to bite our legs off. They chase us with rage in the eyes and froth in their mouth. However, in Chile our major problem has been trying to stop dogs loving us and following us adoringly down the road. A number of times dogs followed us out of a town and into the desert,happily running alongside our bicycles. We did everything we could to make them stop or turn back but not long after they would reappear, showering us with love and completely oblivious to our attempts to send them home. In one desert camp-spot a dog stood guard over our tent all night and then tried to come with us the next morning. </span></div></div><div style="font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; line-height: 115%; margin-bottom: 0.35cm;"><div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi8nU5oiCpd_ie7dM6IP76tVmZEg2kpXRfbT1euUHBkNfSCf_HwNLTUqBRqVeot-VPxlj6wcgqk4jhr4LnUy2lnb0EPcAIMy41skE2_uf-UvgtR43sbcIfOxGmEIEe22Yrvqozenof0Q3M/s1600/IMG_5954.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; cssfloat: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" oda="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi8nU5oiCpd_ie7dM6IP76tVmZEg2kpXRfbT1euUHBkNfSCf_HwNLTUqBRqVeot-VPxlj6wcgqk4jhr4LnUy2lnb0EPcAIMy41skE2_uf-UvgtR43sbcIfOxGmEIEe22Yrvqozenof0Q3M/s320/IMG_5954.JPG" width="320" /></a><span style="background: none transparent scroll repeat 0% 0%;">Even when we walked around the streets of Valparaiso a dog adopted us and followed us everywhere, including into shops, and if he wasn't allowed inside he would wait patiently outside for us. It got a bit ridiculous, with us trying to run away from him and then him happily finding us “hey you guys, where you been?”. I'm not sure where our dog magnetism has appeared from, maybe its because we smell so much? But every time we have to lose one of our adoring followers it breaks my heart.</span></div></div><div style="font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; line-height: 115%; margin-bottom: 0.35cm;"><br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh43gQo0N5sOJqEzJrJ0MOoWmiBzD8TTGXr34piQ-x9-zlWuI8myMaW6bGdEBO-9dff1dkoc6CpbI3ePLCL0gug8V4Z0QLzrgSYFZdKKy_vAAEmctLTkRwVXMO0DD-Ms3GMp6ThQuzT4_k/s1600/IMG_5916.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; cssfloat: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" oda="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh43gQo0N5sOJqEzJrJ0MOoWmiBzD8TTGXr34piQ-x9-zlWuI8myMaW6bGdEBO-9dff1dkoc6CpbI3ePLCL0gug8V4Z0QLzrgSYFZdKKy_vAAEmctLTkRwVXMO0DD-Ms3GMp6ThQuzT4_k/s320/IMG_5916.JPG" width="179" /></a></div><span style="background: none transparent scroll repeat 0% 0%;">The friendly nature of the dogs here is only surpassed by the Chileans themselves. The big-heartedness of the locals meant that we actually enjoyed, to some extent, the riding on the main highway in the north of the country (after Taltal). Normally we avoid the busy highways if we can but in Northern Chile everybody that passed us was so friendly and gave us lots of waves and toots and big thumbs up. One night camped in a roadside stop we got talking to a very enthusiastic trucker who invited us to his birthday party, and then the next few days any of the trucks that passed us from the same company gave us big cheers and encouragement - our friend must have told all his mates about us. </span></div><div style="font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; line-height: 115%; margin-bottom: 0.35cm;"><span style="background: none transparent scroll repeat 0% 0%;">One night in the desert we camped next to the house of a lovely old lady who lived by herself, and talked to her animals. We won her over with some chocolate and when we went to bed in our tent she came over to tuck us in with an extra coat, some blankets to put over our bags, a bit of twine she used to tie our tent down and a safety pin to put in the tent door. It was all a little random but very sweet!</span></div><div style="font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; line-height: 115%; margin-bottom: 0.35cm;"><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhWs6l4gN9zK4ArLtAd2ON8alQrkCe7xHf4mz9nGI9giJa5ecJ7NopC5OUEavSu5UiHJsb2PAl67jaP9tfGxMzroqcMnZ3uLSQfjGnxC3bkBkW-n2arjJocVwtLPJoeu6ImwViGPFbp3Hc/s1600/IMG_5988.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; cssfloat: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="213" oda="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhWs6l4gN9zK4ArLtAd2ON8alQrkCe7xHf4mz9nGI9giJa5ecJ7NopC5OUEavSu5UiHJsb2PAl67jaP9tfGxMzroqcMnZ3uLSQfjGnxC3bkBkW-n2arjJocVwtLPJoeu6ImwViGPFbp3Hc/s320/IMG_5988.JPG" width="320" /></a></div><div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;"><span style="background: none transparent scroll repeat 0% 0%;">Not far out of Santa Cruz we met the most big-hearted family yet. Alejandra and her mum and dad ran a little grocery store and gave us permission to camp on the open ground next door; however, this somehow turned into inviting us into their home, feeding us and providing us with a hot shower and a bed for the night. A really awesome family and so generous to us. </span></div></div><div style="font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; line-height: 115%; margin-bottom: 0.35cm;"><span style="background: none transparent scroll repeat 0% 0%;">Unfortunately my Spanish has been letting me down in Chile. I really want to converse properly with all the wonderful Chileans we have met, but I actually feel like my Spanish has gotten worse! I find the Chilean Spanish very different from what I am used to, and most of it is very fast with lots of slang and different words. Thankfully some people slow it down for me and speak to me like I am a child and with lots of hand signals, and in this way we get by.</span></div><div style="font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; line-height: 115%; margin-bottom: 0.35cm;"><div class="separator" style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none; clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjxVgnCWxoRAR4PqEF2MEQd-siNUjW2O5Nr9xaN8kaL9gTIVovqCfhwH-CGBmptGwxLf2cqWQuNaRjoLWug6lUW0tCWj0g82KGnWNTgHWSRrKITnu2PtfpQhddJAGH9y2dzFDyfIevAbXo/s1600/IMG_5975.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; cssfloat: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="179" oda="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjxVgnCWxoRAR4PqEF2MEQd-siNUjW2O5Nr9xaN8kaL9gTIVovqCfhwH-CGBmptGwxLf2cqWQuNaRjoLWug6lUW0tCWj0g82KGnWNTgHWSRrKITnu2PtfpQhddJAGH9y2dzFDyfIevAbXo/s320/IMG_5975.JPG" width="320" /></a></div><div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;"><span style="background: none transparent scroll repeat 0% 0%;">We finished up the Northern and Central section of Chile with a quick couple of days riding on the Panamerican Highway, zooming along south in order to get down to the Lakes Area. There are lots more beautiful places to explore in this very varied country! Next stop: volcanoes, lakes, mountains and even more good Chilean wine.</span></div></div><div style="font-weight: normal; line-height: 115%; margin-bottom: 0.35cm;"><br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjkR433VRPisxmAgs7W6LvqGOBB7hBBdLiPzWcXuJvqU6565GEJuVCk7A7ibjjKOuWq5X7af7wMN5RGGvKjyefVshdHURWvcWgKlhVSpPb_LolizrqYrjBoselRGEN2J4lHyzm40FAm4vU/s1600/IMG_5957.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; cssfloat: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" oda="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjkR433VRPisxmAgs7W6LvqGOBB7hBBdLiPzWcXuJvqU6565GEJuVCk7A7ibjjKOuWq5X7af7wMN5RGGvKjyefVshdHURWvcWgKlhVSpPb_LolizrqYrjBoselRGEN2J4lHyzm40FAm4vU/s320/IMG_5957.JPG" width="320" /></a></div><i><span style="background: none transparent scroll repeat 0% 0%;"><span style="font-size: x-small;">Tips for Cyclists.</span></span></i></div><div style="font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; line-height: 115%; margin-bottom: 0.35cm;"><span style="background: none transparent scroll repeat 0% 0%;"><span style="font-size: x-small;">We didn't enjoy the couple of days riding from San Pedro, through Calama and down to La Negra very much. It is remote but surprisingly there is a lot of traffic (mainly mining traffic) and often there is no shoulder and lots of wind. The section around La Negra is particularly painful – we tried working out if there was a road south from Antofogasto along the coast that we could take but the locals weren't sure so we ended up riding south of La Negra on the main road (missing Antofogasto completely)and then turning off an taking the paved road towards Papusa (130-ish kms to Papusa) and then Taltal. Papusa was a friendly little fishing village where we could camp down near the ocean. We would definitely recommend this alternative route south – though you do have to cross over the coastal mountains to get down to Papusa, and then you have to climb up again when you leave Taltal (though the climb is gentle here).</span></span></div><div style="font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; line-height: 115%; margin-bottom: 0.35cm;"><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjdPa5gjj3loOs9ftbF-lOPndpqKoV4qzLvZ2w-qpY45ukk8fLr6ZS7C5uPjg6U6cxo7Iyt8RRYoCyQB0IWmOW4AtDqkj-7LmJj-H255cgz7FuNe6QGWS1k4FQUE5QmMYljmg5XUQ00SIU/s1600/IMG_5958.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; cssfloat: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" oda="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjdPa5gjj3loOs9ftbF-lOPndpqKoV4qzLvZ2w-qpY45ukk8fLr6ZS7C5uPjg6U6cxo7Iyt8RRYoCyQB0IWmOW4AtDqkj-7LmJj-H255cgz7FuNe6QGWS1k4FQUE5QmMYljmg5XUQ00SIU/s320/IMG_5958.JPG" width="320" /></a></div><span style="background: none transparent scroll repeat 0% 0%;"><span style="font-size: x-small;">We also took the road through Pan de Azucar which we really enjoyed too – hard packed dirt road and hardly any cars.</span></span></div><div style="font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; line-height: 115%; margin-bottom: 0.35cm;"><span style="background: none transparent scroll repeat 0% 0%;"><span style="font-size: x-small;">The road from Caldera to Vallenar is a new u-beaut freeway, with a great big shoulder. But this means a fence all along the side which makes stealth camping a little more difficult. A couple of times along the number 5 (about 30kms south of Copiapo and just before Huentelauquen (north of Los Vilos)) we camped in the roadside rest areas that have showers, toilets and an ambulance station that is attended all night – the ambos gave us permission to camp there, they were really friendly, though it can be very noisy with the trucks coming and going all night.</span></span></div><div style="font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; line-height: 115%; margin-bottom: 0.35cm;"><div class="separator" style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none; clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgW7iSpBIXONE7WT4XNLvZ11jw8ZSTGHRs_sndO-59Bip_ce8VmztvI5EuVwIneP9nyd7L2Iy2EwtpRmem31KVfBAfOeL0ol_FN_TIa1QaX58sBNJBBxoB4aWHEEnG3VgzmGBby-KWVsHI/s1600/IMG_5968.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; cssfloat: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" oda="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgW7iSpBIXONE7WT4XNLvZ11jw8ZSTGHRs_sndO-59Bip_ce8VmztvI5EuVwIneP9nyd7L2Iy2EwtpRmem31KVfBAfOeL0ol_FN_TIa1QaX58sBNJBBxoB4aWHEEnG3VgzmGBby-KWVsHI/s320/IMG_5968.JPG" width="240" /></a></div><div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;"><span style="background: none transparent scroll repeat 0% 0%;"><span style="font-size: x-small;">We turned off the number 5 just before La Ligua and went on the road along the coast through lots of fancy little towns towards Valparaiso. Lots of hills, but we enjoyed it. </span></span></div></div><div style="font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; line-height: 115%; margin-bottom: 0.35cm;"><span style="background: none transparent scroll repeat 0% 0%;"><span style="font-size: x-small;">From Valparaiso south we headed through the little back country roads as much as possible. We took the highway 68 out of town (we tried heading out of town on the smaller roads up over the hills but got turned back by someone that told us it was very dangerous and people were very bad in this area!) but turned off the highway as soon as possible and headed towards Tunquen (where we camped in a sandune) and then along the coast south (lots of steep hills here!). After San Antonio we headed back inland through small country roads (La Ruta de la Fruta) in the general direction of Santa Cruz. We got back on the Panam at Teno to do a day and a half of fast riding down to near Chillan.</span></span></div><div style="font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; line-height: 115%; margin-bottom: 0.35cm;"><span style="background: none transparent scroll repeat 0% 0%;"><span style="font-size: x-small;">Wild camping is easy in the north of Chile, where there are no fences and no people! The hardest thing is finding shelter from the wind. When we left San Pedro we planned to camp before Calama but found No shelter from the wind and so had to go into Calama and camp in town. We camped at service stations a couple of times along the Panam, but they can be noisy at night. Good beach camping when you are along the coast.</span></span></div><img height="64" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhwdUM_gFc_fgdAJSSzdeFTt2leja5fjl5oDFCx9TaDCW7VVCoKqyO-n8SavLuh5zNzAyE4R0dFzhqLsqZxBV2LIV-5dURsL1EV7f3s9GBcR6n2iFu6lssmym8FivoYxu4hVY2-9TBRe6M/s320/IMG_5898.JPG" style="filter: alpha(opacity=30); left: 100px; mozopacity: 0.3; opacity: 0.3; position: absolute; top: 1993px; visibility: hidden;" width="96" />Megsy Dhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05298194015249543749noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7058581339878947488.post-68977975387950896612011-11-21T04:12:00.000-08:002012-03-04T22:24:27.121-08:00The Best of Both Worlds: Northern Argentina and South-west Bolivia (Villazon – Cafayete and Uyuni – San Pedro de Atacami: 16th Oct - 13th Nov '11)<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjxc7v5vlRWjXNCD_sOTeRgiOu6EDE6JhMZVGFVh35IXIbOvLFV6CNfhdw6WSXlaxgF8P7Gqq5cHaA9_I0yCx5rEbbrCiohe0Qc-hHxpdvXdV1hILGdinbW-FpNoSIYIBSJEhHtqnAmg80/s1600/IMG_5449.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; cssfloat: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" hda="true" height="213" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjxc7v5vlRWjXNCD_sOTeRgiOu6EDE6JhMZVGFVh35IXIbOvLFV6CNfhdw6WSXlaxgF8P7Gqq5cHaA9_I0yCx5rEbbrCiohe0Qc-hHxpdvXdV1hILGdinbW-FpNoSIYIBSJEhHtqnAmg80/s320/IMG_5449.JPG" width="320" /></a></div><div style="font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; line-height: 115%; margin-bottom: 0.35cm;"><span style="background: none transparent scroll repeat 0% 0%;">Our last few weeks of riding have been almost polar opposite... easy cycling surrounded by great food and wine in Argentina and then some tough cycling in the middle-of-nowhere Bolivia with limited supplies! First up was our little foray into Northern Argentina with mum and Lacey. From the border with Bolivia we rode our bikes while mum and Lace took the bus (we couldn't quite convince them to get on the bikes yet) and we met them at interesting little towns along the way. </span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiPsFH4SczfRuSz6iUEm8ZZG7lD5dwdOniJBNmcJTJBLibQtJSk8iPQ3bUklwmMk-ENVShWvTMm8fJDstgT6xNq4xNvLJRyEXs93fUTi-FUTfKfAszUzutfHY7hgtnl1hvL9jOGeVhm3yc/s1600/IMG_5474.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; cssfloat: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" hda="true" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiPsFH4SczfRuSz6iUEm8ZZG7lD5dwdOniJBNmcJTJBLibQtJSk8iPQ3bUklwmMk-ENVShWvTMm8fJDstgT6xNq4xNvLJRyEXs93fUTi-FUTfKfAszUzutfHY7hgtnl1hvL9jOGeVhm3yc/s320/IMG_5474.JPG" width="320" /></a></div><div style="font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; line-height: 115%; margin-bottom: 0.35cm;"><span style="background: none transparent scroll repeat 0% 0%;">Coming out of Bolivia, where the majority of roads are dirt, and rough, we were suprised to find ourselves on asphalt roads in amazingly good condition, with very little traffic. The first day of riding in Northern Argentina was up on the altiplano and was frustratingly windy (headwinds.. grrr) but after this we started to drop in altitude, down through a multi-coloured Quebrada (canyon) scattered with little adobe villages. After a couple of days we dropped into warmer climes, which even had vegetation. After a long time in the high grasslands all the greenery was sensory overload! We moseyed through some nice towns, with Tilcara, Salta and Cafayete being our favourites.</span></div><div style="font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; line-height: 115%; margin-bottom: 0.35cm;"><span style="background: none transparent scroll repeat 0% 0%;">Coming into Argentina after spending months in Peru and Bolivia was quite a culture-shock. Argentina is a lot more developed (and expensive) and in Argentina the public toilets are clean, have toilet paper and even toilet seats!! </span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgIESACFL35JYaZCkQS74l0mZHJjPfXs7K9iB3PNPQlN_4_kkZaXNuZzhd2G_NtuTJ9-iwhgvi8IVT8b48qM_ebUdzBPHklhIPcEW-3FOB8QTg66APeXTSbjTduNlY2nSTEJQssS_Rmklc/s1600/IMG_5491.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; cssfloat: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" hda="true" height="179" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgIESACFL35JYaZCkQS74l0mZHJjPfXs7K9iB3PNPQlN_4_kkZaXNuZzhd2G_NtuTJ9-iwhgvi8IVT8b48qM_ebUdzBPHklhIPcEW-3FOB8QTg66APeXTSbjTduNlY2nSTEJQssS_Rmklc/s320/IMG_5491.JPG" width="320" /></a></div><div style="font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; line-height: 115%; margin-bottom: 0.35cm;"><span style="background: none transparent scroll repeat 0% 0%;">Argentinians also camp, which meant finding the first official campsites we have seen in a long time. Our second night in Argentina we enjoyed delicious red wine, good cheese and great bread in the garden of the hostel where we had camped. Hmmm we could get used to this life. </span></div><div style="font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; line-height: 115%; margin-bottom: 0.35cm;"><span style="background: none transparent scroll repeat 0% 0%;">The wine and food in Argentina was amazing... helped by the fact that these are two of mum and Lacey's favourite things and they spoiled us silly. We were quite happy to please them by eating as much food and drinking as much wine as we could! A couple of our highlights of this section were a great night out with Argentinean barbeque accompanied by some excellent Argentinean guitar and song, plus a day of wine-tasting around the vineyards in picturesque Cafayete. We felt like we were on holiday.</span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjbrpHoR1DLdQ-Ruy7VLDE3k6WDzQUI8ZMEPYRGNKN462iP9Uu-Uh1f5G3o-ND0lmYBHG-CNdw3xRqJv-L0lp8hzk6bZQIGQWArONOvwCoPrditO3CeDKd1vu4jvmj6wMPLvnU6GdAKBZY/s1600/IMG_5607.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; cssfloat: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" hda="true" height="179" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjbrpHoR1DLdQ-Ruy7VLDE3k6WDzQUI8ZMEPYRGNKN462iP9Uu-Uh1f5G3o-ND0lmYBHG-CNdw3xRqJv-L0lp8hzk6bZQIGQWArONOvwCoPrditO3CeDKd1vu4jvmj6wMPLvnU6GdAKBZY/s320/IMG_5607.JPG" width="320" /></a></div><div style="font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; line-height: 115%; margin-bottom: 0.35cm;"><span style="background: none transparent scroll repeat 0% 0%;">Of course all this wallowing around in Argentinean steaks and wine did not help us when it came time to say goodbye to mum and Lace and to get back to the bare-bones, camping in random spots, eating porridge/pasta on the camp-stove -kind of lifestyle that we were used to. Our ride through Northern Argentina was kind of like a little sidetrip as we planned to head back up to Uyuni in Bolivia to continue our ride through south-west Bolivia. </span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg0X1WmXcT4wAMoamLf6KqcZ8zsz0Cxdk0GExN66R2gJ-_YERo6525aeAP1ebXXsjWlUVFVn-E-T7e34tLsI95F6dLAabQdTsfN65FFiD2sRnCFPn-EFBIgFGHzSolPNXMVG7aMBJvPfyE/s1600/IMG_5688.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; cssfloat: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" hda="true" height="179" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg0X1WmXcT4wAMoamLf6KqcZ8zsz0Cxdk0GExN66R2gJ-_YERo6525aeAP1ebXXsjWlUVFVn-E-T7e34tLsI95F6dLAabQdTsfN65FFiD2sRnCFPn-EFBIgFGHzSolPNXMVG7aMBJvPfyE/s320/IMG_5688.JPG" width="320" /></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi9OSjwi2eir6voefZD_BFWYSK8Pngl1_u357RgvdCaY4AMGhpzwaD7nE5hl7PzjbMlUuwsWbrDRpV3nX8vLXrbrWNDVmeANK-8gI-aNzKlgby4xYwbeXHNzsXhDzopS0xxhEg6TBcXt6Y/s1600/IMG_5508.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; cssfloat: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" hda="true" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi9OSjwi2eir6voefZD_BFWYSK8Pngl1_u357RgvdCaY4AMGhpzwaD7nE5hl7PzjbMlUuwsWbrDRpV3nX8vLXrbrWNDVmeANK-8gI-aNzKlgby4xYwbeXHNzsXhDzopS0xxhEg6TBcXt6Y/s320/IMG_5508.JPG" width="213" /></a></div><div style="font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; line-height: 115%; margin-bottom: 0.35cm;"><span style="background: none transparent scroll repeat 0% 0%;">I was missing the more rough and tumble of Bolivia, the chaos and the interesting backroads. However, I could see Jules resolve to head back to Bolivia waver the more bottles of wine we consumed. We also knew we were going back to some pretty tough riding. South-west Bolivia (Sud Lipez) is an area that tour-cyclists have been riding (and talking up) as a real challenge. Basically it was supposed to be like mountain biking 450+km on 4-wheel drive tracks in terrible condition, with fully-loaded touring bikes, plus food for 10 days and up to 10 litres of water, with a lot of pushing the bike through sand, in high altitude conditions (all above 4300m), in extreme cold (-15 to -20 in the night) and with extreme wind. So its bad press wasn't helping me to motivate a wine-sodden Jules. Luckily I had some help when we met our friends Melissa and Justin in Salta who managed to convince Jules to give it a go and told us that it wasn't as bad as we had been led to believe. Besides this, we were also supposed to be meeting Jurgen back in Uyuni... so we bade goodbye to the friendly Argentineans with their delicious foods and drinks and caught the bus back up.</span></div><div style="font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; line-height: 115%; margin-bottom: 0.35cm;"><span style="background: none transparent scroll repeat 0% 0%;">We had a nice surprise back in Uyuni – another cycling party. Somehow cyclists have a knack for finding one another - it's quite uncanny since there aren't that many cyclists, and we are on a big continent. We met up with many of our friends from Cusco, plus a few new ones, for a dinner the night before we took off for the lagunas of south-west Bolivia.</span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiOSRGaMrlY5oQd1XwO3g0ebRbJB83L2e5I5GUoTzoq6iCtlCD8oytGQjPj2UW4VKeqAmfDgfwrsMJaf3Cnv-3jg_W3JI8UGCT9jSekQy3kMOxIjLMgFqRu2IsynwAq-tTlmQtRcvR4kwQ/s1600/IMG_5523.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; cssfloat: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" hda="true" height="213" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiOSRGaMrlY5oQd1XwO3g0ebRbJB83L2e5I5GUoTzoq6iCtlCD8oytGQjPj2UW4VKeqAmfDgfwrsMJaf3Cnv-3jg_W3JI8UGCT9jSekQy3kMOxIjLMgFqRu2IsynwAq-tTlmQtRcvR4kwQ/s320/IMG_5523.JPG" width="320" /></a></div><div style="font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; line-height: 115%; margin-bottom: 0.35cm;"><span style="background: none transparent scroll repeat 0% 0%;">Unfortunately Jurgen was ill and couldn't come with us on this section, which was a real bummer.... but we traded him in for three new cycling friends, Karin and Martin from the Netherlands, and Rasmus from Sweden. We ended up spending the next nine days (and beyond) with these guys, and having a lot of fun, whilst sharing the pain of the hard riding. None of them were originally doing the Lagunas route, but I'm pretty sure it was our fantastic company that helped them change their mind (and once they were on the Lagunas route and actually got to know us by then it was too late, they were kind of stuck with us!).</span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj1pzjQ8RgzXeNWiu2w79VR2V4EVBCLkX9ulWyfjmsSLDhODKxr-HYNtuDYKeXl7zsVl-Fn0Zgi3qjbAjyZ9o2wed6VaIwAA9re4YeuVOw7KcLKafVtbT1CEq-vRJri2QCg4mWPOqFmBJs/s1600/IMG_5704.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; cssfloat: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" hda="true" height="179" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj1pzjQ8RgzXeNWiu2w79VR2V4EVBCLkX9ulWyfjmsSLDhODKxr-HYNtuDYKeXl7zsVl-Fn0Zgi3qjbAjyZ9o2wed6VaIwAA9re4YeuVOw7KcLKafVtbT1CEq-vRJri2QCg4mWPOqFmBJs/s320/IMG_5704.JPG" width="320" /></a></div><div style="font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; line-height: 115%; margin-bottom: 0.35cm;"><span style="background: none transparent scroll repeat 0% 0%;">Jules was dragged along with all us, convinced only at my promise that we had enough food and that I would continue feeding her well (we had to carry all our food for the whole route). Luckily for my domestic happiness the Lagunas route was actually a little easier than we were expecting, and it was well-worth it. Jules of course managed the tough riding fine, while I was the one struggling behind, falling off my bike and feeling like I pushed more than I rode, all the while Jules was happily bouncing around up the front calling out “ohh I'm so glad we came this way, how beautiful is this!”.</span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiyygQxtpy6jUw2VDB8j8gNy6lV3vXP4v9YvgIeEx1ekNT4X0LwW6sYPeSjtJWBdCBK36tAf2Osts1Nivf2tnluhd4JExi-vCk30f-Fs8X0hJQkMlcIhQk82UXMC4o7XjKxAoEsTr8TYcE/s1600/IMG_5632.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; cssfloat: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" hda="true" height="179" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiyygQxtpy6jUw2VDB8j8gNy6lV3vXP4v9YvgIeEx1ekNT4X0LwW6sYPeSjtJWBdCBK36tAf2Osts1Nivf2tnluhd4JExi-vCk30f-Fs8X0hJQkMlcIhQk82UXMC4o7XjKxAoEsTr8TYcE/s320/IMG_5632.JPG" width="320" /></a></div><div style="font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; line-height: 115%; margin-bottom: 0.35cm;"><span style="background: none transparent scroll repeat 0% 0%;">We spent nine days riding through some amazing countryside, high up in the altiplano, where we were riding past snow-capped volcanoes, beautiful lagunas of different colours and through some fascinating rock formations. My favourite part of this riding was the camping in fantastic locations. There is nothing like the feeling of being in the middle of nowhere, with the altiplano spread out around you and the broad spread of stars above. Our favourite night was one we spent luxuriating in a natural hotspring and watching the full moon rise over a lagoon filled with flamingos. </span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiSAduc9G2uSsDjqX-P5usc3jblD9bKyTQbL3m-AfszZmh0NJvvK2cP7T7X10BpltMOILXbvJRRADibNga7rh2dApP3_03JmbYDr7k19xsdA6d7jnSi33-i5vPPg639EZo58MDf2MiMB2M/s1600/IMG_5846.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; cssfloat: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" hda="true" height="213" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiSAduc9G2uSsDjqX-P5usc3jblD9bKyTQbL3m-AfszZmh0NJvvK2cP7T7X10BpltMOILXbvJRRADibNga7rh2dApP3_03JmbYDr7k19xsdA6d7jnSi33-i5vPPg639EZo58MDf2MiMB2M/s320/IMG_5846.JPG" width="320" /></a></div><div style="font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; line-height: 115%; margin-bottom: 0.35cm;"><span style="background: none transparent scroll repeat 0% 0%;">At the end of our 9 days, by the time we got to the little hut perched high amongst the volcanoes, the remote Bolivian immigration post, we were smelly, dusty, tired and ready for a serious chocolate hit. But we were also very sad to leave the fantastically beautiful and otherworldly landscape that was the Lagunas route and the amazing country that was Bolivia. It was a bit of a shock to cross into Chile, hit asphalt and zoom down into the super touristy town of San Pedro. We were back in a different world! But at least they had chocolate. </span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg3AjBJiDgo0QHnuQncWRkZQFH6c1SuFPxFmbbFz7dtggBLCA4wjBexa8VpxAzUiYLlCyQ62fCX8HXSSIzXFbFgrQVkBzw_5Uv8KbT5-uIVa9Sf0CMZquwIL2mfdEqVBvCkXAfRRu4rvH4/s1600/IMG_5828.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" hda="true" height="213" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg3AjBJiDgo0QHnuQncWRkZQFH6c1SuFPxFmbbFz7dtggBLCA4wjBexa8VpxAzUiYLlCyQ62fCX8HXSSIzXFbFgrQVkBzw_5Uv8KbT5-uIVa9Sf0CMZquwIL2mfdEqVBvCkXAfRRu4rvH4/s320/IMG_5828.JPG" width="320" /></a></div><div style="font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; line-height: 115%; margin-bottom: 0.35cm;"><br />
</div><div style="font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; line-height: 115%; margin-bottom: 0.35cm;"><span style="background: none transparent scroll repeat 0% 0%;"></span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhNg3sRSTVDApzYvAU4AG_miwJytnPg08knbOxl485KHpanqraHVGcRy-e_xMwvf7K2AUzf8f2B6w7hrM2diqdANmwJ-DlSP5fQphhpCnv3PZk73iRIJ34Unn45agsH9jcTQeDvAvhdj9k/s1600/IMG_5751.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; cssfloat: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" hda="true" height="179" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhNg3sRSTVDApzYvAU4AG_miwJytnPg08knbOxl485KHpanqraHVGcRy-e_xMwvf7K2AUzf8f2B6w7hrM2diqdANmwJ-DlSP5fQphhpCnv3PZk73iRIJ34Unn45agsH9jcTQeDvAvhdj9k/s320/IMG_5751.JPG" width="320" /></a></div><div style="font-weight: normal; line-height: 115%; margin-bottom: 0.35cm;"><i><span style="background: none transparent scroll repeat 0% 0%;"><span style="font-size: x-small;">Notes for Other Cyclists</span></span></i></div><div style="font-weight: normal; line-height: 115%; margin-bottom: 0.35cm;"><i><span style="background: none transparent scroll repeat 0% 0%;"><span style="font-size: x-small;">Northern Argentina</span></span></i></div><div style="font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; line-height: 115%; margin-bottom: 0.35cm;"><span style="background: none transparent scroll repeat 0% 0%;"><span style="font-size: x-small;">Mostly the riding in Northern Argentina will seem like a dream after Bolivia – the only problem we had were the headwinds that started late-morning so we tried to get most of our riding done as soon as possible (might be seasonal?? we were there late Oct). Our first day out from the border was tough in the wind, and if you are wild camping you will need to find a protected spot – we camped behind a church that was about 101 kms from the border. </span></span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiWoVBUQ4t1DDi6XH6BVNxjKwoVDA1s9FMpgSyyaEn33qTfP-7mMR7SF5rdH7LPurbcWAqYNjNYfbs9dm5Z50A9IUqi-OUt4YgRi9mD74ldtkawTz0lrEBQ9wU_ruyPMQZgUKa0OUFK98A/s1600/IMG_5598.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; cssfloat: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" hda="true" height="179" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiWoVBUQ4t1DDi6XH6BVNxjKwoVDA1s9FMpgSyyaEn33qTfP-7mMR7SF5rdH7LPurbcWAqYNjNYfbs9dm5Z50A9IUqi-OUt4YgRi9mD74ldtkawTz0lrEBQ9wU_ruyPMQZgUKa0OUFK98A/s320/IMG_5598.JPG" width="320" /></a></div><div style="font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; line-height: 115%; margin-bottom: 0.35cm;"><span style="background: none transparent scroll repeat 0% 0%;"><span style="font-size: x-small;">In Tilcara there is a hostel called Wairu Hostal, and the owner is lovely and a cycling enthusiast! We camped here, it had wifi and we could fix the bikes in the garden. We can definitely recommend.</span></span></div><div style="font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; line-height: 115%; margin-bottom: 0.35cm;"><span style="background: none transparent scroll repeat 0% 0%;"><span style="font-size: x-small;">From San Salvador de Jujuy to Salta you can take a small back road (its the number 9 through 'El Carmen'). A great day riding, you have to climb a little, it goes up through the hills and past the dams, but its a tiny road (really only one lane) with very little traffic. It was so relaxed and easy it felt like a Sunday ride in the hills.</span></span></div><div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none; font-weight: normal; line-height: 115%; margin-bottom: 0.35cm;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgjRnTaH_YYU44c9AqcebF-X8TU2vJunc9WR6veQzKzG69Rk680mdJ6DCAuEQivUEeU-Qc4HnbawTyoPOtQ03Z0VoRaTnAD6gnaeGb_XEVLNWi6jz7QJovUvUqWruP_-5mRvmX_YPE2D34/s1600/IMG_5682.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; cssfloat: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" hda="true" height="179" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgjRnTaH_YYU44c9AqcebF-X8TU2vJunc9WR6veQzKzG69Rk680mdJ6DCAuEQivUEeU-Qc4HnbawTyoPOtQ03Z0VoRaTnAD6gnaeGb_XEVLNWi6jz7QJovUvUqWruP_-5mRvmX_YPE2D34/s320/IMG_5682.JPG" width="320" /></a><i><span style="background: none transparent scroll repeat 0% 0%;"><span style="font-size: x-small;">Bolivia</span></span></i></div><div style="font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; line-height: 115%; margin-bottom: 0.35cm;"><span style="background: none transparent scroll repeat 0% 0%;"><span style="font-size: x-small;">We got a lot of our information on cycling south-west Bolivia from the Tour-tk website and pdf (see <a href="http://www.tour.tk/tour-guides-south-west-bolivia.htm">http://www.tour.tk/tour-guides-south-west-bolivia.htm</a>), plus some updated information from friends who had just done it. The pdf is very useful for information, such as water points, possible campsites, distances etc. We found some of the road surfaces quite different from what we were expecting, - the tracks change so much its hard to know what you are going to get! Time of year, amount of jeep traffic, finding the right track and many other factors can impact the track conditions. For example, one day we passed a grader which meant that we had half a day of riding on a recently graded sandy track – but a few days later the same track would probably be back to washboard!</span></span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgZlA5nfv08D47U1a2E77k-Y7IHAUHOHw7Eyaly0psdxN6EzkSAlneFdjiBCEJmTo73M3U_iwmE4Y392F3GeO2-6slUlzcqu9DZeHTgWNvflOiDJDL7ej2woOSeBDe8FS4-VocQwDwgsI0/s1600/IMG_5606.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; cssfloat: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" hda="true" height="179" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgZlA5nfv08D47U1a2E77k-Y7IHAUHOHw7Eyaly0psdxN6EzkSAlneFdjiBCEJmTo73M3U_iwmE4Y392F3GeO2-6slUlzcqu9DZeHTgWNvflOiDJDL7ej2woOSeBDe8FS4-VocQwDwgsI0/s320/IMG_5606.JPG" width="320" /></a></div><div style="font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; line-height: 115%; margin-bottom: 0.35cm;"><span style="background: none transparent scroll repeat 0% 0%;"><span style="font-size: x-small;">The pdf doesn't include information on getting to the lagunas from Uyuni – so here is a little info: Head out of Uyuni on the “international road” in the direction of San Cristobal. This road is in surprisingly good condition in 2011(I think it was built by a mining company, and it is in far better condition that most of the roads in Bolivia that we rode on). It is pretty hardpacked with some areas of pseudo-pavement, and if you can avoid the potholes you can get a pretty smooth ride. It is 90kms of fairly unexciting riding (flat altiplano) to San Cristobal where you can get extra food and water that you may need. San Cristobal has a market so there is food, but it is more expensive that Uyuni and it is limited- there was no bread or cheese in town when we were there. I think there were some hospedajes, but we camped outside of town so didn't pay much attention. </span></span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiV8RPcdBr_rON0xJqeT7xno1WV_wgMo6eqT5FkoABo4b7MhsgqMtyzApD3MNOPHS-VnZbSAoVA085ED6IepZtTuRoV3BhWIQozMhJUXFgcOThaTn3GxtAKrdHba458_3XNWpsvzuOYbow/s1600/IMG_5777.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; cssfloat: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" hda="true" height="179" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiV8RPcdBr_rON0xJqeT7xno1WV_wgMo6eqT5FkoABo4b7MhsgqMtyzApD3MNOPHS-VnZbSAoVA085ED6IepZtTuRoV3BhWIQozMhJUXFgcOThaTn3GxtAKrdHba458_3XNWpsvzuOYbow/s320/IMG_5777.JPG" width="320" /></a></div><div style="font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; line-height: 115%; margin-bottom: 0.35cm;"><span style="background: none transparent scroll repeat 0% 0%;"><span style="font-size: x-small;">The next day we really enjoyed the riding, the scenery got a little more exciting and we started to see volcanoes- a few more ups and downs to make things more interesting too. 60Km from San Cristobal is the town of Villa Alota, which has a few shop-houses.. you will just need to go around peering in windows and knocking on doors to be able to find them! You can buy the basics here, biscuits, soft-drink etcetc. Nothing fresh when we were there. We camped about 16kms or so past Villa Alota in the “Valley of the Rocks' , which is very picturesque and offers lots of great camping opportunities out of the wind.</span></span></div><div style="font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; line-height: 115%; margin-bottom: 0.35cm;"><span style="background: none transparent scroll repeat 0% 0%;"><span style="font-size: x-small;">Around 28 - 30kms after Villa Alota is the first track that comes off the International Rd which you can take to join up with the Lagunas Route. The track heads south of the international road and was marked by a cairn of stones and is at the top of a slight rise, in in front of Volcano Caquella. If you continue on the international road past this turnoff and go around this volcano on the north side you will see the other turn-off from the road that heads to the lagunas, this is the route described in the Tour-TK pdf.</span></span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg-wvaLJ4cFqobWXSUkJI_yJpGLFCp7OYju_tEu88h08V_eothdCMWPEUe_oKGHrRrlEIpqHRXqmscTYw-4ZmldcbIgyK-ZA3ZJKrG5s1s2aegD7R3yk4EzEM2VV9jUqfeud3Oa2XhMkvI/s1600/IMG_5719.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; cssfloat: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" hda="true" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg-wvaLJ4cFqobWXSUkJI_yJpGLFCp7OYju_tEu88h08V_eothdCMWPEUe_oKGHrRrlEIpqHRXqmscTYw-4ZmldcbIgyK-ZA3ZJKrG5s1s2aegD7R3yk4EzEM2VV9jUqfeud3Oa2XhMkvI/s320/IMG_5719.JPG" width="179" /></a></div><div style="font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; line-height: 115%; margin-bottom: 0.35cm;"><span style="background: none transparent scroll repeat 0% 0%;"><span style="font-size: x-small;">We took the first turnoff (before the volcano) and loved it – hardly any of the tourist jeeps go this way and we really enjoyed the scenery. It was one of our favourite parts, although the riding was pretty tough and we heard another cyclist that had tried it recommended NOT doing it..... The road is rocky, sandy in parts and with some deep ruts and will require some pushing but is mainly rideable. The track actually heads towards Laguna Colorada, so in order to visit the other northern lagunas you need to turn off at the first track to the right (very easy to miss, quite faint) that goes around the side and back of Volcano Caquella. If you miss this one you can continue on until you reach a small laguna and there is another track to the right (somewhere). The track you are looking for is the one that heads west between Volcanoes Caquella and Tapaquillcha (the one south of Caquella). We camped around the back of Volcano Caquella at a river crossing which had running water.