The complete translation, at long last

PART 1

We land in Peru, tired and suffering from jet-lag. It is late, so we decide to sleep in the airport, it will be easier to think tomorrow. We start to unroll our sleeping bags in a corner, when two hostesses appear. Aie, aie, aie, we are going to get thrown out! But not at all! "It's noisy here, come with us and we will show you a place where you can sleep in peace". They even ask us to forgive them because the delightful little spot is not very comfortable! Our trip in Peru starts well!
After a long and beneficial sleep, our thoughts are indeed much clearer. We set up our plans whilst sipping a delicious glass of fresh fruit juice (strawberry-papaya, Peruvian gastronomy also starts out well). First we must find an Internet connection in the Airport and try to contact Norma. Norma is a Peruvian girl who we have not yet met, but who contacted Olivier via the web site "Hi5", and who knows we are coming to Peru. Perhaps she can offer us accommodation for a night? There is an email waiting in the Inbox "Ring me as soon as you land!" We dial the number, and 15 minutes later the virtual Norma is with us, in the flesh! What efficiency!

She gives us a warm hug and welcomes us to Peru. She is a little (young) woman, energetic, with sparkling eyes and full of smiles. She explains that her parents live close to the airport, and that we can stay with them whilst we are in Lima. Great! However she refuses to let us mount our bikes in the ill-famed roads around the airport.

We wave down two taxis, and load all our material. Ten minutes later we are at her parents house (Norma insists on paying for the taxis!!) We discover a lovely family, comprised of her parents, her two sisters, a brother and a nephew. It's Sunday and part of the family is reunited under the roof of the parents (the rest of the immense family lives outside Lima).
We are the heroes of the gathering: our hosts see to our bikes and luggage, sit us down, feed us, and ask us hundreds of questions! We are happy to find ourselves in such good company, and we tell the story of our trip in a strange gibberish of French-English-Spanish that Norma translates for her parents. Fortunately she speaks some English. Her mother, older, but just as dynamic, gives us a room to ourselves, and apologises for the simplicity of the accommodation! She doesn't realise that after the African huts, she is offering us real luxury! We try to thank her, but here it is not necessary, hospitability is natural. The following days, Norma takes us round the town, and she is an excellent guide.

To begin with, we are astounded by the traffic in the capital. The major part of the traffic is big buses, taxis, and also minibuses that compete to be the first to stop in front of a client. All this traffic is accompanied by constant horn blowing, because the Peruvians honk at, and for, everything: to overtake, to attract customers, because the traffic lights have turned green, because they have turned red, because the traffic is blocked, or just because their neighbour has blown his horn! The minibuses honk whilst they zigzag like rockets between the slower goods vehicles. Here, there are no bus stops and no timetables.

The minibuses have a number that indicates their destination (in a secret code that only the local can decipher?), and which seems to be different to that written across the windscreen. You can stop a minibus almost anywhere, even if there are places where they all seem to stop, but with no signs. An absolute hell for the uninitiated, but Norma is quite at home, and we follow her from minibus to minibus, while the driver hurls his destination through the open window to recruit new clients.

We discover Lima under a covered grey sky that seems to be a permanent feature of the town: pollution or simple coastal clouds? We don't know, but nevertheless, even under the greyness, Lima is a luminous colourful town, with buildings painted in bright or pastel colours: blue, yellow, orange, violet. The whole town is coloured!

Between the houses are numerous churches with richly decorated interiors. They remind us of the churches we saw in Spain; logical! Norma is interested in architecture and feeds us an avalanche of information about the places that we visit. For example, a church of which one and only one element has survived two earthquakes: a wall holding a painting of Christ on the crucifix. This painting, the "Señor de los Milagros" is now venerated by the Peruvians and celebrated by an annual procession where it is paraded triumphantly in the streets. Many statues of the Christ, virgins, or various saints are paraded and are richly dressed in real clothes. Each saint has a speciality: you must be careful to choose the right saint when you pray for a favour! Alongside each saint, a series of silver and gold hearts are offerings that testify to the miraculous effectiveness of these prayers!

Norma also shows us how she earns her living. She embroiders tablecloths and sheets by hand. The results is delicate and of high quality, but she explains that now in Peru people prefer to buy merchandise made in factories, where the result is perfect, and which cost more than handcrafted articles (contrary to the situation in France). We suggest that she should try to sell her production by internet, but in Peru half the parcels never reach their destination. What a pity!
Before we leave, she and her sister Monica, a nurse like Olivier, give us two small presents as souvenirs: a "Bresilian" bracelet for Olivier, and a wool lanyard decorated with multicoloured pompoms for Amanda, that we immediately wrap onto Heidi's handlebars.

After spending a day and a half discovering Lima and Peruvian gastronomy, it is time for us to leave the pollution of the capital and head towards the pure air of the Andes Mountains.
However for our first encounter with this magnificent range, we will take it easy: we take a bus to convey us up to 4000m and then we will come back down on our bikes. This way we will have time to adapt ourselves to the altitude before attacking other passes of the Andes using our own force.

The bus drops us at nightfall in the centre of the highest village in the White Andes (the northern part of the Peruvian Andes Range). We are at 3950 m altitude, and we can feel it, the air is crisp, and light! The simple act of unloading our luggage and bikes from the bus makes us breathless, and makes our heads spin: we are already suffering from the "soroche", mountain sickness.
We have a cure for the headaches that it will cause: "coca"! But don't misunderstand us, there is absolutely no question of drugging ourselves with cocaine. Coca leaves, drunk as herbal tea (or coca "maté") has absolutely nothing to do with drugs, but it relieves the symptoms caused by the altitude, and it works well

After a cool night ( and even some snow), we set off for our first push on pedals at 4000 m altitude. Fortunately, it is downhill! We are out of breath after only a few kilometres... the atmospheric pressure is much lower, and there is 30% less oxygen than at sea level!

However we quickly forget our fatigue with the exaltation of being in the Andes! We can hardly believe our eyes. The sight is as magnificent as we hoped. A stormy sky illuminated the summits in shades of gold and green, and an immense and majestic valley unfolds before us: youhou!
The valley narrows as we advance, and the scenery becomes more mountainous... but also more difficult to find a spot for our bivouac. Hmm we have almost forgotten what it means to find a bivouac: in Africa the desert is flat and the shade of the first tree in sight was sufficient. Nevertheless, we find a quiet spot, out of sight, since we don't want to tempt a possible thief.

Our little spot is not as out of sight as we imagined; We are quickly spotted by a little old lady in traditional skirts. She appears in front of our tent as we start to cook our pasta, and seems charmed by our installation and bike: "Que hermoso! Que lindo!" she exclaims: how nice, how beautiful (really?). And she starts a fast monologue in a little voice as small as herself. Amanda tries to catch bits of phrases, and starts a sort of conversation with this lovely old lady. She is called Viviane, and she lives up there, in the house overlooking the road (ah, so that is how she spotted us!). She is sorry that we have already installed our camp, she would have liked to invite us to her house (hmm, and how would we have managed to take our bikes up there?). However she wishes us welcome, and trots off as fast as she came. What a charming little visit!

The following morning, we continue pedalling down the valley, alongside the river Rio Santa, which we will follow during the coming weeks, almost to the sea. Today the rain has ceased, and we enjoy the pleasure of pedalling in the sun without suffering from the heat. It makes a change from Africa!. We arrive at the next little town, Huarez, around midday, and whom should we meet? Viviane of course! With our strange bikes and our "gringo" outfits, we don't go unnoticed.
Vivian seems delighted to have found us again, and takes us immediately to her children's house, which is also a mini-bar/"chevichery". In front of a bottle of "Inca Cola" (the Peruvian "coca-cola", bright yellow and made from local herbs), we make friends with her sons and daughters, who are also musicians and/or singers.

