IT’S PRONOUNCED CHEE-LAY, NOT CHILLY (CHILE)
by Laurie (Rocky) Rockwell
It was a bit of a milk run to Santiago, Chile; Halifax to New York, New York to Miami and Miami to Santiago. The final leg was long and overnight, but the plane was only half full so we were allowed to change seats, fold up the arm rests and stretch out for some fitful sleep.
Santiago is a huge modern city of five million people with an efficient subway system, smog and a cell phone in every ear. We decided to go a couple of days early to get acclimatized and see the city. There was no jet lag as the difference in time zone was only one hour.
My buddy, Carl Hartzman, and I spent the days walking the streets and seeing the sights. We would leave the hotel right after breakfast and walk the whole day. It was more of a stroll, but we covered large sections of the city, visited museums, churches, cathedrals, public buildings, historic sites and many similar points of interest. Carl has a pretty good grasp of Spanish and that was a big help day to day.
Santiago sits on a flat valley floor which made walking very easy. Although the city is flat there are several hills jutting up out of the valley floor right in the middle of the city and these have been turned in tourist attractions.
One of the larger hills, Cerro San Cristobal, is 300m high and has a zoo half way up. At the top is a Catholic shrine with a massive 14 metre high statue of the Virgin Mary donated by France in 1920. We went up twice; once by a cable rail car on tracks, stopping to see the zoo first, and the second time by cable gondola just to see the sunset.
Another small hill close to our hotel, Cerro Santa Lucia at 70m, was been turned into something like a castle with gardens, water fountains and pathways. Construction began in 1872 and the turret at the very top offers a wonderful view of the city.
Cerro Santa Lucia also has a noon day cannon that went off right over our heads and scared the bejeebers out of us!
Santiago sits in a valley surrounded by the Andes Mountains so smog and haze hangs over the city much of the time. Unlike North America there seems to be very little attempt at controlling pollution caused by motor vehicles.
Everywhere we went we saw models of small cars, trucks and motorcycles that we never heard of. Some of the vehicles were made in Europe and Japan for foreign markets, but we suspected that many were made in China. It was obvious that all of the motorcycles except Honda were made in China or in local factories owned by China. There were so many oddball bike names that we lost track of how many.
The bikes were mainly single cylinder 250cc models, and smaller, and clearly knockoffs of the Japanese bikes. One of our biggest laughs was when we spotted a “Talkasaki†motorcycle! How obvious is that?
Getting something to eat that resembled Canadian food was a little difficult, but with Carl doing the translation of the menus we ate quite well. All the hotels in Santiago and on the tour have breakfast included and the array was plentiful and tasty.
Carl introduced me to Chile and Peru’s national drink, a Pisco Sour (a brandy based cocktail). As a non-drinker, I have to admit that it was very tasty and during the tour we had one many evenings at the hotel bar to relax.
From Santiago we flew 90 minutes north to Antofagasta in Chile to meet the tour guides and the other members of the group. We had no idea who they were or where they were from, but quite by chance we happened to meet the three Americans on the tour at the Santiago airport. They were waiting to board the same flight to Antofagasta and it was very refreshing to hear English spoken again.
Richard is a doctor from North Dakota and he had his two very attractive but unmarried daughters with him; Katherine, age 33 (who is also an MD) and Meghan age 25. Katherine had spent some time in South America and was quite fluent in Spanish.
Roberto and Sonja, the tour owners, met the five of us at the airport and arranged for a taxi to the Holiday Inn where we met four Belgians, Michel (Mike), Luc, Frans and Jacinta (wife of Mike). They spoke perfect English as did Roberto and Sonja. Everyone had a great sense of humor, and we were all great friends in no time at all.
Antofagasta is a seaside city on the Pacific Ocean and that was the first time I had ever seen that ocean. The hotel was only 100m from the ocean so I made a point to go down to the beach and put my hands in the water. I had now touched the Atlantic and Pacific oceans.
The next morning we assembled in the parking garage and were assigned our bikes. Five of us rode BMW GS 650’s and two others rode the larger 1200’s for carrying a pillion. Katherine rode with Roberto, the group leader, Meghan rode with Richard and Jacinta rode in the chase truck. There were only seven bikes in all.
I’m 70 years old, Carl is 67, Luc is 43, Mike is 40, Frans is 63 and Richard is 60. We were a group of nature and experienced riders, but Carl and Richard had ridden in Chile and Argentina before and were the most experienced of all in this terrain.
Richard was a bit of a comedian and named us The Magnificent Seven. This was later changed to The Wild Hogs and eventually The Wild Llamas!
Mike was also a comedian and he kept us in stitches at dinner with his quick wit and funny stories.
The three Belgian men turned out to be fast and aggressive riders so Carl and I stayed out of their way and rode at the back – often spread apart as much as a kilometre or more. The members of the group stopped many times to take pictures so we were often well spread out anyway. The chase truck always stayed behind the last rider so there was never any danger of getting lost or being left behind. This was a fact that I forgot as will be explained later.
Sonja drove the chase truck and she and Roberto were always in constant communication by satellite telephone so they always knew where everyone was.
The first day of the tour was up into the mountains and across the Atacama Desert. When I crested the mountain and saw the desert down below spread out for kilometres and kilometres ahead of me, my jaw dropped. Other than the road it was a place of absolutely nothing! Just sand, hills and dirt, but the landscape is spectacular and beautiful in its own way.
Along the way we came upon a huge rock by the side of the road with a large plaque attached indicating that this was the line for the Tropic of Capricorn so naturally everyone posed for pictures.
Hours later, after we crossed the desert, we came to the vast salt flats stretching to the mountains on the horizon. This place was a jaw dropper too! To stand in the middle of the desert and salt flats and see nothing but the natural beauty as far as the eye could see gave you the feeling of being on another planet – and the feeling of being just an insignificant speck of dirt.
I have lived all my life in Canada surrounded by dense green forests, rivers, lakes, green grass and lush farmland. To find myself in the middle of such desolate places with not a drop of water or a blade of grass anywhere was a real eye opener!
For some strange reason, out in the middle of the desert, people like to burn tires. This leaves behind rings of high tensile wire that is used in the bead of the tire. These rings of wire are along the shoulders of the highway and at various places such as wide spaces in the road used as truck rest stops.
Our group has just pulled into one of these wide spaces and dismounted. Carl was quite far behind and as he pulled in he ran over one of those rings of wire which wrapped around his rear wheel locking it up solid. He came to a sliding stop with dust and gravel flying everywhere. It took Roberto half an hour to cut away the wire and free the wheel.
