South America | 2016-2017

Chapter 1: Colombia

Audrey writes:

All of our past trips had begun in Germany, and we always felt a certain familiarity with that country for various reasons. We had visited there in 1996 on a six-week bicycle trip, and three year-long trips started from here in 2002 around Europe, 2007 to Africa (when we spent four months living in Schwaig) and 2012 to Asia. Having a sister and her family living there made it a great base to begin our journeys. So, flying to Bogota and being immediately immersed in Latin America was the definition of culture shock. It would have been a good idea to learn some of the language, yes, but we had gotten by in many other countries by knowing only the basics (hello, thank-you, goodbye, and ice-cream). A year ahead of us of mostly interacting with Spanish speakers (Portuguese in Brazil) seemed a little daunting, though. After landing at Bogota El Dorado Airport on the evening of July 8th, 2016, we muddled our way through customs, paying the $76.00 reciprocity fee for entering the country, and ignored requests from private taxi drivers to take us downtown, instead going to the taxi line-up. Ekke had done some research, and discovered that private taxis were not necessarily safe. He also found an iPhone App, Tappsi, which we used for trips in Bogota, summoning a taxi by entering our location, getting a licence plate number and cab driver name, and within minutes the cab showed up. Easy.

Leaving our home in Redwood Meadows

 


The bikes on the weigh scale at Air Canada Cargo.  Each bike goes into a container like this.

 

Booking a hotel ahead of time was a great idea, and the Estelar Windsor House would be our home for a week. The first day, Saturday, July 9th, we agreed would be a recovery day due to utter exhaustion from weeks of preparations and worry about forgetting something for the trip. So, we just got to know the neighbourhood, finding Rosario, our new hair stylist, and both got long overdue haircuts. Another client, Denis from Montreal, started up a conversation with us, and he was in Bogota working for Agriteam, based out of Calgary. Small world. The neighbourhood, Chico, was quite far north of the centre, in a more affluent area, which made it a pleasure to walk around in. Diner restaurant on Parque De La 93, where we tried eggs with rice, provided for some great people watching. Every second person seemed to be walking a dog, and right next door there was a pet emporium, with dogs reappearing after a visit inside, professionally coifed. I glimpsed a fashionable couple, two-up on a motorcycle, riding around the square, dressed in matching bright, lime-green outfits. Upon closer inspection, we realized that it was actually a couple of motorcycle police officers, patrolling the streets. We saw them everywhere after that. Nearby Parque Chico was a lively place, just packed with families picnicking on the grass. A live band belted out Tu Vo Fa Americano, a song from that movie with Matt Damon, set in Italy, and we even knew some of the words. A small market was doing brusque business, giving out free samples of fettucine, helado (ice-cream) and carne (barbecued meat) to entice customers. We just soaked up the atmosphere, a perfect way to recoup our energy.

Picnic in Chico Park

 


Yummy sausages at the picnic

 
Audrey enjoys lunch at the Diner on Parque De La 93

 

After a buffet breakfast which included fish soup, empanadas, fresh exotic fruits, (what is guanabana, anyway?), yogurts, a variety of pastries and delicious coffee, we took a Tappsi taxi to La Candelaria, the old town. More than 120 kilometres of roads in Bogota are closed from 7:00 AM to 2:00 PM on Sundays to allow safe passage for recreational cyclists. What a great idea and well used. The taxi driver wove in and out of traffic, changing lanes and nearly swiping other vehicles, braking and accelerating with gusto. I expected to see a guy with a chequered flag as we crossed the finish line with a screeching halt, into the old town square. The ride cost about 18 000 COP, or Colombian Pesos, or $9.00. The centre square was very lively, with a book market, sidewalk painters, and police recruits doing training activities.

Lively La Candelaria district

Our Lonely Planet guidebook had warned us that going to the Museo del Oro on a Sunday was not a great idea, as it was free that day, and therefore packed with locals. They were not kidding. We were hard pressed to find an area that was not jam-packed with people and it took some finagling to see some of the exhibits and read descriptions (which were in Spanish and English) and get some photos without having someone's head in the shot. The museum did not disappoint, however, as we were just stunned by the 55 000 pre-Hispanic gold artefacts. One floor was devoted to the mining and metallurgy of the gold, which was quite an advanced process for the time period, or so we read. Another floor displayed figurines and jewellery from different regions, some with animal themes like jaguars and anacondas. The third floor displayed statues that were used in offerings, or gold pieces that had been thrown into a lake or volcano. How much gold had been sacrificed to satisfy the deities, I wondered? And, did it work?

A small selection of the thousands of gold artefacts at Museo del Oro in Bogota

 





 


 

Walking around La Candelaria was quite a different experience from the tidy and well-kept Zona Rosa, Parque 93 and Chico area where our hotel was located. The level of poverty was quite evident as displayed by the number of beggars and street people in general. This was the real Bogota, with crumbling buildings, huge holes in sidewalks and street food, and I loved the atmosphere. Some of the 300 year-old Spanish Colonial brick and plaster buildings were converted into quaint hostels, restaurants and shops, and others resembled the 'As Is' section in IKEA. Armed guards staffed the entrances to museums, including the 400 year old Santa Clara cathedral, looking in our bags and giving the bottoms of them an extra little tap, possibly to check for firearms. A lady from San Francisco heard us speaking English and gave us an impromptu history of the church, explaining that 'they' were kept 'down there' and not let out. I have yet to find out who 'they' were, and why they weren't let out. The altar area of the church was spectacular, covered in gold, with little alcoves holding 148 statues and paintings of saints.

Simon Bolivar in Plaza de Bolivar

 
Inside Santa Clara Cathedral

 
Guards at the Presidential Palace

 

Walking up a cobblestoned street, we found a little lunch spot, the Preisz, and learned some Spanish food vocabulary by comparing the English menu to the Spanish one. I can now confidently order lettuce. Our upstairs seats overlooked colourful buildings with terracotta-tiled rooftops, cathedral towers in the distance. The Banco de la Republica hosted several museums in one complex in the middle of town, all with free admission, including the Botero Museum. Artworks of all things chubby awaited us, beginning with Fernando Botero's chubby Mona Lisa, chubby La Familia and chubby statues. There were a few Picassos, Dalis and Monets thrown in for good measure. Our taxi ride home was even more exciting, the driver cutting off dozens of others, passing on blind corners and clipping perfect apexes. Malfunctioning seatbelts just added to the excitement.

The colonial streets of Bogota

 


The Fernando Botero Museum

 




Taking a break from all the walking and museuming

We got a Tappsi taxi to the Lyn Cargo office at 9:30 AM the next morning, July 11th. The office girls did not speak English (or, rather, we did not speak Spanish) but we used Google Translate on their computer to communicate. We paid $296.00 US, feeling thankful that Ekke had brought some US cash with him. We then took a taxi to DIAN or Customs at the airport and Libardo of Lyn Cargo rode his motorcycle there to meet us. He got us security badges and walked us to GHI Air Cargo. After a long wait, we went back to Customs, which closed for lunch until 2:00 PM. So we invited Libardo to join us for lunch at Subway where I ordered avocado with my tuna sub, almost causing an international incident because the servers thought it was a crazy combination. They seemed baffled that I would pay extra for avocado. After waiting for Libardo at Customs again, we went back to Trans Aero cargo handlers. We decided to have coffee while waiting and walked down many hallways to Oma's for cappuccinos. We were finally in the cargo bay at 4:00 PM and waited for the bike crates to be brought in. Eventually we saw my bike being wheeled out. It was an exciting moment. Ekke's soon followed. Libardo took photos of the chassis numbers to show to the officials and the customs agent had me open my bags and take the seat off. She also opened Ekke's tent bag for inspection. Ekke rolled my bike on the scale and it was 226 kilograms or 4 kg less than in Calgary. Ekke's was 287, or 1 kilogram less. Better than being heavier than what they started at, I guess. A crowd formed and our audience watched the proceedings. I was eager to just ride away, as it got dark at 6:00 PM, and I needed the advantage of daylight to ride back to the hotel safely considering how exciting the taxi rides had been. But after that it was back to Customs, and after many forms and much waiting around, we followed Libardo back towards GHI Cargo for photocopying. When that was done Libardo said we could go home while he ran the photocopies to Customs.  It was 11:00 PM by the time we got back to the hotel and collapsed into bed.

All we saw of the bikes on Day #1 (for the Customs inspection)

 
A crowd of "fixers" gathers around the last three Customs clerks at 9:30 PM

 

Back at the airport for Day #2, we first retrieved cash from the bancomat, obtained security tags and then went to meet Libardo at the GHI Air Cargo office. After waiting in line for the final final paperwork, we went to the cargo bay, where they wheeled out the bikes again. The next problem was how to get them out of the cargo terminal. The loading bays were for trucks, which meant they were two metre drop-offs. Libardo suggested riding them down the steps and we just balked, "Yeah, right." Ekke saw a ramp at another cargo bay but it was not connected to our bay. We waited a long time because they finally decided they could take the bikes back through the secure area and out through the parking lot out back. We took various photos with some staff and vice versa, and one girl sat on my bike. It was taking way too long for anyone to take action with the bikes, so, we took the saddlebags off my bike, and attempted to wheel it through a door into the foyer, and through some glass doors. It really had to tilt sideways to get through, but it worked. Then Ekke walked it down some steps while I caught it all on film, just in case something really exciting was about to happen. His bike went through the same procedure, and he did well by wiggling the enormous BMW R1200GS Adventure through the narrow doors, and then down the stairs. No problem. After a carne or meat empanada while we waited for Libardo to finish the final final final paperwork, we rode out, parked, returned the security badges and followed him to the segura or insurance office. It cost us 110 000 pesos ($55.00) each for three months, minimum, insurance. We also got a free gift of a micro fleece towel and hand wash, which made the long wait so worthwhile. Total time to retrieve the bikes; 16 hours.

Finally, the bikes are out!

 
But how do we get them out of the warehouse?