</span></span></div><div style="font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; line-height: 115%; margin-bottom: 0.35cm;"><span style="background: none transparent scroll repeat 0% 0%;"><span style="font-size: x-small;">On our fourth morning out from Uyuni the track we were on joined up with the Lagunas Route, as described in the Tour-tk pdf ,at Laguna Helionda. </span></span></div><div style="font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; line-height: 115%; margin-bottom: 0.35cm;"><span style="background: none transparent scroll repeat 0% 0%;"><span style="font-size: x-small;">We took 9 days to ride from Uyuni to San Pedro, but we took it fairly easy most days – we only did one pretty long tough day.</span></span></div><div style="font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; line-height: 115%; margin-bottom: 0.35cm;"><span style="background: none transparent scroll repeat 0% 0%;"><span style="font-size: x-small;">Other tips: try and start riding early in the morning as the wind picks up by late morning and it can be STRONG – I got blown off the road a number of times.</span></span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiBEPNx-o-hFcxo7JaAkd1G2JfSQAQdm-yT5Avzgw7X_5xgbky-BniALfqeo81sxZelEM6DMNx-TRsQT8nX2Qq2qxx2qESaoHFmQ_T_3Puy68DVdldJ8bPtOARTcGB6zqpvdzLTbIGYaBI/s1600/IMG_5686.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; cssfloat: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" hda="true" height="179" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiBEPNx-o-hFcxo7JaAkd1G2JfSQAQdm-yT5Avzgw7X_5xgbky-BniALfqeo81sxZelEM6DMNx-TRsQT8nX2Qq2qxx2qESaoHFmQ_T_3Puy68DVdldJ8bPtOARTcGB6zqpvdzLTbIGYaBI/s320/IMG_5686.JPG" width="320" /></a></div><div style="font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; line-height: 115%; margin-bottom: 0.35cm;"><span style="background: none transparent scroll repeat 0% 0%;"><span style="font-size: x-small;">Try and be at the hotsprings at night, all the tourist jeeps are gone, and wallowing in the hotsprings after a hard days riding has got to be of lifes great joys! If you don't want to sleep on the floor of the restaurant (we heard it was noisy as they start cooking early in the morning) you can camp 100m or so up the road in a corral.</span></span></div><div style="font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; line-height: 115%; margin-bottom: 0.35cm;"><span style="background: none transparent scroll repeat 0% 0%;"><span style="font-size: x-small;">Most people seemed to have had to pay an “exit tax” to leave Bolivia at this border. But we didn't have to. Not sure if it is dependent on your nationality but we had an Australian, a Canadian and some Euro passports and none of us paid. The immigration guys saw that we already exited Bolivia at another border so maybe they realised that we had never paid an exit tax before and decided not to try it on us.... or alternatively we had told them how much we loved Bolivia so maybe they just liked us :) Also, a big difference from the pdf is that the park entrance fee is now 150 Bolivianos (not 30). Expensive!</span></span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhv6Cx3WOnDffud7vp3DX55ahSv9qdT3NQ365R1lMB5EAAWvAvLtP318z2uQMP6znlu1Rrzg4F8ahn0O4oA-bJ0HCsxTjDruoBhMYxk1B72m5-4P57sAg-6pijL6pPqFpCTG5xbVJBEcgo/s1600/IMG_5724.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; cssfloat: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" hda="true" height="179" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhv6Cx3WOnDffud7vp3DX55ahSv9qdT3NQ365R1lMB5EAAWvAvLtP318z2uQMP6znlu1Rrzg4F8ahn0O4oA-bJ0HCsxTjDruoBhMYxk1B72m5-4P57sAg-6pijL6pPqFpCTG5xbVJBEcgo/s320/IMG_5724.JPG" width="320" /></a></div><div style="font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; line-height: 115%; margin-bottom: 0.35cm;"><span style="background: none transparent scroll repeat 0% 0%;"><span style="font-size: x-small;">The Lagunas route is tough – most of the tracks are in terrible condition, and there are hardly any services so you do need to carry lots of food and water, but it was definitely not as hard as we were expecting, and wasn't our hardest riding of the trip. The worst aspect for me was all the tourist jeeps – most are really nice and friendly, and we chatted to lots but there were a few that zoomed past us too close on the bad roads. The only good thing is that generally all the tourist jeeps go to the same places at around the same time, so you get times where quite a few jeeps go past but then you will get long stretches with no-one.</span></span></div><div style="font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; line-height: 115%; margin-bottom: 0.35cm;"><span style="background: none transparent scroll repeat 0% 0%;"><span style="font-size: x-small;">We had a number of different maps that we had collected from different sources and they all have different tracks and information, so I would recommend getting as many as you can (especially one with the locations of the volcanoes because that can help you work out where you are!) so you can try and put them all together and work out what is correct! The tourist offices in Uyuni sometimes have maps.</span></span></div><div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none; font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; line-height: 115%; margin-bottom: 0.35cm;"><span style="background: none transparent scroll repeat 0% 0%;"><span style="font-size: x-small;">Expect lots of sand, lots of washboard, lots of pushing and tough riding.... but gorgeous views!</span></span></div><div class="separator" style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none; clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjP24ja-X2ulox_1A76Uavk3hJXnWLLvMHQ6KGcTha1mAlS8WTc_myvRnMX44M8NouGbYqE92CqO5Z5yC-ZFT5RTF0ZKDnqX2Y9olf3UYv0mxweO0FNPOuGLyKZp8GYs2Vj1K4oB4qfgAM/s1600/IMG_5779.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" hda="true" height="179" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjP24ja-X2ulox_1A76Uavk3hJXnWLLvMHQ6KGcTha1mAlS8WTc_myvRnMX44M8NouGbYqE92CqO5Z5yC-ZFT5RTF0ZKDnqX2Y9olf3UYv0mxweO0FNPOuGLyKZp8GYs2Vj1K4oB4qfgAM/s320/IMG_5779.JPG" width="320" /></a></div>Megsy Dhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05298194015249543749noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7058581339878947488.post-28849292586793439572011-11-01T05:43:00.000-07:002012-03-04T22:24:27.122-08:00Into Bolivia: Cusco, Peru - Uyuni, Bolivia (25th Sept - 15th Oct)<div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none; font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; line-height: 115%; margin-bottom: 0.35cm;"><div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;"><div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhzJOpAIpBYhIZMOxJ8cN5E-lRexgaMngNeBESnmth3GHhOSAOQ-iH4oilSHLrNVru0PAn6qWtV38150-mA8lZ9LFHgdLTJwr-JFO9R7znfWIKqdFC-pDUxac5YnJcYqfhi4VGi27_GhIY/s1600/IMG_4583.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; cssfloat: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="213" ida="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhzJOpAIpBYhIZMOxJ8cN5E-lRexgaMngNeBESnmth3GHhOSAOQ-iH4oilSHLrNVru0PAn6qWtV38150-mA8lZ9LFHgdLTJwr-JFO9R7znfWIKqdFC-pDUxac5YnJcYqfhi4VGi27_GhIY/s320/IMG_4583.JPG" width="320" /></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi9Ub7PBfOC8M6Bz55H6OQvIWqXMBY28FdLbefmkDFBWYVQE8Iu-hbChdPNJvYcic2ZxkNRixElLAfZ1nvzm266NlpcqVyWzSuHPWZ0vXLqm5Vam9EQMEChI81Q5LCC_oeBak6Tr8pkOAE/s1600/IMG_4458.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; cssfloat: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" ida="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi9Ub7PBfOC8M6Bz55H6OQvIWqXMBY28FdLbefmkDFBWYVQE8Iu-hbChdPNJvYcic2ZxkNRixElLAfZ1nvzm266NlpcqVyWzSuHPWZ0vXLqm5Vam9EQMEChI81Q5LCC_oeBak6Tr8pkOAE/s320/IMG_4458.JPG" width="213" /></a><span style="background: none transparent scroll repeat 0% 0%;">After some tough weeks of riding through the mountains of Peru a break from the bikes in Cusco and the surrounds was in order. Perfectly timed with this was a visit from my mother and her best friend Lacey, and what followed was some bike-free weeks of eating and drinking and being merry. Mum and Lace had set themselves a task of fattening us up and fed us lots of yummy foods, which, combined with the scrolls at the French bakery down from the wonderful Hostal Estrellita, provided us with some extra padding. <br />
Our time off the bikes with mum and Lace included a wonderful five days down in the Amazon jungle where we were spoilt at an eco-lodge spotting exotic birds and wildlife; then a week in the cities of Cusco and La Paz, getting cultured up. Jules realised she had gained two allies – mum and Lace hold holy the idea of 'beer o'clock', drink wine like its going out of fashion and spent most of the days wandering the streets checking out menus and avoiding museums – Jules happily wined and dined along with them.</span></div></div></div><div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none; font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; line-height: 115%; margin-bottom: 0.35cm;"><div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhkHyr1LZQ9HQb744vqSrl0Mfxi8ac8VOwCsvUJQ54yXzaLav-zKlDNCdObeYkysprfvdq3FN6aD-d_12KFtMo3OkEkHJQ695QZ71z4dlndjnOXt7U4FciV1tpr2gvsj7UnLqTSzxiYNCw/s1600/IMG_4884.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; cssfloat: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="213" ida="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhkHyr1LZQ9HQb744vqSrl0Mfxi8ac8VOwCsvUJQ54yXzaLav-zKlDNCdObeYkysprfvdq3FN6aD-d_12KFtMo3OkEkHJQ695QZ71z4dlndjnOXt7U4FciV1tpr2gvsj7UnLqTSzxiYNCw/s320/IMG_4884.JPG" width="320" /></a><span style="background: none transparent scroll repeat 0% 0%;">During this little sojourn we also visited Macchu Picchu, which is normally very expensive to get to, and way out of our budget – so instead we took the cheap option of a tough 6 hour bus ride, a 2 hour walk along the railway line and then an hour and a half climb up to the ruins. My poor mum accompanied us but luckily could see the adventurous side of the very long day it took us to get there. However, she will be forever scarred after travelling along some of the rough roads of Peru – and of course she is now terrified after knowing quite how bad some of the roads are that we ride on! Luckily Macchu Picchu was worth all the hype – we had a great (if slightly wet and rainy) morning of wandering the ruins and exploring the picturesque setting of mist and jungle.</span></div></div><div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none; font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; line-height: 115%; margin-bottom: 0.35cm;"><div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgEsqW6g5y_6IXswLhK3dLwM1URMDn64PMMbjwyQQsCUsTGy1bz_1XK4EUvtF1nyBLfijPG403PN2H3y2_iODuK-ioMXbLMJ3ROC1AuJ9TG9FbuvMd7cEgfnBeEv-d-sXbXRx4N_1PQPNw/s1600/IMG_4909.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; cssfloat: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="213" ida="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgEsqW6g5y_6IXswLhK3dLwM1URMDn64PMMbjwyQQsCUsTGy1bz_1XK4EUvtF1nyBLfijPG403PN2H3y2_iODuK-ioMXbLMJ3ROC1AuJ9TG9FbuvMd7cEgfnBeEv-d-sXbXRx4N_1PQPNw/s320/IMG_4909.JPG" width="320" /></a><span style="background: none transparent scroll repeat 0% 0%;">We had become very settled in Cusco and our home-away-from home at Hostal Estrellita, but soon it was time to say goodbye to the Mum and Lace (though we would meet up with them later) and ride up and across the altiplano in the direction of Lake Titicaca and Bolivia. We were a little reluctant to leave Peru as we had had such an amazing few months travelling through the stunning countryside and meeting amazing people. Peru was definitely on our list of favourite countries – though admittedly this list is very long. Our last week on the altiplano was no different, camping in friendly villages, at police stations, riding alongside the world's largest high-altitude lake and watching the unfurling of miles and miles of high altitude grassland.</span></div></div><div style="font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; line-height: 115%; margin-bottom: 0.35cm;"><div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEicNLzdW-W5TptWFzqqQ5G388aoCRiZn3TvZu4x7jZQwcXZIIGe3S_zpTCMZmHsLAXtlfcwTRLYZFPcpcAsGFEmsVgUOqedNuknZZjKz3V8z1wMAOwUbrTO7ZU0akOgAlzMyx84aPQ9Bnk/s1600/IMG_4912.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; cssfloat: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="213" ida="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEicNLzdW-W5TptWFzqqQ5G388aoCRiZn3TvZu4x7jZQwcXZIIGe3S_zpTCMZmHsLAXtlfcwTRLYZFPcpcAsGFEmsVgUOqedNuknZZjKz3V8z1wMAOwUbrTO7ZU0akOgAlzMyx84aPQ9Bnk/s320/IMG_4912.JPG" width="320" /></a><span style="background: none transparent scroll repeat 0% 0%;">Arriving in Bolivia was quite an experience – we rode in on election day, which in Bolivia means that no local vehicles are allowed to travel anywhere, plus there is a ban on alcohol for three days. Imagine if during elections in Australia we were told we couldn't drink alcohol or travel anywhere– there would be a revolt! However, it was a great way to arrive, with everyone out cycling the streets and we had the normally crazy streets of El Alto and La Paz all to our selves.</span></div></div><div style="font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; line-height: 115%; margin-bottom: 0.35cm;"><div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;"><span style="background: none transparent scroll repeat 0% 0%;">It is always enjoyable arriving in a new country and finding out all the interesting differences. For example, we quickly discovered that buying fuel for our stove is a whole lot easier in Bolivia. We have a Trangia which uses 'methylated spirts', which in most of Latin America is known as 'industrial alcohol' and is sold in hardware shops. In Bolivia we found our fuel in alcohol shops scattered everywhere throughout the towns and it was labelled “alcohol potable 96%'. Scary stuff.</span></div></div><div style="font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; line-height: 115%; margin-bottom: 0.35cm;"><div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh5OZvhoU20EAPrA5HuAn5n5MjCvUoIjjfi2R3e5g8fnHAWIYuIys1HpwxUAxtkmWzto4BG61NXtzCUbudS9RfPaKYij89wAp-j8NX_L0sTh0-aSjg98FpHC34cTz2mBJ6GuvZGbsYViYI/s1600/IMG_4975.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; cssfloat: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="213" ida="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh5OZvhoU20EAPrA5HuAn5n5MjCvUoIjjfi2R3e5g8fnHAWIYuIys1HpwxUAxtkmWzto4BG61NXtzCUbudS9RfPaKYij89wAp-j8NX_L0sTh0-aSjg98FpHC34cTz2mBJ6GuvZGbsYViYI/s320/IMG_4975.JPG" width="320" /></a><span style="background: none transparent scroll repeat 0% 0%;">Bolivia is a fascinating country - it went from being an important player in the colonial crown, with huge amounts of silver being dug out of the mines of Potosi and sent to Spain to help finance the Spanish empire, to now being the poorest countries in South America. It is a very colourful country – indigenous culture is very strong and the streets are filled with women in brightly patterned skirts, a bowler hat perched atop their heads, selling piles of stuff and knitting. Most of Bolivia seems to be an open-market as there appears to be a great reluctance to sell stuff inside shops, which makes for chaotic streets filled with small stores and food-vendors.</span></div></div><div class="separator" style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none; clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjDCtjpNntckhvEKHk3ULxO8abJRdwI5t8-_cy_8W5DgOSUpQILaaLLnSUM2o6ppHMR3uwXGR-EKaIoGJSJ2o4A9kpLYDjZnWWeq0LDzBKGYYdkrA7p_WwniJWxHa1Lz1bdydq_pMUYbaQ/s1600/IMG_5038.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; cssfloat: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="179" ida="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjDCtjpNntckhvEKHk3ULxO8abJRdwI5t8-_cy_8W5DgOSUpQILaaLLnSUM2o6ppHMR3uwXGR-EKaIoGJSJ2o4A9kpLYDjZnWWeq0LDzBKGYYdkrA7p_WwniJWxHa1Lz1bdydq_pMUYbaQ/s320/IMG_5038.JPG" width="320" /></a></div><div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none; font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; line-height: 115%; margin-bottom: 0.35cm;"><span style="background: none transparent scroll repeat 0% 0%;">Other interesting points we soon discovered about Bolivia: it is completely landlocked (having lost its coast in a war with Chile); however, despite being landlocked it still has a marine force. Bolivia has the world's second largest high-altitude plateau (after Tibet), the country stretches from the Amazon jungle all the way up into some of the world's highest mountains, it has the world's highest capital city and most importantly they sell delicious “saltenas” - which are like little juicy empanadas. </span></div><div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none; font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; line-height: 115%; margin-bottom: 0.35cm;"><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
</div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi8YLZI3aVdYopSPYJe2l0Xkdw7F5-xspSxtKBUNIz_f0_kJ4CSj53jVa95vkKXlAcryHLs9M-VpXLzdnZwbHPQXWZ71RC4lrJ2fzu3cy-azVFqdnyzQ_tYZ3C2KVEoxTRE84YeLPKmrPg/s1600/IMG_4992.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; cssfloat: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="213" ida="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi8YLZI3aVdYopSPYJe2l0Xkdw7F5-xspSxtKBUNIz_f0_kJ4CSj53jVa95vkKXlAcryHLs9M-VpXLzdnZwbHPQXWZ71RC4lrJ2fzu3cy-azVFqdnyzQ_tYZ3C2KVEoxTRE84YeLPKmrPg/s320/IMG_4992.JPG" style="cursor: move;" unselectable="on" width="320" /></a><span style="background: none transparent scroll repeat 0% 0%;">Also, we quickly discovered that Bolivians love to protest. The whole time we were in Bolivia there was something going on – either a protest against a road being built in the Amazon (which shut </span><br />
<div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;">parts of the city and country down for weeks, as indigenous groups walked more than 400 km to protest in the capital), or a train strike, or a miners strike which shut the roads (luckily we could still weave our way through the rocks, glass etc scattered along the road). People power is still strong in Bolivia and Bolivians seem to take the disruptions fairly calmly, which was a good lesson for us-anxiety-driven westerners. It is important to learn to go with the flow in Bolivia and not take things too seriously – life is not meant to go according to plan anway.</div></div><div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none; font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; line-height: 115%; margin-bottom: 0.35cm;"><div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjXoG5nvlpen4ic3ivnJBDIkzIhfi0MQTey_ktmlbPecsD0sd8Px4XEQBc0skVBmaQza055cSknZD245mFqXZmR3Zv7pfBNPrZH30z6k2qU_UeLOav6tPTcODSeaCokFdrzCr2HM2RP_hw/s1600/IMG_5195.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; cssfloat: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="179" ida="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjXoG5nvlpen4ic3ivnJBDIkzIhfi0MQTey_ktmlbPecsD0sd8Px4XEQBc0skVBmaQza055cSknZD245mFqXZmR3Zv7pfBNPrZH30z6k2qU_UeLOav6tPTcODSeaCokFdrzCr2HM2RP_hw/s320/IMG_5195.JPG" width="320" /></a><span style="background: none transparent scroll repeat 0% 0%;">The Bolivian roads are also notoriously bad – very few asphalt roads, and lots and lots of very bad roads or sandy tracks! Its always a bad sign when the roads are so bad that everyone (including us) opts for the sandy tracks on either side of the washboard road. These tracks were a lot more fun as we could go zooming along, making split-second route decisions and only occasionally ending up in the bushes, or sliding sideways through the suddenly deepened sand.</span></div></div><div style="font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; line-height: 115%; margin-bottom: 0.35cm;"><div class="separator" style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none; clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhI4TURXnmXsy9s0_GagyVvJ6r3ErLrJxYyEWZgXyeUTaVlF_gQNlvy_BiAn4PMggfqELBjg1KLNnc2Vmvo5e3w1WzHMnW9uw3-JJ35HRk08RPD7sBjcbEuQvBg3Wt9ciCdlnm1FP2erqM/s1600/IMG_5323.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; cssfloat: right; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="213" ida="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhI4TURXnmXsy9s0_GagyVvJ6r3ErLrJxYyEWZgXyeUTaVlF_gQNlvy_BiAn4PMggfqELBjg1KLNnc2Vmvo5e3w1WzHMnW9uw3-JJ35HRk08RPD7sBjcbEuQvBg3Wt9ciCdlnm1FP2erqM/s320/IMG_5323.JPG" width="320" /></a></div><div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;"><span style="background: none transparent scroll repeat 0% 0%;">We left La Paz on the asphalt highway but two days south of the city we left the stupidly-busy main road (which had been two days of not very enjoyable riding!) and headed out on the much more interesting backroads of Bolivia. Corrugations, rocks, sand, lots of llamas, lots more sand, quite a bit of dust, amazing vistas, meteor craters, tiny farming communities cultivating sand into quinoa, the world's largest salt flats, impressive volcanoes, colourful indigenous ladies - It was quite a trip. </span></div><div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEigFL5-NkDLd5sNBPEhLlpJsRCqtzUDXavNBnp5TezQM7ASsw5TEVfQX2eYQywTjbLjRsJj4Ln_EB0L-uopu3290mVOeh1UBgaTYMkEbS4fEeozNlTQDdwSDhfRrncdMW3kJ0766cvuXe4/s1600/IMG_5046.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; cssfloat: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="179" ida="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEigFL5-NkDLd5sNBPEhLlpJsRCqtzUDXavNBnp5TezQM7ASsw5TEVfQX2eYQywTjbLjRsJj4Ln_EB0L-uopu3290mVOeh1UBgaTYMkEbS4fEeozNlTQDdwSDhfRrncdMW3kJ0766cvuXe4/s320/IMG_5046.JPG" width="320" /></a></div><div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;"><span style="background: none transparent scroll repeat 0% 0%;">We were lucky enough to meet up with Joost, Michiel and Siska, cycling buddies who we had been meeting up with all the way down from Alaska. They were great fun to cycle with and always managing to sniff out a beer at the end of a hard day (even when we were camped in the middle of the altiplano, beside a huge meteor crater). So even while the riding was tough, and involved lots of semi-tracks, and lots of pushing through sand and over rocky outcrops, it was always fun. We also learnt a bit about Bolivian off-road riding – including that it is not necessarily best to try and take a short-cut across a seemingly short and easy looking mud-flat.. as it will quickly become soft and will require pushing the bike for 14km!</span></div></div><div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none; font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; line-height: 115%; margin-bottom: 0.35cm;"><div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjQn2B0dXgK9NUJXMElYhQPNhdPjOV1w7fxP3MCqZDyOySxJMIDaoxmtK50GL6z4LofqCtl_n-EcJ0F9h-MEN6Mo0-IDHylEf10xZQbDYIcpG0upZ5M_bRLFmkmtzBztLh9GXX2JvaP9m4/s1600/IMG_5384.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; cssfloat: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="213" ida="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjQn2B0dXgK9NUJXMElYhQPNhdPjOV1w7fxP3MCqZDyOySxJMIDaoxmtK50GL6z4LofqCtl_n-EcJ0F9h-MEN6Mo0-IDHylEf10xZQbDYIcpG0upZ5M_bRLFmkmtzBztLh9GXX2JvaP9m4/s320/IMG_5384.JPG" width="320" /></a><span style="background: none transparent scroll repeat 0% 0%;"><span id="goog_1067312624"></span><span id="goog_1067312625"></span>This route also involved a couple of days of cycling over the Salar de Uyuni, the world's largest salt flat. This was a trippy 100kms of white flatness in all directions, which came with great photo opportunities, an impressive sunset over our tents and the depressing realisation of how small and insignificant we really are. We all tumbled off the salt flat, dirty, smelly, burnt, with cracked lips from the dry cold and desperately in need of some civilisation after a dusty week. It was another perfect opportunity to meet up with mum and Lacey, who had been spending a few weeks travelling around Bolivia (though in a lot more civilised manner than us) and who were waiting for us in the tourist town of Uyuni. </span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhXlLqbWRRaYZ5tfyL1n3Tynwl1QvjfZEiV8jDnyQggTR3WyDjleLdKmxOZ4WSRx3SGLY9MN8hCMKO1A-pZGPvJ3Wrn0UpD3XxVW1SYbUMwqL2jOEn1BEmzLUNYoWR7gxV8f4gexhUc5qA/s1600/IMG_5407.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; cssfloat: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="213" ida="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhXlLqbWRRaYZ5tfyL1n3Tynwl1QvjfZEiV8jDnyQggTR3WyDjleLdKmxOZ4WSRx3SGLY9MN8hCMKO1A-pZGPvJ3Wrn0UpD3XxVW1SYbUMwqL2jOEn1BEmzLUNYoWR7gxV8f4gexhUc5qA/s320/IMG_5407.JPG" width="320" /></a></div><div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;"><span style="background: none transparent scroll repeat 0% 0%;">However, our reputation took a further battering when we tried to find them at their hotel after coming off the salt flats, and having not showered for a week. Their hotel looked horrified at our appearance and the hotel owner told them “some dirty girls came to visit you today”.... that just about sums us up! But nothing a scrubbing in the town showers and some good spoiling at a pizzeria by mum and Lacey couldn't fix! This was then a perfect opportunity for a little side trip with the bikes into Northern Argentina to sample the wines and fine foods and for Mum and Lace to fatten us up some more! No complaints here!</span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj5J8RP1jZSQfrMd7cBUrHY7RQ83Pf72rcuerzZCct7zU-B8x1ey34aPpQyO9-do4MlMuOKQUy_ViMDAKhII6Z-ucpe3gdyOKaC3MkQoUaVt2aZG2GFQ9C8yHSwqnTgAtNuRc7hTFcmqpM/s1600/IMG_5234.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="179" ida="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj5J8RP1jZSQfrMd7cBUrHY7RQ83Pf72rcuerzZCct7zU-B8x1ey34aPpQyO9-do4MlMuOKQUy_ViMDAKhII6Z-ucpe3gdyOKaC3MkQoUaVt2aZG2GFQ9C8yHSwqnTgAtNuRc7hTFcmqpM/s320/IMG_5234.JPG" width="320" /></a></div></div><img height="64" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi8YLZI3aVdYopSPYJe2l0Xkdw7F5-xspSxtKBUNIz_f0_kJ4CSj53jVa95vkKXlAcryHLs9M-VpXLzdnZwbHPQXWZ71RC4lrJ2fzu3cy-azVFqdnyzQ_tYZ3C2KVEoxTRE84YeLPKmrPg/s320/IMG_4992.JPG" style="filter: alpha(opacity=30); left: 160px; mozopacity: 0.3; opacity: 0.3; position: absolute; top: 1686px; visibility: hidden;" width="96" />Megsy Dhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05298194015249543749noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7058581339878947488.post-8878716862470429032011-09-24T18:44:00.000-07:002014-09-24T17:03:14.305-07:00Gringa! Why are you so Dirty? Peru Central Highlands: Caraz – Cusco (25th Aug – 24th Sept '11)<div style="font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; line-height: 115%; margin-bottom: 0.35cm;">
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgspWFZVssq1D5hdI2xRPu77LMHjclMV52z0cq13xuvQUCPbQUtglfrkcYjNaRi2tfUTdTdoZyDJ0mtvH5wAc1yqVUhhO3oCP82yEbZVd8nmUUo7jB8NWdHpCzCUA_jVOf_Ws2b1d6eMsM/s1600/IMG_3924.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; cssfloat: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgspWFZVssq1D5hdI2xRPu77LMHjclMV52z0cq13xuvQUCPbQUtglfrkcYjNaRi2tfUTdTdoZyDJ0mtvH5wAc1yqVUhhO3oCP82yEbZVd8nmUUo7jB8NWdHpCzCUA_jVOf_Ws2b1d6eMsM/s320/IMG_3924.JPG" hca="true" height="179" width="320" /></a>One thing Peru does very well is mountains. After arriving in Caraz and glimpsing the snow-capped peaks of the Cordillera Blanca up behind the town, we started getting up close and personal with a bunch of mountains.</div>
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After we spent a few days of rest, bike maintenance and food consumption in Caraz we gave the bikes a rest and our feet a workout – a 4 day hike up into the mountains. We did the popular Santa Cruz trek, wandering past some of the famous mountains of Peru. It was nice to work out some other muscles, other than our riding muscles; though by the time we arrived back at Caraz we were missing the girls and ready to jump back on the bikes and head further up the valley to Huaraz.</div>
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This section of riding was very social – we met Diana and Zilvinas from Lithuania, we met up again with Jurgen for pizza and beer in Huaraz and then a few days later, we ran into Melissa and Justin, from the States and had a fun couple of days riding with them. </div>
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When we left Huaraz we decided to take the “shortcut” through Huarascan National Park – a rough road that climbed up high through the national park but was absolutely spectacular – one of our favourite sections of the whole trip. We had awesome mountain views, beautiful secluded campsites and a lovely couple of days spent poodling up in the high mountains. We were also lucky enough to see the Puja de Raymondii with some old flower stalks on them. These plants have the world's largest inflorescence and they only flower once in their lifetime (and they live between 40 -100 years!). We passed by a number that had old inflorescence on them and the nerdy biologist got disproportionately excited.. </div>
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The ride up through the national park topped out around 4800 metres, with spectacular views, but an absolutely freezing wind! Once more a serendipitous meeting was a highlight. As we struggled up over the top of one of the passes a motorhome passed us with a German couple, Michelle and Marion inside. They invited us in for coffee and baked goods and shelter from the wind.</div>
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We camped up in the park at around 4800 metres, our highest camp so far, and with one of the best views. When we woke in the morning we peeked outside our tent and it was like a winter wonderland – the whole world had turned white! We thought it had snowed in the night, but on closer inspection it could have been a thick layer of ice on everything. We're still not sure what had occurred- we're Australian we don't have much experience in strange white stuff that appears in the middle of the night – but either way everything, tent, bikes was white, and we were pretty excited (tho' Jules was less excited when she realised her morning coffee would be delayed as all our water was frozen solid).</div>
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Climbing up that high also meant a great downhill run when we left the national park but as is the case in Peru – going down means going up again. After a couple of days with some great downhills we climbed all the way back up to the altiplano, a plateau of grasslands over 4000m, where we had some nice flat riding and spent time spotting herds of llamas and alpacas, and their wild relatives; the vicunas. We also managed to ride through two hailstorms in this section (and hail damn hurts when you are riding through it on a bike).</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhNdjt965NHSlSd5XAOwN0HE6vmHwQrUgSwhwmIv24ktTknC768hI7VHvhl4AHPOM-wIngtZQ4FE5Jqt1IIbZvw7w2KO-r5yGHdWryy8zHhyphenhyphenUKQen9Ob366tlSWtfV_P1MpkJju627jxTY/s1600/IMG_4231.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; cssfloat: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhNdjt965NHSlSd5XAOwN0HE6vmHwQrUgSwhwmIv24ktTknC768hI7VHvhl4AHPOM-wIngtZQ4FE5Jqt1IIbZvw7w2KO-r5yGHdWryy8zHhyphenhyphenUKQen9Ob366tlSWtfV_P1MpkJju627jxTY/s320/IMG_4231.JPG" hca="true" height="213" width="320" /></a></div>
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Through this section we were generally making our way south, in the direction of Cusco. We didn't have heaps of time to get to Cusco, as we had to meet my Mum and her best friend, Lacey, who were coming out to visit. And during this time we had to cycle 1700 kms, cross eight passes over 4000m and cycle through the infamous “Peruvian rollercoaster” a section of gravel road that goes up and down from low to high altitude like a heart monitor chart. </div>
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We rested up in Ayacucho, a very pretty colonial town with a great selection of markets and street-food, before the final push to Cusco. </div>
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The road from Ayacucho was supposedly the worst stretch of the road but it was not actually as bad as we expected. They are currently doing the road up, which meant some bad stretches of roadworks but also meant that there were sections that had been improved, providing us with random stretches of asphalt allowing us to zoom down some of the 50km+ downhills. It was some really interesting riding, camping up above 4000m in the freezing cold, but beautiful, high-altitude grasslands and then going all the way down to under 2000m where it was hot, the sandflys attacked us but where we hit areas of delicious tropical fruits and could stuff ourselves with mangoes. </div>
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We passed through lots of friendly little villages where the little old lady shop-proprietors hugged you before you were allowed to conduct any business dealings, and we camped amongst lots of friendly, and fascinated locals. The cry of 'gringo' followed us everywhere, though it was always friendly – except perhaps one shocked little old lady who was horrified about the layer of dirt and dust covering me, and called out “Gringo – why are you so dirty?”</div>
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The last few days of cycling before Cusco was again very social. Since the west coast of the US we have not met many other cycle tourists, so its nice to start meeting cyclists travelling South America. We cycled and camped with a number of other couples and on our last night before Cusco there were 7 of us that found a dry, warm floor in the government buildings of a small town. A cyclists sleepover. Even more exciting was arriving in Cusco and meeting old cycling friends, the Dutch boys - Michiel and Joost, Siska, the Lithuanians and the French couple were all there. </div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgPFatZWdNw2cKTRelYVhmQom1i4pihOmgDrU1tJL8-DGCkizal9OyqOVTIZB-PX4v3aUNF_XDpM-ju9qxXldbNCJO92-iHw1B_rFhyphenhyphenY7LZWug7iLfh9RrRcSBDDLfPS0f4IH94CSxPbEA/s1600/IMG_4405.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; cssfloat: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgPFatZWdNw2cKTRelYVhmQom1i4pihOmgDrU1tJL8-DGCkizal9OyqOVTIZB-PX4v3aUNF_XDpM-ju9qxXldbNCJO92-iHw1B_rFhyphenhyphenY7LZWug7iLfh9RrRcSBDDLfPS0f4IH94CSxPbEA/s320/IMG_4405.JPG" hca="true" height="179" width="320" /></a></div>
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There was also our Australian motorcycling friends, some overlanders and the cyclists we met over the last few days. Most of us ended up at the cyclist friendly hostel, La Estrellita, and all of us ended up at the pub. This resulted in a few large gatherings , and of course, being cyclists, lots of eating. One night we had 20 cyclists and 4 overlanders that did some serious damage on an Indian buffet and then (for some of us) some serious damage on the dancefloors of Cusco.</div>
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We are now putting the bikes away for a few weeks – leaving them in Cusco while we go to meet mum and Lacey for some bikeless tourist-time. </div>
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<i><span style="font-size: x-small;">Notes for Cyclists</span></i></div>
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<i><span style="font-size: x-small;">We took the fairly standard mountain route from Huaraz (as evidenced by the number of cyclists we met). Info on the route is available here: </span><a href="http://panamriders.biketravellers.com/peru-mountain-routes/"><span style="font-size: x-small;">http://panamriders.biketravellers.com/peru-mountain-routes/</span></a><span style="font-size: x-small;"> </span></i></div>
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<i><span style="font-size: x-small;">We did take the shortcut through Huascaran National Park after Huaraz – about 42km south of Huaraz turn off onto an unsigned dirt road at the deserted town (a few houses) of Pachacoto (there is a board with a map of the national park a little way up the road). At the border post of Carpa you enter the park (we used our 'Adventure Ticket' that we had bought when we did the Santa Cruz trek so we didnt' have to pay the entrance again). </span></i></div>
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<i><span style="font-size: x-small;">We also took the 'canyon' route from Izcuchaca to Ayacucho, instead of the 'mountain' route through Huancavelica. It was mainly gravel (except for about 50kms before Ayacucho) and it was hot and full of horrible sandflys! But we still enjoyed it – lots of great, friendly little villages. It took us about 3 days. </span></i></div>
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<i><span style="font-size: x-small;">The road between Ayacuho and Abancay they are starting to make into asphalt, so there are suprising stretches of pavement along the way – but also some tough sections through roadworks!! It will all be asphalt in a few years. Still nice and quiet with not too much traffic for now tho!</span></i></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiWhB6PDooNIaX4zzkE28lStjVuiwWh0GR9K0OJ0b-ymlNNeWFM5_yU3oTUloikcVQJQCZmynzeE-XIbO00MYXI4Ji3g7uVjMWdGVAZTgm6qgBXpkqF-ubRAMUsImOFtny8AHRSkWMzQFw/s1600/IMG_3983.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; cssfloat: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiWhB6PDooNIaX4zzkE28lStjVuiwWh0GR9K0OJ0b-ymlNNeWFM5_yU3oTUloikcVQJQCZmynzeE-XIbO00MYXI4Ji3g7uVjMWdGVAZTgm6qgBXpkqF-ubRAMUsImOFtny8AHRSkWMzQFw/s320/IMG_3983.JPG" hca="true" height="213" width="320" /></a> </div>