Along the way we stopped at a salt flat called Salar de Atacama to see flamingos in their natural habitat before arriving at San Pedro de Atacama and the hotel La Casa de Don Tomas. It’s a sandy and dusty little town with lots of cozy restaurants and shops. The adobe-like exterior of the single level hotel masked the excellent facilities and comfortable beds inside.
The next morning we had to be up at 3:30 AM and ready to leave at 4:30 AM by bus for the Tatio geyser fields which spout their best displays at dawn. We were pounded over the most miserable rough and rutted gravel road for two hours in the dark before finally reaching the geyser fields at dawn and at -10C! Brrrrr!
We were at 4200m and breathing was an effort. The altitude made me a bit woozy so I had to slow down and pace myself.
The geyser fields were spectacular as they spewed hot water with a roar high into the sky to meet the sun gently rising over the mountains. The whole scene was something out of this world and well worth the rough ride to get there. All that remained was the equally rough ride to get back to the hotel, but at least it was in bright sunshine and we were able to view the rough and rugged scenery.
At the geyser field there was one pool of water that was cool enough for swimming (40C) so Richard, his two daughters and Mike, took the plunge. It was quite a shock when they had to leave the hot water and change clothes in the freezing temperatures. I’m glad it was them and not me!
On the return trip we crossed the Altiplano plateau between Chile and Bolivia. Along the route the bus stopped at a tiny hamlet of only a few buildings where a local native had a BBQ going and cooking llama meat and vegetables on a stick shish kabob style. At first I shied away from it, but I was convinced to try the meat and to my surprise it was delicious.
During the return trip we saw wild llamas and a large ostrich-like bird called the nandu.
We were back at the hotel by noon and free to do as we wished, but at 5:00 PM we mounted up for a tour of Moon Valley, the Valle de la Luna, just 13km away. The torn and shredded landscape was like nothing I had ever imagined. It was indeed like the surface of the moon - or Mars! In fact it’s so much like the surface of Mars that NASA tested their Mars rovers here.
We pulled over near a large parking lot for busses as this was a place you could safely climb to the top of a small mountain for a high view of the landscape and the setting sun. Everyone in our group made the climb, but I decided to not go because I was reluctant to try it at that altitude. Roberto urged me to go so I plodded my way to the very top. The view was spectacular and worth the slow climb to get there.
We arrived back at the hotel after dark and I was awestruck by the stars and how bright they are at that altitude in the thin clear air. We had dinner at a local restaurant, and then dove into the sheets. It had been a very long day!
The next day we headed west towards the ocean through endless roads that twisted and turned up and down mountain ranges, through tunnels, valleys, mountain passes and around wicked curves.
In Chile most of the roads have guard rails and the curves are marked with clear signs indicating the severity of the curves. Peru is a poor country, and as I found out much later, far less generous with guard rails and road signs.
The road along the Pacific Ocean was as smooth as glass as were most of the roads on the tour. We followed the roller coaster highway for one of the most entertaining rides up to that point. Unfortunately, there was a low overcast with fog or haze so the coastal views were often obscured.
As I rode along by myself I could see something in my lane well ahead. It looked like a stick of wood, but as I approached I could see that it was moving. I moved to the other lane so as to not hit it and to my great surprise it was some kind of penguin waddling down the road. My buddy, Carl, also saw it and we couldn’t believe our eyes!
We arrived in the city of Iquique late in the day after a 400+km ride. All of the cities and towns we stayed in have a central square with water fountains, beautiful gardens and park benches. It may have been winter, but everything was in bloom.
The larger cities all have a monstrous Roman Catholic cathedral and if we had time we went inside to see the gold and silver clad alters as well as the impressive architecture. One such church in Santiago had a silver alter that was out of this world!
The next day we crossed into Peru at Arica on our way to Tacna after a tedious two hour and an often comical ritual at the border. This consisted of waiting in six different lines and going to various buildings to get various documents stamped by various government officials. With that ordeal finally over we motored on.
We stopped and toured an abandoned saltpeter mine in a place called Humberstone. It’s a Unesco World Heritage site dating back to 1872. One can only imagine the back breaking work that went on there in the middle of nowhere.
That evening we slept in the Gran Hotel Tacna. This border city has a rough reputation with a high crime rate, but Carl and I were careful as we walked the streets.
The following day was one of the best riding days so far with endless smooth roads, lots of curves and hairpins running up and down the sides of the very high mountains. Our destination was Arequipa, the second largest city in Peru. It’s a beautiful city at 2380m above sea level with a magnificent central square right across from the hotel.
The traffic in Arequipa is akin to a beehive with no rules of the road. It’s everyone for themselves and very scary. The only riding we did was to get into the city and get out – and that was hazardous enough!
Carl and I took a walking tour of the city and as we strolled along we were stopped on a crowded street by a very pretty lady police officer who warned us about securing our money and cameras as there are “bad people†around who will grab and run.
Guinea pig is considered a delicacy in South America, but the idea of eating a kids pet didn’t sit very well with me. Carl, on the other hand, is more adventurous and had it that evening at dinner. I had to admit that as served you would have no idea what it was until you were told. It looked like any other meat serving. Carl tells me it was delicious, but I’ll take his word for it!
On the way to Chivay in the Colca Valley at 3700m we reach the highest point of the ride of 4900m. It’s cold up there and the air is very thin. You don’t notice the lack of oxygen while you’re riding, but walking a few brisk steps soon has you gasping for air with a dizzy head
.
The ride was through incredible mountain passes, valleys, high mountains, and on some of the most curved and hairpin roads imaginable. The scenery is rugged but beautiful. The mountains often tower over us and it’s as if we’re in another world. It’s so remote that sometimes it’s hard to believe you’re still on planet earth!
At various places along the way we rode by native people dressed in colourful traditional clothing displaying all manner of hand crafts for sale out in the middle of nowhere! I often wondered how they got there and where do they go at night?
The merchandise is colourful and well made, but we have to ride on by most of the time and can only take a fleeting glance. Some of our rest stops are at the sites of some of these vendors and the group did get to do some shopping along the way. The knitted and woven products such as sweaters, caps, scarves, shawls, blankets and tapestries are beautiful and usually dirt cheap.
In most of the cities and towns there is a permanent central craft market, but there are also wandering vendors trying to sell you just about anything you can imagine. They take no for an answer and don’t pester you, but after a while you get sick of being asked by another person a minute later – and every other minute later.
We left Arequipa a little later than usual as we don’t have as far to go to get to Chivay at 3800m. We cross the Aquada National Reserve and see plenty of wild llamas and the endangered antelope called a Vicuna.