 


 


 

After saying goodbye to Libardo, Ekke used the GPS to get us to the hotel. It was an exhilarating experience, weaving in and out of traffic, especially after the long ordeal of retrieving the bikes from the cargo terminal. There were only a few uh-oh moments for me - once when I lost Ekke due to cars cutting me off and then having to slip quickly in behind a bus and in front of a car to change to a middle lane surrounded by barriers, and again when I was squeezed toward the curb and braked hard to avoid getting swiped. Bikes split lanes here, riding in between vehicles and it really gets them ahead of traffic. I tried it once, to catch up to Ekke, and my saddlebags were so close to other vehicles on both sides, but thankfully I did not hit anyone. In any case, I felt in control on the bike, able to avoid the crazy drivers who constantly changed lanes to try to get ahead. And now I was one of them. How quickly we adapt. Back at the hotel, we rode to the underground parking lot, down a steep ramp, up another steep ramp, and into some small motorcycle spaces. An attendant moved a scooter so that we could fit our big bikes in. We were exhausted and just decided to go to Fuddruckers (!), a block or so away, for a burger. Ekke decided to ride to the BMW dealership later on to see if they could install his ignition switch, which they did, immediately. No charge. That Alberta licence plate sure opens doors. He then decided to buy a GS Adventure (hat) for 80 000 pesos ($40.00), which was a nice gesture after getting free service. I walked to the drugstore and bought some sunscreen, and walked around the area a bit. It really is a nice part of the city, and I felt quite safe on my own.

Donning our tourist caps for a day was just what we needed after a couple of stressful days of waiting around at the airport cargo terminal. A Catholic service was in progress at the San Francisco Cathedral, in the old town, and the singing was beautiful. The front of the church was a wall of gold, with a wooden ceiling that resembled the bottom of a ship. We sampled a local treat, Sanafreña, or bread with cheese, a biscuit and chocolate soup. Delicious. Nearby was the Casa De Moneda Museum, which had dioramas showing how gold was mined, weighed on a balance scale, and eventually minted into coins. In the same complex was the Museum of Contemporary Art, which had some paintings from the 1960s. Dinner at Crepes and Waffles was exquisite as everything is so well done in the restaurants here, with servers and chefs dressed in white, and everything sparkling and professional. We sat in the library of the hotel doing journals and Internet, sipping white wine, a Chilean Sauvignon Blanc, and agua con gas, or sparkling water.

Wandering the streets of Bogota

 


Museum of Contemporary Art

The next few days were filled with errands, hanging out at Starbucks (grande cappuccinos are a proven cure for culture shock), visiting swanky shopping malls and reading. I tucked into a novel, Delirium by Laura Restrepo, that I just couldn't put down, with a great story set in Bogota during the Escobar years. We were finally ready to hit the road on July 16th. Carrying my heavy bags down to the bike, I decided that I had way too much stuff, as usual. But it is so hard to know, beforehand, what to bring, especially in the way of clothes, with such diverse climates, urban and rural areas, and different activities awaiting us. So, a package will be mailed home very soon. The ride out of Bogota was a long process. Soon after leaving the affluent area, we saw the real, work-a-day, sprawling city. Police officers in their lime green outfits, ramshackle huts, fresh meat hanging under canopies, and stray dogs were everywhere. A bit of rain made one corner slippery, and Ekke warned me via our Sena communication system before I did anything sudden such as hit the brakes, and I gingerly eased around the greasy corner. Phew.

Leaving Hotel Estelar Windsor House

 
Through the "real" Bogota

 

It was very busy outside of Bogota, with a lot of traffic on the highway, but it felt so great to be on the road. A light mist in the lush, green rainforest was magical. The mist turned into a not-so-magical rain, and we should have followed the lead of the locals, who put their rain gear on. But, one always thinks, or hopes, that the rain will soon stop. We did, a while later, put our rain gear on and it felt much better. It was difficult to make good time in the populated hills, but eventually we came down to the dry valleys, where it warmed up considerably. All in all, drivers were fairly predictable but we had a few close calls with people passing when they shouldn't or coming up behind us very quickly. A motorcycle gang followed us and were very friendly, waving and smiling, as we approached the town of Neiva, just as it was getting dark. Navigating through town was extra challenging, as it started to rain, making it slippery, and then it got really dark. Our first rule of riding, not to ride in the dark, was broken on Day #1. Rookies. It was hot, about 27 C, but the hotel we had booked on Expedia, the Dorada, had air conditioning. Parking was a block down the street, in an empty, rocky lot, but it was fenced and we made sure we locked the saddle bags, put a lock on the wheels, put the bike covers on, and set the alarms. A friendly hole-in-the-wall pizza joint provided supper, and the owner's little boy tried to speak English to us, which a lot of students in Colombia are learning in school. Hanging around an air conditioned grocery store provided some respite from the heat and humidity. This was so different from Bogota, which had usually been a pleasant 20 C.


The ride toward San Agustin on July 17th was slow going on a double lane highway, with little villages and big towns every few kilometres. In the mountains, things moved a bit more quickly. We easily passed trucks, cars and other motorcycles, and the paved road was generally in good condition. Huge speed bumps greeted us at every town. Usually they were painted yellow and Ekke learned very quickly that for some of them, motorcyclists could skirt around on the shoulder to avoid them. Small towns usually had a few shacks with chairs set up to indicate a restaurant, with chickens walking around and lots of people going about their daily business. Actually, the main business on Sunday seemed to be drinking. I saw a small bar with people sitting there, several beer bottles in front of them, and it was only 10:00 AM. In one town, we parked near the square and bought some agua con gas and dulce leche, a creamy, thick spread about the consistency of Nutella and twice as sweet. It came with a spoon. A park bench in the square afforded a view of a small bar across the street where an argument had broken out. It ended with someone throwing a chair and someone else yelling and screeching off on a motorcycle. A crowd had formed to watch the excitement and us gringos on a couple of big bikes could not compete with that kind of entertainment.


There were quite a few military checkpoints along the roads, guys dressed in camouflage, carrying guns, and giving us the thumbs up, presumably to indicate that we needn't stop. Later, Ekke read that there was a general truckers' strike throughout most of the country, including the district we rode through. In fact, we had passed a convoy of trucks, with traffic controlled by the military, and wondered what was going on. The strike had been going on for 37 days. Hopefully it was behind us now as we moved into a new district. We couldn't see anything that appealed to us for a lunch stop, so we stopped at a little convenience store and bought some toasted buns to eat with our dulce leche. Delicioso. Tall, fair-haired, blue-eyed Ekke was a big hit, and the clerk wanted photos of her little daughters with him. The ride through the hills was delightful, with some fun, curvy roads. Another motorcyclist whizzed past us and rode the curves so quickly, seeming to know the road quite well. The hills had a lot of crops growing on them, with palm trees lining some of the fields. A beautiful waterfall dropped from a sheer cliff in the distance, surrounded by greenery.


A grotto by the side of a cliff and a picture of Che Guevera marked the entrance into San Agustin. The roads were mostly paved, except the last part to Hotel Internacional. The groundskeeper opened the gate, and we rode up to a steep parking lot. Individual cabins were themed, and we stayed in the Indigina, which had wooden beams, a loft, and interesting paintings on the walls. Other cabins included the Swiss chalet, a Chinese pagoda, and Spanish hacienda. Fun. A walk to downtown took us 5 minutes and there was a parade going on with a local princess dressed in a long red gown, standing in the back of a pick-up truck, throwing candy to the kids. A band was playing in another truck that followed. And that was the whole parade, but it seemed to have brought the entire town out to watch. Lonely Planet led us to El Fogon restaurant where Ekke took a chance and ordered the mystery special, which turned out to be pork. I ordered the caballo, and, wondering what caballo was, looked it up on Google Translate. The English translation said…"Horse." It was not too late to change my order, thank goodness. Someday I will work up the courage to try it, and now, whenever we see a horse in a field, we both chime in with, "Lunchtime." Back at the hotel, we found some comfy chairs upstairs and the owner brought us a couple glasses of water. We had to discretely pour it into the plant, however, as we weren't sure if it was safe to drink unbottled water in Colombia (who did the prep for this trip anyway?).

The grounds of the Hotel Internacional in San Agustin (we're in the round building)

 
Ekke checks out the loft.  Turns out it's a perfect place to dry things (see below).

 
The parade wasn't very big, just the princess in a pickup truck and the band in a dump truck

 

The bikes were parked in a very safe and gated courtyard so we didn't put the bike covers on. After it rained all night, we were quite disappointed to discover that our new custom waterproof liner bags were not waterproof. What a mistake not testing them before we left, but, as usual, we ran out of time. Rookies. A lot of stuff was quite wet, and we spread it out inside the hotel room. The computer was soaked. After shaking water out of it, Ekke let it dry out for a bit, and, magically, it fired right up and seems to be working fine. Way to go, Sony Vaio.


We donned our raingear over our walking clothes and scootered over to San Agustin Archeological Park, about 2.5 km out of town. After paying admission, about $10.00 each, we received a passport that was stamped in different parts of the park, starting with the museum. There was some information about the people that carved the statues out of volcanic tufa, but they had no written language. They lived here 5000 years ago and were gone before the Spanish arrived. The statues were carved as funerary monuments, over 500 of them. Some of them were recognizable animals, such as toads and monkeys, some were human figures, and some a combination, all of them unique. The hike took us to three different areas where we saw statues in situ. The Fuente de Lavapatas, my favourite area, had carvings of human faces, iguanas and other creatures, right in the creek bed as the huge rocks there were very flat, and small canals were carved so the water could meander right over the carvings. The oldest, Alto Lavapatas was a steep climb up slippery, rocky stairs and pathways, but the views were beautiful, with houses and farms dotting the hillsides in the distance. Some tombs had been excavated further down, and we nicknamed one statue Michael Jackson because it was holding a baby upside down. Our other favourites were Peek-A-Boo guy and The Bird. I haggled for a little Michael Jackson souvenir statuette as the seller wanted 20 000 pesos and I got him down to 15 000 or $7.00, which was still paying way too much. Dinner was at a small place in town, and they seemed surprised to have gringos there as it was not a place that was listed in Lonely Planet. The server ran to another bar to get my Club Colombia cerveza, and our hamburgers and drinks came to 20 000 pesos, or $10.00, which, again, was still paying way too much. We stopped at an Olympic supermarket for garbage bags to pack our stuff in, in case it rained again. Rookies.