Megsy Dhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05298194015249543749noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7058581339878947488.post-61288375571082725032011-09-01T07:49:00.000-07:002011-09-18T23:13:18.046-07:00The Back Door Into Northern Peru: Vilcabamba, Ecuador – Caraz, Peru (2nd - 24th August '11)<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div><div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none; font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; line-height: 115%; margin-bottom: 0.35cm;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgvPh5fBZuereAznwR9p7WFVhYKPK7COdJ0UyAuqzrKPEvUF-kTs6xhPFXM69QjRpyju4TrZgxBifyOHC60xpJKet5WEQ6hEd8UMGVTAwRnGy_FeYZHC_fphN2XSBDiiQP90UuJdYncv50/s1600/IMG_3289.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; cssfloat: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="179" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgvPh5fBZuereAznwR9p7WFVhYKPK7COdJ0UyAuqzrKPEvUF-kTs6xhPFXM69QjRpyju4TrZgxBifyOHC60xpJKet5WEQ6hEd8UMGVTAwRnGy_FeYZHC_fphN2XSBDiiQP90UuJdYncv50/s320/IMG_3289.JPG" width="320" xaa="true" /></a><span style="background: none transparent scroll repeat 0% 0%;">At the end of our stay in Ecuador we took the dirt road south from Vilcabamba to the border of Peru. We left behind the asphalt not long after Vilcabamba and our last few days in Ecuador were on steep (up to 16 %) gravel slopes, up and down the mountains. It was some very enjoyable riding though – we had joined up with Jurgen, our German friend we first met cycling in the Yukon (more than a year ago!) and our days were filled with cycle gossip (its amazing how much we actually have to gossip about), made-up games (though we quickly discovered that eye-spy in Spanish is not that much of a challenge when our vocabulary is so limited!) and finding great places to camp. </span></div><div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none; font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; line-height: 115%; margin-bottom: 0.35cm;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjxNsVe4lXA-Yj7eAhpZhpjJxK9jlJgPC1GnE95wXTi-1YFvstU5PauMA318mf0ILpkqZB7RJVSKIOwFhtXj4igGBsIu8BmOVQH03l7lqzcIUTen8rioQbuB60Sw8dMe3nsp7EKxKS1SI8/s1600/IMG_3401.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; cssfloat: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="213" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjxNsVe4lXA-Yj7eAhpZhpjJxK9jlJgPC1GnE95wXTi-1YFvstU5PauMA318mf0ILpkqZB7RJVSKIOwFhtXj4igGBsIu8BmOVQH03l7lqzcIUTen8rioQbuB60Sw8dMe3nsp7EKxKS1SI8/s320/IMG_3401.JPG" width="320" xaa="true" /></a><span style="background: none transparent scroll repeat 0% 0%;">We managed to camp outside churches, abandoned schools, volleyball courts and inside a municipal building that the people in town smashed a window to get into – we were a little concerned that we were breaking into the government offices but the town assured us that it was no problem, they had simply locked the keys inside. </span><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjPsAgE0nvgwvbm6cuTtVtN1MbAQBFj3G7pFMBpoTxzm6tKTBggbX_z6i95VW5mEhLVr433kLpoE6X9MhL159qMmCEOGeej833UIc2JXTj_dbAEOg66LVFHcT0VDxFZSoU8Z2xFKTNHJBs/s1600/IMG_3377.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; cssfloat: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="213" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjPsAgE0nvgwvbm6cuTtVtN1MbAQBFj3G7pFMBpoTxzm6tKTBggbX_z6i95VW5mEhLVr433kLpoE6X9MhL159qMmCEOGeej833UIc2JXTj_dbAEOg66LVFHcT0VDxFZSoU8Z2xFKTNHJBs/s320/IMG_3377.JPG" width="320" xaa="true" /></a></div><div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none; font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; line-height: 115%; margin-bottom: 0.35cm;"><span style="background: none transparent scroll repeat 0% 0%;"> <span style="background: none transparent scroll repeat 0% 0%;">These last days in Ecuador we met lots of friendly people – including a large family of children who were absolutely thrilled when we camped next to their house. We played volleyball and soccer with them, they “helped” us put up our tents and cook our dinner and when we woke in the morning they were all sitting patiently in front of our tent waiting for us to provide their morning's entertainment.</span></span></div><div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none; font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; line-height: 115%; margin-bottom: 0.35cm;"><span style="background: none transparent scroll repeat 0% 0%;">We crossed into Peru just south of Zumba, at Chonta/La Balsa, the most chilled border crossing I have done – we had to tear our immigration officer away from his karaoke machine to fill out our paperwork. After we had passed over the bridge and entered Peru we found that the Peruvian road engineers are a little more considerate to poor cyclists - the gravel was a little less bone-shaking and the road gradients were a lot kinder – though it did mean that the climbs were suddenly a lot longer... ups and downs of more than 50kms is quite normal in Peru!</span></div><div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none; font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; line-height: 115%; margin-bottom: 0.35cm;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg3OvCjRpGR178VzHopFtMKW9bNGDmxg6uFfGXz0aCEO4FOzUAXda4wHBMQWFT7ngxMlF8i4vJL44lzR6pLl6DToMb1a_LmsbtxQp6HjgHn1m7hObOUdbfHTsjOSy3z99Ppu_TE6lunGSQ/s1600/IMG_3416.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; cssfloat: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg3OvCjRpGR178VzHopFtMKW9bNGDmxg6uFfGXz0aCEO4FOzUAXda4wHBMQWFT7ngxMlF8i4vJL44lzR6pLl6DToMb1a_LmsbtxQp6HjgHn1m7hObOUdbfHTsjOSy3z99Ppu_TE6lunGSQ/s320/IMG_3416.JPG" width="320" xaa="true" /></a><span style="background: none transparent scroll repeat 0% 0%;">Arriving in Peru we slowly dropped in altitude, the landscape started to get more lush and green and the weather grew more sultry, until on our third day in Peru we were in the “Amazonia” area, sweltering in the heat and riding along a flat road through a valley of irrigated rice paddies and palm-trees. The road also turned to asphalt and after the super-steep rocky climbs that we had come through we could enjoy the ease of smooth cycling. We hadn't experienced 'flat' for a long time and it was a nice change for a couple of days.. though of course it couldnt' last too long, and after a few days we left the main road at Pedro Ruiz to head west on a dirt road through a very pretty parrot-filled canyon along the Rio Utcubamba– slowly climbing our way back up into the mountains.</span></div><div style="font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; line-height: 115%; margin-bottom: 0.35cm;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjSh1gXPM5na7QpKHFMCAZvvPaxx9YY08qNUEQ2cXAEiCDDM1OGiD4drznjNq8wIAXBYJZSXmBVUtaCKIENK8FpKWGYSkFznyfe3Ax7qx6l-2pQVo_R717r2VchQlMncgf0nc-SxZe2bI8/s1600/IMG_3563.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; cssfloat: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="213" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjSh1gXPM5na7QpKHFMCAZvvPaxx9YY08qNUEQ2cXAEiCDDM1OGiD4drznjNq8wIAXBYJZSXmBVUtaCKIENK8FpKWGYSkFznyfe3Ax7qx6l-2pQVo_R717r2VchQlMncgf0nc-SxZe2bI8/s320/IMG_3563.JPG" width="320" xaa="true" /></a><span style="background: none transparent scroll repeat 0% 0%;">On the way from the Amazonia up into the northern mountains we passed by Kuelap, an old Chachapoyan ruin, that was worth a day off to do a 3-hour hike from the town of Tingo up to the site's impressive perch overlooking the surrounding mountains. In Tingo we also met an English/Polish couple cycling north to south, and we could happily pick their brain about the next part of our route. We didn't have that much info on the back roads that we were going to take in the next week or so as we didn't know many cyclists that had done this route but Sywlia and Matthew had just come from there... they left us with the less than satisfying information that we were headed for “the hardest roads that they had done in Peru” and that one of our next downhill sections (60km long) was worse than 'The Worlds Most Dangerous Road' – sandy, narrow and with steep dop-offs on the side. Hmmm reassuring.</span></div><div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none; font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; line-height: 115%; margin-bottom: 0.35cm;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiU7XuCf4Y7jViuTsCmYC6S7r-7cnZ-9oW-zQwKhl036kXrUOh8Yh8jMnd2fWpAaIVDlnooXsNbDFVfuwqbm1Lq2b_NEz6MjYaVAJmhmJXagWsJoozohR5zzk0cx03ytrOkjWBcouVmKrA/s1600/IMG_3613.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; cssfloat: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="213" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiU7XuCf4Y7jViuTsCmYC6S7r-7cnZ-9oW-zQwKhl036kXrUOh8Yh8jMnd2fWpAaIVDlnooXsNbDFVfuwqbm1Lq2b_NEz6MjYaVAJmhmJXagWsJoozohR5zzk0cx03ytrOkjWBcouVmKrA/s320/IMG_3613.JPG" width="320" xaa="true" /></a><span style="background: none transparent scroll repeat 0% 0%;">However, while the roads deteriorated as we headed back into the mountains the scenery certainly proved diverse. As we passed through the mountains we would go from green dairy farming areas in the mountainous areas all the way down to arid desert landscapes in the canyons. One chilly mountain night we warmed ourselves by a fire with a friendly campesino family (who insisted that we camp in their potato barn as our tent would be too cold) and the next night we were camped down in the desert with the fly open, watching the stars above us in the warm, dry air. Winding our way through these mountains meant some impressive ascents and descents – one memorable progression was a 30km climb, followed by a 60km descent and then straight back up into a 45km climb!</span></div><div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none; font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; line-height: 115%; margin-bottom: 0.35cm;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj3WoozPdlee1d0CZ08IFYGXNhU07Jg0JUgpfTr8YJkWmnot8_BJRp2TCZs-6FMbXRuEOBy6EkLbKx6ngTEPODzBQPhsDhMqk35UHS58AoIFpWlXMEE_qJOIQDwNmnOYeB52FRRwHnYW54/s1600/IMG_3672.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; cssfloat: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj3WoozPdlee1d0CZ08IFYGXNhU07Jg0JUgpfTr8YJkWmnot8_BJRp2TCZs-6FMbXRuEOBy6EkLbKx6ngTEPODzBQPhsDhMqk35UHS58AoIFpWlXMEE_qJOIQDwNmnOYeB52FRRwHnYW54/s320/IMG_3672.JPG" width="179" xaa="true" /></a><span style="background: none transparent scroll repeat 0% 0%;">After all this climbing we were looking forward to some time off in Cajamarca, a nice laidback colonial town, where we spent our time eating our way through the streets and markets. We had heard lots of great things about the food of Peru but up until Cajamarca we had struggled to even find much to eat in the small towns that we had passed through. In these towns it was difficult to determine which houses were also shops and we had spent a lot of time peering into darkened doorways to see if they had any food for sale. Cajamarca was heaven though, we discovered a glorious array of streetfood, fried goodness and enough sweet things to load our bodies up with sugar for the next part of the rough roads through the mountains ahead. Our other present to our bodies after all their hardwork through the mountains was calling in at the hotsprings of Banos del Inca to have a wallow in the blissfully warm waters. </span></div><div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none; font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; line-height: 115%; margin-bottom: 0.35cm;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg_Dhr0T5VGhnRwGNRqmMyay_OKVI31NIyhQtnmwDArwLpCUwAvjSdi094C90M70rvVKDjBC01qrNnviF5I37G_F2KJBCRPmfDurLTbM0tfWVhmqtMcjf5RHmyb4q5quKLt8_wenn0Pm_k/s1600/IMG_3664.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; cssfloat: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="179" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg_Dhr0T5VGhnRwGNRqmMyay_OKVI31NIyhQtnmwDArwLpCUwAvjSdi094C90M70rvVKDjBC01qrNnviF5I37G_F2KJBCRPmfDurLTbM0tfWVhmqtMcjf5RHmyb4q5quKLt8_wenn0Pm_k/s320/IMG_3664.JPG" width="320" xaa="true" /></a><span style="background: none transparent scroll repeat 0% 0%;">We tore ourselves away from the hot springs and fried things of Cajamarca and headed off again through the mountains, generally south, winding our way through some smaller roads and tracks to try and connect up with Huaraz and the Cordillera Blanca. This involved about a week of climbing up and down mountains. As we got further south the roads deteriorated until we were on some tough sandy/rocky roads that switchbacked up and down mountainslopes, from farming areas and small villages up high, down to arid and desert landscape in the bottom of the valleys. We passed through small villages and met some lovely Peruvians, including a couple of cyclists (Alex and Eduardo) who rode and chatted with us for a while and an Evangelical pastor who invited us in for lunch and then blessed us and our journey – which must have worked as we ended up with a big long stretch of nice, easy riding on bitumen that we weren't expecting!</span></div><div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none; font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; line-height: 115%; margin-bottom: 0.35cm;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhuXuFhvqwTBVPoizQPs69QFAtR8ou3nI8vGC_3Ggh1IdCMQP14nYAGhFvYQzV7Wrh6GyCs67cDaTOXVMQljqQ1HmmTXZG8r8LiSII6nOOunuA4EGHz0Ex_jSYYZAdNgy2NWc4ryaBfhhk/s1600/IMG_3663.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; cssfloat: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="179" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhuXuFhvqwTBVPoizQPs69QFAtR8ou3nI8vGC_3Ggh1IdCMQP14nYAGhFvYQzV7Wrh6GyCs67cDaTOXVMQljqQ1HmmTXZG8r8LiSII6nOOunuA4EGHz0Ex_jSYYZAdNgy2NWc4ryaBfhhk/s320/IMG_3663.JPG" width="320" xaa="true" /></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjHhN5DAhFcJAoMhceICY23Gw7ESnhyWhNutE_2p9MkfuTk_7SOUy2OWkllMh_l__oWAO09gAj9oSvkh8IOgmtCVt4O6y8-m4encwP1pnpmMfgmMlf0Z3RsPZ1WbYkAf41VYHZONkkuTNM/s1600/IMG_3762.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; cssfloat: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="179" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjHhN5DAhFcJAoMhceICY23Gw7ESnhyWhNutE_2p9MkfuTk_7SOUy2OWkllMh_l__oWAO09gAj9oSvkh8IOgmtCVt4O6y8-m4encwP1pnpmMfgmMlf0Z3RsPZ1WbYkAf41VYHZONkkuTNM/s320/IMG_3762.JPG" width="320" xaa="true" /></a><span style="background: none transparent scroll repeat 0% 0%;">Tired legs from climbing, cramped hands from braking on the long downhills and completely covered in dust from camping in the desert we were happy when we reached a flat section of road through a canyon along a river. Pretty landscape and fairly good roads -including 30kms of bitumen! However, after a too-short period we were out of the canyon and back on bone-shuddering gravel roads, and a gentle climb up through the desert and into the Canyon del Pato with its multiple tunnels (where we had to strap on lights and head into the darkness, hoping for no cars as we attempted to ride in pitchblack, on rough roads). Eventually we popped out into the Calleyon de Huaylas, a pretty valley that runs alongside the beautiful Cordillera Blanca with its impressive snowy peaks hovering in the background. We were pretty worn-out from lots of rough roads and mountain riding and we were filthy from head to toe. Our poor bikes hadn't faired much better during our last few weeks of riding. Norma and Betty had bolts shaken loose, racks broken and were making lots of strange noises. We were very ready for a good rest and clean-up in the chilled little town of Caraz.</span></div><div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none; font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; line-height: 115%; margin-bottom: 0.35cm;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjs3ZNawGkbldudVCCXXJARCXWY_9LdqdZuhKAGvQ7f5AoiHZ9GTs2Tqe9oBPZuQk716RS2Mg6DPLaYE4-T4rJcy3zCAhuXNvWjk7dH05zhSMvXEhyDKOts7p65Z0Z6Zdq903BGUBe2ApY/s1600/IMG_3805.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; cssfloat: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="213" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjs3ZNawGkbldudVCCXXJARCXWY_9LdqdZuhKAGvQ7f5AoiHZ9GTs2Tqe9oBPZuQk716RS2Mg6DPLaYE4-T4rJcy3zCAhuXNvWjk7dH05zhSMvXEhyDKOts7p65Z0Z6Zdq903BGUBe2ApY/s320/IMG_3805.JPG" width="320" xaa="true" /></a><span style="background: none transparent scroll repeat 0% 0%;">While the back roads through Northern Peru were not alwasy easy, all the hard work of the last few weeks was definitely worth it - passing through a creased landscape of mountains and rivers, deserts and forests with great views, quiet roads, little villages.. what more could you ask for! </span></div><div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none; font-weight: normal; line-height: 115%; margin-bottom: 0.35cm;"><br />
<span style="background: none transparent scroll repeat 0% 0%;"> </span></div><div style="font-weight: normal; line-height: 115%; margin-bottom: 0.35cm;"><i><span style="background: none transparent scroll repeat 0% 0%;"><span style="font-size: x-small;">Notes for Cyclists (warning – the distances I include are always pretty rough!)</span></span></i></div><div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none; font-weight: normal; line-height: 115%; margin-bottom: 0.35cm;"><i><span style="background: none transparent scroll repeat 0% 0%;"><span style="font-size: x-small;">From Vilcabamba, Ecuador to Cajamarca, Peru</span></span></i></div><div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none; font-weight: normal; line-height: 115%; margin-bottom: 0.35cm;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi6MBTKzZdmv2fyzOMQqcDFT0F4QX0VMPoMLVOtYp5KD_mHWV1HDvsx5NBLOZbNzNmxdeq_4m2vo6d5HT1pc0OUyq8ks6_iGrVuNT2gqBHpouPW7aBtVudEXpr43DE3TZJRdXOJG1t6-Mo/s1600/IMG_3712.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; cssfloat: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="179" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi6MBTKzZdmv2fyzOMQqcDFT0F4QX0VMPoMLVOtYp5KD_mHWV1HDvsx5NBLOZbNzNmxdeq_4m2vo6d5HT1pc0OUyq8ks6_iGrVuNT2gqBHpouPW7aBtVudEXpr43DE3TZJRdXOJG1t6-Mo/s320/IMG_3712.JPG" width="320" xaa="true" /></a><i><span style="background: none transparent scroll repeat 0% 0%;"><span style="font-size: x-small;">Steep, rough roads from just south of Vilcabamba (though they are currently paving some sections of the road just south of V!) to around 55km after San Ignacio in Peru. After Tamporapa we took the shortcut to Bagua Grande by crossing the Rio Maranon (and avoiding Jaen). Take the small gravel road turnoff to Bellavista (signposted), travel 12km to the river, then cross with the boatmen (1.5 soles pp), another 8ish kms over mainly gravel until you meet back up with the main road. </span></span></i></div><div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none; font-weight: normal; line-height: 115%; margin-bottom: 0.35cm;"><i><span style="background: none transparent scroll repeat 0% 0%;"><span style="font-size: x-small;">After Bagua Grande we turned off the main road at Pedro Ruiz to head towards Chachapoyas and then Cajamarca. After the turn-off it is back to dirt roads until Encanada, about 35kms(?) before Cajamarca ... </span></span></i></div><div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none; font-weight: normal; line-height: 115%; margin-bottom: 0.35cm;"><i><span style="background: none transparent scroll repeat 0% 0%;"><span style="font-size: x-small;">From Pedro Ruiz to Leimebamba you do some very gradual climbing – we hardly noticed that we were ascending. After Leimebamba there is a 30km ascent, then a 60km descent to Balsas, then a 45km climb up to the pass, then another 10km down to Celendin. The first 50kms out of Celendin is generally climbing, then lots of descending over the next 60ish kms to Cajamarca.</span></span></i></div><div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none; font-weight: normal; line-height: 115%; margin-bottom: 0.35cm;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhvnG8JShh82Fphepg_SJMR1Ch7SaGh-Dby7g4rUBJkSimS4orbgFuWH_JiO5fqO4QVoF78Lr_smGxrTqXt1LiDZnhembsvqpCpXi4GW-OODy32_ptLpGiJBmzyRAoYPG7Zz-Mvr0CyrIM/s1600/IMG_3797.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; cssfloat: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="179" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhvnG8JShh82Fphepg_SJMR1Ch7SaGh-Dby7g4rUBJkSimS4orbgFuWH_JiO5fqO4QVoF78Lr_smGxrTqXt1LiDZnhembsvqpCpXi4GW-OODy32_ptLpGiJBmzyRAoYPG7Zz-Mvr0CyrIM/s320/IMG_3797.JPG" width="320" xaa="true" /></a><i><span style="background: none transparent scroll repeat 0% 0%;"><span style="font-size: x-small;">From Cajamarca to Caraz</span></span></i></div><div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none; font-weight: normal; line-height: 115%; margin-bottom: 0.35cm;"><i><span style="background: none transparent scroll repeat 0% 0%;"><span style="font-size: x-small;">The first section from Cajamarca until we turned off the main road is all asphalt (supposedly the whole road from Cajamarca to Trujillo has recently been asphalted). </span></span></i></div><div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none; font-weight: normal; line-height: 115%; margin-bottom: 0.35cm;"><i><span style="background: none transparent scroll repeat 0% 0%;"><span style="font-size: x-small;">We took the shortcut from just after Huamachuco across to Angasmarca – its a little hard to find. Some people we asked told us that it didn't exist (including the Carretera Policia!) and the only real directions we had was that we had to turnoff the main road before the big bridge over the river. The turnoff was about 8-9kms after leaving Huamachuco – a small gravel road up to the left out of a little village. Its easy to miss (there was a bus parked in front of it and we missed it and got down to the bridge -Puerte Yambabomba or something and had to ride back up the 500m or so). Just ask lots of (different) people for directions – you can ask for the road to Angasmarca, or the road to San Simeon (which is the mine part way along).</span></span></i></div><div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none; font-weight: normal; line-height: 115%; margin-bottom: 0.35cm;"><i><span style="background: none transparent scroll repeat 0% 0%;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi-YknKHEdAZrYRUjz-FsOipvA4alKbjNu5TDq-3nwbHOOgmuOZGIcd95UCJ2BYAMfR1f-eLPdeQO-HpjYnFWHPiG2b34ghTc-Vv9PIC16y26nTHD5TVkaQRppZpqvjDohgoVXcUu1X_Fc/s1600/IMG_3817.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; cssfloat: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><span style="font-size: x-small;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi-YknKHEdAZrYRUjz-FsOipvA4alKbjNu5TDq-3nwbHOOgmuOZGIcd95UCJ2BYAMfR1f-eLPdeQO-HpjYnFWHPiG2b34ghTc-Vv9PIC16y26nTHD5TVkaQRppZpqvjDohgoVXcUu1X_Fc/s320/IMG_3817.JPG" width="320" xaa="true" /></span></a><span style="font-size: x-small;">Its a dirt road but quite enjoyable through the grasslands. There are quite a few small tracks along the way – we just kept asking the locals the way, and I think most of the roads end up in Angasmarca. About 15kms in you skirt through the bottom of the mine and then climb up and around a summit. When you get to the cemetery (about 20ishkms off the main road) there are two forks. At the first one go left, at the second one (only a few metres past the cemetery) you have a choice – the track to the left is the 'main' track to Angasmarca that the trucks and collectivos go on. We got told by a few people that the track to the right was shorter so we took that one – but I'm not sure which is better! The track to the right was quite rough with lots of loose rocks; however, it was flatish for a while and then we had a big downhill, then the track improved tho' it climbed up and down again to the town of Cachicadon. You then take the track out of town up over a hill and then down to Angasmarca. It was about 46km from the turnoff of the main road out of Huamochuco to Cachicadon and then about another 27km to Angasmarca. From Angasmarca you head to Mollepata (about 30km) on some tough roads – a couple of steep sandy sections, and a bit of ascending and descending. From Mollepata there is a 10km drop down to the river, then a 20ish km climb up to Pallasca, then another 22ish km drop back to the river (this road was in pretty bad condition – they were doing roadworks on it which had made it even worse than what it was!), then ~62km alongside the river, through the canyon, which is all gradually downhill, on roads in much better condition, and the last 25kms are asphalt. Just before the small 'outpost' of Chiquicara, we turned off the road onto the gravel road heading east through the Canyon del Pato and onto Caraz, Huaraz etc. After Chiquicara it is about 93km of really bad dirt road, some washboard, lots of rocks, gradually climbing (tho' often with a tailwind). This section includes the Canyon del Pato, and there are lots of tunnels – some short but some long, and very dark! Then the last 25kms (after you leave the Canyon del Pato to Caraz) is asphalt.</span></span></i></div>Megsy Dhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05298194015249543749noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7058581339878947488.post-72160731473220978442011-08-02T08:22:00.000-07:002011-09-18T23:13:02.107-07:00Central and Southern Ecuador Highlands and Highlights: Quito- Vilcabamba (13th July - 1st Aug '11)<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjH4T6SX__LvnobacQYUoqqQqHVW6blVQKCZO22XdPi9jIUWoKh-XeMYYJR_y_2m2Fvgo674-pZvPqH_6oMz_Ohhdc-PD8kzUMyUZkdMRZpiOh1yAGEkt96VwJVa8fJpKYNesRTs5N340Q/s1600/IMG_2863.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; cssfloat: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjH4T6SX__LvnobacQYUoqqQqHVW6blVQKCZO22XdPi9jIUWoKh-XeMYYJR_y_2m2Fvgo674-pZvPqH_6oMz_Ohhdc-PD8kzUMyUZkdMRZpiOh1yAGEkt96VwJVa8fJpKYNesRTs5N340Q/s320/IMG_2863.JPG" t$="true" width="320" /></a></div><div style="font-weight: normal; line-height: 115%; margin-bottom: 0.35cm;"><span style="background: none transparent scroll repeat 0% 0%;">Before Jules and I managed to leave Quito, after a week or so off the bikes, we had to deal with our first bad major bad luck of the journey – Jules' ipod had been stolen on the Galapagos trip, a real bummer, not least because we had all our maps on it! We had to look into buying either another ipod (which ended up being way to expensive) or maps (which we couldn't find anywhere in the city). Frustrating. However, luckily our dilemma was solved, and we were saved the problem of wandering lost around South America for the next few months, by the lovely Jean-Christophe and Catherine (who were heading north) who lent us their fantastic maps they had bought in Europe. You are our saviours and we will be forever grateful!! Jules is still now without music, but I have promised to sing for her whenever she desires.</span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgXJNdySiTvTk02BqjhH-idbLt7klwPhytvLyeRgBX8Fle5EVvWWhUJcnQ9xGazcg4L8ZAWnUjv2FGj72E8g0eNSWoViY1klzTIm2rQ6Ke91VKLJilP-dmclXYZAROBpS9acdHEDgUTBuI/s1600/IMG_2836.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; cssfloat: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgXJNdySiTvTk02BqjhH-idbLt7klwPhytvLyeRgBX8Fle5EVvWWhUJcnQ9xGazcg4L8ZAWnUjv2FGj72E8g0eNSWoViY1klzTIm2rQ6Ke91VKLJilP-dmclXYZAROBpS9acdHEDgUTBuI/s320/IMG_2836.JPG" t$="true" width="320" /></a></div><div style="font-weight: normal; line-height: 115%; margin-bottom: 0.35cm;"><span style="background: none transparent scroll repeat 0% 0%;">In Quito we also had to invest in new sleeping bags and a new jacket for Jules as well, as our original travel plans had not included the Andes of South America, and our little Australian sleeping bags were not quite up to scratch to the altitude and the cold. So we had a few days of shopping in Quito. Luckily we could stay with the wonderful Santiago and family, in Tumbaco, while we were sorting out all our annoying jobs. On our last night at Santiago's there was a sudden influx of cyclists at the Casa de Ciclistas and we had a good sharing session with riders going various directions. But finally the next day, weighed down with our new purchases, and seen off by no less than 7 cycling enthusiasts we headed off – on the backroads to Cotopaxi National Park.</span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhhJYX15ChlNmJoDZtJ0q2hmp3MvY2fqlztysxNYT4WEm95bdr0x7YIXF8Vm88JbvKEuSGLTldvCredxHNRgUhrBP4-WQJbR0JSenj4vJNYPGxOVlI2v-dCO_OzCZl-52Vd2jMi5FlK9ME/s1600/IMG_2916.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; cssfloat: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhhJYX15ChlNmJoDZtJ0q2hmp3MvY2fqlztysxNYT4WEm95bdr0x7YIXF8Vm88JbvKEuSGLTldvCredxHNRgUhrBP4-WQJbR0JSenj4vJNYPGxOVlI2v-dCO_OzCZl-52Vd2jMi5FlK9ME/s320/IMG_2916.JPG" t$="true" width="320" /></a></div><div style="font-weight: normal; line-height: 115%; margin-bottom: 0.35cm;"><span style="background: none transparent scroll repeat 0% 0%;">We spent four days cycling on the backroads leading to the national park and in the park itself. We had beautiful days of blue sky and great views of the “Avenues of Volcanoes”. We also did a fair bit of swearing as this route involved a lot of cobblestones- my least favourite of all road surfaces. This combined with a lot of climbing meant that one day we achieved less than 20kms – probably one of our all time (non-intentional) low mileages of the trip. But it was a beautiful route, and we found lots of great camp sites on the way. It was fantastic to get back into some more remote areas and wake up to pristine mountain scenes. We spend one day poodling around in the national park, checking out the Volcano Cotopaxi from all angles and we then set up camp in a small hut as the mist rolled in.</span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgzgyVBAf-uT67USIWSR3b0WiH_7Qqge9Lm8Xj7zXfqd3TxPmA85ff3WikXGyZhbwkM_fVw7c8f_Zid2tZNdWTCbI4JevHExRmYPcPYf2d14qMuzZ8_qPruKLBVv6W17eUBvQIMfGxB4sQ/s1600/IMG_3105.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; cssfloat: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="179" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgzgyVBAf-uT67USIWSR3b0WiH_7Qqge9Lm8Xj7zXfqd3TxPmA85ff3WikXGyZhbwkM_fVw7c8f_Zid2tZNdWTCbI4JevHExRmYPcPYf2d14qMuzZ8_qPruKLBVv6W17eUBvQIMfGxB4sQ/s320/IMG_3105.JPG" t$="true" width="320" /></a></div><div style="font-weight: normal; line-height: 115%; margin-bottom: 0.35cm;"><span style="background: none transparent scroll repeat 0% 0%;">We headed down from the heights of Cotopaxi National Park to the Panam Highway and stopped on the main highway just long enough to get my bike rack fixed – my racks appear to be as allergic to cobblestones as I am. This was our fourth repair job on my racks, always following some backroad escapade. The 5km or so that we spent back on the main road, battling with the traffic made us eager to turn off as soon as possible. So we headed out to the Quilotoa Loop. This turned out to be a fantastic backroads cycle... to start with much of the loop has now been paved so the roads were a breeze to cycle on (and my racks remained happy and intact), and there was still not too much traffic (often the roads appeared to be used primarily for herding sheep along!).</span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhY89sraZ7085PQ-XJPttqHy3bKi11Rd-etwrHnX84GdzP6rGF6TfElAKiYZt7VdLAZJe7nd1oYbAlinNkTgsk601oDIWK6kzFpihxEKTYR4TDgTm0Ymsz4SlJT1FTPbYgo88urBPN7mPA/s1600/IMG_3095.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; cssfloat: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="213" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhY89sraZ7085PQ-XJPttqHy3bKi11Rd-etwrHnX84GdzP6rGF6TfElAKiYZt7VdLAZJe7nd1oYbAlinNkTgsk601oDIWK6kzFpihxEKTYR4TDgTm0Ymsz4SlJT1FTPbYgo88urBPN7mPA/s320/IMG_3095.JPG" t$="true" width="320" /></a></div><div style="font-weight: normal; line-height: 115%; margin-bottom: 0.35cm;"><span style="background: none transparent scroll repeat 0% 0%;">Gorgeous views of mountains, valley landscapes, friendly indigenous people waving from where they were tending their crops, or herding their livestock, small villages, great downhill runs... it was a lovely few days riding. One highlight was the day we stayed up at the Laguna Quilotoa, a beautiful high mountain lake in the deep crater of an extinct volcano. We spent the night at an indigenous family's home/guesthouse, with us and the famly sitting around the fire to warm-up. The kids, and their gorgeous ruddy red cheeks, were also master salespeople and Jules and I ended up leaving the laguna completely decked out in Alpaca wool accessories. </span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhP2su6Lhf_hpAYjivYS-VmLoobj0hBvO2CKihLgdoBvCG5ltMdJ318KBnX4l08hQvfQt0OATBF8SBpx5S_xbbrB-vEbYMAsajYANX3Zbd49kOU8ja3y6oiZNBjSjfbpP1sMcuxeJZn6eA/s1600/IMG_3155.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; cssfloat: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="179" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhP2su6Lhf_hpAYjivYS-VmLoobj0hBvO2CKihLgdoBvCG5ltMdJ318KBnX4l08hQvfQt0OATBF8SBpx5S_xbbrB-vEbYMAsajYANX3Zbd49kOU8ja3y6oiZNBjSjfbpP1sMcuxeJZn6eA/s320/IMG_3155.JPG" t$="true" width="320" /></a></div><div style="font-weight: normal; line-height: 115%; margin-bottom: 0.35cm;"><span style="background: none transparent scroll repeat 0% 0%;">We met back up with the Panam Highway at Latacunga, where we started to head south, and up and down, on the mountainous Panam through Ambato, Riobamba and down to Cuenca. The first couple of days were a bit of a shock, lots of traffic, bad weather and little views, but after Riobamba the traffic thined right out, the mountain scenery was beautiful and we had clear skies. Not that the riding was easy – all we seemed to do all day was climb up and down the sides of valleys, but it was made up for in the beautiful views looking down through the valleys, and then off to the edge of the Andes where the mountains dropped straight into a sea of clouds. You know you are up high then!</span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEimMZ-U6b0MwNR2KYGJYlm5obckYlpTrvlyh1wz1kAIvVJpT3QJhf8n6u6mAUFoHPd1MnRAe_hcvOzCyl4VMsMcyitvWF3l0tSc8Te_jIKAnTl0SV1a2MKi38Lw-IyCbV73nruhvBahxPQ/s1600/IMG_3144.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; cssfloat: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="179" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEimMZ-U6b0MwNR2KYGJYlm5obckYlpTrvlyh1wz1kAIvVJpT3QJhf8n6u6mAUFoHPd1MnRAe_hcvOzCyl4VMsMcyitvWF3l0tSc8Te_jIKAnTl0SV1a2MKi38Lw-IyCbV73nruhvBahxPQ/s320/IMG_3144.JPG" t$="true" width="320" /></a></div><div style="font-weight: normal; line-height: 115%; margin-bottom: 0.35cm;"><span style="background: none transparent scroll repeat 0% 0%;">We had a couple of rest days in Cuenca, enjoying the colonial town but we were soon itching for the quieter areas to the south and headed towards Loja and Vilcabamba. The theme returned back to the continuous up and down – climbing up a mountain pass and then dropping way down to a valley only to climb up again. At times, and in only an hour or so of riding we dropped from cold misty conifers, all the way to a hot, dusty, arid cactus-filled landscape in the bottom of a valley. </span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiIl9mRKf5y7qaz-V15_zQ5IiEgCpoSGubpXQeR_15lvma0NKqq68VTgUVm2AI2G-qGyl_30cQEjOFHE7sLKnh7IUB0KCh3pwWtd0Rt8qJ6_daLXwYsUKOLFWli2VAvxYE9gARKGJ90IjA/s1600/IMG_2989.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; cssfloat: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="179" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiIl9mRKf5y7qaz-V15_zQ5IiEgCpoSGubpXQeR_15lvma0NKqq68VTgUVm2AI2G-qGyl_30cQEjOFHE7sLKnh7IUB0KCh3pwWtd0Rt8qJ6_daLXwYsUKOLFWli2VAvxYE9gARKGJ90IjA/s320/IMG_2989.JPG" t$="true" width="320" /></a><span style="background: none transparent scroll repeat 0% 0%;">The central and southern parts of Ecuador were also great for some inspired camping spots. We spent a couple of nights with the Bomberos (Firies), who are known throughout the South American cycling world as being sympathetic to grubby cyclists and sometimes providing a place to stay. Our first night with some very friendly Bomberos, was luxury indeed – coffee, a hot shower, a choice of movies, great company and even a warm bed. We were very lucky! That was probably the highlight of this section's campsites, the other places we stayed were far less salubrious – a garage at a sex hotel, the field next to a farmer's goose pond and the floor of a small town's government offices being amongst some of our nights' accommodations.</span></div><div style="font-weight: normal; line-height: 115%; margin-bottom: 0.35cm;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj6LC2SY0-UaKorKGxLTHsRevFLVn15cg9Lz4qsZhMiMbvqeuHiCdoB9gc724F6OgDkFomKC2NoEA_Iqrh0HwcEl5zMDfSWF0buEkeHyRhy52KKH2vmX-repzbqqhs62FJF7EPPwtagMIE/s1600/IMG_3268.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; cssfloat: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="213" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj6LC2SY0-UaKorKGxLTHsRevFLVn15cg9Lz4qsZhMiMbvqeuHiCdoB9gc724F6OgDkFomKC2NoEA_Iqrh0HwcEl5zMDfSWF0buEkeHyRhy52KKH2vmX-repzbqqhs62FJF7EPPwtagMIE/s320/IMG_3268.JPG" t$="true" width="320" /></a></div><div style="font-weight: normal; line-height: 115%; margin-bottom: 0.35cm;"><span style="background: none transparent scroll repeat 0% 0%;">However, we did have one other favourite, and memorable night's camping when we asked at a small village school whether we could camp in the grounds. We got a great, safe campsite – but even better – the caretaker's whole family was around having a Sunday night fiesta and cookup. So we got to meet the whole family, were entertained by the cute kids (and we entertained them with our hilarious activities: setting up tent, cooking on the campstove, and eating rice and beans for dinner – hours of endless fun!) and we were fed all the baked goods that they were making. Yummo Ecuadorian treats. A really friendly and generous family and an awesome night with new friends!</span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg4KFtv7s4tk7mUdcx3Ai9NkQFzHzn80Op-lDPQYyKkGEMQj1gbadUY2ZpMThzZzAlcnqObBWJm-ZIMq6yDKCd962oVo3YCct5l0TaphOhT0Deb56YNb1ka0dwfeRqBiZoCyPfGZYD2jew/s1600/IMG_3244.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; cssfloat: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="213" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg4KFtv7s4tk7mUdcx3Ai9NkQFzHzn80Op-lDPQYyKkGEMQj1gbadUY2ZpMThzZzAlcnqObBWJm-ZIMq6yDKCd962oVo3YCct5l0TaphOhT0Deb56YNb1ka0dwfeRqBiZoCyPfGZYD2jew/s320/IMG_3244.JPG" t$="true" width="320" /></a></div><div style="font-weight: normal; line-height: 115%; margin-bottom: 0.35cm;"><span style="background: none transparent scroll repeat 0% 0%;">Just after Loja we climbed up once more and then descended down – dropping out of the higher Andes and into a totally different landscape. We were now in the low hills on the edge of the Amazon. In just an hour of coasting down from the pass we were in a valley that was warm, smelt of tropical fruits and was filled with birdsong. After a couple of months in the mountains it was nice to be in the warmer, lower areas. However, the first town we arrived in, Vilcabamba, was a bit of a shock -Gringolandia of the south, tourists aplenty! But here we finally caught up with Jurgen (who we had ridden with in Alaska) and together we prepared to set off on the road south. Today we leave for a few days hard gravel road riding on steep slopes to the border where we will leave Ecuador and head into Peru... where more mountains await.</span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjruTBWTVvFXUYK5QZMuUYpFjmU4B1Y2R2t2KzyDBNFha1N3KHY_QpapKWpnqxJ47hyphenhyphenxnxfB4O2-SOKFOEwP1l1pqI19Ihxtp8C3t5WabTCSPL4nU0XOkBJu_mnmjY3ZGP5DokPmke6QQg/s1600/IMG_2960.