And suddenly, in the blink of an eye, we are treated to an improvised concert!. One of her sons plucks his guitar, another drums on the table, and a daughter starts to sing. Even Viviane gives us a song: what an atmosphere! In the middle of all that a dish of "cheviches" suddenly appears, cooked by the only one of Viviane's daughters who does not sing, but who cooks.

We laugh, we sing, and we try to explain our round the world trip in our very poor Spanish. We don't really want to leave, and they also want us to stay "you are invited, sleep here tonight!". The second son opens the door of his bedroom: "You can sleep here, I will sleep in the next room". It is not possible to refuse such an offer, and we unload our luggage. We go to explore round the town on our bikes, alleviated of bags and trailer.

The first necessity is to mend Heidi's bike prop, which got broken during the flight from Casablanca to Madrid. We find a bike shop, and in the time it takes for a shower to pass over, they make a new prop, even better and stronger than the original. Phileas is almost jealous!

After a visit to a cyber-café, we visit the town, and gather information in possible treks in the district. The pretty town is bubbling with excitation: this evening is the town's fiesta, with the procession of the "Señior de los Milagros" (see Lima's church, above). We see a procession of locals, all dressed in violet, and carrying a copy of the venerated painting

We find a nice little tourist office, who advises us to go on "THE" trek of the White Andes, the "Santa-Cruz Trek". However, it starts from a town called Yungay, further north. So Yungay will be our next destination.
We spend an excellent evening in the company of Viviane's family, and then bed. Amanda is starting to suffer from heavy sinusitis, probably a result of the cold rain of the previous night. Viviane's daughter is surprised to find Amanda in front of the house, in the dark, inhaling over a bowl of boiling water, with a cheich over her head. These curious frenchies do have strange habits!

The following day, we pedal from sun to showers. The weather seems to follow a daily routine: sun from 8 to 11 a.m., growing clouds from 11 a.m. to 14 p.m., and starting from 14-15 p.m., rain, rain, rain. We put on our Gore-Tex, and we continue pedalling. On the way we buy lots of delicious fruit, to make up for the lack of fruit in Africa. However Amanda is struggling, her sinusitis has not improved yet, and even if the valley descends on the average, the road continuously goes up and down. The going is hard. Nevertheless, we star to acclimatise to the altitude: red blood cells, multiply yourselves! Towards the end of the afternoon, we are close to Yungay..., or at least the new town of Yungay.

In 1970, an earthquake let loose thousands of tons of alluviums, which ran down the slopes of the mountain and entirely covered to town of Yungay, situated at the end of the valley. The town was completely buried, including its 20.000 inhabitants. Today the town has been completely rebuilt, a few kilometres from the old town, which has been transformed into a gigantic memorial with flowered gardens.

It is beautiful and quiet, but at the position of the old "Place d'Armes", the tips of the original palm trees protrude from the ground (of which one is still alive) as does the crumbling spire of the cathedral. Thanks to the kindness of the wardens, we are allowed to visit the site at sunset, and even bivouac on the well-kept lawn.

The following day we want to go higher into the mountains: the lady at the tourist office says the two lakes above Yungay are marvels, and we want to see for ourselves. However because of the state of Amanda, and also the state of the trail, plus the 1000m climb, we make the wise decision to go up by taxi and come back by bike. So after some shopping in the picturesque market, and drinking a couple of fresh papaya -orange-banana fruit juices, we set off to the mountains. Well, to the mountains above the mountains on which we stand. In the blue sky above us, we can see the snow-covered summit of mount Huascaran, one of the highest peaks in the cordillera.

After 45 minutes of zigzaging up a narrow valley, we reach the first lake, apparently the "female" lake, which offers us a magnificent panorama with vertical black cliffs reflected in the turquoise water. The second lake is less spectacular (normal, its the "male" lake!), but still very beautiful and also more peaceful.

We reach the lake after several kilometres of hard pedalling on the bikes that leave Amanda and her sinusitis completely extenuated. However, the site is worth the effort, and we discover a pretty little site just waiting for us to set up our bivouac.

The net day, our bikes bounce and bound down the 1000m descent to Yungay. Hurrah for the shock absorbers of our bents that withstand even the worst trails.
We arrive back in Yungay, only to leave again, but this time on foot for a four-day hike along the "Santa Cruz" trail amongst the peaks of the Cordillera.

We discover a charming little hotel in Yugay, where for a very moderate charge, the kind Señora Gamboa, agrees to look after Phileas and Heidi for us, in our absence. We hire a couple of rucksacks, and we are now transformed into mountain hikers. We set off for 4 days on foot in the Peruvian montains, or the "Sierra", as they say here. In the minibus that takes us high up to the start of the trail, we meet another group of hikers. But they hike with a guide and mules, for the "modest" sum of 130 dollars per head! Well, rather than pay that price, we prefer to carry our own rucksacks!

So here we are walking in the mountains. The abundant rainfall makes the vegetation very different to that of the Alpes: the peaks at 4.000 plus metres are still green and covered with trees. The scenery is green and almost luxuriant! The counter-part is that it rains a lot ... and after walking 4 hours in the sun, we are again assailed by raindrops, and Amanda discovers that her Goretex is not really waterproof! The rain continues intermittently, and even if the scenery is magnificent, we think that it is surely better in sunshine and decide to await its return in the tent.

The price to pay is that we have to walk much further the next day, but we are rewarded by the appearance of the sun just as we reach the highest point of out hike on a pass at 4750m altitude, almost as high as the Mont Blanc! Standing in the snow, we appreciate the ray of sunshine. The surrounding summits appear little by little from the clouds. The panorama is fabulous, with snow-covered peaks and razor-sharp crests. Down below the green valley curves away, and on the right is a turquoise little lake. We forget our fatigue and quickly descend the next few kilometres.

The music starts and the children start to dance, the boys and girls on two lines facing each other. "Dance, please dance!" Señora Gamboa implores us (in French! would you believe us?). So, despite our stiff muscles from the hike, we find ourselves dancing in the middle of forty Peruvian kids, under the watchful eye of Sleeping Beauty! We would never have guessed where our pedalling through Peru would take us!

The next morning is less strenuous than the preceding: It's fiesta day at Yungay, and we enjoy the festive and musical atmosphere in the town (market, traditional costumes, fanfares and parades). We alternate with the les festive atmosphere of the local cyber-café, but a virtual contact with family and friends is worth all the parades in the world!

It is once again under the rain that we pedal away. We continue our descent of the White Andes, which finishes in a narrow canyon: "the Cañon del Pato" It is here that the White Andes meets up with its western cousin, the Black Andes. In between the two mountain ranges, which come closer and closer together, are the "Rio Santa", plus a narrow road hanging onto the mountainside, and ... us.

Well, road is a slight exaggeration, it is just a track of sharp broken stones and dusty rubble that has never seen a millimetre of tar. But, apart from the jolts, the canyon is magnificent: the depth and the narrowness are impressive. We go through thirty or more narrow tunnels, which all have a sign "blow your horn before entering"! The canyon becomes so narrow that we can no longer see the river down below us.

It reminds us of a hide-out for the baddies in a James Bond film, and it ends with a vertiginous descent to the hydro-electric station of Huallanca, where we replenish our water reserves.

We are now in the Black Andes, but the only black is in the name: in the light of the setting sun, it is tinted with colours of red, ochre, brown and also green for the cacti that manage to survive in this mineral environment. It closely resembles the films of the Far West. "We are poor and lonesome cyclists, who are a long, long way from home!"

For three days we continue our chaotic descent from the heights of the Cordillera, down towards the sea. The Black Andes continue to offer us fabulous scenery of ochre mountains and vertiginous canyons. It's magnificent, but the track is deplorable. Despite the fact that we descend, our average speed is only 8 km/h, with our hands tensed on the brakes, we get cramps in our forearms! And sometimes it's worse... the road goes up! Not a lot, but sufficient to exhaust us slaloming between the stones and the giant potholes.