Pulling up to the archeological park in San Agustin

 





 





 

Ekke writes:

Waterfalls as we descend from San Agustin to the Rio Magdalena

 
Climbing the road to Popayan we enter the clouds

 


Some of the vegetation at 3,000 metres is very similar to Mount Kilimanjaro

 


 

Ekke checks in at the San Martin in Popayan

 
Wandering around Popayan in the evening

 

Since the hotel was so nice and Popayan was so pretty we decided to stay another night.  Audrey's F650 had a bent shock bolt that we had discovered when we put the Hyperpro shocks on a couple of weeks prior.  We had ordered a strengthened bolt from Best Rest products but it didn't arrive in the mail until a couple of days before departure so we had just brought it along.  With the nice clean underground parking garage this was a good opportunity to install it in peace and quiet.  While I did that, Audrey started writing for the website.  In the afternoon we walked over to the Natural History Museum where a plethora of stuffed animals of mostly birds, but ranging from a zebra to a snake to a moose and even a polar bear, were showcased in their morbid glory in glass display cases.  As July 20 is Colombia's Independence Day we walked down to the main square and enjoyed the festivities along with everyone else.

Ekke installs the new, stronger shock bolt

 
Yep, that's bent alright.  Perhaps this happened in Mongolia and the enormous pothole?

 
Checking out the Natural History Museum

 


 


 
Wandering around the "White City" of Popayan on Independence Day

 





 

Check out was almost as inefficient as check in since we were third in line behind someone else checking out and someone checking in (didn't they know you can only check in between 3:00 and 5:00?).   We pulled out of the parkade at 9:30 and headed south, down the Pan Americana towards Pasto.  From now on we would just keep heading south, all the way to Ushuaia.  Navigation should be easy from now on then.  The road steadily dropped in elevation and the temperature increased commensurately, topping out at 36 degrees at 400 metres elevation.  Perhaps because of the truckers' strike in Colombia, we ran across a couple of convoys with police escorts.  Mostly quite a bit of fun to blast past on the motorbikes but at a small town two opposing convoys caused a traffic jam with no way to ride around the mess.  Conveniently we were stuck right beside a cafe.  So we pulled over and they were serving a local delicacy called kumis.  Well, we were told it was kumis but kumis is a sour drink and this was sweet and it was thick like yoghurt, eaten with a spoon.  In any case, it was delicious.  Washed down with an agua con gas (see, we are learning Spanish food names) it made for a refreshing break from the heat and by then the traffic had cleared up.  What was especially curious was that the population of the town and surrounding areas was African American rather than the Hispanic population that seems to make up the majority of the Colombian population.  I wonder what the history of that is?  After the traffic had cleared up we continued south and started climbing again reaching Pasto in the late afternoon.  The hotel was either brand new (and unfinished) or being renovated.  In either case, our room was modern and clean.  Secure parking for the motorbikes was in the hotel owner's own home, half a block away.  In their living room.  On a marble floor.  Shame about that muddy road from San Agustin.  Anyway, after freshening up we walked to the old town centre and had dinner at Salon Guadalquiver, where they had fabulous local specialities such as quimbilitos, envueltas de chocolo and empanadas de anoje.  The owner of the restaurant came over and chatted with us in excellent English (learned in Dublin) and told us how his mother had started the restaurant 50 years ago and he had been running it for many years now.  The food was absolutely delicious so we made a mental note (we know how reliable those are) to come back here on our way back north next year.  Even though the sun had just set we felt safe enough to walk the couple of kilometres back to the hotel where they had put a couple of mints on the bed, stuffed a hot water bottle (nice since it was quite cool at this elevation) into the bed and cleaned up our luggage.  A knock on the door a little while later and room service delivered a nice hot, super-sweet, herbal tea along with a piece of cheese for the night snack.

OK, head south on the Pan Americana.  Won't need the GPS anymore...

 


The road south climbed mountains and descended into valleys

 
Colombia Transportation:  Safety is job 1.  Well, maybe job 2 or 3...

 


The hotel owner, William on the left, insists we park the bikes in their living room

 
If you're ever in Pasto, Colombia you have to try this restaurant: Salon Guadalquiver

 
Yummy

 

At the border of Colombia and Ecuador

 

Our route through Colombia  

 

Chapter 2: Ecuador and Galapagos

Ekke Writes:

Only minutes into Ecuador and the wildlife is already evident


Four-lane highway under construction

 
Arriving at the Land of the Sun

 
Lovely view from our balcony with Imbabura volcano towering over Cotacachi

 
The bikes should be secure here at the rear of the cathedral

 
The front of the cathedral

 

Bright, colourful paintings at the Otovalo Market for the tourists

 
Bolts of cloth for the locals

 




Waiting for the bus after the shopping is done

 
Imbabura volcano watches over the dusty, empty animal market

 
A special mass at the cathedral in Cotacachi ends with dancing and a parade

 

Idyllic courtyard of the Land of the Sun hotel

 
Riding to Quito

 

Parque Plaza Grande is the heart of Quito

 
The park is framed by the Catedral Metropolitana de Quito (shown here), the presidential palace and city hall

 
Iglesia do San Francisco

 
A tame parakeet in the courtyard of the museum adjacent to the church is a pleasant surprise

 
Iglesia de la Compana de Jesus is baroque on the outside by way over-the-top baroque inside (no photos allowed)

 
Whoa, a chocolate lab?  Watch chocolates being made and enjoy samples.  Heaven.

 
The Museo Casa del Alabado displayed pre-Colombian treasures as art

 




Wandering the streets of old town Quito

 
Spanish colonial

 

Audrey writes:

Visiting the Galapagos had always been high on our ‘To Do’ list, so when our plans changed from riding east in South America to riding south, this was our big opportunity to go there. We had an inkling that Galapagos cruises were very expensive, so after looking at our options we settled on a four-day cruise and then three days on Santa Cruz Island doing a self-guided tour. The bikes were left in Quito in underground parking at Blue Zone Apartments (we highly recommend this place), locked up and alarms set.

The apartment owner’s driver took us to the airport at 5:00 AM on July 29th, and we were supposed to meet a representative from our tour company so we could get our cruise package of information. A rep from another company phoned our rep for us, and it turned out that our rep had slept in. So, we were able to get our own park passes for $20 US each and some boarding passes, with the help of the rep from the other company. In a couple of hours we were flying over the brilliantly blue sea, and the volcanic Galápagos Islands appeared in the distance. Beautiful. We landed at the airport on Baltra Island, near Santa Cruz Island. Usually a tour operator would have paid for our entry tax, but since we had booked the trip at the last minute and had no documentation because our rep had slept in, we were required to pay $100 cash, each, right at customs. We didn’t have $200 cash. A customs agent said we must pay it to go through, and I asked if there was a bank machine at the airport so that one of us could pay the fee, get the money and come back and pay the remainder. She said, "No." After much discussion, the customs agent said we were allowed to go but only if one of us left a passport there. We would then, we assumed, buy the pass in town, which was across the island, return to the airport, pay the fee and they would return the passport. Ekke reluctantly handed over his passport which, technically, you are supposed to carry with you anywhere in Ecuador. But then, when walking through the airport lobby, we spied a bank machine. We took out some cash, and Ekke went back through security and paid the customs agent, who happily returned his passport. Sheesh.

The airport on Baltras Island, just north of the larger island of Santa Cruz

 

A taxi took us across Santa Cruz Island, which went from very dry and arid, to lush and green in the highlands. La Casa De Judy hotel in Puerto Ayora overlooked the ocean, and Judy was the friendliest hotelier ever. The town was very touristy on the main street, with shops advertising boat tours or souvenirs. Big pelicans hovered around the fish-cleaning table, and a lone sea lion was stretched out on the warm concrete. Ekke saw some movement as we walked by the dock – little marine iguanas were scurrying around. Bright red and yellow Sally Lightfoot crabs sat on the black volcanic rock. So unusual. And all this wildlife was just in town.  Lunch at Il Giardino was fantastic, with views out to sea, and fresh fish on the menu.

La Casa De Judy, our home for three days on Santa Cruz

 
A fish seller on main street Puerto Ayora has to deal with pelicans and a sea lion

 


The lovely harbour at Puerto Ayora

One advantage of spending a few days on our own was that we could visit the Charles Darwin Research Station, which was not on our cruise itinerary. Walking the kilometre from the hotel beside a mangrove swamp was pleasant, and we were greeted by a park naturalist who explained what we could visit. Displays about the origins of the volcanic islands and conservation were excellent, and a huge whale skeleton was quite something to behold. The station also had a tortoise captive breeding program, and seeing our first of the giant beasts was awesome. We were a bit disappointed that the baby-tortoise incubator house was closed to the public, but we did see some land iguanas in their enclosures. Star-gazing from the hotel's rooftop terrace capped off a wonderful day, and we identified the Southern Cross constellation in the Southern Hemisphere sky.

The voyage of the Beagle in 1836 with Charles Darwin aboard

 
Part of the tortoise breeding program at the Charles Darwin Research Station

 

Judy helped us get a taxi to the Lava Tunnels the next day, up in the highlands. The volcanic tunnels were formed when the outside skin of a molten-lava flow hardened and emptied out. Ekke was very excited (not) to learn that we could walk for a kilometre underground. In past tunnels we had encountered, he inevitably ended up hitting his head due to his height. But as we climbed a steep path down into the dark opening, we realized that this tunnel was at least ten metres in height. It was fairly eerie walking through pitch-black tunnels, with only a flashlight and ourselves for company, and it reminded me of a road tunnel, but a bit more rocky. Seeing the proverbial light at the end of the tunnel was a welcome sight.

Enormous lava tunnel was a kilometre long

 
It was mostly easy walking in the tube but some scrambling was required

 
The light at the end of the tunnel

 

The taxi driver then took us to Rancho Primicius, where the big draw was Giant Galapagos tortoises. The beauty of this place was that one could wander among the free-ranging tortoises - they were not in enclosures and wandered around the island. The driver gave us an impromptu tour with his limited English and our limited Spanish. There was a lot of hand-waving and mimicking of tortoise behaviour. Somehow he explained that males had a rounded shell and females a flatter shell, which made the mating procedure easier. It was very special just hanging out with these glorious beasts, watching their necks telescope out to delicately pick up guava fruit to munch on. Their heavy bodies were supported by flippers, which had evolved into strong legs as they were now land animals. Our driver encouraged us to climb into a couple of tortoise shells for a photo op, and neither of us could lift the heavy shells, but we had a new respect for the weight tortoises carried on their backs. And for the mating procedure. We felt very privileged to spend this up-close-and-personal quality time with these majestic beasts.