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; cssfloat: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="179" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjruTBWTVvFXUYK5QZMuUYpFjmU4B1Y2R2t2KzyDBNFha1N3KHY_QpapKWpnqxJ47hyphenhyphenxnxfB4O2-SOKFOEwP1l1pqI19Ihxtp8C3t5WabTCSPL4nU0XOkBJu_mnmjY3ZGP5DokPmke6QQg/s320/IMG_2960.JPG" t$="true" width="320" /></a></div><div style="font-weight: normal; line-height: 115%; margin-bottom: 0.35cm;"><span style="font-size: x-small;"><i><span style="background: none transparent scroll repeat 0% 0%;">Notes for cyclists:</span></i></span></div><div style="font-weight: normal; line-height: 115%; margin-bottom: 0.35cm;"><span style="font-size: x-small;"><i><span style="background: none transparent scroll repeat 0% 0%;">We went the backroad from Tumbaco through to Cotopaxi National Park, which while tough, was very beautiful and we enjoyed being off the main roads. From Tumbaco we went on the “Intervalles” - we mainly found our way by asking people to the following villages: Tingo – San Rafael – Sangoloqui-Selva Alegre. </span></i></span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhzLnwEiRVnPSUik9ZbzTnhEjPC8EW3Wl2j9yKjZ-cz0DNoD2o96l4RaOPLmrKxpaLtB5F5qsTYSOa7I9jZgTqNPTgwYBr_NQTcI9rW3MY1XLrXa4tThrxY3KtUWYrtcnqdVDVzSEHiHOM/s1600/IMG_2987.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; cssfloat: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="179" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhzLnwEiRVnPSUik9ZbzTnhEjPC8EW3Wl2j9yKjZ-cz0DNoD2o96l4RaOPLmrKxpaLtB5F5qsTYSOa7I9jZgTqNPTgwYBr_NQTcI9rW3MY1XLrXa4tThrxY3KtUWYrtcnqdVDVzSEHiHOM/s320/IMG_2987.JPG" t$="true" width="320" /></a></div><div style="font-weight: normal; line-height: 115%; margin-bottom: 0.35cm;"><span style="font-size: x-small;"><i><span style="background: none transparent scroll repeat 0% 0%;">After Selva Alegre the road becomes cobblestones and climbs quite a bit, until you reach the high Paramo before Cotopaxi National Park. You enter the park at the north entrance ($2). Lots of good camping along the way – a few kms before the park's north entrance there is a lovely creek valley with great campspots beneath pines and then in the park itself there are a few campsites – one with a hut which you can camp in. We took 4 days to travel from Tumbaco to the Panam at Lasso, but you could certainly do it a lot shorter – one whole day we spent just tootling around the park.</span></i></span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEidJEXch6NT4JvTWOeXYOQX3IA8vR1590azDzEetuUSBss_SBEZUT0qU2w9o2F9C2VBgi3f2u_Wjs8VyRaTjbAMtHuK4EAJCa0XBkD-KY0hoZvHotTlB2lQen4koFIHYummwreFz-8hcXQ/s1600/IMG_3036.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; cssfloat: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="179" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEidJEXch6NT4JvTWOeXYOQX3IA8vR1590azDzEetuUSBss_SBEZUT0qU2w9o2F9C2VBgi3f2u_Wjs8VyRaTjbAMtHuK4EAJCa0XBkD-KY0hoZvHotTlB2lQen4koFIHYummwreFz-8hcXQ/s320/IMG_3036.JPG" t$="true" width="320" /></a></div><div style="font-weight: normal; line-height: 115%; margin-bottom: 0.35cm;"><span style="font-size: x-small;"><i><span style="background: none transparent scroll repeat 0% 0%;">We would also recommend the Quilotoa Loop as a nice chance to get off the main highways- most of it is now paved (only about 50kms of dirt roads, and they aren't in too bad condition) so it is not too tough, but lots of climbing. We did it in three days. Lasso-Sigchos-Quilotoa Laguna-Latacunga. Really friendly folk along the road, and the laguna is beautiful.</span></i></span></div><div style="font-weight: normal; line-height: 115%; margin-bottom: 0.35cm;"><span style="font-size: x-small;"><i><span style="background: none transparent scroll repeat 0% 0%;">We took the Panam south from Latacunga – which once past Riobamba, and away from the cities that you pass, was pretty quiet – we enjoyed the landscapes we passed through and the small villages. It gets wilder the further south you go, less people and less towns. </span></i></span></div><div class="separator" style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none; clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjMETYwrfIeLw1q_-zmlwYrch2d4UTLLhvup8awS927t2g954PNVV_YSCr2OYJPQAOcqmNLIZXy8mIThGqD2oor4u3PviqjP8TZffzMKICFVbAevaqzruKvJlhVlWg8ik2t6XmGtKbF5CM/s1600/IMG_2944.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjMETYwrfIeLw1q_-zmlwYrch2d4UTLLhvup8awS927t2g954PNVV_YSCr2OYJPQAOcqmNLIZXy8mIThGqD2oor4u3PviqjP8TZffzMKICFVbAevaqzruKvJlhVlWg8ik2t6XmGtKbF5CM/s320/IMG_2944.JPG" t$="true" width="320" /></a></div>Megsy Dhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05298194015249543749noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7058581339878947488.post-47157088441999358582011-07-14T09:59:00.000-07:002011-07-28T15:03:04.868-07:00Ecuador: Happiness for the Nerdy Biologist: Tulcan – Quito, & the Galapagos Islands (28th June - 12th July '11)<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEizMAtm5UqSJziTKgH5MOKJUAu81WgL2hb0dd5WiI9HXKTrFhjcEm8rRLCB_kDP1RVRaMbKfRbaEX9zdMvEPdRbzjT5LGQCVy4ANxHJuwtWCF4OYi2Hbca1nGmdRXef5ZHiqcrLjhA0yTk/s1600/IMG_2014.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; cssfloat: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="179" m$="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEizMAtm5UqSJziTKgH5MOKJUAu81WgL2hb0dd5WiI9HXKTrFhjcEm8rRLCB_kDP1RVRaMbKfRbaEX9zdMvEPdRbzjT5LGQCVy4ANxHJuwtWCF4OYi2Hbca1nGmdRXef5ZHiqcrLjhA0yTk/s320/IMG_2014.JPG" width="320" /></a></div><div style="font-weight: normal; line-height: 115%; margin-bottom: 0.35cm;"><span style="background: none transparent scroll repeat 0% 0%;">We had heard about a backroad (on a great cycling blog <a href="http://thefuegoproject.com/">The Fuego Project</a>) from the bordertown at Ecuador up to the ecological reserve at El Angel. I am always a big fan of backroads - it's great to be able to get off the mainroads, away from the traffic and into some little-seen areas. And of course that is one of the appeals of cycle-touring! Jules sometimes needs a little more convincing that cycling at 5km/hr over rocks, through mud, into sand and spending hours bumping along rough tracks on fully loaded bikes with no chance of a roadside coffee stop, is preferable to a smooth highway with plenty of snack-stops. It is also sometimes difficult to be able to actually find the backroads as most of the locals think we are mad and refuse to give us directions – instead just saying “but you can take the highway, it is flatter and smooth - don't take the bad road.”</span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjF7NEZCve1V2b-pESzWjpZcgeRKwig6gXvFa6hYSPOn3Yb6GWnmNG8H_jQWWQsM3JtO9zR6W82_Nf7p6JO69uS8ncadJiyJwETqpmaMpPlZB5PK17lBA3UIuvBNQkibStONSgprfgrkK8/s1600/IMG_2057.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; cssfloat: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="179" m$="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjF7NEZCve1V2b-pESzWjpZcgeRKwig6gXvFa6hYSPOn3Yb6GWnmNG8H_jQWWQsM3JtO9zR6W82_Nf7p6JO69uS8ncadJiyJwETqpmaMpPlZB5PK17lBA3UIuvBNQkibStONSgprfgrkK8/s320/IMG_2057.JPG" width="320" /></a></div><div style="font-weight: normal; line-height: 115%; margin-bottom: 0.35cm;"><span style="background: none transparent scroll repeat 0% 0%;">I actually had an ulterior motive for wanting to take this backroad up through El Angel Reserve: my biologist instincts were perked by the chance to be able to visit the windswept parama (grasslands) of the high Andes and to see a special plant, the Frailejon, that grows in large fields here. I tried to convince Jules that the chance to see a large tree-daisy was worth the effort and thankfully the nerdy biologist won out as this day was one of our favourite days of the trip so far! </span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjhjTJvVlQpAjxE-doTIR0sQSiWJWyFb7SE51PNavFZv2sRh-F3tkvzxeB6xJpeSQc_63P75qjPeFrJdb_DWweDyRXRTEvVtyA90kevDzozBloHF-nSHIRpkd3QW1edctW2Op-G5oYXhBk/s1600/IMG_1992.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; cssfloat: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="179" m$="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjhjTJvVlQpAjxE-doTIR0sQSiWJWyFb7SE51PNavFZv2sRh-F3tkvzxeB6xJpeSQc_63P75qjPeFrJdb_DWweDyRXRTEvVtyA90kevDzozBloHF-nSHIRpkd3QW1edctW2Op-G5oYXhBk/s320/IMG_1992.JPG" width="320" /></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgv4hPxR4M3ypGAf20CV74FSChxjDs-0z_pAfh4NVhXfvxysB3C4iTiJOrhtCCinNrMZcgu7nrOAsoRvJX-9vR6D3KFyVeYZWlReWh4Q8dLVMbWrx7zpzUPRZpgQpsZjJVp9efzL3pyDTA/s1600/IMG_1999.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; cssfloat: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="179" m$="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgv4hPxR4M3ypGAf20CV74FSChxjDs-0z_pAfh4NVhXfvxysB3C4iTiJOrhtCCinNrMZcgu7nrOAsoRvJX-9vR6D3KFyVeYZWlReWh4Q8dLVMbWrx7zpzUPRZpgQpsZjJVp9efzL3pyDTA/s320/IMG_1999.JPG" width="320" /></a></div><div style="font-weight: normal; line-height: 115%; margin-bottom: 0.35cm;"><span style="background: none transparent scroll repeat 0% 0%;">Once we had finally found the backroad (by avoiding all the advice of the locals) we were on our own.. the only traffic that passed us was the car of a teacher up to the local school. He stopped to have a chat and later, when he arrived at the school, he sent 8 boys running down to meet us, so we had an escort all the way up to the tiny mountain school. There we met, and shook hands, with all the kids (35 pupils aged 6-12) and had lots of photos taken with them. They then showed us their dancing, and we joined in. They were gorgeous kids with ruddy red cheeks, children of the cattle and potato farmers of this region. Hanging out with the kids was a great way to spend the morning, and, thankfully, it justified my choice of the backroad! </span></div><div style="font-weight: normal; line-height: 115%; margin-bottom: 0.35cm;"><span style="background: none transparent scroll repeat 0% 0%;">Not long after we left the school we climbed above the agricultural area and into the high parama. It was spectacular. The sun was shining over colourful grasslands dotted with dark pines and we had the entire road (aka rocky track) to ourselves. </span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgUIY9-ZAv395r4Jw3n6uSGEOWpZ4O4ujxdMxlwMghyw2cl2ALr29MTgvPkcSvpeI1O8s9A1YtbhEU5CogISo1Z9XYoP-7nqwDjmNRvNker1Zn1Rre_5Jd36HWQXgWk2s5uH6U0tTYrYBo/s1600/IMG_2053.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; cssfloat: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" m$="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgUIY9-ZAv395r4Jw3n6uSGEOWpZ4O4ujxdMxlwMghyw2cl2ALr29MTgvPkcSvpeI1O8s9A1YtbhEU5CogISo1Z9XYoP-7nqwDjmNRvNker1Zn1Rre_5Jd36HWQXgWk2s5uH6U0tTYrYBo/s320/IMG_2053.JPG" width="320" /></a></div><div style="font-weight: normal; line-height: 115%; margin-bottom: 0.35cm;"><span style="background: none transparent scroll repeat 0% 0%;">As we climbed higher we arrived into the expanses of the Fraijelon , a garden of giant daisy plants. We had views across to the snowy capped volcano Cayambe and to top off the whole scene we saw llamas grazing. Jules and I were spellbound all day, and realised that we have definitely arrived in the Andes! This is the South America of my (nerdy biologists) imagination!</span></div><div style="font-weight: normal; line-height: 115%; margin-bottom: 0.35cm;"><span style="background: none transparent scroll repeat 0% 0%;">We were lucky enough to have wonderful weather to visit this area with blue skys above us when we reached the highest point on the road – 3700m, the highest we have cycled so far. From here we dropped down on a fantastic downhill, with views of snow-capped volcano and the ranges of the Andes. </span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgcJl56pI-ltLSRdyKgIakMjWM7dN8H2mfg7S25epitYNYEhQUll1MzvXgB-GR7AScjrytbSZd8391mIDAAAWCh85GCe8Vn6QcBtQQYBeXftA6Z749iNv3IUKEkvnnTyzqSri-NuwwvirE/s1600/IMG_2099.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; cssfloat: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="179" m$="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgcJl56pI-ltLSRdyKgIakMjWM7dN8H2mfg7S25epitYNYEhQUll1MzvXgB-GR7AScjrytbSZd8391mIDAAAWCh85GCe8Vn6QcBtQQYBeXftA6Z749iNv3IUKEkvnnTyzqSri-NuwwvirE/s320/IMG_2099.JPG" width="320" /></a></div><div style="font-weight: normal; line-height: 115%; margin-bottom: 0.35cm;"><span style="background: none transparent scroll repeat 0% 0%;">As we left the parama, we arrived back into farmland and we were once more surrounded by the ubiquitous planted Eucalypts with their smell of home. From the farmland we dropped even lower into a hot and dry desert-like valley. A bizarre progression of landscapes. At the bottom of our descent we rejoined the Panam Hwy and spent the next few days meandering through a couple of towns, staying in Ibarra and then a few days in Otavalo.</span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgkd031CXPd-Qep46ZYHm97nEKCRfdQiDmgBkt5jlIKjaqf29A3hmNhertZiNdCnX5PverwtGU9M7GPWjA4pnNZxoya5fF4_3U0bJ3KQn80-b88ttMbPb0ubPtZPZBustbwIqzMbMZW4f4/s1600/IMG_2111.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; cssfloat: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="179" m$="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgkd031CXPd-Qep46ZYHm97nEKCRfdQiDmgBkt5jlIKjaqf29A3hmNhertZiNdCnX5PverwtGU9M7GPWjA4pnNZxoya5fF4_3U0bJ3KQn80-b88ttMbPb0ubPtZPZBustbwIqzMbMZW4f4/s320/IMG_2111.JPG" width="320" /></a></div><div style="font-weight: normal; line-height: 115%; margin-bottom: 0.35cm;"><span style="background: none transparent scroll repeat 0% 0%;">Otavalo is home to a huge local craft market, with a few tourists thrown in, but mainly locals buying and selling whatever you could possibly desire. The indigenous people of this area have a very strong cultural identity and their traditional dress and craftworks make for a very colourful market. We wondered the market and managed to resist buying too many things - just a few more warm articles of clothing as it's getting chilly up in the mountains. We did a lot of tasting of Ecuadorian streetfood, because of course that's one of the best things about arriving in a new country – the excuse to try all the new foods!</span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiGuAIrH3qk1cRDf990HR76Sz62jbEhysLplqzImmATlvDm7a4sJN-p9AziRpa5Wbxaixp3IX0Mnl3issnyxALM_p4JvapJhoDkKgUu3NdjVw1QKXW-rALAeyyVz9PoiN9gQezMR5dKHD4/s1600/IMG_2123.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; cssfloat: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="179" m$="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiGuAIrH3qk1cRDf990HR76Sz62jbEhysLplqzImmATlvDm7a4sJN-p9AziRpa5Wbxaixp3IX0Mnl3issnyxALM_p4JvapJhoDkKgUu3NdjVw1QKXW-rALAeyyVz9PoiN9gQezMR5dKHD4/s320/IMG_2123.JPG" width="320" /></a></div><div style="font-weight: normal; line-height: 115%; margin-bottom: 0.35cm;"><span style="background: none transparent scroll repeat 0% 0%;">After Otavalo we had a two day ride to Tumbaco where we were staying at the Casa de Ciclistas of Santiago and his family. On our way we crossed the Equator, excited to be arriving back in the Southern Hemisphere, though at the time we were more excited about meeting some other cyclists at the monument, and we ended up spending a day and night sitting around talking cycling stories with Matt and Matt. </span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhohKG6menzDB-0Oly4rLVz8Yxs8gt2dRe-hgk76AOgBUkaqsjY0HW4C4VAu4RU6jozSfhsL1Ts-A4-4MP78QOiaQjQHGWL2IqXDF-a3Jm3YTHWQlz1Mj5m03yV1SM0mOvx3xFKCWGWqWQ/s1600/IMG_2286.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; cssfloat: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="213" m$="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhohKG6menzDB-0Oly4rLVz8Yxs8gt2dRe-hgk76AOgBUkaqsjY0HW4C4VAu4RU6jozSfhsL1Ts-A4-4MP78QOiaQjQHGWL2IqXDF-a3Jm3YTHWQlz1Mj5m03yV1SM0mOvx3xFKCWGWqWQ/s320/IMG_2286.JPG" width="320" /></a></div><div style="font-weight: normal; line-height: 115%; margin-bottom: 0.35cm;"><span style="background: none transparent scroll repeat 0% 0%;">The following day we arrived at the Casa de Ciclistas, in the family home (a beautiful old farmhouse) of the enthusiastic Santiago and his lovely family. We were only planning on spending a couple of days in Tumbaco in order to check out Quito, a short bus ride away, but while we were there we became inspired by some Swiss cyclists, Cristophe and Catherine, who were also staying, and we decided to look into booking a trip to the Galapagos Islands, off the coast of Ecuador. This is a dream destination for any biologist and it had certainly been a dream of mine. We had always figured that we wouldn't be able to afford to go, but we found a fairly cheap 5 day boat cruise, and figured that who knows when we would be back to Ecuador....</span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj7eKB6QrXCCrj9NSvIr5ktj6Ymoh8G_EtSKJsubiLU1G1GCqrDPOzGYrCRVaHVPmCihzLy4FTtqtBWxbi5jj4P4XL_PG-R-QAnP0_PGX_tuVmqxIC9aWWMHztL2a-GpSoiO5CGJduQH5g/s1600/IMG_2259.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; cssfloat: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" m$="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj7eKB6QrXCCrj9NSvIr5ktj6Ymoh8G_EtSKJsubiLU1G1GCqrDPOzGYrCRVaHVPmCihzLy4FTtqtBWxbi5jj4P4XL_PG-R-QAnP0_PGX_tuVmqxIC9aWWMHztL2a-GpSoiO5CGJduQH5g/s320/IMG_2259.JPG" width="213" /></a></div><div style="font-weight: normal; line-height: 115%; margin-bottom: 0.35cm;"><span style="background: none transparent scroll repeat 0% 0%;">So on a bit of a whim (we're good at them) we were on the plane and then jumping on board the New Flamingo to go meet the wildlife of these famous islands. The trip started badly with poor old Jules having stomach problems on the first day of the trip but thankfully she soon got better and we spent our time checking out the islands, getting up close and personal with the birdlife, snorkelling with turtles, sea-lions, sharks, rays and lots of fish. The Galapagos is everything that you imagine and more. It really is amazing to be somewhere where the wildlife has so little fear that you have to step over iguanas, try to manoeuvre your way amongst the sealions and their pups and you can paparazzi the seabirds without any of them having a diva-fit. The richness of the island biodiversity was fascinating, the huge Waved Albatross, the amusing-looking (and named) Blue Footed Boobies, frigatebirds, gulls and more. Iguanas that swim and some that sit around munching on cacti, sealions that surf the waves, and giant tortoises that stomp about with a look of glum boredom.</span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiMIPPOiwrvfuF7Fvp4S9lgL1xPAhU4bAaQWCcnTP2clYGdY2zosN3w7FBpOviw8tasMoO6qr6RgNcMh4FmluWoBBseBpAIuxuOeV06dQcCcOkcUQUagZV0DhBun-mOeXjSP7rffl9UXSE/s1600/IMG_2758.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; cssfloat: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" m$="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiMIPPOiwrvfuF7Fvp4S9lgL1xPAhU4bAaQWCcnTP2clYGdY2zosN3w7FBpOviw8tasMoO6qr6RgNcMh4FmluWoBBseBpAIuxuOeV06dQcCcOkcUQUagZV0DhBun-mOeXjSP7rffl9UXSE/s320/IMG_2758.JPG" width="320" /></a></div><div style="font-weight: normal; line-height: 115%; margin-bottom: 0.35cm;"><span style="background: none transparent scroll repeat 0% 0%;">Happy days for a nerdy biologist indeed. We were very glad that we had given the bikes a rest and made the effort to get over to the Galapagos. I was entranced by the islands that helped formed Darwin's theory of evolution. Jules thought it was hilarious that she could shout “boobies” and 'I love boobies” without anyone looking at her (too) strangely. Not a bad first couple of weeks in Ecuador!</span></div><div style="font-weight: normal; line-height: 115%; margin-bottom: 0.35cm;"><br />
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</div><div style="font-weight: normal; line-height: 115%; margin-bottom: 0.35cm;"><i><span style="background: none transparent scroll repeat 0% 0%;">Notes for Other Cycle Tourists</span></i></div><ul><li><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEivlyCXpdKxGKWw2-TnEL2_c6FU8aoG4SNcBAL47caK7YrnqGFgqGcjsvAVoMN9wznC72m4laR6Q_5ZeMRLF0yeSG8aUQ1hs9DLvMWInDaVkP5OXalC4VUkLQ4iv8SVtc8WuAZG6_x48Qc/s1600/IMG_2355.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; cssfloat: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" m$="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEivlyCXpdKxGKWw2-TnEL2_c6FU8aoG4SNcBAL47caK7YrnqGFgqGcjsvAVoMN9wznC72m4laR6Q_5ZeMRLF0yeSG8aUQ1hs9DLvMWInDaVkP5OXalC4VUkLQ4iv8SVtc8WuAZG6_x48Qc/s320/IMG_2355.JPG" width="213" /></a></div><div style="font-weight: normal; line-height: 115%; margin-bottom: 0.35cm;"><i><span style="background: none transparent scroll repeat 0% 0%;">We would definitely recommend the backroad out from Tulcan, very beautiful and worth the rough road. Once you are out of Tulcan (about 5km from the centre) you will see, off to your right, a church with a statue of a man with a gun out the front – turn right here and then left at the T-junction on a dirt road that starts to climb pretty much straight away. At the first junction keep to the right (the higher road) but after this stay on the main road (don't take any off the tracks off it). Its about 34kms of (mostly) climbing on dirt road from Tulcan to the highest point, then about 16km of dirt down to join the bitumen at the town of El Angel. Then another maybe 35kms (??) back down to the Panam.</span></i></div></li>
</ul>Megsy Dhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05298194015249543749noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7058581339878947488.post-32138228937013785782011-06-30T09:11:00.000-07:002011-07-28T14:58:47.227-07:00Hello Andes, Goodbye Colombia: Cali – Ipiales (16th -27th June '11)<div class="separator" style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none; clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjB_ZL7khvb1oOpS6qiU2QY2JOTyGuTYn9mA_rs96eMW2Jbwl0zaOi07fkbdi9eNSGul-_e2SV5GI8JD7ZVnufeCtyP3ExKk8T9dEj3rRdaHF8HcpMc912qvYG5LwBsLa_fM5IMnJgtQ8M/s1600/IMG_1819.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; cssfloat: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="179" i$="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjB_ZL7khvb1oOpS6qiU2QY2JOTyGuTYn9mA_rs96eMW2Jbwl0zaOi07fkbdi9eNSGul-_e2SV5GI8JD7ZVnufeCtyP3ExKk8T9dEj3rRdaHF8HcpMc912qvYG5LwBsLa_fM5IMnJgtQ8M/s320/IMG_1819.JPG" width="320" /></a></div><div style="font-weight: normal; line-height: 115%; margin-bottom: 0.35cm;"><div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;"><span style="background: none transparent scroll repeat 0% 0%;">Cali is the Colombian capital of Salsa, and plastic surgery – an interesting combination which led to some eye-opening people watching in the city. Jules and I spent about four days in the 2<sup>nd</sup> largest city of </span><span style="background: none transparent scroll repeat 0% 0%;">Colombia, and during this time we were very happy to be able to stay at Hernan Miller's Casa de Ciclista in the south of the city. The very friendly and knowledgeable Hernan and his family; his mum Sixta and his brother Arturo, have opened up their house and garden for touring-cyclists to come and stay. Jules and I camped in the back yard, amongst the chooks and under the shady fruit trees. Our stay here was just what we needed, some nice downtime to work on the bikes and relax amongst the lovely family and another cyclist, Rob from England.</span></div></div><div style="font-weight: normal; line-height: 115%; margin-bottom: 0.35cm;"><div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgD5eqb2tJDz_aeegpQca95FcU8-q37njmavMHL8zjufaWY0W9OMmHH7xjheXk9ZWMpd6GvoWAdbp7iZVNPUY7WoeTLAv98smAh2WmuW5oZC_Y2E-kzIXVMnd_z6lPIyZspv5H7XuYv00o/s1600/IMG_1870.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; cssfloat: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="213" i$="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgD5eqb2tJDz_aeegpQca95FcU8-q37njmavMHL8zjufaWY0W9OMmHH7xjheXk9ZWMpd6GvoWAdbp7iZVNPUY7WoeTLAv98smAh2WmuW5oZC_Y2E-kzIXVMnd_z6lPIyZspv5H7XuYv00o/s320/IMG_1870.JPG" width="320" /></a><span style="background: none transparent scroll repeat 0% 0%;">In Cali we also managed to meet up again with the Cycle for Water guys, and we were treated to a great night out, having dinner with Joost, Mickel and Siskia, and Joost's parents, Huib and Marijke who were over for a visit. Happy Birthday Huib!! The next night we met up with Jason, who had caught up with us again, for an interesting meal of Chinese (without plates) with some other motorcyclists. We had a little Aussie time, which we hadn't had for a while, as two of the motorcyclists, Jeanette and Linden, were from Geraldton... not too far from our home town! </span></div></div><div class="separator" style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none; clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhRYdQ4_x-jZ5tSaQRklU_nANjUS3Sh4pGiy1kl_pvB08pf0T_VwfnI-tyhWafDWFXBTAWyTTYTR3UzesX_dcneywhaN5Gan-7ulcvTTVPuNDFmNRH_8Y-xNXKdt8QFIGR6tP-3EZt2iA8/s1600/IMG_1875.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; cssfloat: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="213" i$="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhRYdQ4_x-jZ5tSaQRklU_nANjUS3Sh4pGiy1kl_pvB08pf0T_VwfnI-tyhWafDWFXBTAWyTTYTR3UzesX_dcneywhaN5Gan-7ulcvTTVPuNDFmNRH_8Y-xNXKdt8QFIGR6tP-3EZt2iA8/s320/IMG_1875.JPG" width="320" /></a></div><div style="font-weight: normal; line-height: 115%; margin-bottom: 0.35cm;"><div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;"><span style="background: none transparent scroll repeat 0% 0%;">We tore ourselves away from Cali, its enhanced features and the friendliness of the Yule family in order to climb some mountains. We were seriously heading into the Andes now... supposedly we had kinda hit them already, but the mountains that we had come through were really only the foothills compared to the kind of heights we were heading towards. We have been in awe of the Andes for a while now. Especially as whenever we had talked to people about riding in South America they always said, in hushed tones, and with deference in their voice - “ahh into The Andes. Weelllll”. Except for one guy, who just laughed and laughed when we told him the direction we were going. </span></div></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div><div style="font-weight: normal; line-height: 115%; margin-bottom: 0.35cm;"><div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgWpxQjzZSaoQ3i897F209icr8ivJAMnXMh-YfZVGodKTKxq_pgbSdDA6GAS9E0MKwRGFjIunrvtlssvwXcnWGTozJfxAEanOdN0F9VtwrGjGF-ZoRvT9pVGzjfXj0gWNbjKV1IGR4tKYw/s1600/IMG_1833.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; cssfloat: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" i$="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgWpxQjzZSaoQ3i897F209icr8ivJAMnXMh-YfZVGodKTKxq_pgbSdDA6GAS9E0MKwRGFjIunrvtlssvwXcnWGTozJfxAEanOdN0F9VtwrGjGF-ZoRvT9pVGzjfXj0gWNbjKV1IGR4tKYw/s320/IMG_1833.JPG" width="240" /></a><span style="background: none transparent scroll repeat 0% 0%;">The first two days of riding after Cali, up to Popoyan, we climbed, and it wasn't <u>too</u> hard.. though we still needed a day off to recover after! We spent our rest day checking out the old colonial town of Popoyan, known for all its whitewashed buildings, and catching up with Jason again (we haven't quite worked out who's stalking who yet). However, the next day we were ready to move on up, up into the mountains. We were all prepared for climbing, the cold and high altitudes; however, after our first day out of Popoyan we dropped all the way back down to a hot, dry river valley, and spent a sweaty day cycling at low altitude.</span></div></div><div style="font-weight: normal; line-height: 115%; margin-bottom: 0.35cm;"><div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjvLp9bybaVb2Bi4Kq9wA1nrqHh4eE2YyTHkJPSlewUQFClTVyu4ag4Xm9X01cNMsT0bnUWJ8IBZNJsChRb8z9mdsMLiFJi3b16hrUZq9-JZYqVU4zUZ44b0j2-FQQ-qoUAi6bb7s3uJIM/s1600/IMG_1933.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; cssfloat: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="179" i$="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjvLp9bybaVb2Bi4Kq9wA1nrqHh4eE2YyTHkJPSlewUQFClTVyu4ag4Xm9X01cNMsT0bnUWJ8IBZNJsChRb8z9mdsMLiFJi3b16hrUZq9-JZYqVU4zUZ44b0j2-FQQ-qoUAi6bb7s3uJIM/s320/IMG_1933.JPG" width="320" /></a><span style="background: none transparent scroll repeat 0% 0%;">However, after this little interlude we were back to climbing and heading deep into the mountains. The ride up to Pasto and then onto Ipiales and the border of Educador was so beautiful that most of the time that we were slowly slogging up the winding Panamerican Highway, we were too busy looking around to worry about the fact that we were only travelling at around 7km/hour.</span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgkTrOkayAOiQFv4UgYxv5gAfglF5DtX5z39wJSfFqiQAuTujDEI9Fof-SmdLBfVEqUb1hr6lHRSixKUrBNUNgCeDeYwlks6N0640RO1EZEuugH1CmNHks2eRmxa62NZba1mZx2s3rlIPE/s1600/IMG_1930.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; cssfloat: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="179" i$="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgkTrOkayAOiQFv4UgYxv5gAfglF5DtX5z39wJSfFqiQAuTujDEI9Fof-SmdLBfVEqUb1hr6lHRSixKUrBNUNgCeDeYwlks6N0640RO1EZEuugH1CmNHks2eRmxa62NZba1mZx2s3rlIPE/s320/IMG_1930.JPG" width="320" /></a></div><div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;"><span style="background: none transparent scroll repeat 0% 0%;"> In granny-gear we slowly wound our way up the steep sides of the valleys until we were up in the stunted vegetation of the high country, looking at the steep drop-offs down to the rivers far below us, and the ranges of mountains stretching out all around us. We also had some fantastic downhills where we put on all our clothes against the wind-chill, then zoomed down, overtaking trucks and clinging onto our brakes with frozen fingers.</span></div></div><div style="font-weight: normal; line-height: 115%; margin-bottom: 0.35cm;"><div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhdF3EHkuRplj4vndMB1GUPcLSSU1oltI9iYnYto6e6szM82-VefVrRNEMu-wvAvHLx3SvrSxT8LTN-wlKWE-Eo5E7OSOIMWiaRs15PE0bFmJXN82crK8YJ6do4A1oBUkFGkrng6W6ea6M/s1600/IMG_1977.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; cssfloat: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" i$="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhdF3EHkuRplj4vndMB1GUPcLSSU1oltI9iYnYto6e6szM82-VefVrRNEMu-wvAvHLx3SvrSxT8LTN-wlKWE-Eo5E7OSOIMWiaRs15PE0bFmJXN82crK8YJ6do4A1oBUkFGkrng6W6ea6M/s320/IMG_1977.JPG" width="213" /></a><span style="background: none transparent scroll repeat 0% 0%;">And so we arrived at the bordertown of Ipiales, where we visited the Santuario de Las Lajas, a church built<span id="goog_1025861556"></span><span id="goog_1025861557"></span> out over a canyon, and tried to mentally prepare ourselves to leave Colombia. We will miss Colombia, its plentiful delicious empenadas, kumis (yoghurty type goodness), fruits, arepas, fresh cheese, aguapanela (a sugary hot drink) and smoothies – the food heaven of hungry cyclists. But even more so we are going to miss all the amazing, generous, open-hearted, friendly Colombians that we have met.</span></div></div><div style="font-weight: normal; line-height: 115%; margin-bottom: 0.35cm;"><div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;"><span style="background: none transparent scroll repeat 0% 0%;">On our last full day in Colombia all our favourite things came together – we met a friendly Colombian cyclist in a side-of-the road food stop, we had a chat and then he shouted us to our coffee, aguapanela and fried arepas with fresh cheese. When he had left Jules and I got to chatting about how much we were going to miss Colombia – and Jules, the big toughie, actually got a bit teary. I wasn't sure if she was thinking of all the lovely people that we have met over our travels here, or whether she was getting emotional over all the fried goodness and great coffee that we would be leaving, but either way leaving Colombia was going to be difficult. However, with the amazing vistas that we we have been cycling through on our last few days we knew Ecuador was going to hold some stunning scenery and we were excited for the next part of our trip. Plus, I think we will make a big effort to get back to Colombia one day, to visit everyone!</span></div></div><div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none; font-weight: normal; line-height: 115%; margin-bottom: 0.35cm;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none; clear: both; text-align: center;"></div><div class="separator" style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none; clear: both; text-align: center;"></div><div class="separator" style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none; clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjC2VYcKcOZ6pvYmDhUxAEeir_0rU0C2SeD1EibGuqEYpO0Hq18uMlvbNTrqtFzap3FJ3Fox21xi6X7aKy2E0E33eczmeDGhXrfTfwL0XCflOhsIG-tUoZqNvKmxwXojP4-cxI-iCmDbWY/s1600/IMG_1968.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; cssfloat: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="213" i$="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjC2VYcKcOZ6pvYmDhUxAEeir_0rU0C2SeD1EibGuqEYpO0Hq18uMlvbNTrqtFzap3FJ3Fox21xi6X7aKy2E0E33eczmeDGhXrfTfwL0XCflOhsIG-tUoZqNvKmxwXojP4-cxI-iCmDbWY/s320/IMG_1968.JPG" width="320" /></a> </div><div style="font-weight: normal; line-height: 115%; margin-bottom: 0.35cm;"><i><span style="background: none transparent scroll repeat 0% 0%;"><span style="font-size: xx-small;">Notes for Other Cycle Tourists</span></span></i></div><ul><li><div style="font-weight: normal; line-height: 115%; margin-bottom: 0.35cm;"><span style="background: none transparent scroll repeat 0% 0%;"><em><span style="font-size: xx-small;">Hernan Miller and his wonderful family have a Casa de Ciclista in the south of the city: </span></em><a href="http://viajandoenburro.blogspot.com/"><span style="font-size: xx-small;">http://viajandoenburro.blogspot.com/</span></a></span></div></li>
<li><div style="font-weight: normal; line-height: 115%; margin-bottom: 0.35cm;"><i><span style="background: none transparent scroll repeat 0% 0%;"><span style="font-size: xx-small;">We followed the Panam from Cali to Ipiales, fairly good condition most of the way, with a shoulder most of the way. A bit of traffic and fumes around the cities tho'</span></span></i></div></li>
<li><div style="font-weight: normal; line-height: 115%; margin-bottom: 0.35cm;"><i><span style="background: none transparent scroll repeat 0% 0%;"><span style="font-size: xx-small;">Delicious Kumis for sale in the valley after the drop-off from Popoyan!</span></span></i></div></li>
<li><div style="font-weight: normal; line-height: 115%; margin-bottom: 0.35cm;"><i><span style="background: none transparent scroll repeat 0% 0%;"><span style="font-size: xx-small;">We had planned to go from Popoyan to Pasto via the backroad through San Agustin but a couple of things happened that meant we stuck to the Panamerican. However, we were actually glad we did as we loved the Panam through this section – beautiful and we met lots of great people! Info on the San Agustin route is available on the Pan-am Riders Google Groups</span></span></i></div></li>