At the top of a difficult hill, we are surprised to meet another cyclocamper: Collin who comes from Alaska. He has started from Ecuador and intends to be in Ushuaia by Christmas! He is travelling in the opposite direction to us, and despite the long difficult climb, he seems to be in good shape. We explain that we hesitate as to which road to take after we leave the Black Andes. Collin is categorical; he insists that we must go to Trujillo, a small town on the coast, to the north of our original itinerary. There, not only are there superb pre-Inca ruins to visit, there is also the "casa de ciclistas". What is that? It's Lucho's house. Lucho is a Peruvian cyclist fanatic who has decided to welcome and lodge for free all cycle travellers who call at his house! Collin spent three days there, instead of the one day originally planned, thanks to the hospitality of Lucho and his wife Aracelli: "it's good sometimes to have a real home" he tells us. Well, he convinces us, and we decide to go to Trujillo, where we will have no problem to find a bus to take us to the south of Peru.

We leave Collin to his difficult climb and continue our chaotic descent. Our bikes, hair and clothes are covered in dust, it reminds us of Mauritania... Nevertheless, we are sorry to leave the Black Andes behind us. When we find ourselves on tarmac, we are the famous "Pan-American Highway" with its thundering lorries and never-ending traffic. What a change from the mountains! Our altitude is only 50m: we have come down 4000m since we set off.

We drown the din of the traffic with our mp3 players, and the kilometres fly past as we rapidly approach Trujillo.

We are not unhappy to stop in the pretty square (every town has its "Plaza de Armas" or "Military square", generally flowered and pretty). We are immediately surrounded by curious onlookers, and we explain our trip and our bikes, to their great amusement. Someone offers us a piece of "torta", bought from an ambulant merchant who carries them on a plate!

We are told how to find the "Casa de ciclistas", which seems to be well known here.., and here we are! On the front of his house, Lucho has painted a terrestrial globe supported by two cyclists, a cyclocamper and a racing cyclist. The opens to reveal a smiling Lucho, he already knew we were coming! "Mi casa es su casa" were his first words. He then tells us to put our bikes in his yard. Next to Lucho is Lucy, a Canadian cyclo-traveller who speaks perfect French. She arrived two days ago, and is already part of the family!

The rest of the family arrives: there is Aracelli, Locho's wife, his thirteen year old daughter Angela, and Lance, just 10 months old. Lance, like Lance Armstrong of course! Lucho is a fan of the "Tour de France", as we can see from the many posters that cover the walls of his workshop. Lucho is a musician, but he has a real bike workshop, and he repairs all the bikes in town for free...

Lucho is a dreamer and an idealist, and he has a heart of gold, as demonstrated by his "Casa de ciclistas". He has even founded a biking school, which is free to all the kids in the district. Aracelli has her feet on the ground, and she sighs at the generosity of Lucho. They sometimes house up to a dozen cyclists at the same time, and the water and electricity bills can be high, especially when they stay several weeks! But Lucho is proud of his house and he has good reason to be: we are the 890th guests! He is proud to shows us his fabulous guest-book that leave us open-mouthed: Every cyclist has left a photo and one or more pages of text and drawings to describe their journey. What adventurers! How many Round The World trips in these superb albums! There are even French cyclocampeurs that we had encountered on the web or at international conferences! Compared to all these adventurers, we feel very small.

We spend two days in Trujillo during which we too are adopted by Lucho and his family. Between two meals concocted by Aracelli, we visit the ruins that surround the city accompanied by Lucy. She has come from Ushuaia on her upright bike and is on her way ton Ecuador! Her Spanish, which she has practised at length on the roads of Latin America, is much better than ours. It is very convenient to have a translator for the explanations of the guides!

We are on the site of the biggest pre-Columbian city in the world, the empire-city of Shan Shan. Shan Shan was the capital of the Chimu civilization that preceded the Incas. It was a huge city, whose ruins cover 60km?, built entirely of mud-bricks and straw, or "adobe" (as in Photoshop!). But the time and successive deluges of El Niño have done their damage, and today only a few temples still exist, alongside the foundations preserved from erosion by being buried under the sand for many centuries.

However, the remains are still really impressive. We are in a city with immense walls and huge oversized squares, reserved for ceremonies and sacrifices. On the wall friezes are carved with geometric designs representing fish, sea lions, pelicans, or simply fishing nets: the Chimus were a sea-going people.

For example, by destroying the outer walls, the archaeologists have discovered others, also richly decorated. What dilemma! You have to destroy in order to discover! Meanwhile, in a festival of still vivid colours, geometric friezes and drawings of gods, snakes, priests and slaves adorn the walls laid bare by the excavations. The Moches ruins are beautiful! (Note "Moches" in French means "ugly", which the opposite of these ruins!)

Eating...

Oh there, how can summarise in a few lines the multiplicity and the intensity of our gastronomic discoveries? After Mauritanian deprivations and their eternal onions, we have fallen into a cave of an Ali-Baba gourmet. It is not possible to enumerate all the sweets and delicacies that we have found here. We will just cite a few, pell-mell.

The fruits!
Here, not only do we find bananas, (in fact not as good as those in Senegal), but there are hundreds of delicious fruits to be found at every street corner! Avocados are our big favourite: surprising because we do not like them much back home. But here, they are butter, ladies and gentlemen! So soft! What perfume! We eat them with sugar; it's even better (yes, really, try it!). They are followed closely by grenadillas: a strange bright orange fruit that has a hard shell, which we break peel like a boiled egg. Inside, there is a mass of small gelatinous green beans that you break with your teeth and they flood your mouth with freshness… moreover, they keep for weeks and they are full of vitamin C! There are also fabulous-tasting pineapples, tomatoes, which are so much better than French tomatoes, "pacay", a sort of huge 50cm bean of which one sucks the hairy seeds, figs, watermelons, mangoes, grapes…. Ahhh, it's too much!

The national specialty: "ceviche" pronounced "cébitché")
It is a dish of raw fish, marinated in lemon and spices and accompanied by onions, maize seeds, and strange but edible algae. It's generally a little too rich in hot peppers ("aye") for us, but the parts which are not too spiced are really delicious.

Delicious fresh fruit juices, produced on request and for next to nothing in small stalls.

The delicacies of merchants sitting on the roadside: in every village, there are little mamies ( "mamitas") in traditional costume, sitting by the roadside. Alongside them is a basket (or several), wrapped in one of the big striped blankets they use for everything, and inside there are tasty surprises still piping hot!

The best are the "empanadas": they are small pies of puff pastry filled with meat and vegetables, sometimes with eggs and cheese for… 0.5 sols (0.15 euro). We can never resist!

The "paparellenas": a little puree of mixed vegetables, then fried. They are little greasy, but Olivier loves them!.

The "choclo con queso": big white corncobs, eaten hot on its stalk with a piece of cheese.

And even real meals, kept warm in huge pots surrounded by covers; chicken soup ("caldo de gallina"), fried chicken with noodles, or, even better, "chicharonnes": grilled pork coated with spices… yum!

"Anticuchos" are to be found on the carts of vendors that appear at nightfall. They are delicious little skewers of meat, served with a little salad. But what sort of meat? Well, these are chunks of beef hearts! And they are really very tender...
Another type of merchant appears in the evening. On his cart a mini stall is full of glass bottles filled with coloured liquids, and in the middle there is a bubbling caldron. What on earth is this? Well, they are vendors of "emolliente", a hot digestive drink, composed of a mixture from the multiple liquids in the bottles. At our request, the merchant concocts a warm and thick mixture, midway between the tea and syrup. A bit too viscous to our taste, but not so bad!

Difficulties

The first headaches due to the altitude.

The first night at 4000m: it was cold and somebody had cut off the air!