A mural painting project at a school on Santa Cruz

 
Close to the ranch we spot a stray Giant Tortoise

 
We could barely budge the heavy shells, no wonder the turtles moved so slowly

 
The tortoises roamed wild and free while we were able to simply walk among them

 


Snack time of guava

 
To see the turtles so close up was simply magical

 

Tortuga Bay Beach was a 2.5 kilometre walk from town, so after fortifying ourselves with pizza, we headed up the rocky pathway. It was a very hot walk through a cactus forest, with the sun beating down, but the view of the blue sea and white stretch of sand that awaited us was worth it. Giant waves broke close to the beach to the delight of the surfers and we walked barefoot one kilometre down the soft, talcum powder stretch of sand. A jet-black volcanic rock was an interesting contrast to the white sand it was lying on, but then... the rock moved! It was not a rock after all, but a big black marine iguana, lying in the sun. Then, to our delight, it walked across the beach, stepped into the ocean and started swimming around. Several other marine iguanas crawled out of the mangroves to go for a swim as well. Some snorkelers got to swim with them and it must have been quite an experience.

The hike to Tortuga Bay Beach was hot...

 
... but so worth it

 
A marine iguana sunning itself on Tortuga Bay Beach

 
And then the marine iguanas head to the water to cool off

 
Swimming with the iguanas

 
The marine iguanas are well adapted to their surroundings.  How many are in this picture?

 

Our third day on Santa Cruz Island was spent sitting beside the pool at the hotel, catching up on CBC news via the internet, and planning the next part of our tour. In the afternoon we craved some much-needed exercise and took a water taxi to another bay to go on a hike. What luck to dock beside a beautiful restaurant, Angermayer Point, where we watched sea turtles swim by. The hike could wait. I tried the ceviche, which was three types of seafood in various sauces, complemented by plantain chips, and Ekke's octopus arrived on a hot lava stone. We finally got hiking, and a pathway of loose volcanic rock led us on a climb up to Las Grietas. This was a huge crack in the cliff, filled with sea water, like a fjord. Families were diving in and swimming up the inlet, enjoying the cool water on the hot day. Our walk took us by German Beach, also very popular with locals and tourists on this lovely Sunday, and we just sat and soaked it all in.

To roam the roads of lands remote, to travel is to live.  We knew we found our restaurant

 
Ekke tucks into his octopus

 
A warm walk through the cactus forest

 
Swimmers in Las Grietas

 

On August 1st, we began the second leg of our Galapagos journey, the cruise. A taxi took us to the airport in the morning, and we asked the driver to stop at Las Gemelos on the way. Here we walked beside two large sinkholes that had collapsed after the magma that formed the island had cooled. They looked like small canyons, and lots of birds called them home. At the airport, Ekke saw someone wearing a Galapagos Legend t-shirt, carrying a clipboard. It was a tour guide and we were quite relieved to see that he had our names on the list for the cruise, as we didn’t have any documentation. Our fellow passengers had just come by plane from the mainland, and a bus took us all to the dock where we saw the ship in the bay, the Galapagos Legend. Seas had the potential to be rough at this time of year, so we wanted to be on a bigger boat to lessen our chances of seasickness, which we had both experienced in the Mediterranean. This one had a capacity of 100 guests, but there were only 42 of us on board, which made it very roomy. Many other smaller boats also cruise the islands, and we spoke with people who had fantastic experiences on those as well. One worry was that a big boat would feel less personal, but we were divided into three groups, the Albatross (us), the Boobies (stop snickering) and the Cormorants, and we developed a camaraderie with our group members. Our cabin was lovely, with big windows, a couple of twin beds and a bathroom.

Las Gemelos sink holes

 
Our first view of the Galapagos Legend, our home for the next three nights

 

After a buffet lunch, the Albatross were called to the embarkation area where we donned life vests and took a dinghy to Mosquera Islet. A couple of playful sea lions greeted us, swimming around the dinghy. This was a wet landing, where we stepped out of the boat into the water and walked to the white-sand beach. Our naturalist guide, Marcella, a local from Puerto Ayora, told us about the group of sea lions at this beach, and we watched for the alpha male, the big one with a bump on its forehead. The remainder were females, and there were several babies as well. Some volcanic rocks formed a calm pool of water, a perfect nursery so the little ones could be safe from sharks. A few little marine iguanas climbed up the black volcanic rock, and lava gulls and frigate birds soared through the sky, hunting for fish.

A sea lion pup at Mosquera Islet as the "Albatrosses" arrive

 
Don't trip over the sea lion when disembarking

 


 



Sally Lightfoot Crab

 
Perfect white sandy islet

 
Nap time

 
A frigate bird

 

At meal times we shared a table with Sateesh and Meera, a couple from Rochester, New York, and we got to know them quite well. They regaled us with tales about their travels to all corners of the world, which was a lot of fun, and kindly asked us about our trips. They were also in our Albatross group, so we did our excursions together. Ekke and I joked with them that we had practised singing the theme song from Gilligan’s Island to prepare for karaoke night on the ship. After that their nicknames were ‘The Professor and Maryann’ as Sateesh was a university professor and Meera was a perfect Maryann. We even had a ‘Ginger,’ a lovely lady, Connie, from Tucson, whom we had met on the bus. So, that made Ekke ‘The Skipper’ and I must be ‘Gilligan’. We're pretty sure the 'Millionaire and his wife' were on the ship, as well. The opportunity for us to sing karaoke, however, did not, sadly, come up.


The boat cruised to North and South Plaza Islands sometime early in the morning, and we were relieved that it was smooth sailing. Ekke had heard the anchor lift and engine start and I had slept through it. A dry landing, where we could step out of the dinghy onto a concrete jetty, was great because we could just wear our hiking shoes. Slippery, smooth rock had been polished by basking sea lions, and we walked carefully toward a stand of Opuntia cacti. There, as if on cue, we saw our first land iguana. It looked like something from prehistoric times, its grey, white and yellow body covered in spiky armour. It was surreal to see such a beast, endemic to these islands. And it didn’t run away from us, having evolved without predators. The area around these few cacti was its own turf, and we saw his mates, two females, nearby. Further along we observed other iguanas eating a piece of cactus that had fallen to the ground, its main food source in the dry season. Back on the ship, we cruised to Santa Fe Island while enjoying an outdoor barbeque on the deck. There was no barbecued iguana on the menu, however, just pork, beef and shrimp.

On our way to the Plaza Islands

 
The spectacular land iguana

 

Also evolved to match its surroundings

 
Two female land iguanas

 
The tenders arrive to take us back to the Galapagos Legend

 
Barbeque lunch

 

Our choice to rent wetsuits for $10 each turned out to be a good one as the water was freezing. Ekke acquired the longest wetsuit they had, and it was still an ordeal for him to slither his 193 centimetre frame into it. Dinghies took us to a rocky area beside the island for deep water snorkelling, where we just rolled out of the dinghy into the ocean. It took a minute to catch my breath when I hit the cold water, but the wetsuit really did insulate well. Sea lions immediately came out to play and swam around us. Marcella had warned us that this was the only place in Galapagos where it was important for snorkelers to stay in groups of two or more. “Why?” we asked. “Because of sharks," she said. I stuck very close to Ekke while we snorkelled. A myriad of colourful fish greeted us, and the waterproof cameras that we carried on the motorcycles came in very handy. We were amazed by the variety of sea life and I began to feel more comfortable, enjoying the gentle waves, bobbing along with the current. Just as I was feeling very comfortable, we floated over a couple of really big fish, and I thought, those look an awful lot like…sharks! Cue the 'Jaws' soundtrack. Ekke and I nudged each other, our eyes bulging out in surprise, and quickly took some photos of them. A young snorkeler, travelling with his family from California confirmed it, saying, “Do you know that you just swam over sharks?” Anyway, the sharks just sat at the bottom of the ocean, minding their own business, but I think I would have freaked out if they had moved.

Looking trim in our snug wetsuits

 
Swimming with the fishes

 
Clear blue water

 
Sharks!

 

After climbing the ladder back up into the dinghy, we motored back to the ship, where we had just 30 minutes to struggle out of the wetsuits, shower, and head back to Santa Fe Island for a hike. The schedule is tight on these boat trips, something Ekke and I weren't used to. Sea lions lazed around on the sand and we headed up into the hills to search for the Santa Fe iguana. These iguanas weren’t quite as colourful as others we had seen, their grey colouring camouflaging them very well. But they were the biggest in the Galapagos. The cacti were also very interesting as they were so old that their trunks weren’t prickly anymore and were the size of a big tree.

Sea lions basking on the beach on Santa Fe Island

 
A well camouflaged lizard

 
A harmless snake

 
The largest Galapagos iguana lives on Santa Fe

 
Almost as if the cacti were planted specifically as a photo frame

 
The "Albatrosses" head back to the ship while sea lion pups look on with curiosity

 

San Cristobal Island was our destination the next morning. At Point Pitt we landed on an olivine beach, green in colour because of the minerals in the sand. After that we hiked on volcanic tuff, which Marcella explained was volcanic ash that had mixed with water and hardened. The whole hike was on tuff, and it was super steep and rocky, and we were warned that it would break away if we got too close to the edge of the cliff. It was the perfect habitat for boobies. Sitting in a nest, which was really just a flat spot on the ground, we saw a pair of baby blue-footed boobies but there was no adult to be seen. I was really getting worried that we would not see one. And then, there it was – a female blue-footed booby standing by its nest, a baby chick close by. It was so cool to see it in real life after only seeing it in pictures. Its feet were extremely blue. Marcella explained that the bluer the feet, the healthier the bird, meaning it had taken in some important nutrients. Further along, we spied some red-footed boobies, which live in the bushes, and watched a teenage booby take its first wobbly flight. Very special.

A colony of birds at Point Pitt

 
Climbing up to Point Pitt

 
Young boobies

 
Yes, the blue-footed booby!