Chivay is a charming little town and we stay in lovely cottages at the Hotel Casa Andina. The place reminded me of a Spanish ranch or plantation with its stone and mortar exterior walls. The central town square is pretty, but a block or two away from the square you see how dusty and dingy the town is. The buildings are made of adobe brick with no colour. Everything looks like earth. Many of the businesses look the same way on the outside, but inside they’re usually quite nice. You can’t always judge a book by the cover.
Very early the next day we journeyed by car to the Colca Valley to see the Condors as they soar in the sky on the updrafts like gliders. Condors are huge birds and look like eagles, but are much larger. They have the ugliest head on a bird that I have ever seen – something like a vulture. The Incas call this the Sacred Valley. It’s deeper than the Grand Canyon, but much narrower at the bottom.
Getting there is two hours each way over terribly rough dirt roads carved out of the mountains, but along the way we stop at a small town called Yanque to watch the native Indian girls dancing in pairs around the central fountain in the square. They are young girls in traditional native clothing and boys are not allowed to participate for cultural reasons.
Also at the square are their parents or other adults with various tame wildlife (birds, baby and full grown llamas) that you can have your picture taken with for a fee.
We finally reach the top of the mountain, but there are no Condors. It’s still very early and the sun hasn’t yet warmed the valley. Our patience is finally rewarded and the birds come into view well below us. As time passes they move up to our level on the warming air and they are easy to see.
We are at a very high altitude and breathing is an effort so we walk slowly so as to not get dizzy. Fainting is common if you’re not careful as I found out later.
We’re back at the hotel around noon and free to do as we wish for the rest of the day. Carl and I wander around the town, check out the craft market and have a bite to eat at a restaurant that is rustic to say the least.
In Peru, you dare not drink the water. You must drink only bottled water, soft drinks, fruit juices, beer, or any liquid that has been processed. The same goes for farm produce with the skin on. Remove the skin and you may be OK.
Their farming and sanitation practices are suspect and the bacteria can make you very sick. You have no idea what the source of the water is, how the produce was handled or what was used as fertilizer or pesticide. The local people are born into that environment and have no problems at all. No so with we delicate tourists who are used to fresh and clean.
That evening we ate at the hotel restaurant while being entertained by a talented native musical group in traditional clothing. Near the end of the performance a young teenage girl appeared, also dressed in traditional garb, and danced to the music
On the wall of the restaurant there were many colourful hats hanging as decorations. The youngster went over to the wall, removed a hat, danced with it for a moment and then placed it on Carl’s bald head while dragging him up onto the floor for a spirited jig-like dance. We laughed, clapped and took pictures. When the dance was over Carl swiftly put the hat on my head and the girl dragged me onto the floor for another fast paced dance much to the delight of all!
After 3-4 minutes of doing the two-step (or whatever it was that I was doing) at that altitude, I was exhausted!
The following day we’re again up early with our destination being Cusco, the original capital of the Inca Empire thousands of years ago. We leave at dawn at -5C with 650k ahead of us. Some of the others were freezing half to death, but we tough Canadians hardly minded it at all.
At times the going was slow due to many small towns with speed bumps, dogs running loose, pedestrians, scooter taxis, bicycles, farm animals on the road along with llamas and sheep.
In spite of everything we arrived in Cusco at 3360m by mid afternoon where I was separated from the group due to the crazy traffic and a traffic light. I had no idea where I was and just kept riding straight ahead. The group had pulled over in the shade of some trees, but I didn’t see them and rode on by. I was too busy trying to not get killed!
I’ll admit that I was in a bit of a panic and should have waited for the chase truck to catch up and guide me, but I didn’t think of it at the time. All I could think of was to try and catch up. I didn’t know the name of the hotel and couldn’t speak Spanish even if I had asked a police officer for directions.
When I figured I had gone too far I made my way back with the intent of stopping on the main street where Roberto or Sonja might see me in my bright red jacket. On the way back I saw Roberto coming towards me and we were soon together. We pulled over and he used the satellite telephone to herd the others to us. From there it was a short run to the plush Hotel Jose Antonio where we stayed for two days.
Cusco has a population of just over 300 thousand and is the center for everything related to the Inca culture and history. It’s a nice city and it’s quite easy to find your way around. There are many original Inca stone walls in the city that have formed the foundation for modern buildings. These were easy to find and photograph.
Cusco is a destination for international tourism and the city was teeming with tourists from all over the world. Two middle-aged British women stopped us and asked for directions which we found amusing considering we had only been there a few hours.
As it turned out we knew the directions to the Inca walls as we had just figured it out for ourselves.
We were staying in Cusco for two days and not doing any riding so we explored this historic city on foot. The tour included free tickets to museums, historic buildings and the Inca sites and ruins.
Plaza de Armas is the beautiful city square bordered by a massive cathedral as well as shops selling everything under the sun. Roaming vendors were as thick as flies and a bit bothersome. You simply got tired of saying no!
That evening the entire group went to an upscale restaurant which had an excellent buffet. Probably because of the international tourist trade, the food selection was the closest to North American food that I had seen so far and I ate heartily!
We were entertained by a talented musical group of singers and dancers all in traditional Inca clothing. I was selected by one of the girl dancers to join in the dancing, but I had danced enough a couple of days ago so I handed her over to Mike who gladly joined in. Everyone in the group was not shy about dancing or acting the fool.
On the second day we were up early to catch a bus tour to Inca ruins high above the city. It may have been winter, but it was very hot (25C) so we dressed lightly and took plenty of water. There had not been a drop of rain and there would be none for the entire trip. Winter is the dry season and summer is the wet season.
High above Cusco we had a grand view of the city as we explored the Inca ruins and took plenty of photographs. How the Incas built their cities with such precision and how the massive rocks were carved, moved and fitted thousands of years ago is almost beyond belief. The foundations have been sitting there for centuries and haven’t moved a fraction. The fit of the stones is still as precise and tight as it was when they were constructed.
We left Cusco at noon on the second day for a short run (80km) to the Sacred Valley and the town of Urubamba. On the way Roberto took us on a side trip on a very rough dirt mountain road to a salt mine with a perilous drop hundreds of metres below. Looking down on the mining operation from the mountain it looked like a honeycomb. The mining is done through a process of evaporation leaving the salt to be gathered for processing and shipment.
Back on the paved road, from the top of the mountain it wound down to the town of Urubamba in a series of hairpins and switchbacks. Most of the riding in the mountains was like that; up one side to a plateau and then down the other side through a series of often severe hairpin turns.