The difficult digestion of a "ceviche" too rich in "aji" at Trujillo: it took us three days to recuperate!

The incessant and icy rain during the Santa Cruz trek.

The jolts and dust on the "rotten" trail of the Black Cordillera.

Pedalling on the Pan-American Highway in the midst of engine noise and deafening horns.

Similarly, pedalling Trujillo, in the midst of mad taxis who honk at everything and overtake absolutely anywhere!

The best moments

Ah Peru! This country has really won our hearts and we have had so many good moments.
Here is a "Best of":

Our hike and the arrival on the pass at 4750m at the same time as the sun: elation, shortness of breath and vertiginous landscape...

The incredible red colours of the Black Andes with its immense canyons.

The smile of Norma waiting for us with open arms at the airport, without even knowing us! And the warm welcome of all her family in Lima.

The warm atmosphere of Viviane's family home at Huaraz.

A bivouac alongside a lake at 4000m, under the snow-capped peaks.

The invitation to the birthday party of Señora Gamboa's little daughter.

The "Casa de ciclistas" Trujillo.

The "Moches" visits with Lucy.

The fruits, and all the delicacies that Peru has provided on our plates… uh, our bowls!

Part 2

We leave the Chimu and Moches ruins of the city of Trujillo on the north coast of Peru. It’s now time to head south, and to make a great leap to the town of Cuzco, more than a thousand miles away. We made the jump by bus, because cycling along the deserted coastline was of little interest.

After two days of uninteresting but relatively comfortable travel, we disembark in the capital of the ancient Inca empire, whose inhabitants thought that it was the centre of the world: Cuzco. The name alone evokes ancient temples and conquistadors; it stretches before us in its vast valley.

The bus leaves us at the terminal, and we rearrange our bikes and bags. With the fatigue of travel and altitude (3800), our head spin a little, and we function in slow motion! We make our way through the streets of this big city to find the tourist office, where we try to find out what sites should be seen in the surroundings. The reply is simple; we should make a round trip of the Sacred Valley of the Incas, to the north of Cuzco, and end up at the Machu Picchu, of course!

So, we set off for the Sacred Valley! But before entering the valley, we have to climb the mountain that separates it from Cuzco. And the climb starts straight away, in the streets of the city. We are in the "alley of hell", paved, only 5m wide and at least 18% slope! It is impossible to pedal, and we are forced to push our bikes, with our feet slipping on the smooth cobblestones. It takes us more than 20 minutes to climb this little lane! With the altitude, we are short of breath, and our hearts beat like fury at the slightest effort. We wrongly thought that we were acclimatised! Our stay in Trujillo has let drop the number of red blood cells...

We arrive breathless at the outskirts of Cuzco, and the road continues to climb, still steep… We have to stop every 300m to get our breath back and calm our heartbeats. At this speed, it is already dark when we reach the first Inca ruins overlooking Cuzco, although they are only a few kilometres from the town. This site is called Saqsaywaman (pronounced "Sexy Woman"! Easy!). It is a hybrid between a temple and a citadel, and was the scene of a crucial battle of the Inca resistance against the conquistadors. But for the moment, the citadel is plunged into darkness and us too! However, we manage to persuade the guards to let us sleep next to their bungalow (anyway, apparently, elsewhere is too dangerous!), We sleep under the stars…

The guards’ consent had been given under one condition: at 5.00 a.m. (change of guard), the camp must be lifted! The alarm rings at 4.30, and from 5.00 to 6h30, we sit semi-comatose on a bench in front of the site, wrapped in our sleeping bags. It’s cold in the early morning at 3800m altitude! But the advantage is that we are the first in the queue when the site opens…

We discover our first Inca stones in the dew and in the silence of the early morning. It's very impressive. The massive cut stones, several metres high, are perfectly mated to each other, forming a superb saw-tooth wall. It makes us feel very small, especially considering that the mere effort of walking along the walls makes us already short of breath.

We are overwhelmed by the majestic tranquillity of the place, and we even have a small catnap on the grass under the eternal gaze of these beautiful grey stones.
But other ruins await us! The first coach of tourists arrives on the site and we are photographed in the same way as Inca walls, almost flattering, no? We climb onto our bikes to attack the steep slope again... We are a little less breathless than the previous day, but pedalling is still difficult and we progress at a ridiculous average speed of 4km/h...

But little by little, push after push, we are almost at the top of the small mountain. We regain our breath by visiting the ruins of Pukapucara, a small fortress with a panoramic view, and Tambomachay, an ensemble of channels and stone fountains where water still runs! It is less impressive than Saqsaywaman, but the precision of stone cutting is just as good, a signature of the Inca civilization…
And we sleep under the stars again, in the heart of the Sacred Valley… Giving time for our knees to rest and recover from the many efforts.

The next day brings us along the valley, to the small village of Ollantaytambo, where again we are impressed by the ruins with huge blocks. However Ollantaytambo will also be our "base camp" to visit Machu Picchu, without Phileas and Heidi, since the only means of access are by train or on foot! We leave our "babies" in safety in a small hotel/campsite, and the following day, at four o'clock in the morning, we are on our way to the most beautiful and most famous of the Inca ruins. .

As an encouragement, for our first kilometres, the sky provides us with an artist’s sunrise: pink clouds in a clear blue sky, above the peaks of the Andes covered in their pure white glaciers. We fill our lungs with the icy air of the mountains while the first rays of the sun warm our backs. It is good to be in the Andes!

A few hours of walking later, the going is less pleasant. The gentle morning sun now overwhelms us with its burning rays, and our makeshift backpacks, which in fact are only our saddlebags and some straps, cut into our shoulders. Our ankles suffer from walking on the ballast, and our eyes burn with the site of wooden planks stretching out to infinity. Say, big Smurf is it still far to go? Yes, very far…

Nevertheless, despite the discomfort of the march, the scenery is beautiful: we follow a green valley (still the Sacred Valley of course), and between two walls covered with green grass, the River Urubamba flows in a joyful song of bubbling water. Up in the distance, there are still the snow-covered peaks of the Andes cutting into the blue sky… we will not complain! Especially since our guardian angels have reserved a surprise for us... after about 3 hours walking, we hear the sound of a small locomotive coming at full speed.

We jump off the track, and the train goes past blowing its horn... then it stops 200m away! We run to meet it, afraid of being reprimanded for walking on the rails... but... not at all! "You must be tired of walking like that?" "Are you going to Agua Calientes"? "You are crazy! Come on up," and for a small "propina" (tip) we can be carried 10km! No sooner said than done, and 10 sols later, we are cramped in this tiny little yellow car running at full speed on track: We would never had guessed that we would end up going to Machu Picchu in a "train"! The two drivers are delighted with their windfall, and they hide us under the seats when we pass a station, because they are not allowed to pick up passengers! But, we promise that we will say nothing...

And so, in a couple of minutes, we have saved ourselves more than 2hrs hard walking... It is still a long way to Agua Calientes, the village at the foot of Machu Picchu, and we arrive at the end of the morning, not unhappy to have spared ourselves a tiring walk! Descending from the train, we quickly discover that Agua Calientes is a "Gringoland." In the streets, there are only tourists, and the only Peruvians we see, are those who call out from behind the countless souvenir shops "compra me, compra me, señorita!", "Buy me", meaning "buy something from me", but it's unpleasant to our ears. In background, we hear the repertoire of the Beatles played on pan flutes. This gives you an idea of the not really authentic character of the town! Nevertheless, if we make believe that we are that we are walking in a leisure park, it's almost fun! The cobbled streets are clean and white in the sun, and the bright colours of the blankets and other souvenir shops, add a touch of gayness to it all.

