My three days between Copacabana and the Isla del Sol had been very pleasant but it was time to embrace Peru. It would be only an 8k hop to the border town of Kasani and being South America it would not take much time to officially wave adios to Bolivia and hola to Peru. I would only have 530k to ride until Cusco, however, I was running out of days before my flight from Lima and so I decided to put the hammer down and bike it in four if possible. The second biggest festival in South America (Inti Raymi) would take place in Cusco in only a few days time so it made sense to get in ahead of the crowd. A stiff head-wind leaned against me the whole way making the days very long. I was also battling far more hills than I was expecting causing me to moan about how inaccurate the bikers heading South were. I couldn't understand how gringos had managed to give me more bogus information than the locals who seem to have no concept of time or distance. Of course, it was only when I explored the region around Cusco that I realised I had had it easy. Everything I had ridden north to Cusco was flat in comparison to the giant peaks and troughs that lay beyond it..
The days at the office were very long for the bike; 8am until the final moments of daylight at 6pm. However, the ride was enjoyable if a little stressful as it's never fun having to work in the afternoon to get to where you want to go. The benefit of having somewhat difficult conditions to bike through is that you become wholly immersed in the task of getting to the crest of the next climb or in trying to beat nightfall. Rolling terrain is far more fun than simply staring at wide open plains, a long straight road and a horizon that may as well be on another planet. The most fun day was when I went chasing a portal into another dimension. The portal was more a blue hole than a black one but unfortunately for me it wasn't a vortex and so it didn't effortlessly suck me in. The clouds were crashing into the peaks of the cordillera I was snaking through, little kids were on the run home from school and hail was bouncing off the roads. If you are already wet then there is no point in stopping and in the middle of nowhere there is never any point in turning back, so all I could do was ride to the round hole of blue that was peering at me through two mountain-sides under a roof of gloomy sky. The head-wind and the long slow climb to 4300ms meant that I was slipping down a water-slide of a mountain as opposed to making progress up it. The false-tops made the patch of blue even more elusive as the clouds sensed my game and decided to race me to it. I had the last laugh though as once I crested the summit I had the most amazing 40k descent down to the the town of Sicuani at 3551ms. The speed of my descent stunned both the locals and the dreary weather allowing me to race back into the searing Andean sunshine with whoops of joy. Flying down the mountain allowed me to drip-dry. It had been a great day, I was never sure if I was going to make it to Cusco in four days so it was a pleasant surprise to actually manage the 166k to Sicuani. While Cusco would be another long day of 138k on tired legs I would save myself a day by successfully completing the ride in four long days.
The ride to Cusco was beautiful; the rolling terrain was fun, the air was heavily scented with wood-chip and fresh hay and at last I was low enough to have trees along the route for company. This was effectively my last day of cycling with a load in South America and while a champagne procession to Cusco would have been more desirable it is always nice to arrive at the end of a trip with an equal mix of exhaustion and elation. Just as I made it to city-limits a puncture tried to spoil the party but if punctures are the biggest problem life can throw at me at the moment then I can repair them smiling.
Cusco is supposed to be a pretty city but if it had been possible to close my eyes until the historic quarter of town where the gringo hangs out then I would have done so. I eventually arrived into the main plaza to loud music and dancing. I did not realise they would celebrate my arrival so my horse and I stuck around to enjoy the scene before it was time to find a stable for the night. As is ever the case in the massive continent of South America; if you stand still long enough somebody you know will eventually bump into you. Andrew from Toronto, who had shared the boat with me to Isla del Sol, greeted me and pointed me in the direction of a good hostel.
Unbelievably, I had concluded my tour of South America by bike. I had arrived in Cusco, the navel of the Inca Empire, having successfully biked the southern half of the empire from Mendoza in Argentina to Cusco in Peru. While it would have been nice to traverse the whole empire and finish the trip in bike-mad Colombia I had already accepted that it would have to be another time as I can only bike the Rockies during northern hemisphere summertime. In biking to Cusco I cycled 2228k through the Argentinian Andes, another 1201k across the Bolivian alti-plano and then a small hop of 530k through Peru. I don't count the unloaded exploration I do by bike but that brings my loaded total to 8574k. I realise that this might seem a lot to some people but to me it is hardly anything at all considering I have been travelling nine months. The nature of my trip is such that it is not all about the bike but to put things in context (and I always take my benchmarks from the best in their field) the pros are currently cycling 3444k around France over three weeks. It has taken me four months to ride the 3959k from Mendoza.
Thus, just Machu Picchu and the briefest of encounters with Lima before I embrace a new continent and yet more climbs; North America and the Rockies await me.
Talk soon
Marco
clouds are pretty but it will mean it's bloody freezing until the sun finds its strength - 3900ms here
Peru rail ... the quicker way to Cusco from Puno
I gulped when I saw this ... thankfully they were having a laugh!