 
Yep, those are really blue feet

 
The red-footed booby nests in trees, rather than on the ground

 
A booby poses with the Galapagos Legend

 
Yes, you can get this close

 
A youngster takes its first tentative, wobbly flight

 
A lava lizard

 

After hiking back to the beach, I jumped into my wetsuit, with Ekke's help, as Marcella was urging me to go quickly as the dinghy for deep water snorkelling was leaving. Ekke had been feeling a bit whoozie after the last snorkel trip, so he decided to snorkel in the calmer water by the beach. I didn't have time to think about what snorkelling by myself, without Ekke, in deep water, would be like, but I just took deep breaths and rolled off the dinghy into the water beside Bird Islet. The current gently took me beside the volcanic rocks and once again I was amazed at the diversity of fish. I even spied a stingray swimming along the bottom. I kept looking up to make sure other snorkelers were within sight, and in no time, the whistle blew and I climbed the ladder into the dinghy. Ekke had a different experience back on the beach, spending twenty minutes trying to climb into his two-sizes-too-small wetsuit. He eventually waddled over to Billy, a naturalist guide, to enlist his help. He finally made it into the water and snorkelled near the volcanic rocks, seeing many colourful fish. Some others were snorkelling with a baby sea lion near the beach, so he joined them and he got some great underwater photos of the playful pup.

Audrey goes deep water diving

 
And spots a stingray

 
While Ekke stays closer to shore and plays with a sea lion pup

 

A snack always awaited us as we climbed off the dinghy onto the Legend ship, such as little cakes, cheese or fruit dipped in chocolate. The hot shower in our room felt unbelievably good after a dip in the ocean, and there was a plastic basket under the bed to contain the wetsuits. Lunch included make-your-own tortillas that we could assemble ourselves, and we watched and learned how the family from Mexico City expertly wrapped up the ground beef, cheese, tomato and sour cream without making a mess. Talented.


Our next landing was at Cerro Brujo, or Witch's Beach, named after the shape of a cliff that resembled a witch in profile. While walking through a narrow beach pathway, Ekke accidentally stubbed his toe, much to the chagrin of a nearby sleeping sea lion, who turned and growled at the intruder. Ekke jumped up onto a sand dune to avoid an encounter of the unwanted kind with the sea lion. The guide, Billy, informed him that he couldn't walk on the dunes so as to not erode them. So, Ekke gingerly tiptoed beside the grumpy sea lion, who continued to eye Ekke with suspicion. The stretch of beach was crescent-shaped and as soft as powdered sugar. I wanted to try snorkelling again but another fellow said that the rough sea was stirring up a lot of sand and it was very turbid, so the fish could not be seen. So, we just enjoyed the beach, and I played in the big waves for a while. While I was swimming, I saw Ekke calling to me, pointing, wondering what he had seen. There was a dark shape swimming a bit further out. Cue the 'Jaws' soundtrack, again. But alas, it turned out to be a big sea turtle, and I breathed a sigh of relief that it was not a shark. That evening, we enjoyed a farewell cocktail, and the winners of the photo contest were announced - Ekke won a prize, a Galápagos Legend barbecue apron, for his fantastic photo of a blue-footed booby.

Sure they look peaceful, just don't make any sudden moves

 
Ekke looking out toward Kicker Rock while keeping an eye open for sea turtles

 
The award winning photo

 

In the morning, the ship cruised to Puerto Baquerizo Moreno, where we disembarked one last time. A lovely air-conditioned bus waited in town for us and whisked us to the San Cristobal giant tortoise breeding centre. It was our third tortoise experience, but one can never get enough of spending time with the giant beasts. It was great to get information about them from our naturalist guide versus the Spanish-speaking taxi driver back on Santa Cruz. She told us all about how they tried breeding tortoises here, but it was too humid to be successful. So, they tried incubating young turtles and then carefully monitored them for a few years before reintroducing them into the wild. This will ensure the continuation of this once nearly extinct species. The best part of this trip was that we finally got to see the baby tortoises, so cute in their little enclosures. Each one had a number painted on its back so they could be easily identified for future studies.

Disembarking for the last time

 
A dolphin accompanies us toward our final destination

 
The harbour at Puerto Baquerizo Moreno

 
Young tortoises are raised at the San Cristobal breeding centre

 
And released back into the wild

 

Back in town, we had some time to eat lunch and shop for souvenirs, but chose, instead, to go up to Cerro Las Tijeretas, an information centre that we had read about in Lonely Planet. Not being on our official cruise itinerary, we felt a bit deviant going there, but Marcella said that a taxi would only take a few minutes and we could be back in time to get the bus to the airport. Sateesh and Meera decided to join us. The centre was beautiful, with boardwalks and bridges, and we looked at informative displays of the human impact and conservation efforts on the islands.

The Cerro Las Tijeretas information centre had a great view of the harbour

 

We did make it back in time for the bus to the airport, boarded the flight to Quito, and reflected on what an amazing Galápagos trip we had, a dream come true. As we flew toward Quito, we saw Cotopaxi Volcano, and wondered what new adventures awaited us.

Cotopaxi as our flight back to Quito passed through The Avenue of Volcanoes

 


Map of our ride from Colombia to Quito  

Chapter 3: Central Ecuador

Ekke Writes:

Parque Carolina near our apartment


The park is enormous with everything from paddleboats to soccer pitches


Even a botanical garden in the park


And of course excercise equipment


Artwork by Oswaldo Guayasamin


And his obvious inspiration of Quito from Bellavista

Leaving Quito by the bypass road was easy


Arriving at Hacienda de Cienega


The beautiful central courtyard at the hacienda

Leaving Hacienda de Cienega


We start to think that maybe we're not on the main Quilotoa Loop road

The road gets rougher and rougher

The local welcoming committee isn't that friendly

Ekke wonders where the road is taking us


Back on pavement but still need to pay attention

Purchasing a lovely painting in Tigua


Paying the entrance fee to enter Quilotoa


The Hostal Chukiwara is a little less luxurious than last night's Hacienda de Cienega


The Lago Quilotoa inside the caldera is 300 metres below the rim


Still looking fresh after the hike down to the lake


One of the donkey wranglers (love the heels)


Audrey trudges back up

Wow, farmer's fields at 3,800 metres.  Not what we thought of when we thought of the Andes.


Choking dust in construction zone between Chucchilan and Sigchos


Time for a break in the central plaza of Sigchos


The most amazing ride coming down from Sigchos.  Let's do that again!


Hosteria Papagayo was warm and inviting after a chilly night on Quilotoa


Puppies!

Myriam, Gilbert and Jürg from Zurich posing with a llama at Hosteria Papagayo


The cobblestone road on the way to The Secret Garden hostel was mostly OK


Though the cobblestones at "Chocolate Corner" were very challenging to get through without dropping the bike


The access road up to The Secret Garden was one car wide.  Millimetres to spare.


Our cabin at The Secret Garden


Right away go for a hike (no rubber boots in size 47 so Ekke wears his motorcycle boots)


There were a couple of challenging sections on the hike up to the falls




We spotted a hummingbird in the woods.  The highest flying hummingbird species in the world.


The view of Cotopaxi from our cabin

With the superzoom camera you can make out the road and trail to the refuge on Cotopaxi for the mountain bikers

The mountain bikers head up


The refuge seems so close...




A snack break at the refuge


The mountain bikers and Cotopaxi


Audrey on her horse, "Let's ride!"


Spectacular views from horseback


Audrey nicknames her horse "Thirsty" as it stops at even the smallest water source


Snack time


Petting the horses after a great ride


These guys hard at work repairing the cobblestone road make us optimistic about the ride out


Cotopaxi by night

Starting the hike up Pasochoa


A few hours climbing through various climatic zones


At the 4,220 metre summit of Pasochoa



 
This little dachshund accompanies the hikers up to Pasochoa every single time

Packing up at The Secret Garden


The ride down the access road


Leaving the hostel


Audrey is happy to have made it!


A roadside restaurant appears just as we think about putting on the raingear


The most delicious trout for lunch


Arriving at Termas de Papallacta


Hotpools right outside our cabin

Riding along the Rio Papallacta, dropping in elevation


Quite a few landslides (perhaps aided by the recent earthquake?)


Many waterfalls along the Rio Papallacta as we descend to the rainforest


A new dam on the Rio Coca threatens the Cascada San Rafael


Lots of interesting wildlife on the walk down to the falls


We thought we had discovered a new species of insect
{C}

Cascada San Rafael on the Rio Coca are the largest falls in Ecuador


The Platinum Class Hotel sticks out like a sore thumb in Lago Agrio

Riding south in the rainforest of the Amazon Basin towards Coca


The courtyard of the Hotel El Auca


Already we're seeing wildlife before we even depart on our river cruise


Map of our ride through Ecuador  

Chapter 4: Ecuadorian Rainforest and Beyond

Audrey writes:

A boat trip through the Ecuadorian rainforest awaited us, and we sat on the dock in anticipation at La Mission Hotel in Coca. An hour and a half later, several other guests arrived from Quito on a delayed flight, which included two couples from New Zealand (one couple had a daughter who had just bicycled in the Olympics), an Ecuadorian mother and son (on vacation), and Roberto (a former ship captain would be teaching the staff safety procedures). Our luggage was loaded onto a motorized canoe and removable wooden seat backs were slotted in as we boarded. The 2 hour ride on the Napo River, a tributary of the Amazon, to meet with our boat, The Manatee, went quickly. There was evidence of oil companies along the banks with big trucks, equipment and staff housing, but this seemed to lessen as we moved further downriver. After disembarking, Gian Carlo, the manager, and his staff greeted us with hot towels and hors d'oeuvres. We enjoyed a lunch of ceviche or fish in sauce with salty plantain chips, and every meal included something traditionally Ecuadorian. A self-guided tour of the boat's three decks was next, and there were a few guest cabins, a dining room and deck chairs. Our journey downriver was very pleasant, cruising by indigenous dwellings consisting of a small shacks made of logs and ferns. Friendly locals waved to us as they travelled in motorized canoes and we did see a few paddling around in dugout canoes as well. Our guide, Raoul, pointed out several bird species, including some osprey, which can migrate from Canada. A flock of parrots flew by and he told us that they were going home to roost as the sun was going down. They looked like dots in the sky to us, so we would have to take his word for it that they were parrots. Later, he gave us an informative talk in the lounge regarding the wildlife we might see and what to wear and bring on our excursions. That night the boat docked beside the tree-lined shore, and we all donned rubber boots. Unfortunately for Ekke, they did not have size 13, so he just wore his hiking shoes, tucked his pants into his socks, and applied plenty of bug repellant to his ankles. Our motorized canoe took us to a beach where we disembarked for a night hike. All the creepy crawlers were out at this time, and we wandered through the rainforest in search of them. Raoul knew where to look for huge spiders, millipedes, grasshoppers and stick insects. Ekke's shoes were caked with mud, but after setting them outside the door of our cabin, they were cleaned and returned by the next morning.