</ul>Megsy Dhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05298194015249543749noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7058581339878947488.post-55003146253805783052011-06-21T08:58:00.000-07:002011-07-28T14:58:47.228-07:00In the Land of the Beautiful, Friendly People: Puerto Berrio - Cali, Colombia (2nd - 15th June '11)<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg5npAd2Vu0VlCH-kdkMin0zc5SYQF1tBBk6l-kEbWI0FVojDQoPnBLNdGgN6qox7Kkogx2Fcu1VTK4KbCGOqv9MCt4TZZMUZvAoReK_maoTeSqFIk72eL3oG0VAnzLzvnI2vfJCWR8Ybk/s1600/IMG_1731.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; cssfloat: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="179" i$="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg5npAd2Vu0VlCH-kdkMin0zc5SYQF1tBBk6l-kEbWI0FVojDQoPnBLNdGgN6qox7Kkogx2Fcu1VTK4KbCGOqv9MCt4TZZMUZvAoReK_maoTeSqFIk72eL3oG0VAnzLzvnI2vfJCWR8Ybk/s320/IMG_1731.JPG" width="320" /></a></div><div style="font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; line-height: 115%; margin-bottom: 0.35cm;"><span style="background: none transparent scroll repeat 0% 0%;">A few weeks back, when we were riding through the flooded farmland near the Rio Magdalena we saw a sign saying: “Welcome to the land of tasty oranges and beautiful women”.. and we hadn't even reached the fabled cities of Medellin and Cali yet, where the beauty of the women is legendary. And it is true... the women of Colombia are beautiful, but even more so it has been the friendliness and generosity of Colombians that has floored us.</span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiZrrbYY5ojeE-S1gkHiawQt1zHktZhdIguBvaaD8apkicUgLwONURhKZCf9cAmZ4rxpOO0p_S-2xME7qlTzsCdQ9XkrnPwZoU8Bmup_-EbMEQjPhO75dtNixbZ7JPpwwWl-mNqro2KkJQ/s1600/IMG_1696.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; cssfloat: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="179" i$="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiZrrbYY5ojeE-S1gkHiawQt1zHktZhdIguBvaaD8apkicUgLwONURhKZCf9cAmZ4rxpOO0p_S-2xME7qlTzsCdQ9XkrnPwZoU8Bmup_-EbMEQjPhO75dtNixbZ7JPpwwWl-mNqro2KkJQ/s320/IMG_1696.JPG" width="320" /></a></div><div style="font-weight: normal; line-height: 115%; margin-bottom: 0.35cm;"><span style="background: none transparent scroll repeat 0% 0%;">One of the first few questions that Colombians ask us is: “What do people in your country think or know about Colombia?”. We have to reply that when people (including us - before we came here) think about Colombia they immediately think of drugs, the war and kidnappings. However, having experienced Colombia, all we now think of are the amazing people that have made our travels through this beautiful country so enjoyable. We had read a lot of blogs where people had been enraptured by the country and its inhabitants, and like other cyclists and travellers before us we have to rate Colombia as one of our favourite countries.</span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhIiHx_WqFMzmfB6UH8SaGS4v4LQrivj9tUKTrBIhQYKBP8dzrvYjRHuWDTBoarledJInaGb97qkNuB_4_LsjTnd2eyF0-rrbjWak5_URr_zEpBvgf2LZSmXPn6x92_lR4V8MJmQ7q2Rs0/s1600/IMG_1721.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; cssfloat: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="179" i$="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhIiHx_WqFMzmfB6UH8SaGS4v4LQrivj9tUKTrBIhQYKBP8dzrvYjRHuWDTBoarledJInaGb97qkNuB_4_LsjTnd2eyF0-rrbjWak5_URr_zEpBvgf2LZSmXPn6x92_lR4V8MJmQ7q2Rs0/s320/IMG_1721.JPG" width="320" /></a></div><div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none; font-weight: normal; line-height: 115%; margin-bottom: 0.35cm;"><span style="background: none transparent scroll repeat 0% 0%;">The section of our trip from the northern plains up into the mountains of the Cordillera Central to the city of Medellin and then onwards to the Valle del Cauca and the city of Cali has been no different. Full of friendly faces and great meetings. We first left the lowlands and flooding at Puerto Berrio and followed a quiet and scenic road up towards Medellin. We had been dreading the climbing but actually the three days through the foothills and up to the city was very pleasant and aside from one big climb up from the town of Cisneros the climbing was fairly gradual. Again, the theme was friendly people- one man gave us a Colombian-flag coloured rosary, others invited us to coffee and pastries and of course lots of road cyclists cycled alongside us for a chat. One special meeting was with Elkin, a cyclist we met on the way into Medellin who introduced us to the city. We arrived on a Sunday, which meant the cyclovia was in full force. </span></div><div class="separator" style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none; clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg7KshApe7PRnqdyd-uZbYf2v8X2p7u9TREFSubp-y52Bs4RAidmYJwIAnNXDf6BOBh48D6IedCaODd_QX_RWa4OqZ4gAKELCoUiZw-8PgIgSc4xPClnNGE45M8w0XY-KYuLs61yZKu71M/s1600/IMG_1736.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; cssfloat: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" i$="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg7KshApe7PRnqdyd-uZbYf2v8X2p7u9TREFSubp-y52Bs4RAidmYJwIAnNXDf6BOBh48D6IedCaODd_QX_RWa4OqZ4gAKELCoUiZw-8PgIgSc4xPClnNGE45M8w0XY-KYuLs61yZKu71M/s320/IMG_1736.JPG" width="213" /></a></div><div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none; font-weight: normal; line-height: 115%; margin-bottom: 0.35cm;"><span style="background: none transparent scroll repeat 0% 0%;">Cyclovias are a Colombian phenomena that originated in Bogota (they believe) but have spread to other cities across South America. On Sundays and public holidays some of the city streets are totally closed to traffic and everybody gets out to cycle, run, roller-blade etc. It was such a nice entrance to the city, to be able to ride amongst all the other cyclists, to stop for juice and fruit at the little stands along the way and it was great to see how many people use it – a fantastic concept that we hope catches on across the world.</span></div><div style="font-weight: normal; line-height: 115%; margin-bottom: 0.35cm;"><span style="background: none transparent scroll repeat 0% 0%;">We spent four days in Medellin staying at the lovely Saman Hostel. We had caught up with the motorcyclists Jason and Mike again so we spent most of our time with them drinking coffee, eating fried things, drinking rum and eating more fried things (generally in that order too). We had a bit of culture shock when we first arrived in Medellin as we were staying in the Zona Rosa – which was full of beautiful people with money. Its was quite a different world from the area we had just come through - which was full of beautiful people without money. We spent one day in the city centre – noisy and crowded but with a fantastic art gallery where we could get our fill of the voluminous figures of the famous Colombian artist Botero. </span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh88oVsLA8ks8nOgUwCblrOs_R_b3oh8J5YCLs0j0y7GLUpPV6zMQ4mt4h2YdzsAFV5gFLfNtQrysdIx5mULGb3tKYYZ6yGfhyphenhyphenDPwMamjfLQ1kRzgu8Ucn8vQXLhUHF93M_uGgUKbKW7QA/s1600/IMG_1777.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; cssfloat: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="179" i$="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh88oVsLA8ks8nOgUwCblrOs_R_b3oh8J5YCLs0j0y7GLUpPV6zMQ4mt4h2YdzsAFV5gFLfNtQrysdIx5mULGb3tKYYZ6yGfhyphenhyphenDPwMamjfLQ1kRzgu8Ucn8vQXLhUHF93M_uGgUKbKW7QA/s320/IMG_1777.JPG" width="320" /></a></div><div style="font-weight: normal; line-height: 115%; margin-bottom: 0.35cm;"><span style="background: none transparent scroll repeat 0% 0%;">Having had enough city time we headed out, and up, in the direction of Cali. It took us about six days of cycling to get to Cali - through some very pretty landscapes, a combination of hills, winding roads along rushing rivers and then a couple of quick days along the flat plains in the Valle del Cauca. We met more lovely people – one evening we asked at a small village if we could camp nearby and a lady opened a gate and sent us into a cow paddock next to a river. It was a perfect camping spot, and in the afternoon the river was full of families playing who smilingly waved us into the river for a much-needed cool-down and a splash around with the kids.</span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjOanqhNdw-rHyLyHvoxUirSTziLrCSIXMP6ifaZUap7B8rgcIIla5MmIzbIPkRxH98kM-1wfV64bf96xqgOmSF4EwmoIifkg7G1RGXPI2Evd9UEH68ndTwOZAwfmchw2TgeM342cXOQ-k/s1600/IMG_1800.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; cssfloat: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="179" i$="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjOanqhNdw-rHyLyHvoxUirSTziLrCSIXMP6ifaZUap7B8rgcIIla5MmIzbIPkRxH98kM-1wfV64bf96xqgOmSF4EwmoIifkg7G1RGXPI2Evd9UEH68ndTwOZAwfmchw2TgeM342cXOQ-k/s320/IMG_1800.JPG" width="320" /></a></div><div style="font-weight: normal; line-height: 115%; margin-bottom: 0.35cm;"><span style="background: none transparent scroll repeat 0% 0%;">However, our real highlight of this section of this trip happened by accident, and by a little bit of stupidity on my part. We often ride with clothes drying on the back of our bike, as we usually wash in the evening but the clothes do not always dry overnight. One morning I put two pairs of bike shorts on the back of my bike to dry, but obviously forgot to tie them on. About 20kms down the road I realised, but of course it was too late the shorts were gone. Bike shorts are expensive, and kind of hard to come across (the last time we lost a pair it took us about three months of searching before we could replace them!) so we were in a bit of a quandary about what to do. </span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiCme5GZ0UCctjgk68sOyv70wmaWs7bmQydwvjiFMYLYlRg3MXaz4LTWq3HvK5GsC9fm_TqKdsLYbOlqkje18RQj_or2nnT762pzPBUJ0uw36STUU5wCo4QU9QMEgc_ZH61tjngwVXcBUw/s1600/IMG_1812.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; cssfloat: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="179" i$="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiCme5GZ0UCctjgk68sOyv70wmaWs7bmQydwvjiFMYLYlRg3MXaz4LTWq3HvK5GsC9fm_TqKdsLYbOlqkje18RQj_or2nnT762pzPBUJ0uw36STUU5wCo4QU9QMEgc_ZH61tjngwVXcBUw/s320/IMG_1812.JPG" width="320" /></a></div><div style="font-weight: normal; line-height: 115%; margin-bottom: 0.35cm;"><span style="background: none transparent scroll repeat 0% 0%;">We were standing on the side of the road waiting for a motorbike taxi to take me back when a road cyclist stopped to see what was up. I tried to explain that I had had laundry drying on the back of my bike, which had fallen off somewhere and that we were waiting for a taxi to go find my shorts. However, my Spanish was obviously not up to scratch to explain this complicated story. While he didn't understand what I was raving on about Luis Enrique took us back to his village to try and help us. He took us to the home of Rodrigo, a fluent English speaker that had lived in NY for 25 years and who translated for us. We were so lucky that we happened to run into Enrique, who was a cycling-enthusiast and who was actually the trainer of the cyclists for the San Pedro area, and then to meet Rod who was super-helpful and a really great guy.</span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEilv7NF2WIZqSaTI6LtrdeDFhJ2eUtHjfM4MpAyWGO9i7W7rko-vLcwVgSEMFdX96SaSVqCmQnRLXdmWTh6oE-bExUP0maKDrTDiM3W90HmYwOEDuyTzdzTyLoSOnttLeDbbWHC6dj03LA/s1600/IMG_1796.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; cssfloat: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" i$="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEilv7NF2WIZqSaTI6LtrdeDFhJ2eUtHjfM4MpAyWGO9i7W7rko-vLcwVgSEMFdX96SaSVqCmQnRLXdmWTh6oE-bExUP0maKDrTDiM3W90HmYwOEDuyTzdzTyLoSOnttLeDbbWHC6dj03LA/s320/IMG_1796.JPG" width="179" /></a></div><div style="font-weight: normal; line-height: 115%; margin-bottom: 0.35cm;"><span style="background: none transparent scroll repeat 0% 0%;">Well, the rest of the day was taken out of our hands – we ended up getting taken back to Enrique's house to meet all his lovely family, being fed delicious foods and tasty juices. Then Rod found a car and all of us went off to try and find my shorts (we only found one pair in the end but we were happy with that). When we got back from our pant-hunting outing the family asked if we would like to stay with them the night and they were so lovely and friendly we just couldn't refuse, even though it was only 9am in the morning. Well, it was one of our favourite days of the trip, spending time with Fanny (Enrique's wife) we walked around their pretty little village of San Pedro, had ice-cream, ate delicious food, chatted, looked through photos, and enjoyed the company of neighbours and friends. In the evening Enrique and Fanny's daughter and her friend, Martha, took us around town on the back of their scooters, meeting more friendly people and chilling in the town square (as you do).</span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEihHGklNnn11xZAzXA1zHGtTt2M96t1xbIHhON6qFw56gsHcmbAGGBINWVa6LgxPTZYRCJiparyq21iGEnZ1MdweVpsQyOjFRzKXIoCSZApboeX_a30x84Op9p4Rh5fiwEdCp08M4jM-bE/s1600/IMG_1799.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; cssfloat: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="179" i$="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEihHGklNnn11xZAzXA1zHGtTt2M96t1xbIHhON6qFw56gsHcmbAGGBINWVa6LgxPTZYRCJiparyq21iGEnZ1MdweVpsQyOjFRzKXIoCSZApboeX_a30x84Op9p4Rh5fiwEdCp08M4jM-bE/s320/IMG_1799.JPG" width="320" /></a></div><div style="font-weight: normal; line-height: 115%; margin-bottom: 0.35cm;"><span style="background: none transparent scroll repeat 0% 0%;">It was with great reluctance and sadness that we had to stay goodbye to the family and Rod and the town of San Pedro and head off towards Cali the next day. It is becoming harder and harder to think about leaving Colombia and we hope someday that we will be able to get back to visit San Pedro, as well as all the other awesome people we have met along the way. In the end the losing of my pants turned into a great godsend as it led us to meet some wonderful people... though, I am not hoping to lose any more pants!</span></div><div style="line-height: 115%; margin-bottom: 0.35cm;"><br />
</div>Megsy Dhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05298194015249543749noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7058581339878947488.post-86956605958609918202011-06-09T06:29:00.000-07:002011-07-28T14:58:47.229-07:00In a Soggy Land: Cartagena to Puerto Berrio, Colombia, SOUTH AMERICA (22nd May - 4th June '11)<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiFY-XXMz9QU-GEUFEh2BodW3yEu3P-f2akhl3IVRwBWYDxe6CtzdIKhsHksTwOilSJTkBVWUN4f5wzsAn0TvK8PAxwEqCRjpVmxWTmh1yQBXrtAGbtmo6wgVwUy7tXF4DUJHSI6h0moJE/s1600/IMG_1514.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; cssfloat: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiFY-XXMz9QU-GEUFEh2BodW3yEu3P-f2akhl3IVRwBWYDxe6CtzdIKhsHksTwOilSJTkBVWUN4f5wzsAn0TvK8PAxwEqCRjpVmxWTmh1yQBXrtAGbtmo6wgVwUy7tXF4DUJHSI6h0moJE/s320/IMG_1514.JPG" t8="true" width="320" /></a></div><div style="font-weight: normal; line-height: 115%; margin-bottom: 0.35cm;"><span style="background: none transparent scroll repeat 0% 0%;">Cartagena de Indias, on the Caribbean Sea, was a very cool city to start off our South American adventures. The old town is full of fantastic colonial buildings, little lanes and squares in which to watch the world go by. One thing we had missed in Central America was the “square" life that we had enjoyed in Mexico, and which Colombia also has. In the evenings everybody gathers in the town square to eat, drink, play football, watch the kids run around or just to loiter with no good purpose. </span><br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjAJejQ3L5O68hiZDWbmfPhCi4ztxTUB5Vbzn7cQsaLoWYO16MZn3LT5GUriqnQ-_cqT1yLH_4VMjH8oAXsQqNNfRUJkasLo0lhidFpLHV58Cb6dBitWsky4XFBzGgjyfIkyPuHVuKN7Hk/s1600/IMG_1644.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; cssfloat: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjAJejQ3L5O68hiZDWbmfPhCi4ztxTUB5Vbzn7cQsaLoWYO16MZn3LT5GUriqnQ-_cqT1yLH_4VMjH8oAXsQqNNfRUJkasLo0lhidFpLHV58Cb6dBitWsky4XFBzGgjyfIkyPuHVuKN7Hk/s320/IMG_1644.JPG" t8="true" width="320" /></a> </div><div style="font-weight: normal; line-height: 115%; margin-bottom: 0.35cm;"><span style="background: none transparent scroll repeat 0% 0%;">During the day we meandered the streets of Cartagena soaking up its atmosphere. The evenings we spent hanging and laughing with the motorcyclists Jason and Mike, and having drinks with the lovely Mike and Helen who we had met in Panama. Lots of chilling in squares was undertaken. However, while in Cartagena we also had to get some jobs done – cleaning up the bikes after their ocean voyage, doing repairs and trying to stock up on some of the things we needed. We also had to work out where we were going next. We knew we were heading south but that was about all we had decided upon. In the end we decided to take the route that Lorely and Russ (<a href="http://throughthestreetsofanywhere.wordpress.com/">http://throughthestreetsofanywhere.wordpress.com/</a>) and the Dutch guys (<a href="http://www.cycleforwater.com/">http://www.cycleforwater.com/</a>) had done about a month before us – south for a couple of days and then east to the area of Mompos and the River Magdalena. Obviously we had decided that we don't have enough adventure in our life as we were heading straight into an area heavily affected by flooding...</span></div><div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none; font-weight: normal; line-height: 115%; margin-bottom: 0.35cm;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgR1Jj9HxcBWrCUUQ5hB7f0Oi5Aj_1lxGz0-aoFCge9CQfVn6dVZefoHYnnLzpDbKhnJHx3kMUxNRD3Mx1gcFZU44CbndM_Itf3k5brWiSmqQ8N7rbR-wtM1HEyN9p_SF-PeukPEEx08kY/s1600/IMG_1543.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; cssfloat: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="179" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgR1Jj9HxcBWrCUUQ5hB7f0Oi5Aj_1lxGz0-aoFCge9CQfVn6dVZefoHYnnLzpDbKhnJHx3kMUxNRD3Mx1gcFZU44CbndM_Itf3k5brWiSmqQ8N7rbR-wtM1HEyN9p_SF-PeukPEEx08kY/s320/IMG_1543.JPG" t8="true" width="320" /></a><span style="background: none transparent scroll repeat 0% 0%;">When we first left Cartagena we had two days of cycling south and east through pretty landscapes of cows and grass greener than anything I had </span><br />
<span style="background: none transparent scroll repeat 0% 0%;">seen before. We then reached the swollen banks of the River Magdelena, which we needed to cross by ferry to get to the road that led to Mompos. When we arrived at the ferry it was the afternoon and we had missed the last crossing for the day. We got chatting to some people from the ferry at a little kiosk and were given the ok to camp on the ferry deck – perfect. However, while we were sitting around having a soft drink and a yarn the couple running the kiosk offered for us to come and stay at their house – even more perfect! </span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhB7mRkuM1UlDMUtRfyKRAzh78bE1fA5PxutcUDGQiUevAfgisJ_8hVvWF9fY3H6WKLc2rNrbE8KUFNEu3nwd2WeN4HmGZASyFd42uJTwcyyPWEuW1SFGP8_bLN3FgtmEkMO4YF0BIb68k/s1600/IMG_1554.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; cssfloat: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="179" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhB7mRkuM1UlDMUtRfyKRAzh78bE1fA5PxutcUDGQiUevAfgisJ_8hVvWF9fY3H6WKLc2rNrbE8KUFNEu3nwd2WeN4HmGZASyFd42uJTwcyyPWEuW1SFGP8_bLN3FgtmEkMO4YF0BIb68k/s320/IMG_1554.JPG" t8="true" width="320" /></a></div><div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none; font-weight: normal; line-height: 115%; margin-bottom: 0.35cm;"><span style="background: none transparent scroll repeat 0% 0%;">We headed back to the nearby village and met the rest of the family, including their four children, who proceeded to barrage us with lots of questions and stories. Unfortunately we found it hard to understand much of the kids' Spanish but Jules still managed to entertain them with games. They got out their atlases and we gave them a lesson on Australian geography and animals and then they gave us a lesson on Spanish pronunciation,which apparently we suck at. They were strict teachers! We felt so blessed to have this family open their home to us, they didn't have a lot but were so generous in sharing what they had – we felt totally humbled and not sure that we deserve all the unreserved hospitality that we received.</span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjwAQ9-sXI4_iN-GnjaQ88CfBdkqtwKfY5xGthU9gruPNy0t0hXTO4N7-xIZWxm81lZaRRKGxSxRUZclinZIYHyr7NsaLnI9yxrJbezSQx8htLXF8VoJllWp1TUWWFparGKdm8c76x2S_4/s1600/IMG_1605.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; cssfloat: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="179" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjwAQ9-sXI4_iN-GnjaQ88CfBdkqtwKfY5xGthU9gruPNy0t0hXTO4N7-xIZWxm81lZaRRKGxSxRUZclinZIYHyr7NsaLnI9yxrJbezSQx8htLXF8VoJllWp1TUWWFparGKdm8c76x2S_4/s320/IMG_1605.JPG" t8="true" width="320" /></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj8HciKGNQpx0B2RnoDFYDT3g_iHnc8hF7Wy4IVrq8NuhezdcUVaWw5Vy_ZJNZaQVgYEITIN5Os3OkblHYtn91Sj343mts_BEJ7YQcIMuCz2cO0_G66VcAv9awNj2bhZmKPSIRkub2LXzo/s1600/IMG_1626.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; cssfloat: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj8HciKGNQpx0B2RnoDFYDT3g_iHnc8hF7Wy4IVrq8NuhezdcUVaWw5Vy_ZJNZaQVgYEITIN5Os3OkblHYtn91Sj343mts_BEJ7YQcIMuCz2cO0_G66VcAv9awNj2bhZmKPSIRkub2LXzo/s320/IMG_1626.JPG" t8="true" width="320" /></a></div><div style="font-weight: normal; line-height: 115%; margin-bottom: 0.35cm;"><span style="background: none transparent scroll repeat 0% 0%;">The next morning we said goodbye to our adopted family and met up with Mike at the ferry landing. Now there were 3 on our adventure out to Mompos. Colombia has had a very hard and extended rainy season this year and there has been some serious flooding in sections. The ferry ride and road into Mompos was a bit of an eyeopener as to the devastation caused by the floods. Whole houses were under water and lots of families were living in rows of makeshift shacks on the road, as that was the highest part of the landscape. Even the town of Mompos was very soggy when we arrived, but we soon settled in at the beautiful La Casa Amarilla Hostel and proceeded to fall into the sultry life of Mompos. </span></div><div style="font-weight: normal; line-height: 115%; margin-bottom: 0.35cm;"><span style="background: none transparent scroll repeat 0% 0%;">Mompox is an old colonial town surrounded by river and marshes, and seemingly straight out of a novel by Gabriel Garcia Marquez, one of my favourite authors<span style="font-style: normal;">. Jules, Mike and I mosied the streets, ate, watched life in the square, had beers on the terrace and slowed down to the speed of the siesta-taking, rockingchair-lounging locals</span></span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEing6M-vUYPfuoFsGIgD_7BWNfcU5g28zMfIeGc5xbnmW0e-YxQ69PzN5LTrkYwdGLx_XMWtiBf3k1zNVEI6ThrKbNUl3TQrLQS7_UvJhDry1i-B0D2jrbtgd4isxfBmqVXRIBkc3PO6tY/s1600/IMG_1657.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; cssfloat: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEing6M-vUYPfuoFsGIgD_7BWNfcU5g28zMfIeGc5xbnmW0e-YxQ69PzN5LTrkYwdGLx_XMWtiBf3k1zNVEI6ThrKbNUl3TQrLQS7_UvJhDry1i-B0D2jrbtgd4isxfBmqVXRIBkc3PO6tY/s320/IMG_1657.JPG" t8="true" width="320" /></a></div><div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none; font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; line-height: 115%; margin-bottom: 0.35cm;"><span style="background: none transparent scroll repeat 0% 0%;">The morning we had</span><span style="background: none transparent scroll repeat 0% 0%;"> decided to leave Mompos we were woken by a violent thunderstorm, When we went to leave the front gate we were greeted with roads that had turned to rivers.We said goodbye to Mike and watched his motorbike disappear into the mud.</span></div><div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none; font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; line-height: 115%; margin-bottom: 0.35cm;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhk2p1EcfJr_VcmmtjSlkAiX3UuGGs99addPpbog3DHrTOysHmrGtpr0EXkHcohDDT5dbdvFG-KfOfqXzWsYz2LAaIGyRAQG5QqSbjX1dGwrdERJ75cnyv3AjMkSpKqMDOgw9Dh7B7TKIo/s1600/IMG_1682.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; cssfloat: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhk2p1EcfJr_VcmmtjSlkAiX3UuGGs99addPpbog3DHrTOysHmrGtpr0EXkHcohDDT5dbdvFG-KfOfqXzWsYz2LAaIGyRAQG5QqSbjX1dGwrdERJ75cnyv3AjMkSpKqMDOgw9Dh7B7TKIo/s320/IMG_1682.JPG" t8="true" width="179" /></a></div><div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none; font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; line-height: 115%; margin-bottom: 0.35cm;"><span style="background: none transparent scroll repeat 0% 0%;"> It took Jules and I two days of crossing through muddy and watery tracks to get out of the flooded area as a number of the roads were deep under water and had been completely closed. We ended up having to cycle 90km north, the opposite way from which we were heading, to get to a main road. The day we spent on this track I had grave fears that our day was going to end like the swamp scene from Never Ending Story, where I would have had to heart-wrenchingly leave Norma floundering in the mud. Luckily we managed to get out (with some pushing of the bikes along the way) and I had only one fall in the mud. Apparently Jules thought the sight of me and Norma lying in the mud was hilarious... she almost got herself rugby-tackled in as well.</span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhA-KwZPqvNYodswAWEesstOUJcDekHneJucqQ8tvryRr-_xUOrH7vM5fL9wEyd4dp1nDtWatebyWXKPH1Ey7izYWiU52byrLSlPAtuAKVlFcCM25QyNSrgdge-FRohZWtjGOWOsKQUbqw/s1600/IMG_1684.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; cssfloat: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="179" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhA-KwZPqvNYodswAWEesstOUJcDekHneJucqQ8tvryRr-_xUOrH7vM5fL9wEyd4dp1nDtWatebyWXKPH1Ey7izYWiU52byrLSlPAtuAKVlFcCM25QyNSrgdge-FRohZWtjGOWOsKQUbqw/s320/IMG_1684.JPG" t8="true" width="320" /></a></div><div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none; font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; line-height: 115%; margin-bottom: 0.35cm;"><span style="background: none transparent scroll repeat 0% 0%;">At the end of the mud track we reached the town of Astrea. We stumbled in, both ourselves and the bikes were covered in mud, we were sweating like crazy and looking slightly crazed. Obviously we were the strangest sight the town had seen for a while but we were heartily welcomed in - someone bought us a softdrink, others took photos of us, we were given children to pose with in photos and then we got asked to do an interview for the local television. This event gathered quite a crowd. I was desperately trying to scrape the hardened mud off my face during the interview but nobody seemed to be too bothered by our appearance and our crowd grew and grew. We met the town mayor, the town applauded us and then we waved goodbye and headed out. </span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjChPU1stVi4G7sGYHWRIFd0oM9ctGuMhNLwO48hx_Q23XM-uapBl7JMXlhrI9fLSvLlDBQr70WxlLHKsPMhaQ97acHgOHYqvqFmb9-fSDMpQ8pmAeV977HSIUQ_jcORiSV1HAYVHEc3xk/s1600/IMG_1671.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; cssfloat: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="179" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjChPU1stVi4G7sGYHWRIFd0oM9ctGuMhNLwO48hx_Q23XM-uapBl7JMXlhrI9fLSvLlDBQr70WxlLHKsPMhaQ97acHgOHYqvqFmb9-fSDMpQ8pmAeV977HSIUQ_jcORiSV1HAYVHEc3xk/s320/IMG_1671.JPG" t8="true" width="320" /></a></div><div style="font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; line-height: 115%; margin-bottom: 0.35cm;"><span style="background: none transparent scroll repeat 0% 0%;">It had been a bit of an emotional last few days through the mud but it was definitely worth the effort to spend time in the timeless Mompos, and to stumble through the soggy backroads. We were also very relieved to hear that Mike (and his motorbike) had also made it out of the mud – though not without some emotional scarring. When we caught up with him further down the track the first thing we did was sharing of survival stories (some great photos are at his blog <a href="http://www.fairtanker.blogspot.com/">http://www.fairtanker.blogspot.com/</a>). </span></div><div style="font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; line-height: 115%; margin-bottom: 0.35cm;"><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div><div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhfP0N0xS0GY2onpnkh1x4ZcaDlWtSRk0IFgWArDn-c4A8jdCPgX-dQiFptaeh_ZjRdeS-s6hbUJ9sQ_dkX6IU8_D0IuFVUybhh6Pxab07VxIp4BwicZQgZN9rMRyTIcEyzQK7OB8lsp4o/s1600/IMG_1560.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; cssfloat: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="179" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhfP0N0xS0GY2onpnkh1x4ZcaDlWtSRk0IFgWArDn-c4A8jdCPgX-dQiFptaeh_ZjRdeS-s6hbUJ9sQ_dkX6IU8_D0IuFVUybhh6Pxab07VxIp4BwicZQgZN9rMRyTIcEyzQK7OB8lsp4o/s320/IMG_1560.JPG" t8="true" width="320" /></a><span style="background: none transparent scroll repeat 0% 0%;">After our exciting riding through the flooded lowlands Jules and I were quite glad to see the bitumen again and our first couple of days on the highway sped by. However, after a few long days of riding back on the Panamerican Highway, battling with trucks and constantly being stared at by the ever-present cows we were starting to lose it a bit. Give me some more mud and friendly back-road towns any day. </span></div></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi2mo4tvKQS7NyGZQfpipC49Lbg1F6gAcWcFJN0drn47nlBoVttkoAQYNGaRp7M7hcScWRTtgQGImAMw1UwySbKIbPYXYz7QQt_9qKAHedKwulqVop1YtWAYJdptSTosQkvsq5pLDbxP6k/s1600/IMG_1611.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; cssfloat: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi2mo4tvKQS7NyGZQfpipC49Lbg1F6gAcWcFJN0drn47nlBoVttkoAQYNGaRp7M7hcScWRTtgQGImAMw1UwySbKIbPYXYz7QQt_9qKAHedKwulqVop1YtWAYJdptSTosQkvsq5pLDbxP6k/s320/IMG_1611.JPG" t8="true" width="320" /></a></div><div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none; font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; line-height: 115%; margin-bottom: 0.35cm;"><div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;"><span style="background: none transparent scroll repeat 0% 0%;">One day on this stretch I was repeatedly getting mysterious punctures- I would change the tube but could not find what caused the puncture in the first place (I was starting to think the cows were letting my tyres down when I wasn't looking). It had been a long day and Jules and I were perched by the side of the road changing my tube (again) when a group of lovely women in the shop across the road called us over to give us some water (we looked particularly hot and bothered) they then called us back over to invite us to stay in their house. Ah that Colombian generosity! We gratefully accepted and they sent us across the road to wash up in the communal bathhouse. This was a well, surrounded by a small amount of hessian material, sitting right on the curb of the Panamerican Highway. We have spent a lot of time on the Panamerican in the last few months but I can safely say this is the first time I took off my clothes and washed myself right alongside it!</span></div></div><div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none; font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; line-height: 115%; margin-bottom: 0.35cm;"><div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjpLoCgszIKLaiNMD_kJP3d0obYSkTllQkGDrjZzvXGxvVC-dhHp73EFE6x-5NnGxvLbIxVDS7VzgXzyfdMWIs-v8FQrzyl9CA5OOT_Olq4oD08t0SGu73bcdzvkEYkN0Wv-9L_heuWjGA/s1600/IMG_1690.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; cssfloat: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="179" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjpLoCgszIKLaiNMD_kJP3d0obYSkTllQkGDrjZzvXGxvVC-dhHp73EFE6x-5NnGxvLbIxVDS7VzgXzyfdMWIs-v8FQrzyl9CA5OOT_Olq4oD08t0SGu73bcdzvkEYkN0Wv-9L_heuWjGA/s320/IMG_1690.JPG" t8="true" width="320" /></a><span style="background: none transparent scroll repeat 0% 0%;">We spent the evening with the family, the neighbours and a wide selection of neighbourhood children, who once again gave us a great Spanish education and asked us to teach them some English songs - Jules contribution was the ABC song (much to my annoyance when I found myself singing it to myself days later) and I came up with “Heads and Shoulders Knees and Toes” but I got a little stuck on the words after the first line. We gathered a crowd to watch us cook dinner and undertake our nightly ablutions, and we then had a very peaceful sleep in the family's store room.. Once again we were overwhelmed by the Colombian hospitality. In the morning, after waving goodbye to the family, and the neighbours, and some random kids, we headed off back along the highway, back to the staring cows, and straight towards some mean looking mountains ahead of us.</span></div></div>Megsy Dhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05298194015249543749noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7058581339878947488.post-30230749486969133972011-05-26T21:16:00.000-07:002011-07-28T14:55:21.251-07:00Thunderstorms and Sunburn: San Jose, Costa Rica; through Panama and under sail to Cartagena, Columbia (2nd - 21st May '11)<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg85JcmqwQyAIBsw2qWYjVqw0ug7IAftW1tL0o_pTkGWWcjNNW-8dIoFQx7y2u-FCqpSNsdKp27LavNPs_uUBLXmIvOJdqQHRycXS5A-sX6an0G3xmDslUCvIbGvf89DkZiLrL96DXh6JE/s1600/IMG_1155.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; cssfloat: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="179" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg85JcmqwQyAIBsw2qWYjVqw0ug7IAftW1tL0o_pTkGWWcjNNW-8dIoFQx7y2u-FCqpSNsdKp27LavNPs_uUBLXmIvOJdqQHRycXS5A-sX6an0G3xmDslUCvIbGvf89DkZiLrL96DXh6JE/s320/IMG_1155.JPG" t8="true" width="320" /></a></div><div style="font-weight: normal; line-height: 115%; margin-bottom: 0.35cm;"><span style="background: none transparent scroll repeat 0% 0%;">After about three weeks off riding, and far too much time spent in buses and cars, we were itching to get back on the bikes. Even Jules who often has “emotional riding moments” in times of rain, dirt road, heat and headwinds, and who may end up lying in the road crying “I want to catch a bus now”, was desperately missing the bikes and the riding. It appears that all her bluster and tantrums are just ways to convince me she deserves either more beer, more burgers or a day off, and really she is as much of a cycle convert as myself.</span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjjtkpjSY_66QuuVXOlj5EXoyCCAwfDsRYTy-1-Yj-AmeI_LnekAsJ4vW9gOp4j9M4aDKRBciM4Rh7KJFf2fAzDijlHvSN_v-3-_QJLUA8oWvKhFBE_LNdiDcoAuDu_VPr82_x8QxxqxQ8/s1600/IMG_1012.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; cssfloat: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjjtkpjSY_66QuuVXOlj5EXoyCCAwfDsRYTy-1-Yj-AmeI_LnekAsJ4vW9gOp4j9M4aDKRBciM4Rh7KJFf2fAzDijlHvSN_v-3-_QJLUA8oWvKhFBE_LNdiDcoAuDu_VPr82_x8QxxqxQ8/s320/IMG_1012.JPG" t8="true" width="179" /></a></div><div style="font-weight: normal; line-height: 115%; margin-bottom: 0.35cm;"><span style="background: none transparent scroll repeat 0% 0%;">Anyway, we were both very excited to get back to Villas Mastatal, where we were reunited with Norma and Betty and where we once more enjoyed the wonderful hospitality of Javier and Raquel. We also did some more work on the farm, which was a good way to warn our bloated and rum-soaked bodies that they were in for some more hard work. After a great breakfast feeding by Javier (to give us ``energia``) we had a beautiful, but rugged ride down from the hills to the coast. The only traffic we saw the whole time were a few kids on their way to school and a couple of farmers on horseback. A perfect backroad.</span></div><div style="font-weight: normal; line-height: 115%; margin-bottom: 0.35cm;"><span style="background: none transparent scroll repeat 0% 0%;">Back on the main road along the southern Costa Rican coast there was the easy riding of smooth bitumen, nice views of the coast and jungle, and panaderias with day-old bargains. However, this was also accompanied by torrential afternoon downpours, broken gear cables and sweltering in the tent at night. But it was a great few days riding to end off a wonderful stay in Costa Rica.. .and then we were in Panama, the last country of Central America!</span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEimPY_1uzXhRgLYhQxAV2vuEwWzYHTIC8nt1BwzL-Nucm1MOqGXthW-V11SBOdenk3p2oKGDhVD6GcgfLViXBaqMqLUETUMuM-uTfIhyphenhyphenNe2DGbM-7s_8FGB5xCSXmI5PHrwYIh9Miwd03A/s1600/IMG_1115.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; cssfloat: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEimPY_1uzXhRgLYhQxAV2vuEwWzYHTIC8nt1BwzL-Nucm1MOqGXthW-V11SBOdenk3p2oKGDhVD6GcgfLViXBaqMqLUETUMuM-uTfIhyphenhyphenNe2DGbM-7s_8FGB5xCSXmI5PHrwYIh9Miwd03A/s320/IMG_1115.JPG" t8="true" width="320" /></a></div><div style="font-weight: normal; line-height: 115%; margin-bottom: 0.35cm;"><span style="background: none transparent scroll repeat 0% 0%;">During our five days of cycling down the Pacific side of Panama the rainy season really set in. We would get up before dawn so that we were riding when it wasn't too hot, and so that we could actually enjoy the jungle and idyllic farmland views along the main highway. By 9am it was incredibly hot and we would both be drenched by sweat. Later the clouds would start to roll over and it would cool off a little, which gave us an easier time of the riding but which also meant that the rains were on their way. Sometime after our picnic lunch break the sky would blacken and the clouds would open with force. We would quickly seek shelter and wait out the rains as everything around us washed away, drains overflowed, creeks swelled with muddy water and towns ground to a halt (except the soccer games).</span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjhG0yvgAEAldyoGySVdFb-7n6UcO-yiM8EboUKK_hw_9r5E5kGQhPjbYf5yufitzdqOMXLfhtyoZWH2Eby24vIutF5ekYk6tKXzmuLas2VGeQP80wj9gAxP7lJU_xV17xGdfwp-AZZepY/s1600/IMG_1109.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; cssfloat: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="179" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjhG0yvgAEAldyoGySVdFb-7n6UcO-yiM8EboUKK_hw_9r5E5kGQhPjbYf5yufitzdqOMXLfhtyoZWH2Eby24vIutF5ekYk6tKXzmuLas2VGeQP80wj9gAxP7lJU_xV17xGdfwp-AZZepY/s320/IMG_1109.JPG" t8="true" width="320" /></a></div><div style="font-weight: normal; line-height: 115%; margin-bottom: 0.35cm;"><span style="background: none transparent scroll repeat 0% 0%;">Unfortunately the weather put us off spending a long time in Panama, and we rode through fairly quickly – although with enough time to meet some fabbo Panamanians – Alex who bought us a meal and entertained us at our mid-morning stop, Hector who stopped on the side of the road to give us much-appreciated drinks and the generous people that let us camp in their backyards. We spent one night in a horse stables, one night in the yard of a beach restaurant and one night camped on a palapa overlooking a quiet river. The last campsite was thanks to the wonderful Roberto and Arturo who owned `La Isleta`, a fantastic restaurant on the Panamericana between David and Santiago. We stopped for a soft drink but while there got talking to another customer who was very excited about our trip and insisted on buying us our drinks and a meal (even though we had only eaten lunch an hour previously!). While we were enjoying our delicious (second) lunch Roberto casually mentioned that we could camp on his property that night. Even though we hadn`t planned on stopping yet we had to take him up on his offer of the idyllic campsite, then share life stories over some beers with him. Another wonderful meeting.</span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjqbEwfjoJsIqXbxXvtuyoZDyiOcUNYI8AOHTFYbDtZ_b80Ogi_q6TgCYFfNvWDGxonU3MhAExfJx5rBpzxKJpWiWVjncV1e9bZ8iHOHvE27WCyFDb1xUQ0xoPGjO2qsnLI1XI6K_XA0X4/s1600/IMG_1086.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; cssfloat: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="179" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjqbEwfjoJsIqXbxXvtuyoZDyiOcUNYI8AOHTFYbDtZ_b80Ogi_q6TgCYFfNvWDGxonU3MhAExfJx5rBpzxKJpWiWVjncV1e9bZ8iHOHvE27WCyFDb1xUQ0xoPGjO2qsnLI1XI6K_XA0X4/s320/IMG_1086.JPG" t8="true" width="320" /></a></div><div style="font-weight: normal; line-height: 115%; margin-bottom: 0.35cm;"><span style="background: none transparent scroll repeat 0% 0%;">We arrived in Panama City after barrelling over the `Bridge of the Americas`, at the entrance to the Panama Canal, and straight into the centre of a bustling city with a skyline of skyscrapers. Panama City was a very interesting blend of old and new and we spent our time in the city trying to avoid the violent rainstorms and checking out the pretty old part of town, Casco Viejo. </span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhr_O4Kb9rWvRDdmZMCg_SjrOivT-hjWaqxhcK8dTNGXbypEsUX6fFQQJ6dNg91IYKZD6i62fXS4MHY248kqXjamGweKMzny1U3SUxkueEpw0TzxBNQUx43PmlZ-3Z6EG6fCIr37DiAUhk/s1600/IMG_1246.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; cssfloat: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhr_O4Kb9rWvRDdmZMCg_SjrOivT-hjWaqxhcK8dTNGXbypEsUX6fFQQJ6dNg91IYKZD6i62fXS4MHY248kqXjamGweKMzny1U3SUxkueEpw0TzxBNQUx43PmlZ-3Z6EG6fCIr37DiAUhk/s320/IMG_1246.JPG" t8="true" width="179" /></a></div><div style="font-weight: normal; line-height: 115%; margin-bottom: 0.35cm;"><span style="background: none transparent scroll repeat 0% 0%;">After a few days in the city we cycled out of town alongside the Panama Canal, through the jungle and then across to the Caribbean coast where we chilled for a few days, soaking up that Caribbean vibe, and organising the next part of our trip – getting to South America.</span></div><div style="line-height: 115%; margin-bottom: 0.35cm;">There are no roads that connect Central and South America, only the Darian Gap, an area of thick jungle, drug smugglers and general lawlessness. Not the kind of place you send your mum a postcard from. Hence, our options for getting to South America were to fly or take a boat. There are no regular ferries that make this trip but a number of sailing boats that do it as a 5 day sailing trip through the beautiful San Blas Islands, at around the same price as an airline ticket. We didn't need any further convincing and we were soon seated on the deck of the catamaran '<i>Buon Vento'</i><span style="font-style: normal;"> with a cold beer, watching the sun set over the Caribbean Sea. </span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhwPomipqBZOcwkJ_DpxrLJMKVY8JKBb0MLdPWPPL2OmMJXAPh8XrwcwdtPm4AXZ7ohmMOcyMp2ASnxI9cKSccQTc30tiaSz2is4PLsUbfxI3WJJHKuB7dcyIyM6OE_HW9KiNGUt360Xwo/s1600/IMG_1411.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; cssfloat: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="179" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhwPomipqBZOcwkJ_DpxrLJMKVY8JKBb0MLdPWPPL2OmMJXAPh8XrwcwdtPm4AXZ7ohmMOcyMp2ASnxI9cKSccQTc30tiaSz2is4PLsUbfxI3WJJHKuB7dcyIyM6OE_HW9KiNGUt360Xwo/s320/IMG_1411.JPG" t8="true" width="320" /></a></div><div style="line-height: 115%; margin-bottom: 0.35cm;"><span style="font-style: normal;">We had heard some bad stories about crowded boats, lack of food, bad water etcetc. But we somehow managed to find a beautiful catamaran with a great Captain and a fantastic Italian chef! We had some great company as well – the other guests were Tank, a keen traveller and cycle-tourist, and Jason and Mike two very funny Tennessee motorcyclists who had ridden their old `74 Hondas down from the states. We were possibly the scabbiest group of travellers the Captain had ever had on the boat, complete with dirty bikes and smelly clothes. </span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgO-SZyjJdtLCEUAtupjb-UBnZjByy_wpDZ_2VnRu3Ye7gWDryFBguVuaBEYvXVVGANEbhcMBCoDnayqQByV50lboUxd_S1HLE8fCGEsXcNw8IZiSaJfgwxyclueKNgxG5x4Hd2ztkY7BQ/s1600/IMG_1306.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; cssfloat: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgO-SZyjJdtLCEUAtupjb-UBnZjByy_wpDZ_2VnRu3Ye7gWDryFBguVuaBEYvXVVGANEbhcMBCoDnayqQByV50lboUxd_S1HLE8fCGEsXcNw8IZiSaJfgwxyclueKNgxG5x4Hd2ztkY7BQ/s320/IMG_1306.JPG" t8="true" width="179" /></a></div><div style="line-height: 115%; margin-bottom: 0.35cm;"><span style="font-style: normal;">We weren't sure how we had all managed to get on a luxury boat being spoilt in fantastic Italian style! </span>However, we quickly got used to the lifestyle and spent the days travelling from Panama to Colombia sharing bike stories, laughing, chilling, snorkeling on fantastic reefs, swimming in crystal blue waters, visiting islands and eating our own body-weight in pasta. There may have also been rum-drinking and a caped motorcyclist dancing around the boat... but the memory gets a little foggy there. </div><div style="line-height: 115%; margin-bottom: 0.35cm;">A fine way to arrive in South America.. a whole new continent and more adventures to be had.</div><div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none; line-height: 115%; margin-bottom: 0.35cm;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiwGJnntCLizTl0Hrff76Q71jY2BLW8AhIewl4zOxK7zqVVViy94x7ytfWiFemeIFQ9xctWL9Pn72A77DUrJAaD5_fowRMgxQSmx7XQUCFT-M9qlJ92vtaCJEA27_zXM7lcvEkJ6lG0WQo/s1600/IMG_1447.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; cssfloat: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="213" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiwGJnntCLizTl0Hrff76Q71jY2BLW8AhIewl4zOxK7zqVVViy94x7ytfWiFemeIFQ9xctWL9Pn72A77DUrJAaD5_fowRMgxQSmx7XQUCFT-M9qlJ92vtaCJEA27_zXM7lcvEkJ6lG0WQo/s320/IMG_1447.JPG" t8="true" width="320" /></a><br />