This was repeated dozens of times throughout the tour and was pure decadence for bike riders, but you had to pay attention and watch you speed! There were no guard rails to keep you from dropping hundreds of metres.
Roberto led us through the town and then swung onto a dirt road leading up the side of a mountain slope past modest earth homes that were probably built by the natives themselves. It was rough and dusty and after about three kilometres I couldn’t help but think, “Where in hell is he taking us?â€
Shortly, we arrived at a palatial resort on the side of the mountain called Libertador Valle Sagrado Lodge where we were to stay for two nights. It was a stunning place with individual houses laid out amid flower gardens, ponds, running water and tiny bridges.
During the day we rode long and hard in unbelievably remote and rugged terrains, but each night we stayed in first class accommodations.
The next day we took a bus tour of two more Inca ruins. It was another hot day and we went up to even higher altitudes. The trek among the ruins was rough with a lot of climbing. I began to feel exhausted and had to sit down on a rock to rest. Carl did the same thing and as we sat there I began to feel faint. I told Carl that I thought I was going to pass out so he hustled me into the shade to rest out of the hot sun. I sat down and leaned my back against a cold stone wall. That in itself was very refreshing. I didn’t pass out, but I came very close!
A passing lady tourist gave Carl a cotton ball drenched in rubbing alcohol which was rubbed on my face, neck and arms. The cooling effect of the evaporating alcohol and drinks of water soon revived me and we were once again on our way at a slower pace.
We went to a second Inca ruin, but the walking was less stressful and I had no trouble coping. At that ruin we saw how the Incas irrigated water to their complex and that water is still flowing today. It was simply amazing!
We learned that just a few days earlier, singer, Olivia Newton John, and her new husband held a second wedding ceremony here conducted by an Inca priest with all three of them dressed in traditional Inca clothing. The ceremony was conducted right in front of the stone wall that featured the Inca water works. When I got home the pictures were in the celebrity magazines and I recognized the place immediately.
That evening I skipped dinner and went to bed early. I woke up twelve hours later!
The next morning we were once again up early and taken by bus to meet the Peruvian railway in the little town of Ollantaytambo – little town, big name. From there it was a two hour train ride to another small town called Aquas Calientes at the base of the mountains right on the Urubamba River. From there a bus took us up the side of the mountain at a snails pace through hairpin bends on a dirt road. At the end of the road we had to walk a considerable distance up the side of the mountain to reach the top.
As we crested the top of the mountain, there before our eyes, was the jewel in the crown – Machu Picchu! Ever since I learned what Machu Picchu was I dreamed of seeing it one day – and there it was! I couldn’t have been more thrilled!
Of all the Inca cities and complexes this was the only one the Spanish did not find and plunder. It doesn’t seem plausible that the Spaniards didn’t know about it, but apparently they didn’t. The city was untouched and life continued until it was eventually abandoned for mysterious reasons.
American explorer and archeologist, Hiram Bingham, learned of the site from a local farmer who agreed to lead him up the mountain where he found the lost city in 1911. Bingham was in that area looking for other Inca lost cities when by chance he met the farmer. The Indians and farmers knew it was up there, but had no interest in it since it was all but inaccessible and had been completely grown over for centuries.
A guide was included in our Machu Picchu tour and we saw all the features and wonders of the abandoned ancient Inca city in the sky. The tour took about three hours and it was fantastic! This was the highlight of the bike tour for me.
From there it was back down the mountain by bus. We had lunch in the town with still enough time to walk around, see the town square, listen to street musicians, shop and relax before boarding the train later that afternoon.
Once aboard the train and underway we were served a meal similar to what you get on a plane. We were then treated to music and dance by one of the conductors dressed in a traditional face mask and clothing. This was followed by a fashion show by the very pretty lady conductor who modeled local hand crafted clothing that was for sale. Richard, his two daughters and Frans also joined in as models much to our delight. Our bus driver picked us up at the train station and returned us to the lodge. It had been another wonderful day!
The next morning we were up early and on the road heading for the city of Puno on the shores of Lake Titicaca. The temperature was near the freezing mark and colder at the higher elevations, but the sun was soon up and it was very comfortable for riding.
From Puno we were to take a ferry to Uros Island which is a man-made island constructed from reeds by the Indians who live there. Their houses and boats are also constructed from reeds.
I was well rested and feeling better than I had in a couple of days. The air was fresh and clean, the road was smooth and I was enjoying the ride. I was looking forward to seeing Puno and Uros Island, but unfortunately I didn’t make it. I ran off the road into a concrete drainage ditch at an unmarked decreasing radius curve. I wasn’t going fast, but it was too fast for that curve.
I was riding in bright sunshine and the curve was in the shadow of the sheer mountain wall. When I rode into the shadow I could then see the road clearly, but it was turning left and I wasn’t. I knew in an instant that I couldn’t make it, but I tried as hard as I could and was dragging hard parts on the pavement. The curve was simply too tight and I highsided when the knobby tires caught the dirt shoulder.
The nearest town with medical facilities was about 12k away and I was taken there for x-rays which showed fractures to the head of the humerus in my shoulder and several fractures to bones in my right hand.
It was decided to immobilize my shoulder and hand in a huge upper body cast (plaster) so I could travel back to Canada ASAP. This was done and Carl and I were taken by a rattle trap 35 year-old falling apart Jeep ambulance to Cusco three hours away where there was an international airport. It was a wild ride, and having survived the bike crash, I wondered if I was going to survive the ambulance ride!
By the time we reached Cusco it was late on Saturday and everything is closed on Sunday. We checked back into the Hotel Jose Antonio which we had just left a few days earlier.
Carl spent most of Sunday on the telephone making long distance calls trying to book flights home. He finally succeeded and we flew to Lima Monday morning to catch a connecting flight to New York with a connecting flight to Halifax. I didn’t arrive at my house until 2:30 AM Wednesday morning. For more that 2 ½ days we lived in airports and on planes to get home.
I was admitted to hospital for surgery Wednesday morning and I had a shoulder replacement the next day. A cast (plaster) was also put on my hand and forearm for the next four weeks.
After Carl and I left for Cusco in the ambulance the bike tour continued and they did get to see Uros Island after all. The following day was simply a ride back to home base in Antofagasta so we didn’t miss very much.
It was an absolutely wonderful adventure and I have no regrets about going. I saw things and did things that I never would have otherwise experienced in my lifetime.