Motorized canoe ready to take us downstream to the Manatee


Our first view of our home for the next four days: The Manatee


The Rio Napo is a working river as it is used to get things to the impenetrable jungle


Laundry day


A Kichwa village along the Napo


Our first night hike to find creepy-crawlies nets our first big spider


Yes, there is an insect hiding in this photo


What the heck is that?

Riding in the canoe on the shoreline of a small, slow-moving tributary of the Napo made spotting wildlife easier than being in the forest itself because it was so open. Chugging along quietly with thick, lush rainforest on both sides felt like the Jungle Cruise at Disneyland - magical. The tarp that covered the canoe was pulled back, and we basked in the bright sunshine, listening to the continuous sounds of wildlife of the rainforest. Enormous blue and yellow butterflies fluttered by, and we caught a glimpse of several bird species. On the underside of a branch sticking out of the water there was something unusual - several small bumps. Raoul said they were bats, curled up and asleep during the day, camouflaged by the log. A turtle dove out of sight as the boat approached, and Raoul spotted macaws high in a tree. Vines hung down over the slow-moving river and we floated by colourful flowering trees and bushes. It was quite surreal.

Weaver nests


It was much more difficult taking photos of birds in the jungle than in the Galapagos


Raoul had the ability to identify a speck in the distance as a specific bird


We could almost be on the Jungle Cruise at Disneyland


Look closely, see the bats under the log on the right?


A closeup of the bats

At the end of a lagoon, Pinachoa or Piraña Lake, we disembarked at the Amazon Dolphin Lodge. We were greeted by a line of hundreds of leaf cutter ants walking on the ground, in formation, with their booty. Up in the tree we watched as they chewed off tiny leaf and blossom parts and carried them back down the tree to take to their underground nest. In our rubber boots (Ekke in hiking shoes with socks tucked in) we then trudged through the damp rainforest, our guide pointing out various tree and plant species, and lots of insects. Birds were almost impossible to spot here, in the thick rainforest, but we heard plenty of bird calls. Back at the lodge, Raoul invited us to go swimming in the lagoon, where people often came to fish for piraña. Swimming with piraña had never been on my 'To Do' list, but, what the heck. We were here. The evening before, he had shown us a photo from the Hollywood movie, Piraña, saying that it was a misconception that the toothed fish attacked people. They used their sharp little teeth to nosh on fruit that fell from overhanging trees. So, therefore, we could swim in Piraña Lake, if we felt brave enough. After watching Raoul swim around a bit, and not get attacked by pirañas, Ekke and I felt more comfortable about taking a dip as well. The water was really warm on top, and cool down below, and it felt great on the hot day. It was very murky with silt, so we did not see anything swimming around, which was a good thing. Raoul warned us not to touch the bottom, which was two metres below, because there might be anacondas lurking below and Ekke, being 193 centimetres tall, did his best to stay afloat. Roberto, who was always entertaining us in some way, posed on the dock, then dove off the edge. In the spirit of the Rio Olympics, Ekke gave him an '8' from the Canadian judge.

Entering Lago Pinachoa


Leaf cutter ants hard at work






A jungle hike


Raoul spots a tiny little frog


While this frog is much bigger it was just as difficult to spot


Raoul was an amazing guide




Ekke thinks about bringing his own rubber boots as his ankles get eaten by the local flora and fauna


Audrey takes a refreshing dip in Piraña Lake while Roberto waits to show off his Olympic diving skills


Ekke keeps his feet well off the lake bottom where anacondas might be lurking while not attracting the attention of the Pirañas

After lunch in the lodge, the motorized canoe took us back up the creek and Raoul instructed the driver to stop. There was loud howling in the trees, and we looked up high. Monkeys! A troop of Howler monkeys were swinging through the trees, probably about 20 metres away, and we just sat and enjoyed the lively scene as they made their way across the high canopy. Further along, the wind started coming up and within minutes torrential rain was upon us. We helped reattach the tarp, and then donned rain ponchos. Leaves and branches were falling from the trees and splashing in the water, and we ducked for cover as the boat scraped along one big fallen tree in an attempt to squeeze past it. The torrential rain ended about a half-hour later. Roberto needed a bush bathroom break, so we docked at an open area on the bank to let him out of the boat. While he was gone, Raoul regaled us with a tale about how he had taken a group of hikers on this very path, and had come across an anaconda, its belly full, digesting some sort of prey. He said that the huge snakes were often found at the bottom of slow moving rivers, and lagoons, just like the one we swam in. We pondered that we had swam in the same water as anaconda, the second largest snake in the world by mass. Roberto made it back safely, and the canoe chugged down the river, back to the Manatee.

Lunch at the Dolphin Lodge


Ah, that's why it's called a "Rain Forest"


Glorious sunset on the Napo River

Raoul was talented at spotting wildlife in the distance, from the canoe. He would watch for a bit of movement and next thing you know he was pointing out a troop of spider monkeys or tamarinds climbing and leaping from branch to branch. Birds were spotted when they were flying, but it was difficult to get photos of them when they moved so quickly. So, unlike the Galápagos, where you were pretty much tripping over animals at every turn, animals in the Amazon were very difficult to spot. But it was also very satisfying when you did see something or get a photo. One possibility of seeing birds up close came the next day. A 6:00 AM wake-up call on August 21st was a bit of a shocker, and we piled into the motorized canoe before breakfast to go see a clay lick. Some parrot and parakeet species need clay in their diet to combat the toxicity of plants or to get their salt fix, so, they lick clay. And yes, they have tongues. The lick was basically an older landslide on the steep bank of the river, exposing the clay underneath. It was a bit disappointing to see no birds there when we arrived. Some park wardens came by in their own canoe to check our permits, and chatted with Raoul. They said that the birds had moved licks and could be spotted upriver. And sure enough, on another piece of exposed clay, to our delight, we could see some movement. I looked through Rahul's binoculars and there they were - several small, green parakeets gathered together on the side of the cliff. A couple of big, green and red parrots came to join them, and there was a bit of a skirmish for the prime clay real estate, with a lot of squawking and pecking. We sat in the boat and enjoyed the lively scene for about 15 minutes, when suddenly the birds made a big ruckus, flapped their wings and flew off. A tiny hawk (that's the name of the species) had tried to grab one of the birds and scared them all away. We felt badly for all the other tourists from surrounding lodges that came immediately after us and missed the birds at the clay lick. The birds did not come back.

Parakeets on the clay lick


And then the parrots came


Parrots and few brave parakeets enjoying the clay lick before a tiny hawk chased them all off


We watched a troop of monkeys progress through the forest canopy


A sandstorm in the rain forest?  Yes, the wind whipped up the sandbars in the river.


Woo hoo!

Breakfast always included huevos (eggs), and there was kiwi fruit for the New Zealanders and pancakes with maple syrup for us Canadians. We took the canoe to visit a Kichwa tribe, indigenous to the Lower Napo River region. Elena, one of the locals, greeted us with a cup of Chicha, or yuca plant mashed up and fermented. Women chewed the yuca to release the juices, boiled it and tribe members drank it several times a day and for ceremonial purposes. Elena showed us the local school, a brick building with three classrooms housing grades 1-8. The current government used money from oil revenues to build schools for the indigenous people, and children learned in both Spanish and Kichwa. On a hike through the lush rainforest, she showed us some plants and their uses, such as palm fronds for roofing houses or weaving mats. Us ladies got to try a bit of the weaving, and she handed the men a loaded blow gun. She put a bit of cotton fluff on a dart made of a small reed, stuffed it in the end of the hollow pole, and showed us how to puff into it to make it fly. I did not want to pass up this rare opportunity as well, not knowing when I would ever have the chance to shoot a blow gun. I was surprised at the way the dart flew quite far with very little blowing.  (Nice that Audrey didn’t mention my feeble blow dart which landed a few metres beyond the end of the barrel – Ekke) Back at the shelter, some catfish and hearts of palm were being cooked in banana leaves over the fire, and we got to sample them. Well, except for one treat, some skewered larvae. Roberto had picked up the skewer off the fire and proceeded to put all the larvae in his mouth, as a joke. So, no larvae for us. But, I was not too disappointed.

Audrey tries the welcome drink of Chicha (mashed, fermented yuca plant)


Local handicrafts for sale


Elena shows us how the Kichwa use everything in the forest


A local Kichwa school




Audrey rings the teacher bell and thinks about becoming a teacher here


And then sees the teacher housing where the teachers live for the school year


Toucans near the village


Raoul shows us how to make the poison dart tip


Elena demonstrates the proper use of a blow gun


Audrey has a magnificent shot (let's not show Ekke's pathetic attempt)


Hey, I'm just going to pop outside for a snack...


A sampler of indigenous foods (minus the much-anticipated skewered larvae which Roberto ate)

The Manatee chugged back upriver in the afternoon, and after a lunch of shrimp tamales and cheesy potato cakes, we took the canoe to Yasuni National Park. The muddy, slippery hike in was very interesting, but again, we heard more wildlife than we saw. From a more open area we watched spider monkeys swinging through the trees wrapping their tails around branches for support. Life-like animal statues representing the wildlife on the Napo River were displayed at the centre, and Raoul explained that anaconda, to the Kichwa, was their 'mother' because it represented water and therefore, life. Night had fallen on our return hike, so we saw many more interesting creatures including several well-camouflaged frogs and a tarantula. I was very glad to be wearing rubber boots (and Ekke was envious as he kept scratching his ankles).