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And for anyone wanting a yacht between Panama and Cartagena, Colombia we can definitely recommend Captain Eduardo on the <em>Buon Vento: </em><a href="mailto:info@catcharter.eu">info@catcharter.eu</a> 6530 0444 </div>Megsy Dhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05298194015249543749noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7058581339878947488.post-48070724888238596142011-05-13T19:37:00.000-07:002012-03-04T22:26:16.266-08:00Cuba: Patria o Muerte; (22nd April-1st May '11)<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiLwQgHweXoJIgOrx7kkV0D8dT7ZdL1YGNrCscTjJH9bu2_5L5opnjRvRRTOhWn4omvK5jU626-dsALtqKF1NwrYslR882e_G484DeY8agSasKU8WCEGJjcncFmIDMeSm1CkKSxx_koyG4/s1600/IMG_0661.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; cssfloat: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="213" j8="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiLwQgHweXoJIgOrx7kkV0D8dT7ZdL1YGNrCscTjJH9bu2_5L5opnjRvRRTOhWn4omvK5jU626-dsALtqKF1NwrYslR882e_G484DeY8agSasKU8WCEGJjcncFmIDMeSm1CkKSxx_koyG4/s320/IMG_0661.JPG" width="320" /></a></div><div style="font-weight: normal; line-height: 115%; margin-bottom: 0.35cm;"><span style="background: none transparent scroll repeat 0% 0%;">I knew we were in for some interesting times when Jules ordered her first Cuban rum mid-air, on-route to Havana, at 10.30 in the morning. She insisted that drinking in the morning was acceptable if it was a cultural experience. This pretty much set the scene for our 10-day sojourn, lots of eating, drinking of rum and `soaking up the atmosphere`.</span></div><div style="font-weight: normal; line-height: 115%; margin-bottom: 0.35cm;"><div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;"><span style="background: none transparent scroll repeat 0% 0%;">We weren't even quite sure how Cuba had ended up on our travel plans. Last time we checked we were cycling from Alaska to Argentina, but on a bit of a whim we had stored the bikes and found ourselves a cheap plane ticket across the Caribbean Sea. One of the things I love about travelling by bicycle is being able to avoid motorised transport, and particularly aeroplanes, as much as possible. However, a few things led us in the direction of Cuba: we spoke to a traveller who had raved about how fantastic it was, we had the opportunity to gatecrash the travel plans of some friends that were heading there and we realised that a chance to visit Cuba was not going to come along again in a hurry. </span></div></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div><div style="font-weight: normal; line-height: 115%; margin-bottom: 0.35cm;"><div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEidcaH9xnEebV-afgXFX_GeObpfWutHt8o9vmz4-AfdKnyyoIrkIlhw_E3v6TMDbxjyhcpmKbIDvnEg5cix7-VEHkuiHU_80pxA8qyiLbPhl0sLtKM0of127fH3W5YWTISJt1pVFIMxr9Y/s1600/IMG_0488.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; cssfloat: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="213" j8="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEidcaH9xnEebV-afgXFX_GeObpfWutHt8o9vmz4-AfdKnyyoIrkIlhw_E3v6TMDbxjyhcpmKbIDvnEg5cix7-VEHkuiHU_80pxA8qyiLbPhl0sLtKM0of127fH3W5YWTISJt1pVFIMxr9Y/s320/IMG_0488.JPG" width="320" /></a><span style="background: none transparent scroll repeat 0% 0%;">Our spontaneous ten-day trip through Cuba turned out to be a brilliant decision as it was a fascinating, place and it was great fun to travel it with our friends Tash and Elli. Tash and Elli were also our saviours as they did a bunch of running around Vancouver before they left, bringing us some much needed supplies. We are reaching the stage in our trip where a lot of our equipment has had enough of its overuse and has given up the ghost and so we were incredibly grateful to receive a care package of bike bits and a much needed new camera.</span></div></div><div class="separator" style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none; clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh1gPkbOVNy3oss-ciYRAJmaEq9bIWGOCTrNhOvwqIiu5E43zZTFZaDpOc2QD2h4_wEP-g_TrXDIK5vT74nJxQAcgEfYdZz33zABPoj24hWj7DSZrwzOSLksyN6_6u3hB_1b5EKquc-Vx0/s1600/IMG_0703.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; cssfloat: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="179" j8="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh1gPkbOVNy3oss-ciYRAJmaEq9bIWGOCTrNhOvwqIiu5E43zZTFZaDpOc2QD2h4_wEP-g_TrXDIK5vT74nJxQAcgEfYdZz33zABPoj24hWj7DSZrwzOSLksyN6_6u3hB_1b5EKquc-Vx0/s320/IMG_0703.JPG" width="320" /></a></div> C<span style="background: none transparent scroll repeat 0% 0%;">uba has such a fascinating history, from colonial times through the revolution and during the last 50+ years of communism. In our time there we visited the great colonial cities of Havana, Trinidad and Cienfuegos; had some beach time along the palm-fringed southern coast and had a massive dose of Che at the historically important Santa Clara. We thoroughly enjoyed all the places we visited but really fell in love with ``La Habana``. Havana is everything that you imagined and more. It is filled with colonial grandeur, both restored impressive old buildings and the atmospheric bedraggled buildings that have so much history in all their sags. There is music all around, life lived out on the streets and of course all the classic old cars that were a tourist sight in themselves.</span><br />
<div style="font-weight: normal; line-height: 115%; margin-bottom: 0.35cm;"><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhHsKJoD8jx-tb-ulJjzA4yzV1vbaBQ_Z1guuziw7W4FOY_uDz2wzBMd47labCgak2nH2oRTN0lAzYg7xAk08gqqLy4sewNKl8hXmg2iYMvyNUVwhiKFdyJyna8kCXoCPRt8RBF3s2gtss/s1600/IMG_0404.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; cssfloat: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="179" j8="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhHsKJoD8jx-tb-ulJjzA4yzV1vbaBQ_Z1guuziw7W4FOY_uDz2wzBMd47labCgak2nH2oRTN0lAzYg7xAk08gqqLy4sewNKl8hXmg2iYMvyNUVwhiKFdyJyna8kCXoCPRt8RBF3s2gtss/s320/IMG_0404.JPG" width="320" /></a></div><br />
<span style="background: none transparent scroll repeat 0% 0%;">On our first day in Cuba we meet a Cuban named Ray and his beat-up vehicle, which quickly became our personal taxi. He offered to taxi us around the island for the same price as it would cost us on the bus. We were very happy to be driven around, though at times putting up with his blasting Cuban Reggaeton music, while trying to interpret his yelled Spanish was almost too much to bear. The car also required a push-start to get it going - but anything that we didn't have to peddle seemed like luxury to us! </span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEidwTSuK20FPo2JIi7CaepEsiLV3f2xLJsfUnMsb4OopswArzWt_LnSZX5HtiAXVCzQOlQPSKa9ritFMwR4QJDPK1GRa-uLakBPEsiAdvRAB3cKN89bASIeG0LouMXn2ugYFjo7etdhiUM/s1600/IMG_0881.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; cssfloat: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="213" j8="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEidwTSuK20FPo2JIi7CaepEsiLV3f2xLJsfUnMsb4OopswArzWt_LnSZX5HtiAXVCzQOlQPSKa9ritFMwR4QJDPK1GRa-uLakBPEsiAdvRAB3cKN89bASIeG0LouMXn2ugYFjo7etdhiUM/s320/IMG_0881.JPG" width="320" /></a></div><div style="font-weight: normal; line-height: 115%; margin-bottom: 0.35cm;"><span style="background: none transparent scroll repeat 0% 0%;">Even while Cuba still retains the majority of its communist systems there are a number of ways (such as Ray and his `taxi`) that you can see homemade capitalism at work. The government has also created the `Casa Particular`network of houses where people can rent out 1 or 2 rooms to tourists. We stayed in these almost the entire way and were warmly welcomed into our hosts` homes.</span></div><div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none; font-weight: normal; line-height: 115%; margin-bottom: 0.35cm;"><div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;"><br />
</div><div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;"><span style="background: none transparent scroll repeat 0% 0%;">However, we did spend one night at an all-inclusive beach h</span>otel – Tash and Elli had spent many an hour explaining the all-inclusive <a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjqHN5a4e6AEBYvyz-hmMon3R3ttZdbZpr_eGXBvHSa4jdul3o0sPjuDLM8nouoFF6_FRRMYsthl3GMZzUQshCxn8D6ntCOFjSqxjT6wYZRo5mawdI4206oK04ylKyHbReAN4xriqiQXPc/s1600/IMG_0357.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; cssfloat: right; cssfloat: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="179" j8="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjqHN5a4e6AEBYvyz-hmMon3R3ttZdbZpr_eGXBvHSa4jdul3o0sPjuDLM8nouoFF6_FRRMYsthl3GMZzUQshCxn8D6ntCOFjSqxjT6wYZRo5mawdI4206oK04ylKyHbReAN4xriqiQXPc/s320/IMG_0357.JPG" width="320" /></a>concept to us (“Yes but are the snacks free?” “How about the drinks?” “Surely not the cocktails?”) and they finally decided that they had to show us one. On a whim we managed to book into a cheap, cargo-ship resembling, all-inclusive on the beautiful beach of Playa Ancon. Jules and I were like chickens with their heads cut off, and we didn't know what to eat or drink first! Its hard to explain to non-cyclists quite what a buffet means to someone who spends 6+ hours on a bike each day - but basically it is our equivalent of heaven. </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh3KiXIqE-5-KsBDqg2okuowMvnNeylAUTherzq35pOHWLdNJpxrfvnEZkFJFiU3MQWF7YNNhWvGLVfpkxTLumFl5Bm4APC566KClPbp_8JjHn0VmSKBnoL3R-N1hZht65cU5PDL3_n7uo/s1600/IMG_0853.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; cssfloat: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="179" j8="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh3KiXIqE-5-KsBDqg2okuowMvnNeylAUTherzq35pOHWLdNJpxrfvnEZkFJFiU3MQWF7YNNhWvGLVfpkxTLumFl5Bm4APC566KClPbp_8JjHn0VmSKBnoL3R-N1hZht65cU5PDL3_n7uo/s320/IMG_0853.JPG" width="320" /></a>Most days while we are riding along (and particularly on the tough days) I go into a little daydream where we are shown a table with all the food and drink I could possibly imagine and told to “go for it”. Well, in Cuba this little dream came true for us. At the all-inclusive there were buffet restaurants, a-la carte restaurants and snack bars, and we were allowed to eat and drink whatever we wanted! We took full advantage of this.... though we did realise we had reached a low point when, after we had just had a delicious seafood dinner in the a-la carte restaurant (yes thats included too), we went and hit up the buffet dinner as well, heaping up our plates for a second dinner.</div></div><div style="font-weight: normal; line-height: 115%; margin-bottom: 0.35cm;"><div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgqIgDgwLCJDWOY2hVwPf_qHyLscF2lbKpWUewko4R3H4ZNWBckZwya_ZW2qsohW4aN8Ai3MOQn_xrbZz4GNyevGhSuKrbz75JbOp57A4s7-OcUw5GM_VnaETvVVTuY_bM3O0UAOhHqwAs/s1600/IMG_0173.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; cssfloat: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" j8="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgqIgDgwLCJDWOY2hVwPf_qHyLscF2lbKpWUewko4R3H4ZNWBckZwya_ZW2qsohW4aN8Ai3MOQn_xrbZz4GNyevGhSuKrbz75JbOp57A4s7-OcUw5GM_VnaETvVVTuY_bM3O0UAOhHqwAs/s320/IMG_0173.JPG" width="179" /></a><span style="background: none transparent scroll repeat 0% 0%;">Of course, being slightly hyperactive we couldn't sit still for too long rubbing our stomachs and belching appreciatively, we had to hit up the sports and exercise activities (yes they are free too!). We played some tennis, some pool volleyball, a spot of pingpong, did some snorkeling, some synchronised swimming in the hotel pool and then tried to re-enact the water scene from dirty dancing – which didn't work out so well.. Tash and Elli were given the role of the Swayze but unfortunately, while Jules and I may look skinny from all our riding, we had managed to store a great weight of icecream from the desert buffet in our bellies and our music montage looked neither effortless nor graceful.</span></div></div><div style="font-weight: normal; line-height: 115%; margin-bottom: 0.35cm;"><div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;"><span style="background: none transparent scroll repeat 0% 0%;">I think the whole hotel was very relieved that we could only afford one night in the hotel and that they could get rid of the scruffy cyclists who raced from tennis court to buffet to pool to snack bar to beach to bar, leaping in excitement and randomly shouting “Its all free!!”. Of course we managed to store our bags on the last day and sneak back in for one last shot at the lunch buffet and a stack of cocktails. But finally we had to tear ourselves away from the cyclists' wet dream and head back to the culture, music and colour that is Cuba.</span></div></div><div style="font-weight: normal; line-height: 115%; margin-bottom: 0.35cm;"><div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgOnzRwSQ34woHqmvU-d0WQ3wMBDttQTiLoSwCdjvpVte93czZEXNUdgqpOs4aO-0zlarwUfV-QzFu8IvZLaCAO3V2Yrrl2Mh7bsrEd83T1YQOJ3z9TC-iIg6Gza8bdGiaj4efahz8ipf0/s1600/IMG_0919.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; cssfloat: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" j8="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgOnzRwSQ34woHqmvU-d0WQ3wMBDttQTiLoSwCdjvpVte93czZEXNUdgqpOs4aO-0zlarwUfV-QzFu8IvZLaCAO3V2Yrrl2Mh7bsrEd83T1YQOJ3z9TC-iIg6Gza8bdGiaj4efahz8ipf0/s320/IMG_0919.JPG" width="213" /></a><span style="background: none transparent scroll repeat 0% 0%;">Cuba is such an unusual country – colonial history, Caribbean culture and a fantastic arts scene are just a few elements. There is also the impact from years of communism, the American trade embargo and the collapse of their main trading partner and backer, the Soviet Union. Cubans have been through some very tough times, and have become masters of making do and reuse. This really opens your eyes to exactly how much we waste (and makes the all-inclusive hotel seem like another world). In Cuba people make very little money, and there is a lack of things that we take for granted, such as food on the supermarket shelves and free speech. However, Cubans can also take for granted a number of essentials that the government provides, such as education and health care. There is also a great appreciation and government support for a number of the things that I love. For instance I spent less than $1 in one state bookshop and came out with three new books. And then we spend a fantastic night at a local live music venue where the entrance cost us only 8 cents each. This night was my favourite in all of Cuba, fantastic original Cuban music, with an eclectic, packed and appreciative crowd all in the setting of an old roofless building, shaded by trees growing out of the ruined building. </span></div></div><div style="font-weight: normal; line-height: 115%; margin-bottom: 0.35cm;"><div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgcA5TybQcrpYXbLCaetJ-mnhMOQxFB5gOXajqO2OE_Fr2iWbmNIQpIrgPew6mPoEd-XPFKCe_XpTuEgvSuENDDeuYFtmMgcCEq7IKWF5yN3OQsWz62ZqN7ana9cR7uL3s1kDQQYKFOlQs/s1600/IMG_0794.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; cssfloat: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="179" j8="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgcA5TybQcrpYXbLCaetJ-mnhMOQxFB5gOXajqO2OE_Fr2iWbmNIQpIrgPew6mPoEd-XPFKCe_XpTuEgvSuENDDeuYFtmMgcCEq7IKWF5yN3OQsWz62ZqN7ana9cR7uL3s1kDQQYKFOlQs/s320/IMG_0794.JPG" width="320" /></a><span style="background: none transparent scroll repeat 0% 0%;">Cubans are fiercely proud of their country, and rightly-so as it is an amazing place. However, while we heard many positive attitudes towards their government we also had people raise a number of issues with us. I think the next few years will be some very interesting years for Cuba and her people. </span><br />
<span style="background: none transparent scroll repeat 0% 0%;">I certainly hope to get back and visit, as Cuba is now under my skin! </span></div></div><div style="font-weight: normal; line-height: 115%; margin-bottom: 0.35cm;"><div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;"><span style="background: none transparent scroll repeat 0% 0%;">And last but not least ..Cuba has provided me with some new material from our experience in the all-inclusive that will make my bicycle daydreams even more realistic...mmm desert buffet....</span></div></div><div class="separator" style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none; clear: both; text-align: center;"></div>Megsy Dhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05298194015249543749noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7058581339878947488.post-18979881288735901382011-04-21T22:34:00.000-07:002011-05-13T16:56:57.403-07:00Pura Vida in Costa Rica: Nicaraguan border – San Jose (5th - 21st April '11)<div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none; font-weight: normal; line-height: 115%; margin-bottom: 0.35cm;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhTalO9JbWGizML5V22A3tX0DDNHw8v1i2kCK4hPQAqtG_awc3XORopsdO6PUyLXJwodTYuxIY3u3l-AjNh63fChkdGUUGFBY89MYCc_vT__LkES_3GH6Fr7pLUmupviD7RPS4k9Q7bW2g/s1600/IMG_0198.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; cssfloat: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" i8="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhTalO9JbWGizML5V22A3tX0DDNHw8v1i2kCK4hPQAqtG_awc3XORopsdO6PUyLXJwodTYuxIY3u3l-AjNh63fChkdGUUGFBY89MYCc_vT__LkES_3GH6Fr7pLUmupviD7RPS4k9Q7bW2g/s320/IMG_0198.JPG" width="320" /></a><span style="background: none transparent scroll repeat 0% 0%;">Possibly my favourite food of all time (though its claim to the title has been challenged by my recent discovery of cinnamon rolls) is mangoes. In Costa Rica I reached mango heaven. Dripping mango trees lined the side of the road, we camped beneath them (and gathered their bounty in the morning) and we were given presents of mangoes by numerous people that we met.</span></div><div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none; font-weight: normal; line-height: 115%; margin-bottom: 0.35cm;"><span style="background: none transparent scroll repeat 0% 0%;">However, besides the mango treasure trove, the first few days of cycling in Costa Rica were a bit tough – headwinds, heat and harsh traffic along the Panamericana Highway. However, we met lots of lovely hospitable people, and the busy traffic was soon forgotten once we turned off the busy highway to hit some lovely quiet and scenic backroads.</span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjxmpjEqLhy05z4E1GlCZTgPYP3k6-tqN64dC4PqDauioMQlvS4GNi1G-_s_qxB3VuoE_lxb6l1-4BwifmLukFWRYmDFe-RzzL34sq-U5mrsKBPylMPFao2mLPgwDE4aMvlCam6XTG33Hw/s1600/P4130530.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; cssfloat: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" i8="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjxmpjEqLhy05z4E1GlCZTgPYP3k6-tqN64dC4PqDauioMQlvS4GNi1G-_s_qxB3VuoE_lxb6l1-4BwifmLukFWRYmDFe-RzzL34sq-U5mrsKBPylMPFao2mLPgwDE4aMvlCam6XTG33Hw/s320/P4130530.JPG" width="320" /></a></div><div style="font-weight: normal; line-height: 115%; margin-bottom: 0.35cm;"><span style="background: none transparent scroll repeat 0% 0%;">We headed upward – up some very steep climbs into the hills towards Puriscal. This route wasn't really on our way, we could have stuck to the lower route along the coast, but it ended up being a fantastic side-trip choice, not only because of the amazing landscape and views we cycled through but also for the people we met. We knew we were on a good route when we stopped part away up a huge climb to admire the views and get a breather, and ended up watching toucans who were also chilling by the roadside. Our rest was complete when a man on a trike stopped to give us some more delicious mangoes. Jolly D!</span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhC9ucG1jAslZcL_1ki9dTHa73VyeaVsZuFBLBus5vFzxXEBwMmg9pcBQ_iSLWYQDUUfhU5KLIsdHDvW5Qx9vghkGxcPxup8QitZshEAdzxo2NbXsQWUBUgCBn35WAIw6ZNURvvhdTn9RE/s1600/IMG_0190.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; cssfloat: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" i8="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhC9ucG1jAslZcL_1ki9dTHa73VyeaVsZuFBLBus5vFzxXEBwMmg9pcBQ_iSLWYQDUUfhU5KLIsdHDvW5Qx9vghkGxcPxup8QitZshEAdzxo2NbXsQWUBUgCBn35WAIw6ZNURvvhdTn9RE/s320/IMG_0190.JPG" width="320" /></a></div><div style="font-weight: normal; line-height: 115%; margin-bottom: 0.35cm;"><span style="background: none transparent scroll repeat 0% 0%;">However, the best reason for our little strenuous detour up was to materialise on an evening not far out of Puriscal when we started looking for a place to camp. The owners of a family restaurant with stunning views over the hills and valley below offered to let us camp undercover in their restaurant. We were a little concerned about the effect that scruffy cyclists hanging around would have on their evening trade but they insisted we set up our tent in the middle of the restaurant! We were then treated to great food and fantastic hospitality for the whole night, and then the whole next morning.</span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgDtNMwFfy-xuP6L0ccsZ5hj-D6SH115kQPqNfXPodpm9F27wKAzmmhKGulztHdP8-Yc8dFN46lrFoAhPS5fOxbsCiJ9_gpnbZkRtTKmS6YnIQFm2kMtDAP6yCMow1o9nC6VswyhTrkKT0/s1600/IMG_0180.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; cssfloat: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" i8="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgDtNMwFfy-xuP6L0ccsZ5hj-D6SH115kQPqNfXPodpm9F27wKAzmmhKGulztHdP8-Yc8dFN46lrFoAhPS5fOxbsCiJ9_gpnbZkRtTKmS6YnIQFm2kMtDAP6yCMow1o9nC6VswyhTrkKT0/s320/IMG_0180.JPG" width="320" /></a></div><div style="font-weight: normal; line-height: 115%; margin-bottom: 0.35cm;"><span style="background: none transparent scroll repeat 0% 0%;">We got to know Adolfo, Grettel and Naomi, their gorgeous almost-2 little girl who was full of energy, and then the next morning we met more of the family, got a tour of the town and went off with Adolfo to help set up a marquee for his party rental business. That is the best thing about cycling, you think you are just climbing a mountain range to see the amazing landscape and you end up in a small field setting up a circus tent for a horse parade! Plus Adolfo took us to the best bakery in town and we had pastries and coffee for breakfast, a wonderful morning all round, and the cinnamon rolls he found us were definitely up in the top 10! </span></div><div class="separator" style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none; clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgvRBcjywiiIs7dm4O6H2ES7rEbmVKMONIRhe8uQYvUZDHFU48E-1tqQHL8IuQ7H6zU2WjcrkeLKHUc3ZFoEIQYToaS5iPF6rOazP90lUKncoErtcIXZ6ZxImyZWHsYL58KoHE1T00GKW0/s1600/P4130522.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; cssfloat: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" i8="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgvRBcjywiiIs7dm4O6H2ES7rEbmVKMONIRhe8uQYvUZDHFU48E-1tqQHL8IuQ7H6zU2WjcrkeLKHUc3ZFoEIQYToaS5iPF6rOazP90lUKncoErtcIXZ6ZxImyZWHsYL58KoHE1T00GKW0/s320/P4130522.JPG" width="320" /></a></div><div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none; font-weight: normal; line-height: 115%; margin-bottom: 0.35cm;"><span style="background: none transparent scroll repeat 0% 0%;">We didn't want to leave our restaurant-home and the wonderful family that had adopted us but unfortunately we had to push on that day. It turned out to be a day of both stunning riding through the hills, and highly traumatic riding along a rough as guts gravel/mud road, with super steep ascents and descents. Towards the end of the day we got caught in a thunderstorm – welcoming us to the beginning of the wet season. When we finally arrived in the tiny town of Mastatal we sought directions in the local bar where the focal point was a man passed out in the middle of the floor. All the other guys in the bar was also heading in that direction (floorward) so they weren't much help providing us with the directions we required. We gave up trying to work out where we needed to go and had a beer with them instead.</span></div><div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none; font-weight: normal; line-height: 115%; margin-bottom: 0.35cm;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj-Tisbz4CiTBXNBSDaQx7_OFGFDBIHY2Yh7qZ8YXSr3Om3REFj3QcMtCWjFePEhuECXYqh3t-87ihnBl0-kBOcVh5YlhIeb3UE4RoQdhpxqdMdIYPphvlH4OS0DxnaWE32qfpJR0owHZg/s1600/P4180585.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; cssfloat: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" i8="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj-Tisbz4CiTBXNBSDaQx7_OFGFDBIHY2Yh7qZ8YXSr3Om3REFj3QcMtCWjFePEhuECXYqh3t-87ihnBl0-kBOcVh5YlhIeb3UE4RoQdhpxqdMdIYPphvlH4OS0DxnaWE32qfpJR0owHZg/s320/P4180585.JPG" width="320" /></a><span style="background: none transparent scroll repeat 0% 0%;">We spent about ten days in the area of the tiny village of Mastatal – a few days chilling at a fantastic property with jungle views out to the coast, and then about a week volunteering at an organic farm called Villas Mastatal. The farm was owned by a wonderful Costa Rican family and was in an amazing location, perched on a hill above a river complete with waterfalls and pools, and adjacent to Cangreja National Park. </span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhvjAUnPQw9p96e4oDiFFeA6BnBQDr6YzgxviOLl9mZLlRTkrX_TF37-2vud8wvE2Fcee92mV8iNokNc_7O3ii2mb7f8eTk8e8Vh8rUskO-MqQ_TQKAvwSihB34qxeOdncaI34u2G_Yjsk/s1600/P4140554.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; cssfloat: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" i8="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhvjAUnPQw9p96e4oDiFFeA6BnBQDr6YzgxviOLl9mZLlRTkrX_TF37-2vud8wvE2Fcee92mV8iNokNc_7O3ii2mb7f8eTk8e8Vh8rUskO-MqQ_TQKAvwSihB34qxeOdncaI34u2G_Yjsk/s320/P4140554.JPG" width="240" /></a></div><div style="font-weight: normal; line-height: 115%; margin-bottom: 0.35cm;"><span style="background: none transparent scroll repeat 0% 0%;">We learnt lots about the organic farm, even more about Tican life, as well as some colourful Spanish words and phrases! We had great Tican food, walks in the jungle and we were in wildlife heaven. We spotted Toucans most days, Scarlet Macaws flew overhead as we worked, frogs plopped around the farm and we watched an interesting fight between the family cat and a beautiful tree snake (both escaped unharmed thankfully). We were less keen on the smaller wildlife , especially after one of the neighbourhood dogs required some home surgery to remove a botfly breeding within him. Jules paranoia towards the bug-world increased and she is now gorily convinced I have a similar fly breeding within a sore spot on my foot. I keep trying to convince her its just a blister but she has been regularly examining my foot, half frightened and half hoping that some creature is going to burst out like a scene from Alien.</span></div><div style="font-weight: normal; line-height: 115%; margin-bottom: 0.35cm;"><span style="background: none transparent scroll repeat 0% 0%;">Jules and I could have quite happily pottered around the hills of Mastatal for a lot longer but we had to jog ourselves out of our delightful reverie and head into the big smoke of San Jose. We left Norma and Betty to commune with the cows while we bused into the capital, to prepare for a little side trip... to Cuba!</span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg94pU8cfIbyQsPbQWlp8z-72MxAFn6OIa6zL0XjLNl_5W36HKysBfD2WC8cSdL6HCVxQ_8ItXrRuaPT4jz44syT_b9-yR12M6nmyxYHQS6MZpRH_QLorUUk9UL98YXIiaDRrQBQVXhCuY/s1600/P4170576.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; cssfloat: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" i8="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg94pU8cfIbyQsPbQWlp8z-72MxAFn6OIa6zL0XjLNl_5W36HKysBfD2WC8cSdL6HCVxQ_8ItXrRuaPT4jz44syT_b9-yR12M6nmyxYHQS6MZpRH_QLorUUk9UL98YXIiaDRrQBQVXhCuY/s320/P4170576.JPG" width="320" /></a></div><div style="font-weight: normal; line-height: 115%; margin-bottom: 0.35cm;"><span style="background: none transparent scroll repeat 0% 0%;">We spent a couple of days in San Jose, an increasingly frustrated couple of days as we tried to do outstanding jobs, bank stuff, tax stuff, etc. We also managed to find ourselves a hostel with an infestation of bedbugs and after one restless night we ended up covered in bites. I already had a rash on my legs from working in long grass so by the time I had a bad reaction to the bedbugs I was splotchy and itchy from top to toe. To complete the look I had a stress-related out-break of cold sores across my chin and, according to Jules , my foot still looked ready to hatch. </span></div><div style="font-weight: normal; line-height: 115%; margin-bottom: 0.35cm;"><span style="background: none transparent scroll repeat 0% 0%;">Definitely time for a beach break with some good friends and some Cuba Libre, though in our state we might get quarantined by the Cuban customs.</span></div>Megsy Dhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05298194015249543749noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7058581339878947488.post-6769177725919701602011-04-09T04:27:00.000-07:002011-05-13T16:56:57.403-07:00Dawdling through Nicaragua: (15th March - 4th April '11)<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div><div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none; font-weight: normal; line-height: 115%; margin-bottom: 0.35cm;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhBFFj47DQ5x9B1hbn33ZqwDnx5-Md3LqStC_C7pX80z3U9iiKI-o8dE8GvIBstbgjLoSEsW7dlARXbePB1XaQU7Nny61HRya66Q1s-BK_F48SxXtVO9Rj-a-OPjTj6H45HVSe-taRtjuU/s1600/P3140246.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; cssfloat: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" r6="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhBFFj47DQ5x9B1hbn33ZqwDnx5-Md3LqStC_C7pX80z3U9iiKI-o8dE8GvIBstbgjLoSEsW7dlARXbePB1XaQU7Nny61HRya66Q1s-BK_F48SxXtVO9Rj-a-OPjTj6H45HVSe-taRtjuU/s320/P3140246.JPG" width="320" /></a><span style="background: none transparent scroll repeat 0% 0%;">Nicaragua: land of smoking volcanoes and smiling people. We experienced both in our first few days -people waved from the roadside as we rode in the shadow of the active and smoking Volcan San Cristobel. The road we were on circled underneath it and we were suitably impressed as a smoking volcano is certainly not an everyday sight in Australia! Little did we know we would spend much of our time in Nicaragua getting up close and personal with volcanoes: cycling alongside them, climbing into the crater of one and spending ten days on an island towered over by twin peaks.</span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgWnWQB9JzzRvhUEem3HnUkAl-2HnxNKqbqsoy6eX90YJkvO9GWuw1Z_8vl2NWOYC4ihBw9U2Y7GPQ0d8h3JnqwD_wiSVhyrFR-dw2cLw6h4srLs8eqAjMa9Pu82LlqCCu3Q5OSYflMjAY/s1600/P3170311.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; cssfloat: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" r6="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgWnWQB9JzzRvhUEem3HnUkAl-2HnxNKqbqsoy6eX90YJkvO9GWuw1Z_8vl2NWOYC4ihBw9U2Y7GPQ0d8h3JnqwD_wiSVhyrFR-dw2cLw6h4srLs8eqAjMa9Pu82LlqCCu3Q5OSYflMjAY/s320/P3170311.JPG" width="240" /></a></div><div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none; font-weight: normal; line-height: 115%; margin-bottom: 0.35cm;"><span style="background: none transparent scroll repeat 0% 0%;">Our southward push really slowed down in Nicaragua and we even headed north again to the small fishing village of Jiquilillo. Here we spent a number of days relaxing at the Rancho Esperanza, which was a perfect break from cycling. We only prised ourselves out of our hammocks (and away from Nate's fantastic collection of books) to cook our meals on the beach, ha</span><span style="background: none transparent scroll repeat 0% 0%;">ve beer o'clock at sunset and to go surfing in the fun little waves.. well “surfing” could be a loosely applied term as I am not sure we really impressed anyone with our performance.. but we sure gave the whitewash a good old workout.</span></div><div style="font-weight: normal; line-height: 115%; margin-bottom: 0.35cm;"><span style="background: none transparent scroll repeat 0% 0%;">We also hit the waves (but only to bodysurf) a little further south at the beautiful Playa Matilda, which was a very relaxed camping spot right on the beach... Amongst all this relaxing on the beach we did manage to do some cycling and we checked out the cities of Nicaragua: Leon, charming and chilled, Granada, colourful but touristy and Managua, unappealing and frankly kind of odd.</span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhCfKTRqNEoxeUAv8N0m7vwJurcmCes7b4qfFk821e1yiKP4UWtAFWSnq4E8MJxLlya0tj0ID5Z_i4fHxwBVype_F3FZByDgv0GA2vpizBrdcR5o5gueqaNTgCPHJkZqC4pce_0p_xPJDs/s1600/P3270396.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; cssfloat: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" r6="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhCfKTRqNEoxeUAv8N0m7vwJurcmCes7b4qfFk821e1yiKP4UWtAFWSnq4E8MJxLlya0tj0ID5Z_i4fHxwBVype_F3FZByDgv0GA2vpizBrdcR5o5gueqaNTgCPHJkZqC4pce_0p_xPJDs/s320/P3270396.JPG" width="320" /></a></div><div style="font-weight: normal; line-height: 115%; margin-bottom: 0.35cm;"><span style="background: none transparent scroll repeat 0% 0%;">After Granada we caught the ferry out to the Island of Ometepe. The island was fantastic, twin volcanoes rising out of a huge lake. We stayed at El Zopilote for ten days, a lovely laid-back ecological farm where we volunteered in the garden. We spent our days there gardening, building a cob bench, eating yummy home-made bread, studying Spanish, swimming in the lake and one enthusiastic day of hiking up the side of the Volcan Madero, through the jungles, past the monkeys and up into the crater and lake. We then spent the next week moaning as our legs ached – cycling fit is not the same as volcano-climbing fit!</span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEja84mX7QyoaPtZLUiPbu1gfQJBucpuPT2p_yBV8Qt7Hys2-xzi95PF4JTACfQ1_CRnaQm4XQ8sXkufkB6cT5PgUmjF8ObvVuukVVxGTfMm2FQymleDF-zeRHJ81Jpr_RLoSGCLTpj-Vuw/s1600/P4010446.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; cssfloat: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" r6="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEja84mX7QyoaPtZLUiPbu1gfQJBucpuPT2p_yBV8Qt7Hys2-xzi95PF4JTACfQ1_CRnaQm4XQ8sXkufkB6cT5PgUmjF8ObvVuukVVxGTfMm2FQymleDF-zeRHJ81Jpr_RLoSGCLTpj-Vuw/s320/P4010446.JPG" width="240" /></a></div><div style="font-weight: normal; line-height: 115%; margin-bottom: 0.35cm;"><span style="background: none transparent scroll repeat 0% 0%;">We had some Spanish lessons at the farm but my lessons quickly just became an excuse for me and my teacher to have a good old chat. My teacher was also a biologist (well studying to be one) so I learnt a lot about the fauna and flora of the area, and the environmental regulations of Nicaragua... but I am not sure that my newly acquired Spanish language knowledge of the contamination problems of Lago de Nicaragua is going to prove very useful on our travels! My teacher and I also discussed the turbulent history of Nicaragua, the Revolution and current politics (it's an election year). Interesting topics to discuss in Spanish.. yet somehow I still can't understand when people ask me where I am from and I crumble under pressure when small children ask me my name.</span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEikCTbnF8IKmMlkLlEGFu6ysEMO54sfJilSBN_epSbBn5Wez646pkitF-rFHugYAGiJDL70M2M75VIpiY4bbRz23ppSR8JdKYZOLyHPXVE42iWD4fz9I7NQJfqGuHI2pA8bVwTi1MDfhiE/s1600/P3270382.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; cssfloat: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" r6="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEikCTbnF8IKmMlkLlEGFu6ysEMO54sfJilSBN_epSbBn5Wez646pkitF-rFHugYAGiJDL70M2M75VIpiY4bbRz23ppSR8JdKYZOLyHPXVE42iWD4fz9I7NQJfqGuHI2pA8bVwTi1MDfhiE/s320/P3270382.JPG" width="240" /></a></div><div style="font-weight: normal; line-height: 115%; margin-bottom: 0.35cm;"><span style="background: none transparent scroll repeat 0% 0%;">As we travelled through Nicaragua we met quite a few other cycle-tourists. Pete from Belgium , the lovely Michelle and Dave who we met a few times, plus a whole boatload on the way to the Isla de Ometepe! On the boat was Karin and Chris, Yannick and Shirley, who are doing a very fun”transcontinental triathlon” and Allan from France who we first met on our way out of Denali National Park almost nine months ago. With our cycling gang we camped out at the boat launch when we arrived at the island and spent the evening chatting about cycling adventures.</span></div><div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none; font-weight: normal; line-height: 115%; margin-bottom: 0.35cm;"><br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgGlwb901hpGSUVzfQY4XIBCIhubDjFPcnnu0zW_rR6zNkHz1QHMZMtjgtc8jmvqLwjFBMosG_jkhiU62TiryU-hScSvF3rakNPatZe9n2C6ReniJK6veJn1gNl8Jq21REgRZp5m_z4HFY/s1600/P4020451.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; cssfloat: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" r6="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgGlwb901hpGSUVzfQY4XIBCIhubDjFPcnnu0zW_rR6zNkHz1QHMZMtjgtc8jmvqLwjFBMosG_jkhiU62TiryU-hScSvF3rakNPatZe9n2C6ReniJK6veJn1gNl8Jq21REgRZp5m_z4HFY/s320/P4020451.JPG" width="320" /></a><span style="background: none transparent scroll repeat 0% 0%;">We also had another overlander convention at a campsite on a southern beach where a bunch of vehicle-ing overlanders all coincidentally turned up on the same day. They were also doing the Alaska to Argentina trip, in a variety of 4wds/combi vans and we had a ball sitting up late and chatting with them.</span><br />