As I undergo extensive physiotherapy I’m optimistic for the future, but whatever happens I still have the memories and photos to remind me of one of the most fantastic trips of my life.
by Laurie (Rocky) Rockwell
It was a bit of a milk run to Santiago, Chile; Halifax to New York, New York to Miami and Miami to Santiago. The final leg was long and overnight, but the plane was only half full so we were allowed to change seats, fold up the arm rests and stretch out for some fitful sleep.
Santiago is a huge modern city of five million people with an efficient subway system, smog and a cell phone in every ear. We decided to go a couple of days early to get acclimatized and see the city. There was no jet lag as the difference in time zone was only one hour.
My buddy, Carl Hartzman, and I spent the days walking the streets and seeing the sights. We would leave the hotel right after breakfast and walk the whole day. It was more of a stroll, but we covered large sections of the city, visited museums, churches, cathedrals, public buildings, historic sites and many similar points of interest. Carl has a pretty good grasp of Spanish and that was a big help day to day.
Santiago sits on a flat valley floor which made walking very easy. Although the city is flat there are several hills jutting up out of the valley floor right in the middle of the city and these have been turned in tourist attractions.
One of the larger hills, Cerro San Cristobal, is 300m high and has a zoo half way up. At the top is a Catholic shrine with a massive 14 metre high statue of the Virgin Mary donated by France in 1920. We went up twice; once by a cable rail car on tracks, stopping to see the zoo first, and the second time by cable gondola just to see the sunset.
Another small hill close to our hotel, Cerro Santa Lucia at 70m, was been turned into something like a castle with gardens, water fountains and pathways. Construction began in 1872 and the turret at the very top offers a wonderful view of the city.
Cerro Santa Lucia also has a noon day cannon that went off right over our heads and scared the bejeebers out of us!
Santiago sits in a valley surrounded by the Andes Mountains so smog and haze hangs over the city much of the time. Unlike North America there seems to be very little attempt at controlling pollution caused by motor vehicles.
Everywhere we went we saw models of small cars, trucks and motorcycles that we never heard of. Some of the vehicles were made in Europe and Japan for foreign markets, but we suspected that many were made in China. It was obvious that all of the motorcycles except Honda were made in China or in local factories owned by China. There were so many oddball bike names that we lost track of how many.
The bikes were mainly single cylinder 250cc models, and smaller, and clearly knockoffs of the Japanese bikes. One of our biggest laughs was when we spotted a “Talkasaki†motorcycle! How obvious is that?
Getting something to eat that resembled Canadian food was a little difficult, but with Carl doing the translation of the menus we ate quite well. All the hotels in Santiago and on the tour have breakfast included and the array was plentiful and tasty.
Carl introduced me to Chile and Peru’s national drink, a Pisco Sour (a brandy based cocktail). As a non-drinker, I have to admit that it was very tasty and during the tour we had one many evenings at the hotel bar to relax.
From Santiago we flew 90 minutes north to Antofagasta in Chile to meet the tour guides and the other members of the group. We had no idea who they were or where they were from, but quite by chance we happened to meet the three Americans on the tour at the Santiago airport. They were waiting to board the same flight to Antofagasta and it was very refreshing to hear English spoken again.
Richard is a doctor from North Dakota and he had his two very attractive but unmarried daughters with him; Katherine, age 33 (who is also an MD) and Meghan age 25. Katherine had spent some time in South America and was quite fluent in Spanish.
Roberto and Sonja, the tour owners, met the five of us at the airport and arranged for a taxi to the Holiday Inn where we met four Belgians, Michel (Mike), Luc, Frans and Jacinta (wife of Mike). They spoke perfect English as did Roberto and Sonja. Everyone had a great sense of humor, and we were all great friends in no time at all.
Antofagasta is a seaside city on the Pacific Ocean and that was the first time I had ever seen that ocean. The hotel was only 100m from the ocean so I made a point to go down to the beach and put my hands in the water. I had now touched the Atlantic and Pacific oceans.
The next morning we assembled in the parking garage and were assigned our bikes. Five of us rode BMW GS 650’s and two others rode the larger 1200’s for carrying a pillion. Katherine rode with Roberto, the group leader, Meghan rode with Richard and Jacinta rode in the chase truck. There were only seven bikes in all.
I’m 70 years old, Carl is 67, Luc is 43, Mike is 40, Frans is 63 and Richard is 60. We were a group of nature and experienced riders, but Carl and Richard had ridden in Chile and Argentina before and were the most experienced of all in this terrain.
Richard was a bit of a comedian and named us The Magnificent Seven. This was later changed to The Wild Hogs and eventually The Wild Llamas!
Mike was also a comedian and he kept us in stitches at dinner with his quick wit and funny stories.
The three Belgian men turned out to be fast and aggressive riders so Carl and I stayed out of their way and rode at the back – often spread apart as much as a kilometre or more. The members of the group stopped many times to take pictures so we were often well spread out anyway. The chase truck always stayed behind the last rider so there was never any danger of getting lost or being left behind. This was a fact that I forgot as will be explained later.
Sonja drove the chase truck and she and Roberto were always in constant communication by satellite telephone so they always knew where everyone was.
The first day of the tour was up into the mountains and across the Atacama Desert. When I crested the mountain and saw the desert down below spread out for kilometres and kilometres ahead of me, my jaw dropped. Other than the road it was a place of absolutely nothing! Just sand, hills and dirt, but the landscape is spectacular and beautiful in its own way.
Along the way we came upon a huge rock by the side of the road with a large plaque attached indicating that this was the line for the Tropic of Capricorn so naturally everyone posed for pictures.
Hours later, after we crossed the desert, we came to the vast salt flats stretching to the mountains on the horizon. This place was a jaw dropper too! To stand in the middle of the desert and salt flats and see nothing but the natural beauty as far as the eye could see gave you the feeling of being on another planet – and the feeling of being just an insignificant speck of dirt.
I have lived all my life in Canada surrounded by dense green forests, rivers, lakes, green grass and lush farmland. To find myself in the middle of such desolate places with not a drop of water or a blade of grass anywhere was a real eye opener!
For some strange reason, out in the middle of the desert, people like to burn tires. This leaves behind rings of high tensile wire that is used in the bead of the tire. These rings of wire are along the shoulders of the highway and at various places such as wide spaces in the road used as truck rest stops.
Our group has just pulled into one of these wide spaces and dismounted. Carl was quite far behind and as he pulled in he ran over one of those rings of wire which wrapped around his rear wheel locking it up solid. He came to a sliding stop with dust and gravel flying everywhere. It took Roberto half an hour to cut away the wire and free the wheel.