A parakeet peeks out from a tree


A group photo after the hike through Yasuni Park


The return hike was in the dark with an opportunity for more creepy-crawly observation





 
Without a super zoom lens there wouldn't be a lot of pictures from the boat tour

The motorized canoe took us back to Coca on August 22nd, and we said goodbye to our shipmates at the dock. Our room at the Auca Hotel awaited us, and Ekke Skyped his mother for her birthday. She had received our package from Ecuador containing a silver necklace with traditional designs, and Ekke's dad had received his llama wool sweater. We showed them the lovely hotel courtyard garden with the iPad. Technology is so amazing. At breakfast the next day, Ekke pointed something out as I returned from the buffet – a monkey was sitting on the window ledge and he had just shooed it off his chair. It was trying to steal his toast.

Hey, get away from my toast!


A less aggressive breakfast visitor

With the sun shining brightly, we set off to ride the 170 kilometres to Tena. Although it was very hot, 30 C, the airflow cooled us down when we rode at 100 kilometres per hour. At a gas station, there was a welcome sight – a car wash. And people there ready to wash our bikes. For $3.00 each, they sprayed them down, soaped, rinsed and dried them, the mud from Colombia finally going down the drain. Their young children brought us chairs, and we felt a little guilty, watching others work, but contributing to the local economy is always appreciated. The town of Tena was back down in the river valley, so it was, again, very hot as we walked around in search of batidos, or fruit milkshakes, to cool us down - the mango treats tasted delicious. The town featured a huge mirador, a viewing platform where we could look over the town and rainforest canopy and into Parque Amazonas. The wildlife park was closed because they were building a chocolate museum on the site, which was disappointing, but it would give us a good reason to return. So, we spent the afternoon cooling off at the hotel swimming pool. The owner was very excited to see our motorcycles and he showed off his own BMW R1200 GS. Later, he gave us a ride into town in his van where we enjoyed dinner at Café Tortuga, featuring fried yuca, a sort of tuber-like vegetable. Delicious.

The bikes hadn't been washed since Canada


Audrey considers it $3 well spent


Great roads through the rain forest


A roadside restaurant.  We just asked for the same thing as truck drivers were having (chicken and rice).


Observation tower in Tena

Leaving the hot, humid Amazon basin and riding into the cool hills was a welcome respite. Waterfalls or cascadas in Spanish, tumbled down from volcanic cliffs above on both sides of the highway. The road was a motorcyclist’s playground, twisting and turning on good pavement with gorgeous scenery all around, with a few rock-hewn tunnels thrown in to add interest. The town of Baños was located at the foot of a live volcano, Tungurahua, which last erupted earlier this year. But our Lonely Planet guidebook assured us that volcanic activity was closely monitored and that ample warning would be provided if an evacuation was imminent. From the hotel balcony we could see plumes of smoke rising up from surrounding hills and the rushing white water of the Pastaza River winding its way through the deep valley below. The walk into town was welcome exercise, and having arrived early in the afternoon allowed us time to peruse the shopping area and lovely central square. It was tourist central, with hostels, adventure tours, hot springs pools and cane-sugar taffy shops everywhere. We chose Café Hood owned by an expat American for some familiar food, which a long-term traveller needs every now and again, and the apple pie did not disappoint.

Passing the slow moving trucks is always fun


Our room in Baños had a wonderful view of the river




Hot springs, waterfalls and rivers like the Pastaza river give Baños de Auga Santa (Baths of Sacred Waters) its name


The nicest Datsun pickup truck in the world?

A twisty road up and out of the valley the next morning, August 25th, afforded great views of the volcano. We dodged small piles of rocks on the road, mini-landslides which sometimes were so recent that the dust had not yet settled. Another good reason to wear a helmet. We weren’t sure if the rockslides happened all the time or if they were a result of the recent earthquake near Quito, but there were a lot of them. Our route took us past the Chimborazo volcano, famous for being the highest point on earth due to the earth’s bulge at the equator. The mountain peak is technically farther from the centre of the earth and closer to the sun than Everest. Neat. The 160 kilometres to Alausi went very quickly, a quaint town with plenty of locals in traditional dress. It is also known as the beginning of the Nariz del Diablo train journey through the Andes. On the ride to Cuenca the next day Ekke spotted the train tracks on the side of a cliff where the train switches back on another track, all very interesting. More enjoyable riding awaited us as we rode up and down hillsides on the curvy highways but we felt chilly as the temperature dropped to 11 C as the road climbed higher.

Volcan Tungurahua overlooking Baños in the valley


Chimborazo hiding in the clouds is the highest point on earth as measured from the centre of the earth


Safety maybe not a top priority?


Ekke has some fun when we arrive in Alausi


Alausi is a stop on the Nariz del Diablo


The train ride sounds like it would be pretty neat


Street vendor making fresh plantain chips


Yummy

In a small town we rode around the square and spotted a tiny café. There was no menu so we used the Spanish words in our repertoire to order queso jamon tostado or cheese and ham on toast. Our table was on a sidewalk overlooking a square, and Ekke excitedly pointed something out to me on the street. It was a small air-cooled motorcycle with French licence plates. This was an exciting moment as it was the first motorcycle world travellers we had seen on the trip. They parked and we waved them over, and they generously spoke English when they realized that we could not speak French or Spanish. It turns out they had flown to Bogota on July 7th, a day before we had arrived in Colombia. They said they were on their way to the Ingapirca Inca ruins, a ten kilometre detour off the highway. This archaeological site had not really been on our radar as we knew we would be seeing the big Inca ruins in Peru, but we decided to ride up with them. The site was lovely, and we toured a museum which featured artefacts like jewellery and religious statues found at the site. Our guide showed us dwellings and storehouses as this had been an important supply stop on the Inca highway. The Sun Temple was fairly intact, the impressive stone cut so precisely that it did not need mortar to stick together, and it was designed to reflect the sunlight off golden symbols on the wall during the solstices. It was getting late, so we said goodbye to our new French friends, Baptiste and Elsa, and continued our ride south.

Ekke prepares to leave the Europa Hotel in Alausi


But didn't get far as the hotel wanted us to pose for an Ecuador promo photo first


A switchback on the Devil's Train


What looks like valley fog is actually clouds with the valley hundreds of metres below


Pulling into Tambo for lunch


We met Baptiste and Elsa at the Coffee Shop just as we ordered sandwiches


And they asked if we were going to visit the nearby Inca ruins


A great little museum adjacent to the site had this happy little urn on display


Display of indigenous people in traditional dress in the museum


Recreation of an Inca home


Wow, how could those stones be made to fit so perfectly?


And they used only stone tools


Saying goodbye to Baptiste and Elsa


Sure it's possible to ride around South America two-up on an old 400 cc Honda


Getting passed by a local rider on an R1200RT on the way to Cuenca

Cuenca was somewhat busy to ride into at rush hour, but it did not have the big city feel of Quito. This was a smaller, quainter city with a well-preserved old town, where our hotel was located. Ekke found Hotel Santa Lucia, a historic Spanish colonial brick structure and we parked on the street in front. A valet escorted us to a secure parking area a block up the street. A posh courtyard awaited us in the hotel, with palm trees, white table cloths and wrought iron railings. This was no Super 8. It was a splurge, but we really wanted to be downtown and we really wanted to have a nice base from which to explore Cuenca. We had booked their cheapest room at $100 a night, with a simple double bed and very little decoration. At the front desk, to our delight, the desk clerk said that he wanted to upgrade our room for the same price since we were staying for four days and he wanted us to be comfortable. Okay, bring it on. We opened the door to our junior suite and were blown away with the extravagant digs, all dark wood, golden draperies and richly upholstered furniture. We felt very fortunate. A pizza place across the street provided a delicious dinner, and coincidentally, they also served delicious gelato.

Ekke checks out some graffiti on the way into Cuenca


The courtyard of the Hotel Santa Lucia


The upgraded Junior Suite was spectacular


A chocolate left after the beds were turned down

Breakfast of Huevos Benedictos (eggs Benedict) and other delights was provided in the cute hotel cafe, on August 27th. Walking around the historical area was fantastic, and right on the Parque Calderon we visited Catedral de la Inmaculada Concepcione. A tour of the crypt was in Spanish and I did often wonder what the "Oohs" and "Ahs" were about when a certain tomb was pointed out to our fellow tourists. The reason for taking the tour was so we could get escorted up to the rooftop balcony for a view of Cuenca. A spiral staircase wound up the stone structure and views across the top of the cathedral and surrounding old town were spectacular. The square was a real people place, and families were out perusing the market stalls and listening to a traditional military brass band. Another cathedral on the square, El Sagrario, built in 1557, had been converted to a museum and had a real Spanish adobe look to it. The frescoes or wall murals displaying religious scenes had been discovered during the renovation process, hidden under a few coats of old paint. A river pathway along Rio Tomebamba was very pleasant to walk along in the bright sunshine, and it took us to some remnants of an old Inca settlement. On our walk back we discovered Goza Restaurant and enjoyed some nachos on their patio, while watching a wedding party assemble for their service in the church on the square. Small children in their wedding attire were too cute.

Iglesia de San Alfonso just down the street from the hotel


Catedral de la Inmaculada Concepción off the main plaza


Catedral de la Inmaculada Concepción


The nicest crypt we've ever toured (we had to in order to get to the rooftop viewing platform)


The view of Cuenca from the top of Catedral de la Inmaculada Concepción is spectacular




Church displays tend to be a bit more graphic in Latin America


Coming back from the flower market

That evening we Skyped in to the Horizons Unlimited motorcycle world travellers' meeting in Nakusp, from our hotel. We had done something similar from Lake Baikal in Russia on our 2013 trip. The internet connection kept cutting out this time, so it was a bit frustrating, but we did get to share some of our stories with the group of 300 motorcycle world travel enthusiasts, many of whom had travelled to South America or were planning to do so.  Here is the link to the 2017 event, hope to see you there!  www.horizonsunlimited.com

It was great to have a relaxing breakfast the next day, and take the time to catch up on errands. I found a shopping centre, Monay Mall, a $2.00 taxi ride away. Ekke worked on the bikes in the secure parking lot, such as lubing the F650 chain, checking tire pressures and stabilizing his horn which had come loose from bumpy roads. When he went to open the gate to leave, it was locked. He couldn't leave. The valet from the hotel had let him in, but there was no way of opening the door to let himself out. He tried his phone, but the iRoam card didn't work. So he went to the security camera and started waving and jumping up and down. No one came. So he started punching in random numbers into the security keypad. In a couple of minutes the valet came and opened the door. Phew.