The village is not very big and we soon find the spacious "Plaza de Armas", decorated in its centre with a giant statue of an Inca king. Not far away, a small hotel offers us accommodation for 20 sols. It is twice the usual price, but there is nothing cheaper in the town. Aaah, at last we can unload our backpacks of torture and sit on a soft bed: it's so good! We resist (with difficulty) the divine temptation of a nap: we have not come this far for a sleep! We leave the hotel at top speed before we change our minds (remember: we have been up since 3:45 this morning!), We dive into the nearby tourist office, "What can we do this afternoon?”. Well, there is a mountain opposite the Machu Picchu that can reached by two hours of steep climb: "Putucusi", it gives an unparalleled view over the holy city. So, okay, we agree to climb the legendary Putucusi!
And indeed, the climb breaks all records of steepness, it is almost a via ferrata, but without a harness! It begins with Stone steps (cut by the Incas?), then we come to almost vertical vertiginous wooden ladders, several dozen metres high: not for the weak of heart! We climb them, paying great attention to our handholds; it is not the moment to slip! And all this is in the middle of a lush jungle: we really feel like Indiana Jones!

But 500 m higher, the view from the top is breathtaking. Machu Picchu, before our eyes! We are overlooking the lost city of the Incas, just a couple of kilometres from us as the condor flies... Our mountaintop is a little higher than the city, and provides us with a bird's eye view of the ruins, lit by the late afternoon sun. Astounded, we contemplate this city, perched on the top of a mountain, lost in the middle of the jungle, with its temples and terraces...

The haze gradually dissipates and unveils the ruins, in an atmosphere of calm and mystery, the sacred city slowly reveals itself: we are in Machu Picchu!

We had feared that the view from Putucusi could have broken the mystery, but we now realize that the view "in situ" has no counterpart, here we are in the middle of the stones, and we fully feel the majestic character of the site.
We try to imagine the feelings of those who first discovered these ruins...
The atmosphere is special and propitious to mystic contemplations...
Around 11 am, Amanda treats herself to the pleasure of a nap on the bright green lawn: how many people can say that they have slept in Machu Picchu? Despite the mass of tourists, the place is still so quiet...

After several hours bathing in the atmosphere of ruins, we decide to go a little higher. We set off to climb the Wayna Picchu, the sugar loaf mountain that dominates the city on all the postcards. On top, there are still more ruins to be discovered, plus a panoramic view of the city. The climb is steep but the scenery is worth it! We stay until the last moment, contemplating the magnificent ruins, until we are finally thrown out at closing time... and there are still some parts that we did not see!

But we will catch up on our pedalling in the next few days. We leave the Sacred Valley to return to Cuzco, but through the mountains. And the going is steep! We beat our record with a change in altitude of over 1004 m in one day. We bivouac in the open air with sunset over snowy mountains as a reward ... Globicyclette is a succession of efforts ... And consolations!

The next few days take us to the village of Chinchero: we discover a fabulous Sunday market, where all the inhabitants are dressed in traditional costumes. There is a joyful atmosphere, and our bikes become part of the show: we leave under the applause of a swarm of laughing children: it's always a pleasure to be part of the animations!

The Andean ups and downs eventually bring us back to Cuzco: we have closed the "sacred" circle!
A day "in town" allow us to carry out our usual urban occupations: laundry, shopping, showers, internet. But most importantly, we meet ... Francois, a 24-year-old man from Bordeaux. He has just set up a coffee house in Arequipa with french wine bar (Bordeaux wine, of course!).

With his Peruvian girlfriend, Danitza, they have imported hundreds of good bottles, and sell them in their coffee shop or to hotels and restaurants in the area. Today, Francis is in Cuzco, prospecting hotels to expand his clientele. We admire his boldness and his energy and we are confident that his enterprise will be a great success. Meanwhile, Francis leaves us no choice, we must see Arequipa, which is a magnificent city, and he invites us to his house (which is also that of his parents-in-law) for our whole stay in the "White City"!

As for us, we long to see his "Cafe y Viño", and we thus finalise our new itinerary, which we had already started to plan with Lucy in Trujillo! Cuzco -> Juliana -> Puno and Lake Titicaca -> Arequipa -> Chile!

We spend the evening walking around Cuzco and talking with Francis. We are impressed by his ambitions, and he is fascinated by our world tour! Everyone has his "thing". He is really friendly and spontaneous, and his accent from the southwest of France makes us a little nostalgic of "home"…

It is time for us to leave the Inca ruins to go pedalling in the Andes. Our next destination is Lake Titicaca! We head for the town of Juliaca, in the vicinity of the lake. We set off for five days of pedalling across the Andes.
First step: we have to climb up to the famous Altiplano, a plateau around 4000 m altitude, bordering the Andes. Apart from one or two gastrointestinal troubles (yes! they are still there!), we now climb pretty well, and the altitude is no longer a problem: we proudly cross our first pass at 4340 m, a record for Globicyclette! We cycle under the deep blue sky of the Andes, and regularly meet herds of alpaca or vicunas (even more beautiful). Despite the effort, we are very happy in these beautiful mountains! At the approach of a second pass, even higher (4438 m), we find it increasing hard to push on the pedals, despite our mutual encouragement. But another non-negligible motivation comes to the rescue: there is a hot spring at the end of the road! It is thus that we find ourselves at more than 4000 m, under the stars (its been a long day!), immersed in water at 38° C. ... aaah! Because of the altitude, it almost makes our heads spin! When will you come and join us on the roads?

After all these long climbs, the flat vastness of the Altiplano opens out before us: lovers of great outdoor spaces hold your breath! The horizon is far, far away, behind vast expanses of yellow grass sparkling under the blue sky. But when the land is flat… there is nothing to break the wind! And during the coming km, we pester against these gusts that slow us down to 10 km/h downhill…

We stop for a little shelter in the small town of Santa Rosa, where we find ourselves in the middle of a group of schoolchildren, leaving their class. They are very curious, but nice and polite, and before we leave, they sing us a song in unison! And so here we are, rolling at full speed down a perfectly flat road, in a cinema landscape, and under the sun ... If it were not for the headwind, it would be paradise ... But it is not so bad. As we pedal, we learn a few words of castellan from "our little conversation guide" Oh yes, on a bike and if the road is straight, it is possible to read while you pedal!

We arrived thus in the crossroads town of Juliaca (pronounced "Rouliaka"), where we unearth a cheap hotel for our bikes and ourselves. Tomorrow, we will leave the bikes again and make a round trip by bus to the city of Puno, on shores of Lake Titicaca.

In the early morning, we reach the highest navigable lake in the world. It’s big! The lake itself does not correspond to our image of a "mountain lake", since in the vicinity of Puno, it is shallow and invaded by reeds. It reminds us of the Camargue in southern France! But it's pretty, and we can guess its size from the banks that disappear on the horizon.

One of the wonders of Lake Titicaca, are its "floating islands". They are the only islands in the world built and maintained by humans for hundreds of years. The story says that the "Uros" fled from the expanding Inca civilisation and set up home on Lake Titicaca by building artificial floating islands made from bamboo and reeds (or "totoras", the same as used for the Huanchaco boats).

For hundreds of years, the Uros have lived on these islands, which form a veritable small city, 25 minutes by boat from Puno. But today, unfortunately, these islands have become a giant tourist attraction, forgetting the authenticity of the ancient civilization ...

Nevertheless, we decide to make a visit. It is not possible to ignore one of the wonders of the world ... But the tourist aspect of the islands disappoints us. Upon our arrival, we see that each island, no more than a hundred meters in diameter, has its own wharf for tourists, and is served by just one boat or agency.

On each island, there are four or five totora houses, surrounding a central square with souvenir stands. Some descendants of the Uros, dressed in traditional costume, are waiting for tourists (but are they really Uros, or just Puno villagers in dress?). Despite this very artificial aspect, the islands themselves are fascinating.