Along the way we stopped at a salt flat called Salar de Atacama to see flamingos in their natural habitat before arriving at San Pedro de Atacama and the hotel La Casa de Don Tomas. It’s a sandy and dusty little town with lots of cozy restaurants and shops. The adobe-like exterior of the single level hotel masked the excellent facilities and comfortable beds inside.
The next morning we had to be up at 3:30 AM and ready to leave at 4:30 AM by bus for the Tatio geyser fields which spout their best displays at dawn. We were pounded over the most miserable rough and rutted gravel road for two hours in the dark before finally reaching the geyser fields at dawn and at -10C! Brrrrr!
We were at 4200m and breathing was an effort. The altitude made me a bit woozy so I had to slow down and pace myself.
The geyser fields were spectacular as they spewed hot water with a roar high into the sky to meet the sun gently rising over the mountains. The whole scene was something out of this world and well worth the rough ride to get there. All that remained was the equally rough ride to get back to the hotel, but at least it was in bright sunshine and we were able to view the rough and rugged scenery.
At the geyser field there was one pool of water that was cool enough for swimming (40C) so Richard, his two daughters and Mike, took the plunge. It was quite a shock when they had to leave the hot water and change clothes in the freezing temperatures. I’m glad it was them and not me!
On the return trip we crossed the Altiplano plateau between Chile and Bolivia. Along the route the bus stopped at a tiny hamlet of only a few buildings where a local native had a BBQ going and cooking llama meat and vegetables on a stick shish kabob style. At first I shied away from it, but I was convinced to try the meat and to my surprise it was delicious.
During the return trip we saw wild llamas and a large ostrich-like bird called the nandu.
We were back at the hotel by noon and free to do as we wished, but at 5:00 PM we mounted up for a tour of Moon Valley, the Valle de la Luna, just 13km away. The torn and shredded landscape was like nothing I had ever imagined. It was indeed like the surface of the moon - or Mars! In fact it’s so much like the surface of Mars that NASA tested their Mars rovers here.
We pulled over near a large parking lot for busses as this was a place you could safely climb to the top of a small mountain for a high view of the landscape and the setting sun. Everyone in our group made the climb, but I decided to not go because I was reluctant to try it at that altitude. Roberto urged me to go so I plodded my way to the very top. The view was spectacular and worth the slow climb to get there.
We arrived back at the hotel after dark and I was awestruck by the stars and how bright they are at that altitude in the thin clear air. We had dinner at a local restaurant, and then dove into the sheets. It had been a very long day!
The next day we headed west towards the ocean through endless roads that twisted and turned up and down mountain ranges, through tunnels, valleys, mountain passes and around wicked curves.
In Chile most of the roads have guard rails and the curves are marked with clear signs indicating the severity of the curves. Peru is a poor country, and as I found out much later, far less generous with guard rails and road signs.
The road along the Pacific Ocean was as smooth as glass as were most of the roads on the tour. We followed the roller coaster highway for one of the most entertaining rides up to that point. Unfortunately, there was a low overcast with fog or haze so the coastal views were often obscured.
As I rode along by myself I could see something in my lane well ahead. It looked like a stick of wood, but as I approached I could see that it was moving. I moved to the other lane so as to not hit it and to my great surprise it was some kind of penguin waddling down the road. My buddy, Carl, also saw it and we couldn’t believe our eyes!
We arrived in the city of Iquique late in the day after a 400+km ride. All of the cities and towns we stayed in have a central square with water fountains, beautiful gardens and park benches. It may have been winter, but everything was in bloom.
The larger cities all have a monstrous Roman Catholic cathedral and if we had time we went inside to see the gold and silver clad alters as well as the impressive architecture. One such church in Santiago had a silver alter that was out of this world!
The next day we crossed into Peru at Arica on our way to Tacna after a tedious two hour and an often comical ritual at the border. This consisted of waiting in six different lines and going to various buildings to get various documents stamped by various government officials. With that ordeal finally over we motored on.
We stopped and toured an abandoned saltpeter mine in a place called Humberstone. It’s a Unesco World Heritage site dating back to 1872. One can only imagine the back breaking work that went on there in the middle of nowhere.
That evening we slept in the Gran Hotel Tacna. This border city has a rough reputation with a high crime rate, but Carl and I were careful as we walked the streets.
The following day was one of the best riding days so far with endless smooth roads, lots of curves and hairpins running up and down the sides of the very high mountains. Our destination was Arequipa, the second largest city in Peru. It’s a beautiful city at 2380m above sea level with a magnificent central square right across from the hotel.
The traffic in Arequipa is akin to a beehive with no rules of the road. It’s everyone for themselves and very scary. The only riding we did was to get into the city and get out – and that was hazardous enough!
Carl and I took a walking tour of the city and as we strolled along we were stopped on a crowded street by a very pretty lady police officer who warned us about securing our money and cameras as there are “bad people†around who will grab and run.
Guinea pig is considered a delicacy in South America, but the idea of eating a kids pet didn’t sit very well with me. Carl, on the other hand, is more adventurous and had it that evening at dinner. I had to admit that as served you would have no idea what it was until you were told. It looked like any other meat serving. Carl tells me it was delicious, but I’ll take his word for it!
On the way to Chivay in the Colca Valley at 3700m we reach the highest point of the ride of 4900m. It’s cold up there and the air is very thin. You don’t notice the lack of oxygen while you’re riding, but walking a few brisk steps soon has you gasping for air with a dizzy head
.
The ride was through incredible mountain passes, valleys, high mountains, and on some of the most curved and hairpin roads imaginable. The scenery is rugged but beautiful. The mountains often tower over us and it’s as if we’re in another world. It’s so remote that sometimes it’s hard to believe you’re still on planet earth!
At various places along the way we rode by native people dressed in colourful traditional clothing displaying all manner of hand crafts for sale out in the middle of nowhere! I often wondered how they got there and where do they go at night?
The merchandise is colourful and well made, but we have to ride on by most of the time and can only take a fleeting glance. Some of our rest stops are at the sites of some of these vendors and the group did get to do some shopping along the way. The knitted and woven products such as sweaters, caps, scarves, shawls, blankets and tapestries are beautiful and usually dirt cheap.
In most of the cities and towns there is a permanent central craft market, but there are also wandering vendors trying to sell you just about anything you can imagine. They take no for an answer and don’t pester you, but after a while you get sick of being asked by another person a minute later – and every other minute later.
We left Arequipa a little later than usual as we don’t have as far to go to get to Chivay at 3800m. We cross the Aquada National Reserve and see plenty of wild llamas and the endangered antelope called a Vicuna.