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We loved Nicaragua and thorougly enjoyed pottering our way through, taking it pretty slowly, in fact we found it hard to leave and put off heading south a number of times.. but finally we had to spend up our Cordobas, wave goodbye to the volcanoes and head towards the green of Costa Rica.</div><div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none; font-weight: normal; line-height: 115%; margin-bottom: 0.35cm;"><br />
</div>Megsy Dhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05298194015249543749noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7058581339878947488.post-90987068491775932182011-03-21T11:11:00.000-07:002011-05-13T16:56:57.403-07:00Guatemala again, Honduras briefly, El Salvador and Honduras again... you keeping up?( March 4th - 14th '11)<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhubMX1kdMnIDlq7Xq0Gxdw0X8N0FVsrpr7FdY-OaklOMezD1BzRQ7HaYl_77lIKOmuD255bMkuHWN4WKxhJqLyxEvCURHLPbVlE95FPK1XHI5WONKB3ZMExA_TMsvkwl3zLGbC8a8s3Uo/s1600/P3070130.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; cssfloat: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" r6="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhubMX1kdMnIDlq7Xq0Gxdw0X8N0FVsrpr7FdY-OaklOMezD1BzRQ7HaYl_77lIKOmuD255bMkuHWN4WKxhJqLyxEvCURHLPbVlE95FPK1XHI5WONKB3ZMExA_TMsvkwl3zLGbC8a8s3Uo/s320/P3070130.JPG" width="320" /></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhVSy3CgLKkAtlR3QsG7VGs0hTioSReDZbeL3BcwqakBS033oCUxdYC2l5ufRLFRtfWZuYvrAU_YIO9vP2KZ6H6VRZhqH5qMBmFrxoMipKvwFXsh5iWnirvq4u8KLsxdcN0WwqVSwGdP5g/s1600/P3070116.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; cssfloat: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" r6="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhVSy3CgLKkAtlR3QsG7VGs0hTioSReDZbeL3BcwqakBS033oCUxdYC2l5ufRLFRtfWZuYvrAU_YIO9vP2KZ6H6VRZhqH5qMBmFrxoMipKvwFXsh5iWnirvq4u8KLsxdcN0WwqVSwGdP5g/s320/P3070116.JPG" width="320" /></a></div><div style="font-weight: normal; line-height: 115%; margin-bottom: 0.35cm;"><span style="background: none transparent scroll repeat 0% 0%;">Central America is a real ego-booster for cycle-tourists. The countries are small and you feel like superman, zooming through them while the rest of the world goes blurry. After spending three and a half months peddling our way through only one country (Mexico) we entered Guatemala and then a few days later found ourselves at the border with Belize. “Where did Guatemala go” we asked ourselves as we plowed through into Belize. We chilled in Belize but when we left and arrived back in Guatemala we quickly got back into the rhythm of cycling and accidentally rode across the country in four days! After Guatemala we entered Honduras, and I didn't even really comprehend that we had passed through it.... I don't know what happened, I think Jules was telling me a story and by the time she finally got to her punchline we were at the border of El Salvador. In El Salvador we managed to slow down Norma and Betty's relentless progress across Central America and take around a week to enjoy it. But the bikes then got the sniff of the open road again and zoomed across Honduras for the second time. This time we took two days to cross the country and I managed to see a little more than the first time (including finding the world's best strawberry licuados. Oh soooo tasty) ... </span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiBT4ggJQd1JcPT_Kn8YEwgIRYk9cYUfRVR6xTppSO-MRcF07M8C-ytoeJ6pF6cYY6IPzEVWJ8tmUDicWuWbzDCl10OBMFIu2RybM9jaZg5_dLn1k9-iV1UrNzZsIhqGnWraoNDPEDEPE0/s1600/P3030090.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; cssfloat: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" r6="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiBT4ggJQd1JcPT_Kn8YEwgIRYk9cYUfRVR6xTppSO-MRcF07M8C-ytoeJ6pF6cYY6IPzEVWJ8tmUDicWuWbzDCl10OBMFIu2RybM9jaZg5_dLn1k9-iV1UrNzZsIhqGnWraoNDPEDEPE0/s320/P3030090.JPG" width="320" /></a></div><div style="font-weight: normal; line-height: 115%; margin-bottom: 0.35cm;"><span style="background: none transparent scroll repeat 0% 0%;">Besides the limited time that we spent in these countries, we did really enjoy them – and we got to see some interesting areas. One of our favourite parts of Guatemala was where we arrived from Belize (by boat) on the Caribbean coast at Livingston, which is permeated with the vibe of the Caribbean, rich in Garifuna culture and great music. There are no roads to Livingston so we caught a boat up the river to Rio Dulce. The boat trip itself was lovely, canyons dripping in rainforest plants and abundant birdlife . It was also fantastic as we met a lovely Dutch couple on the boat who were travelling the Americas in their camper. When we arrived at Rio Dulce they took us with them to camp at the local marina, which was a very pleasant spot on the lake... if not a little random as we spent the night in our little tent surrounded by huge and impressive-looking yachts!</span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgA3WncgmEN92BkBidYdmEUKMGHUaW3lbNMduqYOKQE-zbS6lseOICiGyEkxCSTqEgAdhpJbjNc7vN1FxPA4j54zqDUpfmCY__4pPc-JOIELErHFjvtloDdTTegu9RcsKGCqa7R7Zsy7V0/s1600/P3040094.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; cssfloat: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" r6="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgA3WncgmEN92BkBidYdmEUKMGHUaW3lbNMduqYOKQE-zbS6lseOICiGyEkxCSTqEgAdhpJbjNc7vN1FxPA4j54zqDUpfmCY__4pPc-JOIELErHFjvtloDdTTegu9RcsKGCqa7R7Zsy7V0/s320/P3040094.JPG" width="320" /></a></div><div style="font-weight: normal; line-height: 115%; margin-bottom: 0.35cm;"><span style="background: none transparent scroll repeat 0% 0%;">The next few days we criss-crossed paths with the lovely Dutchies . They would drive past us around morning teatime as we were riding along and lean out the window yelling “coffee-time” . A few kilometres down the road we would catch up with them where they had parked and set up a picnic tea, with iced coffee and snacks. They would then send us on our way with handfuls of biscuits and lollies! We were very spoilt for a few days with coffeetime and great conversations. Unfortunately near the El Salvadorean border we went different directions but we will try and meet up again further down the road. Another meeting with wonderful people...and another highlight of our trip.</span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgxlvigIR1dHXzvVrLkSIpRU39JQgFrvgxiLIm0l8q4YTzXrsYTTsFaCm62wn6r4uPUDTVfOfz2Qx24Ru2IX1WCbn2ZH29cv20ghAnmDX-s8iQ6BHZkK47WoNc7a8tGRCjQp-RHMgUA3j4/s1600/P3110163.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; cssfloat: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" r6="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgxlvigIR1dHXzvVrLkSIpRU39JQgFrvgxiLIm0l8q4YTzXrsYTTsFaCm62wn6r4uPUDTVfOfz2Qx24Ru2IX1WCbn2ZH29cv20ghAnmDX-s8iQ6BHZkK47WoNc7a8tGRCjQp-RHMgUA3j4/s320/P3110163.JPG" width="320" /></a></div><div style="font-weight: normal; line-height: 115%; margin-bottom: 0.35cm;"><span style="background: none transparent scroll repeat 0% 0%;">It was the people that we met riding through these northern countries in Central America that really made this part of the trip for us. We met some lovely locals: one who bought us dinner at a street stall, a tradie that stopped his truck near us on a hot section of the El Salvadorean freeway and magicked some icy-cold Gatorades out of his esky to present to us, and the elderly owner of a little guesthouse who went out of his way to make sure we had everything we could possibly need – though this worked out less well for us the next morning when he was wandering around in his underwear drinking his coffee and helping us pack the bikes (while we tried hard to look at something far off in the distance). He then (still in his underwear) came out to see us off and give us hugs.. luckily he took more of a shine to Jules and I escaped with a handshake and a squeeze around the shoulders. .</span></div><div style="font-weight: normal; line-height: 115%; margin-bottom: 0.35cm;"><span style="background: none transparent scroll repeat 0% 0%;">The Salvadoreans were particularly friendly, lots of smiling and waving. One guy actually stopped to see if we needed any money – you know you are looking particularly bedraggled and have reached new heights of hobo-ness when random people stop to see if you need money! </span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg9QspsYWfdevgR1I5RdFhX3QoZlpQU8xyCQki5PVrGNKOYLivIj5O-955TR2dieY6yCtbItyWwwcDJMGveIu-fmuOUo056nhx_BJ8I39vBXbSOEYeia5HPqu6Fa7rXqSM1DMWAKGaEIWs/s1600/P3070137.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; cssfloat: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" r6="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg9QspsYWfdevgR1I5RdFhX3QoZlpQU8xyCQki5PVrGNKOYLivIj5O-955TR2dieY6yCtbItyWwwcDJMGveIu-fmuOUo056nhx_BJ8I39vBXbSOEYeia5HPqu6Fa7rXqSM1DMWAKGaEIWs/s320/P3070137.JPG" width="320" /></a></div><div style="font-weight: normal; line-height: 115%; margin-bottom: 0.35cm;"><span style="background: none transparent scroll repeat 0% 0%;">We had some lovely riding through the area where Guatemala, Honduras and El Salvador meet. It was a little mountainous, so we had some climbing to do but the landscape was very pretty and in some strange, unexpected way the downhills actually felt longer than the uphills. We loved the little towns in the hills of El Salvador, including La Palma, filled with the cheerful artwork of Fernando Llort, and Suchitoto, where we wallowed in the delicious Salvadorean street foods and wonderful views of the lake from our hostel.</span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjybOmVFQi3s5B7fBwYrjcE6_fcHC6RP0vsRJQ8oG73CiNNpa-XlCO608FYS-Qi6bu3icOFo4PPJVl6ECvR3EmNz5O6OowJongQaMPtSCFQGXMLY_fFHHncjO1MFHCdndjQRaTo1poNXVw/s1600/P3180325.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; cssfloat: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" r6="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjybOmVFQi3s5B7fBwYrjcE6_fcHC6RP0vsRJQ8oG73CiNNpa-XlCO608FYS-Qi6bu3icOFo4PPJVl6ECvR3EmNz5O6OowJongQaMPtSCFQGXMLY_fFHHncjO1MFHCdndjQRaTo1poNXVw/s320/P3180325.JPG" width="320" /></a></div><div style="font-weight: normal; line-height: 115%; margin-bottom: 0.35cm;"><span style="background: none transparent scroll repeat 0% 0%;">We thoroughly enjoyed the street food of Guatemala, Honduras and El Salvador and made sure we stopped for a second breaky every day, some sort of fatty fried thing, such as the delicious cheese and bean papusas. Jules has become obsessed with “licuados”, which are milkshakes made with fresh fruit (our favourites being strawberry and banana), and at least twice a day she will demand her fix. At one spot we found licuados that were brought out in giant jugs, it was like drinking out of the blender! And even though we were so full of milk that our stomachs sloshed as we walked away from the table they were the best we have had so far. Ever since this one Jules is disappointed if her licuado is smaller than her head.</span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgXZtiK378MD8tCkyOqFLl8hThA_MRIMCHWsrjbIzrCZ9y38VjoNLtaamJEW880YEoYFVrcyTgY8CvTuzqhRDlu1lmr5RYz12Lxqhgd_EcVquEPlepfTub3LhXCtVcadna2iiaP_5QpDLQ/s1600/P3140203.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; cssfloat: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" r6="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgXZtiK378MD8tCkyOqFLl8hThA_MRIMCHWsrjbIzrCZ9y38VjoNLtaamJEW880YEoYFVrcyTgY8CvTuzqhRDlu1lmr5RYz12Lxqhgd_EcVquEPlepfTub3LhXCtVcadna2iiaP_5QpDLQ/s320/P3140203.JPG" width="320" /></a></div><div style="font-weight: normal; line-height: 115%; margin-bottom: 0.35cm;"><span style="background: none transparent scroll repeat 0% 0%;">Our biggest issue for the last few weeks has been the intense heat of the lowlands. Trying to beat the heat we get up at Stupid o'clock and aim to be on the road at first light. The first few hours of riding are always thoroughly enjoyable: the pretty dawn light is doing its thing, the birds are all doing their thing, people are doing their early morning thing (having breaky, heading to school, taking their pigs for a walk....) but after about 9.30 it starts to get warm and we start to sweat by the bucketloads. However, by starting so early we are usually at our destination by late morning so we can hide in the shade, eat whole watermelons, drink massive licuados and prostate ourselves in front of the fan.</span></div><div style="font-weight: normal; line-height: 115%; margin-bottom: 0.35cm;"><span style="background: none transparent scroll repeat 0% 0%;">Now we are newly arrived in Nicaragua... and heading out to suss out the quality of the Nicaraguan licuados...</span></div>Megsy Dhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05298194015249543749noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7058581339878947488.post-32997290615106970652011-03-09T09:31:00.000-08:002011-03-18T21:15:41.931-07:00You have to see it to Belize it: Mexico/Guatemala border to Belize/Guatemala border (13th Feb - 3rd March '11)<div style="line-height: 115%; margin-bottom: 0.35cm;"><div class="separator" style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none; clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi6p9cKhAhZpJ9Ti0WMgIfTUJTwqSjkIMacdNXYxAuLUbhamkACBHhPPQ_CgT2SuhNh5K7lpa4F3KRK3VAn0zAIRpHJqZ_YabK5KBxaXd51PoEcTtJpqnMAAEmOjKsGGxKgbeHdCYS6NIs/s1600/P2201532.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; cssfloat: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" q6="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi6p9cKhAhZpJ9Ti0WMgIfTUJTwqSjkIMacdNXYxAuLUbhamkACBHhPPQ_CgT2SuhNh5K7lpa4F3KRK3VAn0zAIRpHJqZ_YabK5KBxaXd51PoEcTtJpqnMAAEmOjKsGGxKgbeHdCYS6NIs/s320/P2201532.JPG" width="320" /></a></div><span style="background: none transparent scroll repeat 0% 0%;"><span style="font-weight: normal;">(apologies for the terrible pun but it had to be done....)</span></span><br />
<br />
<br />
<span style="background: none transparent scroll repeat 0% 0%;"><span style="font-weight: normal;">After almost three and half months our trip through Mexico came to an end. We loved our time in the friendly, chaotic, fascinating, historical and beautiful country, and of course we thoroughly enjoyed its culinary delights. But while we were sad to leave, we knew that someday we will return for a visit and we were also excited about exploring Central America.</span></span></div><div style="font-weight: normal; line-height: 115%; margin-bottom: 0.35cm;"><div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEie7tZOJbmeSTAqezXD_P21TVSffElfbWSjFAqRWoc1PDI6fnBAOWtedk0iOIsRj5XNqL__h-n8ktQGKo5qDeya5V2QFXgQ8XiBe4Vr6aPokJXvLq1COicl3hns8TW3C9RTSbI2ylJIPp0/s1600/P2161453.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; cssfloat: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" q6="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEie7tZOJbmeSTAqezXD_P21TVSffElfbWSjFAqRWoc1PDI6fnBAOWtedk0iOIsRj5XNqL__h-n8ktQGKo5qDeya5V2QFXgQ8XiBe4Vr6aPokJXvLq1COicl3hns8TW3C9RTSbI2ylJIPp0/s320/P2161453.JPG" width="320" /></a><span style="background: none transparent scroll repeat 0% 0%;">We headed into Guatemala by crossing the Usumacinta River at Frontera Corazol, after loading the bikes on the boat, getting stamped out of Mexico and most importantly stocking up on some Mexican essentials, like Bimbo Cake. The boat took us downstream about 15kms to the border town of Bethel. Not that there was any sign of a border – once we had been unloaded, and some local kids had helped us push our bikes up the steep river banks, we found ourselves on a sandy, rocky road on the outskirts of a small village.</span></div></div><div style="font-weight: normal; line-height: 115%; margin-bottom: 0.35cm;"><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh-ZblkOPcLTc4bVjbO3zr42fK1svT8p_Tulwk66vdFCVs0jyNNxKqLaspjAUSy5n1ygx6dOjL4Fgjma_OdnOqh3mFJjB5y3AdMsULV7obhvSgVaXs7IcgvS5t3N3oY0ibQzFZu5IcWQI8/s1600/P2241732.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; cssfloat: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" q6="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh-ZblkOPcLTc4bVjbO3zr42fK1svT8p_Tulwk66vdFCVs0jyNNxKqLaspjAUSy5n1ygx6dOjL4Fgjma_OdnOqh3mFJjB5y3AdMsULV7obhvSgVaXs7IcgvS5t3N3oY0ibQzFZu5IcWQI8/s320/P2241732.JPG" width="320" /></a><span style="background: none transparent scroll repeat 0% 0%;">We went searching for the immigration (always a good sign) which we found a few kilometres down a very rough and rocky road. The smiling official welcomed us to Guatemala and assured us that yes the road was like this for the next 60kms.. 60 bone-shaking kilometres of rocks and dirt. I was still sick with diarrhoea and stomach cramps and was in a bit of a daze, so by the time we clambered off the bikes at the end of the day my poor body felt like it had spent the last few hours in a washer and dryer.</span></div></div><div style="font-weight: normal; line-height: 115%; margin-bottom: 0.35cm;"><span style="background: none transparent scroll repeat 0% 0%;"><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiAjqBl25MlUHjWI4HuJ4CS8ZoAqBFnWywn1idLt4mtThpCETw1FuSZ9tzMDxR6nzFrd2cm1JjY6lJG_CBMWcpKezaw1v10sZ6h6O9x4_3AONDGf-VTVvRirc-rYsLNh0W7pocKpUo4CGE/s1600/P2161468.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; cssfloat: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" q6="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiAjqBl25MlUHjWI4HuJ4CS8ZoAqBFnWywn1idLt4mtThpCETw1FuSZ9tzMDxR6nzFrd2cm1JjY6lJG_CBMWcpKezaw1v10sZ6h6O9x4_3AONDGf-VTVvRirc-rYsLNh0W7pocKpUo4CGE/s320/P2161468.JPG" width="320" /></a></div><div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;">The next day we cycled into the village of Flores, on an island in Lago de Peten Itza, which was a lovely place to spend a few days trying to get over my stomach bug and heading off on a day trip to the very beautiful ruins of Tikal, set in the jungle and starring spider monkeys, coatis (kind of like raccoons) and cool jungle birds. </div></span></div><div style="font-weight: normal; line-height: 115%; margin-bottom: 0.35cm;"><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgjv8xzHIis0-v3NzE6LmSpZ1yHCtnS8LZdn7-lzYOxAZUtzvmAywYLWPCfEwiW4HDRnAGxeiUaCDFxhd7qqvjjUE2zjRdy7SDo2PSTC2TYAPLLUgiWf_QlK6yhn0HAQphuRwYM8LBNz2g/s1600/P2201538.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; cssfloat: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" q6="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgjv8xzHIis0-v3NzE6LmSpZ1yHCtnS8LZdn7-lzYOxAZUtzvmAywYLWPCfEwiW4HDRnAGxeiUaCDFxhd7qqvjjUE2zjRdy7SDo2PSTC2TYAPLLUgiWf_QlK6yhn0HAQphuRwYM8LBNz2g/s320/P2201538.JPG" width="240" /></a></div><span style="background: none transparent scroll repeat 0% 0%;">In Flores we had to sadly say goodbye to our companions of the last three and a half months, Team Lusty. Russ and Lorely were heading south in Guatemala while we were off to the beaches of Belize. It had been a wicked few months of travelling with them, we managed to survive some tough days of cycling and a terrible Ashes series (and thus a lot of taunts from the Poms) but we always had some great laughs. We'll miss them, but I'm sure we'll see them down the track somewhere.</span></div><div style="font-weight: normal; line-height: 115%; margin-bottom: 0.35cm;"><div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;"><span style="background: none transparent scroll repeat 0% 0%;">Jules and I headed off to some lovely relaxing on the shores of the lake at El Remate and then to find the sun and beaches of Belize, where the motto is “go slow”, just how we like it! </span></div></div><div style="font-weight: normal; line-height: 115%; margin-bottom: 0.35cm;"><span style="background: none transparent scroll repeat 0% 0%;">Belize was a fascinating place to visit, so very different from anywhere that we have been. It is very Caribbean and laidback, even the dogs were too chilled out to chase us, occasionally one would lazily lift its head to bark as we rode past but that was about as bothered as they got. </span></div><div style="font-weight: normal; line-height: 115%; margin-bottom: 0.35cm;"><div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;"><span style="background: none transparent scroll repeat 0% 0%;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjjQcccs_EyWhEe3dBcr0lgUdHYQgHkUDV89pdWImb7YfQnEI6hke8IiatSS7R3DLFfUYkpmdgfGzEWf3XNwaOJPKxSS0wgzeW57OOb2iGhJIdqATBPA_P5ZE2GaFu1NoPUbMMKOZHgkqc/s1600/P2221698.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; cssfloat: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" q6="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjjQcccs_EyWhEe3dBcr0lgUdHYQgHkUDV89pdWImb7YfQnEI6hke8IiatSS7R3DLFfUYkpmdgfGzEWf3XNwaOJPKxSS0wgzeW57OOb2iGhJIdqATBPA_P5ZE2GaFu1NoPUbMMKOZHgkqc/s320/P2221698.JPG" width="320" /></a>Belize has an eclectic blend of cultures: Creol, Spanish, Indigenous, Garifuna, Chinese etc. It was interesting to be back in a country where they spoke English, and people loved to yell out at us as we rode past “hey beautiful ladies”, “where you going so fast” “hey respect to you, man!”. One policeman chilling on the side of the road, called out “hey man, i love your rear view mirror, yeah awesome man”. </span></div></div><div style="font-weight: normal; line-height: 115%; margin-bottom: 0.35cm;"><div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjD_dX6Q1GJJG2LCnAzN5SvQJiVo1IcQhLhxEc_Y_l01J8mqtrylIBy4uCZNV-fue72gwESeXn20mdaAp1IfXns4pecGUaWNUJz3rG4ZAiDpJvP1EdexRAfgF0A-SN6GlpNTnwI1dnM0BE/s1600/P2271781.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; cssfloat: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" q6="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjD_dX6Q1GJJG2LCnAzN5SvQJiVo1IcQhLhxEc_Y_l01J8mqtrylIBy4uCZNV-fue72gwESeXn20mdaAp1IfXns4pecGUaWNUJz3rG4ZAiDpJvP1EdexRAfgF0A-SN6GlpNTnwI1dnM0BE/s320/P2271781.JPG" width="240" /></a><span style="background: none transparent scroll repeat 0% 0%;">We spent most of our time in Belize either in, or lazing next to, the ocean. We spent four days in chilled out Caye Caulker, where we snorkeled with sharks and rays, swam in the turquoise waters and became addicted to coconut rum drinks. We also spent four days on the tiny island of Tobacco Caye, which was one of the highlights of our trip so far. We stayed with a lovely couple, who let us use their kitchen and helped us to buy fresh fish and seafood off the local fisherman. Our host taught us how to make some Caribbean seafood dishes, but was horrified when I planned to use powdered coconut milk in my spicy coconut fish stew. He went off to get us a fresh coconut from the palms outside and taught us how to make fresh coconut milk . Yum! So we spent our time out at the island snorkeling off the beach, lying in the hammock overlooking the ocean, eating delicious fresh seafood and occasionally visiting the beach bar for some sunset cocktails. Bliss.</span></div></div><div style="font-weight: normal; line-height: 115%; margin-bottom: 0.35cm;"><div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgyhB2tEwNRtM39phHO3EHO64WxD00hRlRnljPGwgcipOVuC48O6Jj59cXZdNXAUVT4018rpYhgFQuwiKEu2ics9SuUO0b_XLOLXR2ledA-MWP88j8dcKyPDG97B8TC8MPjEXfWLUlnJbg/s1600/P2241744.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; cssfloat: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" q6="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgyhB2tEwNRtM39phHO3EHO64WxD00hRlRnljPGwgcipOVuC48O6Jj59cXZdNXAUVT4018rpYhgFQuwiKEu2ics9SuUO0b_XLOLXR2ledA-MWP88j8dcKyPDG97B8TC8MPjEXfWLUlnJbg/s320/P2241744.JPG" width="240" /></a><span style="background: none transparent scroll repeat 0% 0%;">We did do <u>some</u> riding around the country, we rode across the Belize west to east and then south from Belize City to the southern border. But it didn't require too much effort when the country is only 500km long! The whole country was a dream for cycle tourists, all the roads we took were almost completely flat and there were some great campsites along the way. The hardest day was taking the Coastal “Highway” which was actually just a dirt road through the middle of nowhere. However, while it was tough riding at least it wasn't boring as we got the full range of rocks, gravel, sand, corrugations - it had it all.</span></div></div><div style="font-weight: normal; line-height: 115%; margin-bottom: 0.35cm;"><span style="background: none transparent scroll repeat 0% 0%;">Belize is a tiny country, with a small population, so a lot of our time was spent riding along open roads with occasional farms and wooden houses on stilts next to the road. Most Belizeans don't have a lot, so it was a bit of a shock to ride into Placencia (which was another lovely beachside town where we swam and drank more coconut rum) and see evidence of an influx of expat retirees building huge houses right on the beach. The show of wealth really stood out after the small Garifuna towns and banana plantations that we had come through.</span></div><div style="font-weight: normal; line-height: 115%; margin-bottom: 0.35cm;"><div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgOf8gxQt5SSC-twdapcu5By5rnNqg1cDVEi24ZrRz9jSP00wgIgf4AncfMm7dzu1rjmswjhcelBKYfBvfn1q-BAKRsIsH5432ptyDN4VBYfgoHMJpxuPaDUE_X7A9wqQEwITAy8aQ6Mms/s1600/P2280055.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; cssfloat: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" q6="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgOf8gxQt5SSC-twdapcu5By5rnNqg1cDVEi24ZrRz9jSP00wgIgf4AncfMm7dzu1rjmswjhcelBKYfBvfn1q-BAKRsIsH5432ptyDN4VBYfgoHMJpxuPaDUE_X7A9wqQEwITAy8aQ6Mms/s320/P2280055.JPG" width="240" /></a><span style="background: none transparent scroll repeat 0% 0%;">Our final morning in Belize, in the border town of Punta Gorda, was a nice summary of our time in the country, everyone waving and smiling as we rode past and then chatting to us at the local cafe. We had our coffee bought for us by a friendly travel writer, Joshua, that we had a great yarn to about travels (<a href="http://josambro.blogspot.com/">http://josambro.blogspot.com/</a>). Someone then came to find us and tell us that our boat was leaving early, this town was pretty small! So we headed through immigration, loaded up Betty and Norma on the boat (“too many boat trips in the last couple of weeks” they protested) and headed across the beautiful turquoise waters, bound for Guatemala once more.</span></div></div><div class="separator" style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none; clear: both; text-align: center;"></div><div class="separator" style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none; clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhTpqdTLMa3ImnjhacfPQZ7W_wjcZoSuqnba5Oaf4AeYjuugObih4wgH18J3yFaAhVILTf7nFOh413yKDfYEnaWNWR9NFmJ2UTtwe8QQKMWDxSoGvmRvzFJ3XF3QLHu2UYlnu8OHNHrVDs/s1600/P2261764.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; cssfloat: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" q6="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhTpqdTLMa3ImnjhacfPQZ7W_wjcZoSuqnba5Oaf4AeYjuugObih4wgH18J3yFaAhVILTf7nFOh413yKDfYEnaWNWR9NFmJ2UTtwe8QQKMWDxSoGvmRvzFJ3XF3QLHu2UYlnu8OHNHrVDs/s320/P2261764.JPG" width="320" /></a></div>Megsy Dhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05298194015249543749noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7058581339878947488.post-86734208197545101972011-02-27T13:34:00.000-08:002011-02-27T15:10:52.149-08:00Stumbling our way through Southern Mexico: Puerto Angel to Palenque (26th Jan - 12th Feb)<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgtLMkoNQvLiEXYY2k-tSZTbGBmqoBQBMBCRui1ghlWWslkp_1lf6mcCs3ROL-5-5f2j9ySd4xgN1rjnmsqmMhv7fU7ysHQQHbvhUy_M0N5zthGDzAEN2ksM5yhHta09eXNBQMaQ6XZpto/s1600/P1291171.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; cssfloat: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" j6="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgtLMkoNQvLiEXYY2k-tSZTbGBmqoBQBMBCRui1ghlWWslkp_1lf6mcCs3ROL-5-5f2j9ySd4xgN1rjnmsqmMhv7fU7ysHQQHbvhUy_M0N5zthGDzAEN2ksM5yhHta09eXNBQMaQ6XZpto/s320/P1291171.JPG" width="240" /></a></div><div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none; font-weight: normal; line-height: 115%; margin-bottom: 0.35cm;"><span style="background: none transparent scroll repeat 0% 0%;">Our last few weeks in Mexico proved to be slightly trying – showing that just when you get into the rhythm of cycling life you are going to get a few topes (speedbumps) thrown in your path. At least our last few weeks proved to be memorable, and showed us that Mexico had a few more things to teach us before we left the country, including:</span></div><ul><li><div style="font-weight: normal; line-height: 115%; margin-bottom: 0.35cm;"><span style="background: none transparent scroll repeat 0% 0%;">it is still possible for me, even after 10,000km of practice, to cycle straight into a wall while riding along a footpath (granted I was staring at the pavement trying to work out how Russ, who was riding in front of me, had just managed to ride straight into the same wall!)</span></div></li>
<li><div style="font-weight: normal; line-height: 115%; margin-bottom: 0.35cm;"><span style="background: none transparent scroll repeat 0% 0%;">the Isthmus of Tehuantepec in Mexico is not the most enjoyable place to cycle unless you enjoy being blown sideways off the road</span></div></li>
<li><div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none; font-weight: normal; line-height: 115%; margin-bottom: 0.35cm;"><span style="background: none transparent scroll repeat 0% 0%;">The beginnings of nausea are a good indication to quickly find yourself a hotel room, otherwise you will end up vomiting in someones garden</span></div></li>
</ul><div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none; font-weight: normal; line-height: 115%; margin-bottom: 0.35cm;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjZL3aOHSd2HlD3VZHmlK8UdOSmBg-GMOlphFv-qB-MGgIquMZwwr9DZQuxLFylaGVZ9707SsgmZkMIIOd6Z_bd32M81djesgBOFZX4Mn-e05Lr1A9D8swNunc0ESM7l2y9QQhpl74SCF8/s1600/P1261121.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; cssfloat: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" j6="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjZL3aOHSd2HlD3VZHmlK8UdOSmBg-GMOlphFv-qB-MGgIquMZwwr9DZQuxLFylaGVZ9707SsgmZkMIIOd6Z_bd32M81djesgBOFZX4Mn-e05Lr1A9D8swNunc0ESM7l2y9QQhpl74SCF8/s320/P1261121.JPG" width="320" /></a><span style="background: none transparent scroll repeat 0% 0%;">However, while it wasn't the easiest of times we still had the wonderful friendliness of the Mexican people to cheer us up as we travelled from the Oaxacan coast, across the Isthmus of Tehuantepec and then up into the mountains of Chiapas in southern Mexico. Climbing into the mountains of Chiapas was thoroughly enjoyable (no really..) because it is a fascinating area where indigenous culture is still very strong and where the Zapatista Army of National Liberation, a revolutionary socialist group, holds sway. We climbed up to the town of San Christobel de la Casas, a chilled out spot in the mountains that is filled with a full range of services to keep gringos happy - great coffee and an endless supply of cheap chocolate croissants (well, this made us happy!). </span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgqT5yymYkX7j-Mqy63l4R_B4sGjneOvuYX-qgRSUPSDhBzLS9SGVWsa391qiCutIdFGVhB4TfReMlA1gmHIv3ezr6VFwhJmRlhBODBBC_oxrpnFnJq2ZUWMo4_5xkUW-FM0nBt0mcuNwg/s1600/P2041221.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; cssfloat: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" j6="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgqT5yymYkX7j-Mqy63l4R_B4sGjneOvuYX-qgRSUPSDhBzLS9SGVWsa391qiCutIdFGVhB4TfReMlA1gmHIv3ezr6VFwhJmRlhBODBBC_oxrpnFnJq2ZUWMo4_5xkUW-FM0nBt0mcuNwg/s320/P2041221.JPG" width="320" /></a></div><div style="font-weight: normal; line-height: 115%; margin-bottom: 0.35cm;"><span style="background: none transparent scroll repeat 0% 0%;">We also managed to make it to San Cris in time for Lorely's birthday so we could celebrate with our birthday routine of coffee and pastries, Jules' special omelets for breaky and a feast of wine and cheese for dinner. We were staying with a wonderful warm showers host who was also owner of 'El Hostalito' a fantastic little hostel where we could relax and do all our necessary day-off jobs. We managed to give Norma and Betty a good clean and overhaul, and fix my busted front rack (a victim of one of those severe Mexican speedbumps) .</span></div><div style="font-weight: normal; line-height: 115%; margin-bottom: 0.35cm;"><span style="background: none transparent scroll repeat 0% 0%;">So after a few days rest we set off from San Cristobel in great spirits – we knew we had a lot of downhill to do (my favourite type of hill), and only a few more days until we were going to cross the border into Guatemala, and of course we were all excited to head into Central America. Unfortunately, the most well-laid plans go awry. I started feeling ill the first day out of San Cris and felt awful during the afternoon's ride. I was so happy to arrive at our destination, the town of Ocosingo, that I promptly jumped off the bike and threw up in someone's garden. </span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhhBdzNZ4uoJSsaUZGUwqO9U5vpUdS0QaIOpzDZp0DgJFq5sTWIyxZ8Rr8-qTIDgBsWA9jYZy8ohFtNtIptJjDWIdEEAjt72Cmmz_-gv7lr6Bcs0QaDkESNSbNXC-5XEE3T-5ckeB25Ws0/s1600/P2081242.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; cssfloat: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" j6="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhhBdzNZ4uoJSsaUZGUwqO9U5vpUdS0QaIOpzDZp0DgJFq5sTWIyxZ8Rr8-qTIDgBsWA9jYZy8ohFtNtIptJjDWIdEEAjt72Cmmz_-gv7lr6Bcs0QaDkESNSbNXC-5XEE3T-5ckeB25Ws0/s320/P2081242.JPG" width="320" /></a></div><div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none; font-weight: normal; line-height: 115%; margin-bottom: 0.35cm;"><span style="background: none transparent scroll repeat 0% 0%;">This was not my finest entrance to a town, and of course rocking up in a small Mexican town as a conspicuous gringo with a fully loaded touring bike and then stumbling from garden to garden to throwing up is not the best way to fit in! Thankfully Lorely and Russ quickly found us a hotel room and could bundle me inside to continue my pursuits in the solitude of my own bathroom. I was feeling a little better the next day but one by one everyone else also became ill and in the end all four of us were getting very intimate with the hotel's bathrooms. </span></div><div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none; font-weight: normal; line-height: 115%; margin-bottom: 0.35cm;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg9Vc0WKmnE7ZBaO2ZXRAxe4MmLLVZxdljkYXftIwaF0kBEVw2db4ZVeycvtdmTw2HRy5N6PwwWhbYKpoJwWZSisTw1w2pfoqElTwTsVsvP5_isIJiKcUKAYzzX2RXC004-nP1CiuiUD84/s1600/P2081266.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; cssfloat: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" j6="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg9Vc0WKmnE7ZBaO2ZXRAxe4MmLLVZxdljkYXftIwaF0kBEVw2db4ZVeycvtdmTw2HRy5N6PwwWhbYKpoJwWZSisTw1w2pfoqElTwTsVsvP5_isIJiKcUKAYzzX2RXC004-nP1CiuiUD84/s320/P2081266.JPG" width="320" /></a><span style="background: none transparent scroll repeat 0% 0%;">We had three days in Ocosingo feeling sorry for ourselves but recovered enough after our fourth night there to head out on the bikes to the beautiful waterfalls of Agua Azul where we spent the night. The next day we headed on to Palenque where we found a lovely campsite with a pool. This was very promising as the weather was hot, we were all feeling a lot better and were excited about spending the next day at the Mayan ruins of Palenque and then the afternoon in the pool.</span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi4AnzBXzm4wesLFcrxurmQqgJiftMCnq2mnd3QOxfLMpp7Nqqay6Cqp3r3yMX969SaKnmfhbJY9uQS2bmL00hzLa-YoXzpzdngcfV2UJ2Akei8nd2oK1vEuL-FycfnJgbE9dbxVy1CysE/s1600/P2101371.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; cssfloat: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" j6="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi4AnzBXzm4wesLFcrxurmQqgJiftMCnq2mnd3QOxfLMpp7Nqqay6Cqp3r3yMX969SaKnmfhbJY9uQS2bmL00hzLa-YoXzpzdngcfV2UJ2Akei8nd2oK1vEuL-FycfnJgbE9dbxVy1CysE/s320/P2101371.JPG" width="320" /></a></div><div style="font-weight: normal; line-height: 115%; margin-bottom: 0.35cm;"><span style="background: none transparent scroll repeat 0% 0%;">In the night it rained.. and it continued for the whole next day, which kind of ruined our pool plans, but we still managed to thoroughly enjoy our day at the ruins of Palenque. The weather added extra atmosphere to the already stunning ruins set deep in the jungle, with the mist rising off the trees behind.</span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiJm-LRlKFjXz0Y7sPhW3b7sdBa1bGN60DIJeHUXf7ikdXQps0yhw38SR9Ah4AzhTg7jmF2JOtNDJLmkMI3eikONagZo3zqr6L3sNy4g2O0vcVoNlQX-AOgXNNjB4IVHK1S9UT43-vtlBk/s1600/P2101381.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; cssfloat: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" j6="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiJm-LRlKFjXz0Y7sPhW3b7sdBa1bGN60DIJeHUXf7ikdXQps0yhw38SR9Ah4AzhTg7jmF2JOtNDJLmkMI3eikONagZo3zqr6L3sNy4g2O0vcVoNlQX-AOgXNNjB4IVHK1S9UT43-vtlBk/s320/P2101381.JPG" width="320" /></a></div><div style="font-weight: normal; line-height: 115%; margin-bottom: 0.35cm;"><span style="background: none transparent scroll repeat 0% 0%;">The weather was less atmospheric when the rain continued the next few days and by the time we left Palenque a couple of days later everything we owned smelt like wet dog. We headed off in the pouring rain towards the Guatemalen border (170kms away) and I started feeling crook again, with bad stomach cramps which didn't add to the pleasantness of riding 170kms! However, the rain stopped part way into the day, the miles flew by pretty quickly and our day turned out to be quite exciting as we managed to see a crocodile, turtles, a howler monkey, toucans and a couple of other cycle tourists (our first on the road since Baja!),..a nice welcome to Central America.</span></div>Megsy Dhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05298194015249543749noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7058581339878947488.post-65903807279799036842011-02-02T20:47:00.000-08:002011-02-02T20:50:13.241-08:00Mountains. Jungle. Sea: Mexico City to the Oaxacan Coast (12th - 25th Jan '11)<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhfxJf3dbQyHGbFTbwBjy0GhVsS16Zl5JhNeAKdHB387Vk6DbrAxToakWDU-kpyMYj3ERqC2s-YB29gdXzxxHOngXp1FxK4NY0M7QsCTmK6xoL09alJ93evPRYs5mS2kzVyNJiLXBM4O-s/s1600/P1151028.