Our guide explains how they are maintained: Every 15 days it is necessary to add a new layer of totora on the ground. As the reeds mature, they eventually form a kind of humus covered by the tens of layers laid above them. The height of the layers can be over 4 meters, with most of it being under water, a bit like an iceberg. The island thus formed is tied to its neighbours, or to the bottom of the lake, through a system of ropes, attached to the base of the humus. Tied in bundles, the totora is also used to build houses and traditional craft. But a totora boat lasts only for a few months. Then it rots! (and sinks!). In any case, life on these tiny floating islands must be very curious...

Back in Juliaca, we find that the sun has remained behind on the lake ... The storm rumbles and the sky has turned dark purple. "You are crazy, it's going to rain, stay here one more night!" says the, kind and worried, "mamita" of the hotel. We hesitate, but it is barely 4 p.m., and there is a road ahead of us ... "Bah, rain is only water!" says Olivier bravely putting on his Goretex, as the first drops begin to fall. We do not intend to go far, just out of the city to find a quiet spot to bivouac, and from where we can start at dawn tomorrow.

In the "suburbs" of Juliaca, we pause to put on our neoprene shoes covers. Our friend the "glacial-headwind-that-slings-icy-rain-in-your-face" is back!

After this tourist stopover, we set off again for some pedalling in the mountains. We leave Juliaca, heading southwest towards Arequipa.

> Between the two towns, is the Altiplano, steep passes, and mountains full of vicuñas (vicunas)! But this time the Andes have decided to make us suffer a little more: the gradient goes up to more than 10%, the storm breaks, and after this cocktail: a head wind with lashing rain in the face. Then since we resisted and we were still climbing, hail! Ouch! It hurts our frozen cheeks!

What did you say? You are no longer interested in joining us on the road? We must admit that at times like this we would prefer to spend our evening in the warmth of a sofa ... But we continue as best we can, stimulating ourselves mutually. We are at more than 4000 m, and we are quickly out of breath on the slopes.

And for following three days, we have the impression that we are in a washing machine, running the "cold" program. In the evening we take refuge in our tent, which is covered in snow during the night. On two occasions, in the afternoon, we find refuge in a mini-bar for lorry drivers, sprung out of nowhere. Fortunately in the mornings we find fleeting rays of sun that allow us to dry a little and admire the snow-covered mountains... But on the third morning, made drunk by the rays of sunshine offered by the Andes, Olivier goes too fast in a descent... and has a fall at 65 km/h! Fortunately, we we come round from the big scare, the damage is not as bad as it might have been: a twisted handlebar, a torn headrest, the right sleeve of a pullover in tatters, and a big bruise on his backside...

As a result, in the next village (and again in the rain), we are easily convinced by the local policeman: "What? You want to leave? Can you see what is falling outside? Stay here for the night! I have a room here, and you will feel much better to be dry." He is right, it is much better than in the rain, and Olivier can repair the damage! We take advantage of the morning sun to cover the remaining 80km that separate us from Arequipa. Despite the bad weather, we are pleased with our trip: we have vanquished passes at more than 4500 m, and faced Andean hailstones, and when we could see, it was pretty!

As we approach Arequipa, the landscape changes completely. After the huge expanses of the Altiplano, we are now above a bare and dry valley, coloured yellow and ochre. Forgotten, the green and humid mountains, we are in a cousin of the Grand Canyon! And then, finally ... the road descends! We plummet almost 1500 metres at high speed, and under the sun what’s more. However the storm is not far behind us, in the mountains. We race against time ... We win and get to Arequipa almost completely dry.

What an immense city! It is the second biggest in Peru after Lima. It occupies an entire valley in the middle of a landscape of deserted mountains. Far above, three guards keep watch: the volcanoes Picchu Picchu (with its outline of a sleeping Indian), Misti (the biggest! A huge cone...), and the Chachani (the highest! Over 6000 m high). They provide a magnificent panorama for the town. But for the moment, they are... in the fog! No matter, because we are looking for Francis's; cafe. It is situated just next to the Plaza de Armas, the most beautiful that we have visited, juxting a vast cathedral of white volcanic stone, and a central garden of flowers and palm trees.

And whom do we find waiting for us in front of "Café y Viño"? Francis, of course! It's good to see his curly head and his smile again!

He invites us straight away into "his" domain, a magnificent building with two interior courtyards and fountains. On the first floor is his "cafe." It's very pretty, in white stone, with columns carved in floral bas-relief. It is so calm! We go up to the promenade on the second floor, and there we find Danitza, Francis's; Peruvian girlfriend, at the entrance to the shop. They quickly install us on stools at the bar, and prepare us two fresh fruit juices: what a welcome!

We visit the bar whilst sipping these delicacies: it is small but really nice, very clean, and the decorated with exquisite taste that makes you want to spend the day. We are happy to be dry and comfortably seated without having to pedal!

This is the beginning of four days of "holiday" in this beautiful city. As expected, we get on very well with Francis and Danitza, thanks to whom Amanda's Spanish improves rapidly. They offer us a fabulous hospitality, not to mention their friendship. We thought we would set up our tent in the garden of their house, or rather that of the Danitza's mother who is the owner. But the latter is as welcoming as our friends, and she insists on installing us in a bedroom where Francis stores his wine. We are going to sleep next to bottles of Cabernet and Sauternes! And what a house! It's actually a small farm a few kilometres from the city, with cows, bulls, peacock, dogs, and even Coco, the parrot! And that is not all…

We are a showered, dressed from head to foot by our friends, laundered, and above all… fed! In addition to being an angel, Danitza's mother is also a fabulous cook, we are entitled to the best breakfast on our trip: freshly pressed juice of papaya and pineapple, fresh hot milk, (straight from their cows), tea, coffee, bread, butter, homemade jam (from Francis's; mother in France!), and also a delicious cheese burger which reconciles us forever with savoury breakfasts. What a meal! And Francis says that it is like this every day. The mother is as kind as her daughter, who serves us fresh fruit juice as soon as we enter the café.

The program for our days in Arequipa: visit the city with Francis. He helps us discover a town that is full of life and full of charm, with white volcanic stones that make up the sunny walls. In short, we are seduced. We surprise ourselves by dreaming of spending a year here... Who knows? We also visit the huge local market, a festival of colours, odours, and other good things. Between visits, trips on the Internet, and the hours spent at Café Viño in the company of our friends, helping them when we can, time passes too quickly. We spend hours discussing all and nothing. It must be said that Francis is a born storyteller, and we can listen to his stories from morning to night! He is enthusiastic and generous: Francis succeeds in making us love good wine! We enjoy the best Sauternes of our lives... in Peru!

We realized that friendship is something that is missing in our journey... Together, we discover unforgettable romantic landscapes, we live through extraordinary adventures, but we also experience a certain kind of solitude. And it's when the solitude is filled that we realise the importance of friends.

It is true that during all those hours pedalling when the mind wanders, we often think back to the good times spent with family or friends. When we say that we are "thinking of you", it is not just a polite phrase! And these thoughts have also helped us in difficult times… But we had not expected to make new friendships during our trip! Here we are creating additional memories to rekindle... And it is also the explanation of our "extended" stay in Arequipa ...

• The winner of this episode: the breakfasts of Danitza's mother... But we have already told you all about that.
• And also... The Sunday "adobo". Every Sunday morning, Danitza and Francois are invited to eat an "adobo" with Danitza's father, who lives just five minutes walk away (her parents are "cordially" separated). The adobo is a thick soup served with delicious and huge chunks of pork. It replaces brunch and keeps you nurtured for the rest of the day! And today, of course, we are included in the invitation. The father is just as nice as the mother, and Olivier finds himself with a glass of anise liqueur in his the hands. It's not easy to down in one at 10 o'clock in the morning, ... But Olivier does quite well.
• Rum mangos prepared by Francis... And his strawberry one is almost as good! (not to mention his wine...)
• Alpaca meat! Oh yes, just like sheep, they are not only bred for their wool ... So we tried it for you: a little chewy (we prefer sheep!), but not so bad!
• Yoghurts of Arequipa: We buy them in 1 litre jars. They are liquid, perfumed, and we can finish one between the two of us!
• The quiñoa: Maybe you already know this little seed from Latin America? It is often sold in "bio" and "fair trade" stores. Here, it is sold next to rice and pasta, but, unlike its neighbours, it has the advantage of being very rich in protein: a boon for us! We eat it boiled, like pasta, or in soup. It's a little like durum wheat but... Well try it, you will see! We, we like it!
• The "queso frito": local cheese, fried in a pan. We tried it in a shop, and now we do some every night. The Peruvian cheese does not run and cooks well. Fried and served in pieces in a salad with herbs de Provence, it's delicious!