Chivay is a charming little town and we stay in lovely cottages at the Hotel Casa Andina. The place reminded me of a Spanish ranch or plantation with its stone and mortar exterior walls. The central town square is pretty, but a block or two away from the square you see how dusty and dingy the town is. The buildings are made of adobe brick with no colour. Everything looks like earth. Many of the businesses look the same way on the outside, but inside they’re usually quite nice. You can’t always judge a book by the cover.
Very early the next day we journeyed by car to the Colca Valley to see the Condors as they soar in the sky on the updrafts like gliders. Condors are huge birds and look like eagles, but are much larger. They have the ugliest head on a bird that I have ever seen – something like a vulture. The Incas call this the Sacred Valley. It’s deeper than the Grand Canyon, but much narrower at the bottom.
Getting there is two hours each way over terribly rough dirt roads carved out of the mountains, but along the way we stop at a small town called Yanque to watch the native Indian girls dancing in pairs around the central fountain in the square. They are young girls in traditional native clothing and boys are not allowed to participate for cultural reasons.
Also at the square are their parents or other adults with various tame wildlife (birds, baby and full grown llamas) that you can have your picture taken with for a fee.
We finally reach the top of the mountain, but there are no Condors. It’s still very early and the sun hasn’t yet warmed the valley. Our patience is finally rewarded and the birds come into view well below us. As time passes they move up to our level on the warming air and they are easy to see.
We are at a very high altitude and breathing is an effort so we walk slowly so as to not get dizzy. Fainting is common if you’re not careful as I found out later.
We’re back at the hotel around noon and free to do as we wish for the rest of the day. Carl and I wander around the town, check out the craft market and have a bite to eat at a restaurant that is rustic to say the least.
In Peru, you dare not drink the water. You must drink only bottled water, soft drinks, fruit juices, beer, or any liquid that has been processed. The same goes for farm produce with the skin on. Remove the skin and you may be OK.
Their farming and sanitation practices are suspect and the bacteria can make you very sick. You have no idea what the source of the water is, how the produce was handled or what was used as fertilizer or pesticide. The local people are born into that environment and have no problems at all. No so with we delicate tourists who are used to fresh and clean.
That evening we ate at the hotel restaurant while being entertained by a talented native musical group in traditional clothing. Near the end of the performance a young teenage girl appeared, also dressed in traditional garb, and danced to the music
On the wall of the restaurant there were many colourful hats hanging as decorations. The youngster went over to the wall, removed a hat, danced with it for a moment and then placed it on Carl’s bald head while dragging him up onto the floor for a spirited jig-like dance. We laughed, clapped and took pictures. When the dance was over Carl swiftly put the hat on my head and the girl dragged me onto the floor for another fast paced dance much to the delight of all!
After 3-4 minutes of doing the two-step (or whatever it was that I was doing) at that altitude, I was exhausted!
The following day we’re again up early with our destination being Cusco, the original capital of the Inca Empire thousands of years ago. We leave at dawn at -5C with 650k ahead of us. Some of the others were freezing half to death, but we tough Canadians hardly minded it at all.
At times the going was slow due to many small towns with speed bumps, dogs running loose, pedestrians, scooter taxis, bicycles, farm animals on the road along with llamas and sheep.
In spite of everything we arrived in Cusco at 3360m by mid afternoon where I was separated from the group due to the crazy traffic and a traffic light. I had no idea where I was and just kept riding straight ahead. The group had pulled over in the shade of some trees, but I didn’t see them and rode on by. I was too busy trying to not get killed!
I’ll admit that I was in a bit of a panic and should have waited for the chase truck to catch up and guide me, but I didn’t think of it at the time. All I could think of was to try and catch up. I didn’t know the name of the hotel and couldn’t speak Spanish even if I had asked a police officer for directions.
When I figured I had gone too far I made my way back with the intent of stopping on the main street where Roberto or Sonja might see me in my bright red jacket. On the way back I saw Roberto coming towards me and we were soon together. We pulled over and he used the satellite telephone to herd the others to us. From there it was a short run to the plush Hotel Jose Antonio where we stayed for two days.
Cusco has a population of just over 300 thousand and is the center for everything related to the Inca culture and history. It’s a nice city and it’s quite easy to find your way around. There are many original Inca stone walls in the city that have formed the foundation for modern buildings. These were easy to find and photograph.
Cusco is a destination for international tourism and the city was teeming with tourists from all over the world. Two middle-aged British women stopped us and asked for directions which we found amusing considering we had only been there a few hours.
As it turned out we knew the directions to the Inca walls as we had just figured it out for ourselves.
We were staying in Cusco for two days and not doing any riding so we explored this historic city on foot. The tour included free tickets to museums, historic buildings and the Inca sites and ruins.
Plaza de Armas is the beautiful city square bordered by a massive cathedral as well as shops selling everything under the sun. Roaming vendors were as thick as flies and a bit bothersome. You simply got tired of saying no!
That evening the entire group went to an upscale restaurant which had an excellent buffet. Probably because of the international tourist trade, the food selection was the closest to North American food that I had seen so far and I ate heartily!
We were entertained by a talented musical group of singers and dancers all in traditional Inca clothing. I was selected by one of the girl dancers to join in the dancing, but I had danced enough a couple of days ago so I handed her over to Mike who gladly joined in. Everyone in the group was not shy about dancing or acting the fool.
On the second day we were up early to catch a bus tour to Inca ruins high above the city. It may have been winter, but it was very hot (25C) so we dressed lightly and took plenty of water. There had not been a drop of rain and there would be none for the entire trip. Winter is the dry season and summer is the wet season.
High above Cusco we had a grand view of the city as we explored the Inca ruins and took plenty of photographs. How the Incas built their cities with such precision and how the massive rocks were carved, moved and fitted thousands of years ago is almost beyond belief. The foundations have been sitting there for centuries and haven’t moved a fraction. The fit of the stones is still as precise and tight as it was when they were constructed.
We left Cusco at noon on the second day for a short run (80km) to the Sacred Valley and the town of Urubamba. On the way Roberto took us on a side trip on a very rough dirt mountain road to a salt mine with a perilous drop hundreds of metres below. Looking down on the mining operation from the mountain it looked like a honeycomb. The mining is done through a process of evaporation leaving the salt to be gathered for processing and shipment.
Back on the paved road, from the top of the mountain it wound down to the town of Urubamba in a series of hairpins and switchbacks. Most of the riding in the mountains was like that; up one side to a plateau and then down the other side through a series of often severe hairpin turns.