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; cssfloat: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" s5="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhfxJf3dbQyHGbFTbwBjy0GhVsS16Zl5JhNeAKdHB387Vk6DbrAxToakWDU-kpyMYj3ERqC2s-YB29gdXzxxHOngXp1FxK4NY0M7QsCTmK6xoL09alJ93evPRYs5mS2kzVyNJiLXBM4O-s/s320/P1151028.JPG" width="320" /></a></div><div style="font-weight: normal; line-height: 115%; margin-bottom: 0.35cm;"><span style="background: none transparent scroll repeat 0% 0%;">We left Mexico City with less friends...Jessie was off the bike on new adventures and we lost Pedro who was still wondering the city's sight</span><span style="background: none transparent scroll repeat 0% 0%;">s. Back to just the four of us, Team Lusty and Jules and I, as we spent a day cycling to Puebla and a day checking out the town. Poor old Russ got sick in Puebla and so it was back to just the two of us as Jules and I headed off by ourselves... arranging to meet up with Russ and Lorely four days later in Oaxaca. </span></div><div style="font-weight: normal; line-height: 115%; margin-bottom: 0.35cm;"><span style="background: none transparent scroll repeat 0% 0%;">I was a bit nervous about riding as just the two of us because only a few days before Jules had caused my first crash of my trip. I had been riding happily along, minding my own business, when she suddenly swerved into me, knocking me off my bike and sending me sprawling into the road. I am not sure whether it was an actual accident, as she professed, or a protest against being dragged to too many museums in Mexico City. Either way it made me a little nervous riding alongside her, and I now try and leave a good deal of personal space.... in case of sudden moves.</span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi-eoHjPzw5U-f6T6t0osPAGb8QU0qc05Cqvr1z3RoP2bjS5yRY8FduHXVvF_85nB9g_zcXzViB_SJa0hV3Gkb5lUPGIzKOfDJ3076P2aGrwDa8eIx3Nk9DyOtx0WFOdgT3xaz4xHO2Lxo/s1600/P1171051.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; cssfloat: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" s5="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi-eoHjPzw5U-f6T6t0osPAGb8QU0qc05Cqvr1z3RoP2bjS5yRY8FduHXVvF_85nB9g_zcXzViB_SJa0hV3Gkb5lUPGIzKOfDJ3076P2aGrwDa8eIx3Nk9DyOtx0WFOdgT3xaz4xHO2Lxo/s320/P1171051.JPG" width="320" /></a></div><div style="font-weight: normal; line-height: 115%; margin-bottom: 0.35cm;"><span style="background: none transparent scroll repeat 0% 0%;">However, the four day ride from Puebla to Oaxaca was actually very pleasant, filled with great little Mexican towns, pretty countryside and without any major bodily harm inflicted upon anyone.</span></div><div style="font-weight: normal; line-height: 115%; margin-bottom: 0.35cm;"><span style="background: none transparent scroll repeat 0% 0%;"><span style="font-style: normal;">It was great</span> to meet up with our Team Lusty again and enjoy the delights of Oaxaca, a very pretty city, with a nice big square and lots of cute cafes.. to service all the tourists! We hadn't been around this many tourists for ages. But we enjoyed the luxuries of the big town as we drank frappe upon frappe with the rest of the gringos.</span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEimJnobWhvWL5_nvZ_r2ktW1nyOWGJb0cuLiYRz5fXSOQlmi7SBDgdJsjQpaY9QZq9tW5n3XEbRBneAg4x5UQL6glntNqwBJPQijgcWoNow0IKLKt0tg9MMvJAKbqa7UziQP8JNw_5A4_s/s1600/P1261124.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; cssfloat: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" s5="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEimJnobWhvWL5_nvZ_r2ktW1nyOWGJb0cuLiYRz5fXSOQlmi7SBDgdJsjQpaY9QZq9tW5n3XEbRBneAg4x5UQL6glntNqwBJPQijgcWoNow0IKLKt0tg9MMvJAKbqa7UziQP8JNw_5A4_s/s320/P1261124.JPG" width="320" /></a></div><div style="font-weight: normal; line-height: 115%; margin-bottom: 0.35cm;"><span style="background: none transparent scroll repeat 0% 0%;">After a day's rest we headed for the coast. We had high hopes for our ride from Oaxaca towards the coast, as we knew we had to lose about 2000m in height. Unfortunately we also had to go up and down a bunch of mountains in the meantime! We had one not too bad day with some smallish hills and then we hit the big mountains. Steep, steep climbs but also some good downhills too. Unfortunately the road wasn't in great condition so as we went zooming down the hills we shuddered over the rough road. We also went through a bunch of small towns which added to the thrill of going downhill at great speed, trying to avoid children, dogs and chickens, as well as potholes.</span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjSuXgGIsgv1I5qOvCxaizSmAI1EB0ezRm_RYm3vjZqnJBDjM5DT16DIuwmoq6MZXIdtNYB4Clagy_NIiMQzxeTePuoIhegIcTS2USN3CRckLY-UkUBM8ku33oRBF99k9v_oQz1vK-nuRg/s1600/P2011192.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; cssfloat: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" s5="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjSuXgGIsgv1I5qOvCxaizSmAI1EB0ezRm_RYm3vjZqnJBDjM5DT16DIuwmoq6MZXIdtNYB4Clagy_NIiMQzxeTePuoIhegIcTS2USN3CRckLY-UkUBM8ku33oRBF99k9v_oQz1vK-nuRg/s320/P2011192.JPG" width="240" /></a></div><div style="font-weight: normal; line-height: 115%; margin-bottom: 0.35cm;"><span style="background: none transparent scroll repeat 0% 0%;">However, it was a fantastic days ride, leaving the arid inland plains, going up through the dry mountains, into the conifers and then coming out the other side into a cloud and a rainforest! The change was extreme. I was in seventh heaven cycling along checking out all the new plants: the big leaved forest species, the vines hanging down across the roads, the bright flowers, lush greens and all the jungle birds! We were less impressed with the sudden appearance of the heat and humidity, and our gasps of wonder at the new environment were ruined by sweat dripping into our open mouths. </span></div><div style="font-weight: normal; line-height: 115%; margin-bottom: 0.35cm;"><span style="background: none transparent scroll repeat 0% 0%;">We camped at the base of the mountain, still in the jungley area, and woke up to the sounds of the jungle birds. That morning was spent striking for the coast where we left the lush jungle but found the sparkling blue waters, cabana bars and chilled atmosphere of Puerto Angel, a small fishing village. This was the perfect opportunity to take a few days to swim, relax and eat yum fruit salads. I insisted on buying snorkel and goggles for Jules and myself (yes, i know, not the most practical purchase on a long distance cycling trip...) and we splashed around checking out the corals and tropical fish. Followed by beers on the beach. Sweet.</span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh63ETMqxf3ypM4YjSZzW83nEoUJXfwigWgLRrWOeIu9myNq8lsTGW7T2dUlXVgLNJnxX8r_RUUGi4VR0ERr5N_826u3eZCUXXEF4S1r4DhTS0kAxQcmZOwDV_Fo5DDJE3Uj1391Sx-3rU/s1600/P1221094.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; cssfloat: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" s5="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh63ETMqxf3ypM4YjSZzW83nEoUJXfwigWgLRrWOeIu9myNq8lsTGW7T2dUlXVgLNJnxX8r_RUUGi4VR0ERr5N_826u3eZCUXXEF4S1r4DhTS0kAxQcmZOwDV_Fo5DDJE3Uj1391Sx-3rU/s320/P1221094.JPG" width="320" /></a></div><div style="font-weight: normal; line-height: 115%; margin-bottom: 0.35cm;"><span style="background: none transparent scroll repeat 0% 0%;">We now leave our beach sojourn to head into the winds of the interiors and the mountains, our new snorkel and goggles unhelpfully strapped on the back of our bikes.</span></div>Megsy Dhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05298194015249543749noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7058581339878947488.post-67658620491389382252011-01-13T11:26:00.000-08:002011-01-13T15:53:59.876-08:00Down Historical Streets to the Big Smoke: Aguascalientes – Mexico City (26th Dec '10 -11th Jan '11)<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi9mTwoL3v4aTMHrfSuXcMLvpnZWMFEKrk35EKh4HgaiFkIx-NB7j4zgV1itQAH2baZdRBC-q9f_Ii-r2rXBtQ5biTQGcvY-wcUktE8pMsOBIKcmt0kCBmAF3Av4hwxYOdw4djU5p-5vQw/s1600/PC270720.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" n4="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi9mTwoL3v4aTMHrfSuXcMLvpnZWMFEKrk35EKh4HgaiFkIx-NB7j4zgV1itQAH2baZdRBC-q9f_Ii-r2rXBtQ5biTQGcvY-wcUktE8pMsOBIKcmt0kCBmAF3Av4hwxYOdw4djU5p-5vQw/s320/PC270720.JPG" width="320" /></a></div><br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg2foozcrI56kHI2qDzQMVjirqUnJvg1UW7O7HZ6noXi-fviYUVdg33lRwMa2cV3COeqzsLsyNRgTF2D-ude56Hp2uDp3qDK7YVTMQn0oJkeEB1w4qhW9Far_vzeu5bqgYj5O4vVMp2U3E/s1600/P1020890.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; cssfloat: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" n4="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg2foozcrI56kHI2qDzQMVjirqUnJvg1UW7O7HZ6noXi-fviYUVdg33lRwMa2cV3COeqzsLsyNRgTF2D-ude56Hp2uDp3qDK7YVTMQn0oJkeEB1w4qhW9Far_vzeu5bqgYj5O4vVMp2U3E/s320/P1020890.JPG" width="240" /></a></div><div style="font-weight: normal; line-height: 115%; margin-bottom: 0.35cm;"><span style="background: none transparent scroll repeat 0% 0%;">After our decadent Christmas in Zacatecas we heaved our bellies onto our bikes and cycled south, from picturesque colonial town to picturesque colonial town. We mosied through Aguascalientes, Leon, Quanajuato, San Miguel de Allende and then Queretaro and developed a hearty dislike for cobblestone streets (great to look at but a nightmare to cycle on). We had lots of days off the bikes which were spent wondering the tiny streets, finding cathedrals, plazas and an interesting museum of death. The nights were dedicated to testing the wide assortment of street-food and checking out the Christmas celebrations. Mexico was a fantastic place to spend the festive season as Mexicans really know how to party, the decorations were extreme, the streets were alive and ponche was flowing. </span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgdPkQE-vpSWhe2KcM_wqeQPgXlliwbmTRatomRzdvQlxXKcxnpOuCcruNdwmbz7bTz6swdeO8yrDlTiR3cKW4qlrij7vWvpb4_sExxSaMZOfhQg0TVwsV7VHq9tnN3e_aaSW5ZlUzh20c/s1600/P1010865.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; cssfloat: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" n4="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgdPkQE-vpSWhe2KcM_wqeQPgXlliwbmTRatomRzdvQlxXKcxnpOuCcruNdwmbz7bTz6swdeO8yrDlTiR3cKW4qlrij7vWvpb4_sExxSaMZOfhQg0TVwsV7VHq9tnN3e_aaSW5ZlUzh20c/s320/P1010865.JPG" width="320" /></a></div><div style="font-weight: normal; line-height: 115%; margin-bottom: 0.35cm;"><span style="background: none transparent scroll repeat 0% 0%;">We spent a number of days, including New Year's Eve, in Quanajuato, which quickly became one of my favourite towns. We rode up into the town through the tunnels and underground roads which had been built using an old drainage system and an underground river. We popped up out of the spooky tunnels and into a town of cobblestones, tiny streets, old houses layering the hills and scattered cafes and art galleries, - another town it was hard to drag ourselves away from.</span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEheRpgYnj4HieZ67sns0UTRpSc6GXCGvyyiOmn0s6v9mVN95HTyc0-hpSdMw8HzijyNI0in64RpFy_5G9YbNqo4hgOnfoB-dLMPrsZ-5DPekYuhRHj6dJ9UEpgowfwOwdaJVM37xd3kwLw/s1600/P1040918.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; cssfloat: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" n4="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEheRpgYnj4HieZ67sns0UTRpSc6GXCGvyyiOmn0s6v9mVN95HTyc0-hpSdMw8HzijyNI0in64RpFy_5G9YbNqo4hgOnfoB-dLMPrsZ-5DPekYuhRHj6dJ9UEpgowfwOwdaJVM37xd3kwLw/s320/P1040918.JPG" width="320" /></a></div><div style="font-weight: normal; line-height: 115%; margin-bottom: 0.35cm;"><span style="background: none transparent scroll repeat 0% 0%;">After a few weeks of pottering through the interesting historical towns we started heading towards Mexico City.. that teaming metropolis which, until I actually visited, I only thought of in terms of the stereotypes of pollution, masses of people and traffic. Mexico City is the world's third largest city, and it contains almost as many people as the whole of Australia! </span><br />
<span style="background: none transparent scroll repeat 0% 0%;">We didn't have the best introduction to the city, a</span><span style="background: none transparent scroll repeat 0% 0%;">s we had to cycle down the main freeway towards the city, which carried almost all the traffic from the north of Mexico.</span></div><div style="font-weight: normal; line-height: 115%; margin-bottom: 0.35cm;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiOf1csxSZvyVJDz6ivZaOcvChzamA2GhTh39_h90AOn0kAphMv1P4JaEzc_8RZhuXdPLpTEyFDSTuqHPH62nHSg-a2Ccpb0uodcyKU9GeBXTDyQp0YmwnB9eZApikqflqdTFx1jPLzRGE/s1600/PC310854.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; cssfloat: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" n4="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiOf1csxSZvyVJDz6ivZaOcvChzamA2GhTh39_h90AOn0kAphMv1P4JaEzc_8RZhuXdPLpTEyFDSTuqHPH62nHSg-a2Ccpb0uodcyKU9GeBXTDyQp0YmwnB9eZApikqflqdTFx1jPLzRGE/s320/PC310854.JPG" width="240" /></a></div><div style="font-weight: normal; line-height: 115%; margin-bottom: 0.35cm;"><span style="background: none transparent scroll repeat 0% 0%;">The noise and pollution of the freeway started to get to us and the team had a little breakdown on the side of the road. We decided that we didn't want to cycle any further on the crazy freeway and so we jumped on a bus for the last 150km into the city. Not something that I had originally wanted to do but as we came into the city on 10-lane roads, with no shoulder and huge amounts of traffic I was very grateful that all five of us and our bikes were safely inside the bus and not still fighting the traffic.</span></div><div style="font-weight: normal; line-height: 115%; margin-bottom: 0.35cm;"><br />
</div><div style="font-weight: normal; line-height: 115%; margin-bottom: 0.35cm;"><span style="background: none transparent scroll repeat 0% 0%;">Attempting to cycle the freeway wasn't the best introduction to the city but we had recovered by the time we got off the bus, rode into the centre of town and found ourselves a cheap hotel - the kind of hotel with a mirror on the ceiling above the bed... cheap and always interesting! We then spent the next six days exploring the fascinating jumble of people and buildings. </span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjgxmdFWr2GBB0wrDeT_ggpf5a0JC91CqBA4IYKrCPRitd-lnIyLC4TsXpYKyxV-_vdRKNEcOeqqwJc3zHbrKigWLbbD2Qrk-rMPvHahvu0mJKjCexD6JpAGB3ozPsb1hhHEFYqE0U86pw/s1600/P1110976.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; cssfloat: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" n4="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjgxmdFWr2GBB0wrDeT_ggpf5a0JC91CqBA4IYKrCPRitd-lnIyLC4TsXpYKyxV-_vdRKNEcOeqqwJc3zHbrKigWLbbD2Qrk-rMPvHahvu0mJKjCexD6JpAGB3ozPsb1hhHEFYqE0U86pw/s320/P1110976.JPG" width="320" /></a></div><div style="font-weight: normal; line-height: 115%; margin-bottom: 0.35cm;"><span style="background: none transparent scroll repeat 0% 0%;">Mexico City is a vibrant and exciting city, which was fantastic to visit. It is full of art galleries, museums, palaces and markets. We wallowed in the art of Diego and Frida, we sat in cafes and people-watched, we climbed ancient pyramids and had a mural-athon around town. Jules and I cafe and bar-hopped in the gay area and were quite surprised by the openness. I blushed all through dinner as the men next to us had a very public snog-fest. </span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiyoMrjkkLBjVrQ58X8jMzSJQjFXJlJVYH47r5g0Kn-P437aVkw174EkA-4umrQIDMdwpy-0yERFMuUUXVLnxvCu4XQd8qQUekoCWpkxMzUN6wjcxVJdc8jdSMBmqIIoV9DkGj1aYYMXqE/s1600/P1080953.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; cssfloat: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" n4="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiyoMrjkkLBjVrQ58X8jMzSJQjFXJlJVYH47r5g0Kn-P437aVkw174EkA-4umrQIDMdwpy-0yERFMuUUXVLnxvCu4XQd8qQUekoCWpkxMzUN6wjcxVJdc8jdSMBmqIIoV9DkGj1aYYMXqE/s320/P1080953.JPG" width="240" /></a></div><div style="font-weight: normal; line-height: 115%; margin-bottom: 0.35cm;"><span style="background: none transparent scroll repeat 0% 0%;">Of course we couldn't keep up our cultural activities for too long and had to come back to our lowbrow roots with a trip to the soccer and a night out at the Lucha Libre (Mexican wrestling). It was great to check out the Aztec football stadium even though our football team (the Aguilas - Eagles) had a disappointing game. The wrestling on the other hand was everything it should be: men in ridiculous lycra outfits and gimp-like masks jumping on each other from great heights, a dwarf in a green gorilla suit and a contestant named “Super Porky”. Highly amusing if not slightly surreal.</span></div><div style="font-weight: normal; line-height: 115%; margin-bottom: 0.35cm;"><span style="background: none transparent scroll repeat 0% 0%;">So we head south out of Mexico City with a new-found love for the city and with the satisfying knowledge that Super Porky still reigns supreme in the wrestling ring.</span></div>Megsy Dhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05298194015249543749noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7058581339878947488.post-72968259085395355622010-12-28T16:44:00.000-08:002010-12-28T17:31:55.514-08:00Climbing Mountains to Christmas Festivities: Mazatlan to Zacatecas (9th - 25th Dec '10)<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiuLw0vGQWz_w6BHO8NU9GGJtuyyjTkHZp1_vdPUkNf5Tq14-3v36TQHsTS2wrLRKft2o71E0-NH15OcUx10vyGhdIDFnETMMrd3JJ2ycZDSyhMXMH9Jnl_fG6jkAS0B5y9vJR7T-cX-PY/s1600/PC110417.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; cssfloat: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" n4="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiuLw0vGQWz_w6BHO8NU9GGJtuyyjTkHZp1_vdPUkNf5Tq14-3v36TQHsTS2wrLRKft2o71E0-NH15OcUx10vyGhdIDFnETMMrd3JJ2ycZDSyhMXMH9Jnl_fG6jkAS0B5y9vJR7T-cX-PY/s320/PC110417.JPG" width="320" /></a></div><span style="background: none transparent scroll repeat 0% 0%;">Russ, Lorely, Jules and I headed directly east from Mazatlan into the mountains, towards locations with frightening names such as “The Devil's Spine” and mountain passes with intimidating heights such as 2800m. Our research had rewarded us with the not-so satisfying knowledge that we had to do 7000m (in total) of climbing to get from the coast up the Sierra Madre mountains and onto the high plains that span the centre of Mexico. However, the landscape that we travelled through was rewarding, with beautiful mountain views. It was also interesting to watch the landscape change from the humidity and lushness of the lowlands, into a Canadianesque coniferous forest on the mountain slopes and then to fields of golden grasses and scattered trees as we passed over the highest point and cycled through the high mountain meadows.</span><br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiYWvckChG_RpA4N5hx_ler7pY-skjVD29BwfYw3ShUkS9rvnjt79XbYt0kfVkZnMP0s8xfC7Gkqwxyx5knFEsTQ2_0eesQMa_15uEHdyP3hxbKOVWeVmr5vA6THwIlB_W2Ql941SqcCXQ/s1600/PC220605.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; cssfloat: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" n4="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiYWvckChG_RpA4N5hx_ler7pY-skjVD29BwfYw3ShUkS9rvnjt79XbYt0kfVkZnMP0s8xfC7Gkqwxyx5knFEsTQ2_0eesQMa_15uEHdyP3hxbKOVWeVmr5vA6THwIlB_W2Ql941SqcCXQ/s320/PC220605.JPG" width="240" /></a></div><div style="font-weight: normal; line-height: 115%; margin-bottom: 0.35cm;"><span style="background: none transparent scroll repeat 0% 0%;">However, while the landscape was stunning the cycling was pretty tough. It took us five days to get from Mazatlan to Durango and on our second day we cycled only 36kms.. what would normally have taken us less than two hours took us the entire day, cycling in granny gear uphill all day. This wasn't helped by the fact that poor old Julesy got sick and, because we were bush camping (in the not safest of areas), she had to get up in the morning and keep cycling. But she soldiered on like the trooper she is.. unlike myself when I got sick back in Baja and called a sick day and then spent the day sunning myself on the beach! </span></div><div style="font-weight: normal; line-height: 115%; margin-bottom: 0.35cm;"><span style="background: none transparent scroll repeat 0% 0%;">The tough mountain climbing had drained all our Christmas cheer, and only our bikes were celebrating with their tinsel adornment. However, on the fifth day out from the coast we dropped out of the mountains, into the desert and then arrived in the historic town of Durango. We got ourselves back into the festive mode by wondering the streets checking out the impressive Christmas lights and nativity scenes, enjoying a Christmas concert and hanging out with our warm showers hosts, learning the fine art of the pinata party (sing, smash and grab). </span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjzavQ1nSsPqXr727gLzMcA1w5uiRcKaFu9PRjvLJ0xYTFU-vWNjQkklsYIr7ltZhUoGdVOcsSkY72UffrSK-vq_TF-fs9-aLOSUlAWN-3GiyuEpRoL2YKpgc5hrzVHSUkvzzV10fAnlnE/s1600/PC200580.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; cssfloat: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" n4="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjzavQ1nSsPqXr727gLzMcA1w5uiRcKaFu9PRjvLJ0xYTFU-vWNjQkklsYIr7ltZhUoGdVOcsSkY72UffrSK-vq_TF-fs9-aLOSUlAWN-3GiyuEpRoL2YKpgc5hrzVHSUkvzzV10fAnlnE/s320/PC200580.JPG" width="240" /></a></div><div style="font-weight: normal; line-height: 115%; margin-bottom: 0.35cm;"><span style="background: none transparent scroll repeat 0% 0%;">We spent a couple of days being generously entertained by the lovely Frida and Jorge (and the pug Yoda) before we had to jump back on the bikes and head south. From Durango it was a fairly relaxed four day ride to Zacatecas, an old silver mining town built on the slopes of the hills and scattered with beautiful churches and small plazas. We loved poking around the town and sitting on the terrace on the roof of our hostel. In fact we loved it so much the day we had planned to leave we carried all our bikes and bags down the stairs, packed up, rode about 500m to the bakery and then decided to turn around and go back to the hostel and stay a few more days!</span></div><div style="font-weight: normal; line-height: 115%; margin-bottom: 0.35cm;"><span style="background: none transparent scroll repeat 0% 0%;">Christmas found us still sitting on the roof terrace. Our ranks had swollen, having been joined by two other cyclists, Aaron from Hawaii and Pedro from Madrid. We also had arranged to meet up with Jesse (who we had first met in La Paz) and so we had a great cycling gang to spend Christmas with. We did a massive shop and a huge cook-up for Christmas eve dinner and then spent the evening entertaining ourselves with mulled wine and pinata festivities. Baby Jesus managed to find us Christmas morning (in Mexico Baby Jesus brings the presents rather than Santa Claus) and then we spent the day eating leftovers and rubbing our over-filled stomachs. Just a standard Christmas - good food, too much wine and great friends! Feliz Navidad!!</span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj0uGA-ebqBDhLzpctuA-x6zpQSfEGSpgIXGS7mZm7uvXgESbydu5xGnyPzFps-0lRcmc7pku2IjsfS_N6XRoGVsNCSHsgZTG_m9rAyvHWz8Q_6OhJHNlKNwQsP5atqejGEKLqgeWZ6A-M/s1600/PC240649.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" n4="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj0uGA-ebqBDhLzpctuA-x6zpQSfEGSpgIXGS7mZm7uvXgESbydu5xGnyPzFps-0lRcmc7pku2IjsfS_N6XRoGVsNCSHsgZTG_m9rAyvHWz8Q_6OhJHNlKNwQsP5atqejGEKLqgeWZ6A-M/s320/PC240649.JPG" width="320" /></a></div><div style="font-weight: normal; line-height: 115%; margin-bottom: 0.35cm;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none; clear: both; text-align: center;"></div>Megsy Dhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05298194015249543749noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7058581339878947488.post-47486886982031678742010-12-17T05:54:00.000-08:002010-12-17T05:56:15.340-08:00Desert Days: Southern Baja to the Mexican Mainland (28th Nov - 8th Dec '10)<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgbkIdJuw8XAlWN8ORTcuGhrJk8fMev3arLR_pyHF0dEviy5yT7_sWvEXmJ-4baJK8bqVrWR0Q-RrqeY9MusUt-548fZeBIt_HC_8mzuYenknQaJ6arkoas8N5bDr5XurT6t7F1TNdUAmw/s1600/PB290153.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; cssfloat: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" n4="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgbkIdJuw8XAlWN8ORTcuGhrJk8fMev3arLR_pyHF0dEviy5yT7_sWvEXmJ-4baJK8bqVrWR0Q-RrqeY9MusUt-548fZeBIt_HC_8mzuYenknQaJ6arkoas8N5bDr5XurT6t7F1TNdUAmw/s320/PB290153.JPG" width="320" /></a><span style="background: none transparent scroll repeat 0% 0%;"><span style="background: none transparent scroll repeat 0% 0%;">For our last week on Baja the peninsular treated us to another stretch of long, open road, with a tough climb up over a mountain range and then a few days pedalling across a horizon of desert. I thoroughly enjoyed the simple, quiet camping lifestyle that we had on Baja, where our camp life was dictated by the rise and set of the sun and where it once took us a few days to realise that we had crossed into a new time zone. Time didn't really matter so much in Baja.</span></span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgBay8dBUFyxFT84LWGUbeGziM_jRNhgG8muMQyoRNeuDBC7d9or_IMY_-FjIFvzie4DKUyzZC0P2Yee_jEMZSYqWHRj85dZSS_2M5fKNuQ_pmK_lguSlOfa0VyJymPqGTVL6uarv-yvbo/s1600/PB202556.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; cssfloat: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" n4="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgBay8dBUFyxFT84LWGUbeGziM_jRNhgG8muMQyoRNeuDBC7d9or_IMY_-FjIFvzie4DKUyzZC0P2Yee_jEMZSYqWHRj85dZSS_2M5fKNuQ_pmK_lguSlOfa0VyJymPqGTVL6uarv-yvbo/s320/PB202556.JPG" width="320" /></a><span style="background: none transparent scroll repeat 0% 0%;">The last week in Baja, from the town of Loreto to the capital of La Paz </span><span style="background: none transparent scroll repeat 0% 0%;">we were joined on the road by Steve from Alaska, whom Jules and I had first met back in Oregon. We spent a number of nights camped in small towns, ranchos or bush camping in the desert and we enjoyed the evenings watching for shooting stars and entertaining ourselves with word games (it's simple things..). The desert slowly gave way to a number of small roadside stops and then the outskirts of the city of La Paz. We cycled through the town and along to the pretty oceanfront road, finding a nice hostel in the centre of town to spend a couple of days wondering the sights. </span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg95spDqUBYfyludaDyXn83aIQKzK7rTR-1aZlqJ12vJ83EY97SnBrxRFiOYBWx4VcKR77-XpJVHk8Vp0N7yjCcOK8l0pu84LoLWkNYOrHLEQ-SXbrRjvDFrk4KkeQNU0UM0Y1WlZpmFS0/s1600/PC030231.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; cssfloat: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" n4="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg95spDqUBYfyludaDyXn83aIQKzK7rTR-1aZlqJ12vJ83EY97SnBrxRFiOYBWx4VcKR77-XpJVHk8Vp0N7yjCcOK8l0pu84LoLWkNYOrHLEQ-SXbrRjvDFrk4KkeQNU0UM0Y1WlZpmFS0/s320/PC030231.JPG" width="320" /></a></div><div style="font-weight: normal; line-height: 115%; margin-bottom: 0.35cm;"><span style="background: none transparent scroll repeat 0% 0%;">In La Paz we had to say goodbye to Aiden and Steve but we gained a new friend, Jesse, who joined us on the cargo boat for our night trip across to the Mexican mainland. We arrived in Mazatlan on the pacific coast and spent a few days hitting the town's crowded streets, finding the quiet back alleys, absorbing the smells and colours of the market and trying the great assortment of street food. Tacos, tortas, burritos, elote (creamy corn kernels), nachos, ice-creams and churros (deep-fried battery, sugary goodness). In both La Paz and Mazatlan the calibre of street food had jumped up a notch and we spent much of our time happily meandering through the streets stuffing ourselves with food.</span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgV4R9oavguzwel91H_mc6AGVbRvZBY2a01RJdDyEO9KIjI8cS4keOavC6khVte8r5562ZWZJwlnD07u9NbfDvLgtFGGoRw5axoNccQ659FhtJiQoYyRbq2SjtNbBFPaPFSnXLwxtkCtaI/s1600/PC060260.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; cssfloat: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" n4="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgV4R9oavguzwel91H_mc6AGVbRvZBY2a01RJdDyEO9KIjI8cS4keOavC6khVte8r5562ZWZJwlnD07u9NbfDvLgtFGGoRw5axoNccQ659FhtJiQoYyRbq2SjtNbBFPaPFSnXLwxtkCtaI/s320/PC060260.JPG" width="320" /></a></div><div style="font-weight: normal; line-height: 115%; margin-bottom: 0.35cm;"><span style="background: none transparent scroll repeat 0% 0%;">In between all our eating, Jules and I had to weigh up our options and work out our direction for the next couple of months. For much of our trip we have not had to make decisions regarding our route as there have been few options. This was particularly true for Baja where there was only one road that connected to the south of the peninsula. However, from Mazatlan we had a choice, whether to head south along the coast (our original plan) or inland up into the mountains. Our cycling mates, Russ and Lorely, were heading up to the mountains of Sierra Madre and it looked an interesting, if fairly difficult, route... Well we are always up for a challenge, so we headed a</span><span style="background: none transparent scroll repeat 0% 0%;">way from the sun, ocean and surf and towards the badlands, cold weather, and 3000m of climbing - on the road to Durango.. </span></div>Megsy Dhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05298194015249543749noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7058581339878947488.post-45818709553640767702010-11-30T10:34:00.000-08:002010-11-30T14:31:34.463-08:00Donde Esta La Fiesta? Central Baja (19th - 27th Nov '10)<div class="separator" style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none; clear: both; font-weight: normal; line-height: 115%; margin-bottom: 0.35cm; text-align: left;"><span style="background: none transparent scroll repeat 0% 0%;">A snapshot of our time so far in Mexico: amazing, gracious people, a ragged assortment of dogs, Bimbo Cake, desert birthdays and swimming with phosphorescence.......</span></div><div class="separator" style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none; clear: both; font-weight: normal; line-height: 115%; margin-bottom: 0.35cm; text-align: left;">The amazing people I could spent hours rambling on about. All the people we have met, passed by, shared campsites with... all o<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjCWwSdjeYh1np3f3qlT1yTiRm8FO61uqNI9Qop2utGDTOMprTfrXOvJQTEHtik18xzgsqff20J3FkvI7DkMsoJo7RDuuuuax_wpKYwOgvIGKz_MI-4Bhtt4kE676m7-2hxQNroYx1FnWo/s1600/PB212706.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; cssfloat: left; cssfloat: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" ox="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjCWwSdjeYh1np3f3qlT1yTiRm8FO61uqNI9Qop2utGDTOMprTfrXOvJQTEHtik18xzgsqff20J3FkvI7DkMsoJo7RDuuuuax_wpKYwOgvIGKz_MI-4Bhtt4kE676m7-2hxQNroYx1FnWo/s320/PB212706.JPG" width="320" /></a>ur memories are filled with smiling faces. While we can't communicate with ease with everybody the Mexicans are very patient with our faltering attempts to speak Spanish. They still smile and attempt to understand us, even though I get a little stressed when speaking under pressure and have a tendency to blurt out any old thing, such as asking for a room “drunker” (rather than “cheaper”). This tendency can get me into trouble sometimes... the pleasantries that I had been exchanging with the old lady in the laundrette over the folding of clothes (“It's windy isn't it!”, “Oh I like the colour of your t-shirt”) got a little strained when, instead of telling her I would take our friend Lorely's underwear to her, I told her “I touch the underwear of my friend”. </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="background: none transparent scroll repeat 0% 0%;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEixTNxErceCPxWAPH0LI3bXYyKRvjekZveB3pBN8lNiocKMHuEoUKYxBhqAocJELFOwM7IfBYvtVjZ8wUGVWBF3ZUsiY1od5Gwq9HoYb6DzGo8OJ9sZ_sYAjcHvHrdM_kZlsEE4geyu_yM/s1600/PB122363.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; cssfloat: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" ox="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEixTNxErceCPxWAPH0LI3bXYyKRvjekZveB3pBN8lNiocKMHuEoUKYxBhqAocJELFOwM7IfBYvtVjZ8wUGVWBF3ZUsiY1od5Gwq9HoYb6DzGo8OJ9sZ_sYAjcHvHrdM_kZlsEE4geyu_yM/s320/PB122363.JPG" width="240" /></a></span></div><div style="font-weight: normal; line-height: 115%; margin-bottom: 0.35cm;">While the people have been wonderful the dogs have been... interesting. We have a bit of a love-hate relationship with the dogs of Mexico (and there is a lot of them). We often get chased by them as we ride along on our bikes and they keep us awake at night howling and barking when we are in towns. But we have also made friends with a lot of them, and they love love. Mexican dogs seem not to wag their tail but their whole body. </div><div style="font-weight: normal; line-height: 115%; margin-bottom: 0.35cm;"><span style="background: none transparent scroll repeat 0% 0%;">We had one black dog follow us for about 10 km one day, out of town and into the start of the desert. We kept trying to send her home but she would soon start following us again. Finally Aiden tried to give her some water and sent her back, then rode on as fast as possible to lose her. Luckily this last move was successful for as much as we enjoyed our black shadow we didn't want her following us all the way out into the desert! </span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhUPfehOONUHC15tqz96lOB6aX19Bte_eSA21_ET13zciOdh-xtyQF4SoiVAcoYpgjN3jMQOJ6wFGPaq2n-CYNZt4kI6bNqFpFEuhsPJfFtB96BiY2IZDMQ9Vr79_IkwOlSLeLB2olVM34/s1600/PB192524.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; cssfloat: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" ox="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhUPfehOONUHC15tqz96lOB6aX19Bte_eSA21_ET13zciOdh-xtyQF4SoiVAcoYpgjN3jMQOJ6wFGPaq2n-CYNZt4kI6bNqFpFEuhsPJfFtB96BiY2IZDMQ9Vr79_IkwOlSLeLB2olVM34/s320/PB192524.JPG" width="320" /></a></div><div style="font-weight: normal; line-height: 115%; margin-bottom: 0.35cm;"><span style="background: none transparent scroll repeat 0% 0%;">Mexico has also been about the food. Fish Tacos and beer with lime and salt (interestingly good) abound. We have also discovered 'bimbo cake', a variety of cheap cakey goodness, including a delicious cinnamon roll type snack. Sometimes these cakes are almost the only food item for sale in the small, remote shops – but you won't see us complaining! Bimbo cake has got us through long stretches of empty desert.</span><br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgNpX-n_E0-xVeoM0-oNgZgqrCvRuG0esiybUzAd8IZOF1kZWME5bs8bMl4sf57U2qOvLkQDjOSQd_ldQ7twbtdFvkRH7GXd930FjNrqmfTZDnxnmky5hD2wozLyGqwA9UBIza5HFk-YMs/s1600/PB220025.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; cssfloat: right; cssfloat: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" ox="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgNpX-n_E0-xVeoM0-oNgZgqrCvRuG0esiybUzAd8IZOF1kZWME5bs8bMl4sf57U2qOvLkQDjOSQd_ldQ7twbtdFvkRH7GXd930FjNrqmfTZDnxnmky5hD2wozLyGqwA9UBIza5HFk-YMs/s320/PB220025.JPG" width="320" /></a><span style="background: none transparent scroll repeat 0% 0%;">Our cinnamon roll fuelled journey continued from Guerrero Negro, where I last blogged, down the Number 1 Highway (the only highway) through Baja, passing through lots and lots of desert. And then some more. Luckily we were still enjoying the unique cactus and desert landscape, because there wasn't much else to look at. For a few days our flat desert riding was also helped by some great tailwinds so we fairly flew along the highway. </span></div><div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none; font-weight: normal; line-height: 115%; margin-bottom: 0.35cm;"><br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj1cnQUokDtelLSrN9rxfPvfHDpXxolei2otdQN77adbGd7suTnedZZmy94GI27V6b1rVD2dlZa_vcW5t0npaXQpfT-0Pwc_Yibg0ykUEKHNHAsGrh1tuieC4dM4bVY5GtIvmqoAjf9zLo/s1600/PB202624.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; cssfloat: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" ox="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj1cnQUokDtelLSrN9rxfPvfHDpXxolei2otdQN77adbGd7suTnedZZmy94GI27V6b1rVD2dlZa_vcW5t0npaXQpfT-0Pwc_Yibg0ykUEKHNHAsGrh1tuieC4dM4bVY5GtIvmqoAjf9zLo/s320/PB202624.JPG" width="240" /></a><span style="background: none transparent scroll repeat 0% 0%;">The night before Jules birthday we thought we would be camping in the desert but we reached the town of Vizcaina which, despite not appearing on any or our maps or Aiden's GPS, was actually a town of some size with a lovely campsite in a walled orange grove. We decided to make full use of the town, go out for tacos and beers, and stay up as late as 9pm! Party on.</span></div><div style="font-weight: normal; line-height: 115%; margin-bottom: 0.35cm;"><span style="background: none transparent scroll repeat 0% 0%;">Jules birthday celebrations continued the next day with the treat of an exciting ride 70 kms through the desert (this was how I tried to sell it to her). Luckily we arrived that night at San Ignacio, an awesome little oasis town with an old mission and a river with water (something we had not seen for a long time!) plus a bar with cold beer. We camped beneath the date palms on the edge of the lake, and watched the sunset over the water. And of course no birthday celebration (or in fact any day in Mexico) is complete without the presence of Bimbo Cake.</span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjIiCtn0iU1LXUXqcSZSqK5Wnzww88dCKWWIsT020OJlvjS51IlDCjqQ3uX713R4PnDvxkmoCWU7FG7Q94A6TclgadZk7wtr9qLN5K_LVtJodWrN_NhwrOjvLDszzD67O4SyA5PbcClipM/s1600/PB280106.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; cssfloat: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" ox="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjIiCtn0iU1LXUXqcSZSqK5Wnzww88dCKWWIsT020OJlvjS51IlDCjqQ3uX713R4PnDvxkmoCWU7FG7Q94A6TclgadZk7wtr9qLN5K_LVtJodWrN_NhwrOjvLDszzD67O4SyA5PbcClipM/s320/PB280106.JPG" width="320" /></a></div><div style="font-weight: normal; line-height: 115%; margin-bottom: 0.35cm;"><span style="background: none transparent scroll repeat 0% 0%;">With the desert birthday celebrations behind us we reached the coast again, this time on the eastern shores of the Baja peninsular, at the Sea of Cortez where the water is warm and the pace is slow. We slowed down the travels with a rest day in the town of Mulege and then three rest days camped by Coyote Beach. At Coyote Beach the waves lapped metres away from our tent, we swam and we watched dolphins play and the seabirds fish. We had a fire every night on the sand and toasted marshmallows and went night-swimming with the phosphorescence. The night swimming was a trip highlight, making us into giggling kids as we jumped around in the dark waters with the light from the phosphorescence shimmering all around us. Pure cycle touring bliss. A night swim, phosphorescence shining in our hair and then warming ourselves by the fire. Its a good life.</span><br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgolSr3OBo4gW-4efey6vloSN6qhJBVxrx0envJsvhtSKp6fg_SNSSkmjFXjM9St1nt2BvAGmwtW8R2TfvF8t6naArBlKH7lVZ-f6WGTPRPjquCxdGnQSeu9iabD0L-cV2ZC4SKCWTlqkY/s1600/PB192511.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" ox="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgolSr3OBo4gW-4efey6vloSN6qhJBVxrx0envJsvhtSKp6fg_SNSSkmjFXjM9St1nt2BvAGmwtW8R2TfvF8t6naArBlKH7lVZ-f6WGTPRPjquCxdGnQSeu9iabD0L-cV2ZC4SKCWTlqkY/s320/PB192511.JPG" width="240" /></a></div></div>Megsy Dhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05298194015249543749noreply@blogger.com1