• The first climb, very steep, out of Cuzco: but where did the air go?
• The last few kilometres on the railroad to Machu Picchu, both going and coming back: ouch, our ankles!
• For Amanda, the climb up to 4300 m with a stomach that did not want to stay put ...
• The last few kilometres before reaching a hot water spring at 4000 m. Night had fallen, the signpost had said "spring in 5 km", and still nothing ... And the road goes up steeper and steeper!
• Rain, snow, hail, and the head wind, which had done all it could to prevent us from re-crossing the Andes.
• The terrific fall of Olivier, fortunately not serious: we must have a guardian angel who protects us!
• A major technical problem: our new Super Chainrings, "Special TA" very expensive and purchased in anticipation of hard going, are in the process of falling apart! They have not withstood the Andes, and the screwthreads that hold the plates together are stripping one after another, twisting the screws. Olivier managed to replace them with bolts cut down with a metal saw, but how long will they last? Moreover, both bikes are affected ... We are very disappointed by this (French) manufacturer that we thought was infallible! (and hurrah for the metal saw, brought just in case).
  

• The nights under the stars of the Andean sky...
• The first glimpse of Machu Picchu, from the summit of Mount Putucusi...
• The Machu Picchu! Of course...
• Meeting Simon and his family, in Machu Picchu, and glass of fruit juice that he bought us.
• The colourful market in Chinchero.
• The children in a village in the Altiplano who sang a school song for us.
• Meeting Francis in Cuzco.
• Our multiple victories on the Andean passes at over 4000m.
• The hospitality of Francis, Danitza and his family in Arequipa, maybe we will return in 2010?

Part 3

After three days of city life, we start to feel restless: it’s time to move on. But we cannot leave this area without visiting the famous "Cañyon del Colca," some 100 km north, that we had renounced to visit by bike in because of the catastrophic weather conditions.

Today, the sun shines in Arequipa, we hope it will also shine in the canyon! Two days ago, we met Nico, a tourist guide from the southwest of France (another one!), He plans to take a friend, Selma, to visit the canyon. He proposes that we go together, cool! And so we set off, not by bicycle, but by bus for two days hiking in canyon country. We set up our base camp in the tiny village of Yanqué, in the Colca Valley, unknown to tourists. It is truly picturesque with its peaceful cobbled streets.

From here, first we discover a valley, which is not yet canyon, but which is worth a visit: terraces and Incan ruins. The valley has been completely reworked by the Incas, and is completely terraced. In fact the Peruvian word for "terraces" is "andenas" and this is the origin of the name given to the Andes! In any case, the result is truly impressive, it is almost like being in an Asian landscape, and each terrace has a different tint of green.

Selma is a very nice girl, a Parisian who has taken a year’s break to discover South America on foot. She is very simple in spite of a lot of travel experience, and we immediately get on well together. Nico, is both an excellent and a good friend. He left France, his wife, and a job in an office, to realize his dream: be a tourist guide. And he is the best guide in the agency! He knows very well what he is doing and has an immense culture.

In short, people we like, who are not complicated, and who take life as it comes.
For the next day, Nico gives us a choice: either the go to the very touristy, "Cruz del Condor", or make a hike on little known circuit with an Inca citadel and a view down the length of the canyon. We hesitate a little: we have no desire to find ourselves in the middle of 800 other tourists on the only panoramic viewpoint of the canyon, nor to pay 70 sols of "boleto turistico" (of questionable legality). However, it is true that at "Cruz del Condor", there is a good chance to see ... Condors, of course! But the probability is only 50% and there should be a 40% chance to see a condor on the hike. Finally, we favour the suggestion of the hike, and Selma is the same opinion: lets flee from the tourists and go walking!
The circuit takes us up above the terraces, and after climbing about 400 metres, we reach the point of view that is also the location of a small Inca citadel. It is superb, and we can fully admire the vastness of the canyon, which stretches out just in front of us.

It is the second deepest canyon in the world, just after the Canyon del Cotuhasi, which is only a few tens of kilometres away. But Nico explains that the latter has won its title because the neighbouring mountains are higher. In any case, it is only a question of 150 m difference and the 3191 m of the Canyon del Colca is impressive...

It is very different from the Canyon del Pato, which we still prefer, but here the impression of depth takes on another dimension. In short, we are open-mouthed before this sacred panorama. Especially as the ruins of the citadel are very well preserved and the aspect "unknown to tourists" pleases us! However, we have no luck with the condors, they are absent from the scene... But we learn that there were non to be seen in Cruz del Condor either... No matter we prefer albatrosses anyway!
Back in Arequipa, we are very happy to find Francis and Danitza again. They were unable to leave their cafe, but they convince us to stay another day, under the false pretext of needing to shop before leaving. The last evening in their company will be joyful, because Nico and Selma also come to say goodbye.
Selma offers all of us a glass of rosé wine, and then it's Francis's turn to "offer a round" giving us a taste of his rum perfumed with fragrant fruit from the market. Again, we discover an alcohol that we appreciate aahh!, Francis’s mango rum... "Little Jesus in velvet breeches!" We have never drunk so much in a single evening: a glass of wine, and two of rum, youhou! We discovered that Nico had nicknamed us "Barbie and Ken". It makes everybody laugh... and the nickname is going to stick...

Well, this time, it really is "goodbye" and the next morning the farewells are difficult. Our friends cover us with small gifts and fill our bags with delicacies: bananas and onions from the garden, and also a jar of jam and a paté from the kitchen of Francis’s mother in distant Southern France. A priceless present in Peru! We later find that they have hidden small surprises hidden in our bags: they too are priceless!

To resume, the separation is difficult, and we want to see them again… why not in 2010? After all, we have still to climb Misti volcano together! We give each other a big hug, and then leave, very quickly, before the tears flow... Thanks to both of you...

For the first kilometres, we are silent and nostalgic of past moments. Fortunately there are two of us, and little by little smiles return to our faces as we remind each other of the laughter of the previous days.

And little by little, we are again invaded by the magic of the journey and by the sight of passing scenery. The white city gives way to a reveal beautiful red and ochre desert. The colours shimmer under the blue sky. But unlike Mauritania, the desert in Peru is not flat. The road undulates between small rocky mountains, and sometimes the slope is steep.

At the top of the biggest hill, we stop for lunch. And then we have a bad surprise, we realize that Amanda, upset by the departure, has forgotten the plastic bag with our shopping: No cheese! No yogurt! Nor fruit jelly, nor sweet potatoes ... Misery, what can we put on our bread? We were sadly nibbling a banana trying to turn our thoughts elsewhere... When a miracle happened: a car stopped in front of us, and out stepped... Danitza! With the forgotten bag in her hands, and a bottle of freshly pressed strawberry juice, Amanda’s favorite... "Delivery of fresh juice! Whew, I was afraid not to find you!" She has taken a taxi all this way, just for us... An angel... Finally, two angels, since Francis made the strawberry juice and stayed behind to keep shop. We laugh and cry with joy and surprise: we can hardly believe it! And just in time! Danitza cannot linger, and after another hug, she jumps back into the taxi... But she leaves behind her two lucky and happy people, who eagerly devour juice, cheese and yoghurt, blessing those caring friends!
Meanwhile, ascent gives way to a dizzying descent of almost 1000 metres. We drop down from the Andes for the second time. But we also fight against a strong head wind, which will hinder us all the way to Chile and make us push on the pedals even when the ground slopes gently downwards. The mountainous flatten gradually, and if the Misti and Chachani are still visible behind us, they look much smaller...
For the days to come, Danitza had said, "its downhill all the way to Chile!" Great! But we now find out that this statement is only a mathematical average of the reality that we meet "on the bike..." It is true that Arequipa is at 2400 m, and Tacna, the last town before the border with Peru, is only at 460m. So obviously...