This was repeated dozens of times throughout the tour and was pure decadence for bike riders, but you had to pay attention and watch you speed! There were no guard rails to keep you from dropping hundreds of metres.
Roberto led us through the town and then swung onto a dirt road leading up the side of a mountain slope past modest earth homes that were probably built by the natives themselves. It was rough and dusty and after about three kilometres I couldn’t help but think, “Where in hell is he taking us?â€
Shortly, we arrived at a palatial resort on the side of the mountain called Libertador Valle Sagrado Lodge where we were to stay for two nights. It was a stunning place with individual houses laid out amid flower gardens, ponds, running water and tiny bridges.
During the day we rode long and hard in unbelievably remote and rugged terrains, but each night we stayed in first class accommodations.
The next day we took a bus tour of two more Inca ruins. It was another hot day and we went up to even higher altitudes. The trek among the ruins was rough with a lot of climbing. I began to feel exhausted and had to sit down on a rock to rest. Carl did the same thing and as we sat there I began to feel faint. I told Carl that I thought I was going to pass out so he hustled me into the shade to rest out of the hot sun. I sat down and leaned my back against a cold stone wall. That in itself was very refreshing. I didn’t pass out, but I came very close!
A passing lady tourist gave Carl a cotton ball drenched in rubbing alcohol which was rubbed on my face, neck and arms. The cooling effect of the evaporating alcohol and drinks of water soon revived me and we were once again on our way at a slower pace.
We went to a second Inca ruin, but the walking was less stressful and I had no trouble coping. At that ruin we saw how the Incas irrigated water to their complex and that water is still flowing today. It was simply amazing!
We learned that just a few days earlier, singer, Olivia Newton John, and her new husband held a second wedding ceremony here conducted by an Inca priest with all three of them dressed in traditional Inca clothing. The ceremony was conducted right in front of the stone wall that featured the Inca water works. When I got home the pictures were in the celebrity magazines and I recognized the place immediately.
That evening I skipped dinner and went to bed early. I woke up twelve hours later!
The next morning we were once again up early and taken by bus to meet the Peruvian railway in the little town of Ollantaytambo – little town, big name. From there it was a two hour train ride to another small town called Aquas Calientes at the base of the mountains right on the Urubamba River. From there a bus took us up the side of the mountain at a snails pace through hairpin bends on a dirt road. At the end of the road we had to walk a considerable distance up the side of the mountain to reach the top.
As we crested the top of the mountain, there before our eyes, was the jewel in the crown – Machu Picchu! Ever since I learned what Machu Picchu was I dreamed of seeing it one day – and there it was! I couldn’t have been more thrilled!
Of all the Inca cities and complexes this was the only one the Spanish did not find and plunder. It doesn’t seem plausible that the Spaniards didn’t know about it, but apparently they didn’t. The city was untouched and life continued until it was eventually abandoned for mysterious reasons.
American explorer and archeologist, Hiram Bingham, learned of the site from a local farmer who agreed to lead him up the mountain where he found the lost city in 1911. Bingham was in that area looking for other Inca lost cities when by chance he met the farmer. The Indians and farmers knew it was up there, but had no interest in it since it was all but inaccessible and had been completely grown over for centuries.
A guide was included in our Machu Picchu tour and we saw all the features and wonders of the abandoned ancient Inca city in the sky. The tour took about three hours and it was fantastic! This was the highlight of the bike tour for me.
From there it was back down the mountain by bus. We had lunch in the town with still enough time to walk around, see the town square, listen to street musicians, shop and relax before boarding the train later that afternoon.
Once aboard the train and underway we were served a meal similar to what you get on a plane. We were then treated to music and dance by one of the conductors dressed in a traditional face mask and clothing. This was followed by a fashion show by the very pretty lady conductor who modeled local hand crafted clothing that was for sale. Richard, his two daughters and Frans also joined in as models much to our delight. Our bus driver picked us up at the train station and returned us to the lodge. It had been another wonderful day!
The next morning we were up early and on the road heading for the city of Puno on the shores of Lake Titicaca. The temperature was near the freezing mark and colder at the higher elevations, but the sun was soon up and it was very comfortable for riding.
From Puno we were to take a ferry to Uros Island which is a man-made island constructed from reeds by the Indians who live there. Their houses and boats are also constructed from reeds.
I was well rested and feeling better than I had in a couple of days. The air was fresh and clean, the road was smooth and I was enjoying the ride. I was looking forward to seeing Puno and Uros Island, but unfortunately I didn’t make it. I ran off the road into a concrete drainage ditch at an unmarked decreasing radius curve. I wasn’t going fast, but it was too fast for that curve.
I was riding in bright sunshine and the curve was in the shadow of the sheer mountain wall. When I rode into the shadow I could then see the road clearly, but it was turning left and I wasn’t. I knew in an instant that I couldn’t make it, but I tried as hard as I could and was dragging hard parts on the pavement. The curve was simply too tight and I highsided when the knobby tires caught the dirt shoulder.
The nearest town with medical facilities was about 12k away and I was taken there for x-rays which showed fractures to the head of the humerus in my shoulder and several fractures to bones in my right hand.
It was decided to immobilize my shoulder and hand in a huge upper body cast (plaster) so I could travel back to Canada ASAP. This was done and Carl and I were taken by a rattle trap 35 year-old falling apart Jeep ambulance to Cusco three hours away where there was an international airport. It was a wild ride, and having survived the bike crash, I wondered if I was going to survive the ambulance ride!
By the time we reached Cusco it was late on Saturday and everything is closed on Sunday. We checked back into the Hotel Jose Antonio which we had just left a few days earlier.
Carl spent most of Sunday on the telephone making long distance calls trying to book flights home. He finally succeeded and we flew to Lima Monday morning to catch a connecting flight to New York with a connecting flight to Halifax. I didn’t arrive at my house until 2:30 AM Wednesday morning. For more that 2 ½ days we lived in airports and on planes to get home.
I was admitted to hospital for surgery Wednesday morning and I had a shoulder replacement the next day. A cast (plaster) was also put on my hand and forearm for the next four weeks.
After Carl and I left for Cusco in the ambulance the bike tour continued and they did get to see Uros Island after all. The following day was simply a ride back to home base in Antofagasta so we didn’t miss very much.
It was an absolutely wonderful adventure and I have no regrets about going. I saw things and did things that I never would have otherwise experienced in my lifetime.
As I undergo extensive physiotherapy I’m optimistic for the future, but whatever happens I still have the memories and photos to remind me of one of the most fantastic trips of my life.