Well, no! We have to face a climb of more than 800 m today, and the following days will be very similar. In fact, we alternate between fabulous steep but brief descents and extremely exhausting and long, long climbs! Logical, we hear you say, if you travel five times faster downhill than uphill, then you are condemned to spend five times longer working hard up the hills... But to the devil with calculations, shortness of breath or not, the road is absolutely magnificent.

We cycle in the middle of multicoloured mountains ranging from bright yellow to deep red, and the sky is permanently blue: the rain in the Andes is now far behind us! Here, it is much hotter, but the permanent wind (permanent headwind, may I remind you?) keeps us cool ... And the mountains alternate with vast desert plains, where we feel very small. Unlike the Mauritanian desert, the landscape is not uniformly flat, and our eyes always have a nice relief to look at, which takes fabulous colours when the sun drops over the horizon.

That, and particularly the more moderate temperatures, makes this crossing of the new desert incomparably easier than the previous one. Especially as villages or restaurants, lost in the middle of nowhere, seem to be spaced at exactly the right distance so that we never lack water. Nevertheless we still carry more than 10 litres in our bags... And it makes hard work for our thighs!

Between these climbs and descents that seem to alternate to infinity, we remember Lucy who told us: "the Andes are 1000 m up and 1000 m down on the same day." That remark had almost scared us, but finally, today, for example, we have done 850 m positive and negative, and we survive pretty well!
After three days of pedalling in the desert, we come to the small town of Moquegua, at the entry to an unexpectedly fertile valley, hidden in the dunes. Suddenly, there are green, cultures and the birds singing! Back to life again! It does us good in the middle of this never-ending desert of shades of ochre and yellow!

Before entering the valley, we have nasty surprise: a control anti- "moscas de la fruta", against the fruit fly (Drosophila). We are still relatively human so we should get through OK... But our precious fruit will not be allowed to pass! Since we left Arequipa, we have seen several panels proudly reporting that this or that village has eliminated the flies that seem to be a real problem in the region. Perhaps they are those horrible little gnats that bite, and leave itchy spots worthy of the most toxic mosquitoes? We have already suffered, and in this case one can understand their desire to eradicate them... But strangely, we are not as enthusiastic when it is a question of our fruit: What do you mean "potential vectors of the parasite?" But our fruit is perfectly clean! What? We must destroy it?! We are not allowed to bring it into the valley? Out of the question to leave it all with the controllers: we sat in front of the roadblock, and we ate our four bananas, three grenadines and two lemons front of the astonished gaze of the officials. Well, waste not, want not... And moreover we have serious doubts as to the proper functioning of the system ... On the way out of the town, there is no roadblock to control the inflow of fruit in the opposite direction! Would this fly only come from the north? Well, it is fortunate that our stomachs have a great capacity! (and in a way we swindled the control didn't we?).

And after replenishing our supplies in the village market (under the watchful eye of dozens of curious onlookers, who always ask the same questions again and again), we set off again for a several days pedalling in the desert hills of southern Peru. We alternate between zones of steep climbs and difficult descents, as indicated by explicit signs "Be carefull! Vertical curve!", and with immense plains, where the road stretches on to infinity: we are back on the Panamerican highway! But here, the traffic is much less intense than Trujillo, and only a few trucks overtake us with a sympathetic but deafening hoot of their horn. During a lunch break, we find an unusual shelter: a tiny chapel built by the roadside, in the middle of nowhere! We have regularly seen small houses less than 1 m high, surmounted by a cross and decorated with plastic flowers and ribbons: Peruvians seem to attach much importance to the memorials of their loved ones killed on the road...

But here, religion is even more involved in prevention: this little chapel is intended to protect all travellers who stop there, as explained in a prayer engraved on the walls. In France, the building would have been abandoned or tagged. But here, there is a bouquet of freshly cut flowers on the altar. And what an altar! It is covered with rosaries, medallions, framed or illuminated pious images, plastic or paper flowers and the remains of melted candles. Finally a chapel that is regularly used for something!

We try to imagine a beefy muscular lorry driver depositing a small bouquet of roses under an image of the virgin. This too, is life in Peru!

Our last stop before the border between Peru and Chile is the city of Tacna, near the coast. We fill our saddlebags with cheese and fruit because everything is much cheaper here than in Chile. We also experienced our first earthquake, which apparently panicked only ourselves, and also our first interview on the local radio: we improvise with our approximate Spanish, we surely make the audience laugh!

In the evening we set up camp between two dunes, just 5 km from the border. We enjoy the spectacle of a sunset on an old friend, the Pacific Ocean, which we had left in Trujillo long ago! Tomorrow we will leave Peru...

We arrive at the border on the morning of December 5th, leaving the Peruvian desert behind us.
The formalities to leave Peru are simple: an exit stamp on our passports, and that’s all! However, entering Chile, is more complicated because... the fruit fly strikes again! We discover with horror that we are not permitted to bring fruit, vegetables, dairy products, eggs or meat into Chile. Oh no! Anticipating the difference in the cost of living, we have done our shopping in Tacna, and our bags are bursting with fruit, eggs and cheese! But what can we do? Each bag is automatically X-rayed... And in front of the eyes of despairing Olivier, the officials remove all our onions, an avocado, three bananas, half a cucumber, and worst of all, four huge perfectly ripe mangoes that we treasured. Olivier attempts the same tactic as before: "can we eat them here? ". But customs officials surely want to recuperate the fruit for their own consumption, "No, it’s forbidden, they must be destroyed." And the mangoes disappear from our view forever... It was just too much for Olivier, who ruminates the rest of the day over his lost treasure: "Four mangoes! Our mangoes! Thieves! Four mangoes! Perfectly ripe! My mangoes! ". Amanda, sees things a little differently: "It's wonderful! They did not find the cheese! Nor the eggs nor our tomatoes! Hurray! "Yes, but four mangoes!" Oh, he is inconsolable... However, apart from the Fruit Formalities, our arrival in Chile is simple, a new stamp on the passports, and here we are in our sixth country! Apart from the fact that the customs are isolated in the middle of the desert, they have nothing other in common with those of the Mauritanian border. Here the buildings are new and spacious, equipped with scanners and numerous polite officials. It makes a change, even compared to Peru! We take advantage of our presence in these modern installations to wash our hair in the lavatory sinks: it was needed!
And so here we are, clean, our saddle bags a little lighter (four mangoes!), on the roads of... Chile!

• Leaving Francis and Danitza.
• The "descent" of the Andes, with 800 m of uphill climb per day and a constant headwind that depressed us.
• Yet another gastroenteritis for Olivier, with difficult nights between Moquegua and Tacna.
• Four mangoes!
  

• Seeing Danitza arrive at the top of our hill with the forgotten bag and a bottle of strawberry juice. It was probably the best moment of our trip!
• The evenings spent with Nico, Selma, Francis and Danitza.
• Twice, after responding patiently to the always identical questions of the curious onlookers who flock around our bikes, we were offered, with a big smile, soft drinks or hot cakes: We promise, we will stop complaining about our "fans" They are adorable!
• The multicoloured desert landscapes of Peru, and sunsets on our bivouacs, alone in the world... We will miss Peru!