We found a little museum the next day, the Cuenca Museo de las Culturas Aborigenes, and we thought we'd drop by for a quick look. It was chock-a-block with 5000 artefacts, and Ekke and I took turns reading information aloud about the displays from an English brochure which explained what was in each room. It was very interesting to see artefacts from areas that we had visited such as the Amazon or the high Andes, including chimes, mortar and pestles, star weapons, love sculptures, and pottery from the indigenous people of the Napo. It was a lovely evening, so we had a walk around the softly lit old town to the central square, which was very busy with people just strolling, enjoying each other's company and people-watching. With so many locals around, it felt very safe, even though it got dark at 6:00 PM, and it looked like people enjoyed this strolling thing regularly, a great alternative to staying home and watching TV. It reminded me of Europe.

So cool to see people in traditional dress


Ekke reads from the self-guided tour of Cuenca Museo de las Culturas Aborigenes


That doesn't look like it would have been fun to get put in


Painting from the time of the Spanish


Ekke is always a big fan of pottery


What a lovely city Cuenca was to wander around

As we had not seen the national archaeological museum in Quito because it was closed for renovations, I really wanted to visit the one in Cuenca, the Museo Pumapungo, which, unfortunately, was closed on Monday. So on the morning of our departure, Tuesday, August 30th, we walked the 20 minutes in the brisk morning air to the free museum and spent an hour perusing the dioramas that displayed scenes of daily life of the indigenous tribes of Ecuador. The blowgun and darts that we had tried with the Napo people was there, and we recognized their distinctive wooden and palm-frond topped huts. Spiritual artefacts were also on display, and one highlight was the shrunken heads. I thought they were replicas, but the information panels said they were the real thing. Shura people of the Amazon used the practice to harness the spirit of the enemy. They were slightly macabre, yet fascinating at the same time.

Museo Pumapungo had some great dioramas of indigenous peoples throughout Ecuador




A photo of a headhunter


This is a real shrunken head, not a replica

Leaving such a beautiful city and hotel was a bit difficult, but we got on the road around 11:00 AM to ride the 170 kilometres to Machala. The road took us south at first, on a paved road and when it turned west it deteriorated to rough pavement, gravel and dust. Potholes were difficult to avoid, and we stood up on the foot pegs to stabilize the bikes. The terrain was very desert-like, dry, rugged hills with no vegetation, and little evidence of human habitation. We turned a corner, and terrain became very lush and green with a lot of little towns. Closer to Machala, we rode by kilometres of banana plantations, the bananas covered with plastic bags to keep the humidity in and protect them from insects and pesticides. At the Grand Hotel Americano, I waited with the bikes while Ekke checked in. Across the street a young woman was set up with a loudspeaker in front of a drug store, announcing a big sale or something. She spoke a stream of quick Spanish for at least ten minutes, with barely a pause, played some loud music for a minute, and then went back to her spiel. I was entertained to say the least. A fellow came from nowhere and took the luggage from the bikes, and I really hoped he was an employee of the hotel. I was quite relieved when he actually carried the bags into the hotel. Ekke came out with a desk clerk, who needed to show us where parking was, so we sat her on the back of his bike and rode to the fenced lot. Machala had a nice town square, but not much else to recommend it except for the upcoming banana festival, which we would just miss. But, it was real life, and not touristy Ecuador, which made it interesting in a different way.

The ride to the coast from Cuenca went through a few different climates, including this desert


And then a rain forest




Banana plantations surround the city of Machala


The main plaza in Machala, as in most Latin American cities we've seen, is a real people place


Map of our ride from Coca to Machala in Ecuador (dotted line is boat tour)  

Chapter 5: Disaster in Peru

Heading South - need to stop on the Ecuador side to get the bikes stamped out


Filling out the exit paperwork to leave Ecuador


Entering Peru


Heading south along the coast of Peru


Arriving in Mancora


Stopping off at a bank machine in Mancora


Oh, this is nice...  Mancora Beaches hotel

Checking out the beach






Whoa, check out the whale!

Just before dinner we were in our room when we heard one of the motorcycle alarms go off.  Still in my flip-flops I walked around the side of the building to investigate but found nothing out of the ordinary.  Just as I turned around to go back to the room I stepped on a wet sidewalk block and my left foot slipped out from under me.  Trying to catch myself, my right leg was at an awkward angle when all my weight came down on it and I collapsed to the ground.  I saw that my right knee cap was not in its proper place, having moved up the thigh a few centimetres.  While it was painful at the time of the fall it didn’t hurt a lot afterwards.  I called for Audrey and she came out to find me sitting on the sidewalk holding my leg.  This looked awfully similar to the time I ruptured my patella tendon in Germany, nine years ago.  Rudy, the hotel manager tried to call an ambulance to take me to the medical clinic in town but the ambulance couldn’t be located.  A second ambulance was concerned about how they were going to get paid and didn’t want to come out.  Finally Rudy called a friend in the police who came over with a police pickup truck and after having spent an hour sitting on the sidewalk where I fell, I was unceremoniously loaded onto a backboard and then carried out to the pickup truck.  We waited for another few minutes as Audrey called our travel insurance company and let them know of the accident and then we drove back to town on the four kilometres of new pavement, Audrey sat up front while a couple of cops rode in the back making sure I didn’t slip out the back.  I suspect that overnight someone had installed a bunch of new speed bumps; I certainly didn’t remember that there were so many the day before.  In town we went to a clinic where a doctor had a quick look at the leg and straightened it out (no pain).  He declared that an X-ray was necessary but unfortunately there were no X-ray facilities in Mancora so an ambulance was called to transport me 80 kilometres south to Talara.  With me on a stretcher and Audrey sitting in a chair in back, the hour-long ride in the ambulance left us both feeling a bit car sick.  We arrived at the trauma centre but they didn’t want to deal with us so sent us next door to the “hospital”.  A doctor on the night shift called the X-Ray technician in and soon I had some good news, no bone damage.  The doctor said that a specialist would look at the knee in the morning and arranged for a room with two beds to be readied for us to spend the night.

Check out the knee cap on the right leg


A police pickup truck serves as an impromptu ambulance

The trauma centre: Clinica Tresa.  Clinica Torres is half a block to the left.

The staff at the Rio Verde haul Ekke up to the second floor


Five days on the second floor, watching the tuk-tuks go by


Yes, I recall that having ice cream and cake is good therapy

Three seats needed for the flight from Talara to Lima


Now that's service.  Being dropped off at Foothills Hospital.


Map of our short ride into Peru  

Chapter 6: Return to Peru

Ekke Writes

View from our downtown apartment in downtown Calgary


A walk in Fish Creek Provincial Park


A turbocharged (!) six-cylinder Honda CBX shows up at a Vintage and BMW club get together


A walk to the Peace Bridge


Visiting Redwood Meadows and going for a walk along the berm


Dropping off a poppy at the war memorial along Big Hill Springs Road (Ekke fits in the Miata!)

The bikes are safe but the covers are filthy and ripped.  Good thing we thought they would be and bought new covers at home.


Prepping the bikes to resume the journey


Audrey pumps up the tires

Leaving Tumbes we're planning to take a couple of weeks to get to Lima, stopping at each town on this sign


An important part of Ekke's rehabilitation program


Yummy breakfasts at Mancora Beaches


Audrey found a seahorse washed up on the shore

Leaving Mancora Beaches, just three months later than planned


Our fifth time along the road from Mancora to Talara


Arriving at Talara, home of an air force base


We stop off for lunch at the hotel where we stayed for a week three months ago


Checking in at the Los Portales in Piura, right on the main square


Raphael gets a ride on the bike to show us to the parkade


The town's main cathedral




Saying goodbye to Raphael

Riding through the Desertio de Sechura on the way to Chiclayo









200 kilometres across the desert before getting to a town


The Casa Andina in Chiclayo isn't an historic downtown hotel but it is clean and modern with a gym

Museo Tumbas Reales de Sipan in Lambayeque (no photos allowed inside)


A medicinal sundea back at the Casa Andina

Ekke chats with a curious traffic cop when leaving Chiclayo (foreshadowing)


Checking out Chiclayo's main plaza on the way out of town


Back to riding across the desert.  Stiff headwind and high twenties for temperature.


Hmmm, maybe I'll have goat for dinner tonight


Little shrines dot the sides of the highway in memory of those who lost their lives on the road


Cool, drifting sand.  Sort of like winter back home.

 
This, on the other hand, is nothing like back at home


We must still be quite a ways out from Trujillo, can't see it on the horizon

Audrey writes

Riding into the Plaza de Armas in Trujillo on Sunday, December 4th, 2016 was magical, the entire square lined with colourful colonial style buildings on all sides. When Ekke parked his desert yellow metallic BMW 1200 GS Adventure in front of the matching yellow cathedral, it was a perfect photo op. Across the street, the doorman at the Hotel Libertador was suitably surprised to see our motorcycles pull up in front of the hotel, and he was even more surprised that us two dusty travellers had reservations at the historic hotel. Because of our non-existent Spanish, we ended up in the wrong parking lot, twice, and I had to back the bike out on loose gravel, always a favourite with me. The hotel pool looked so inviting, but it was way colder than I could have imagined and we didn't stay in for very long.

Ekke checks out the cathedral in Trujillo


Checking in to the Libertador


View from our room in the Libertador

The haggling with a couple of taxi drivers parked in front of the hotel the next day, to take us out to some tombs, was interesting. Lonely Planet had said that it would cost 15 nuevo soles, (S) or about $6 to get out to the tombs and the drivers said they would do it for $25 or 70 S which included waiting for us while we were in the museum and then driving us to the archaeological site, and then driving us back to the hotel. It seemed like way too much, and I didn't want to get ripped off, so I was firm at 40 S ($16). After walking away, they didn't come after us to accept our price, so we just flagged down a taxi on the street, who wanted quince or 15 S ($6) to take us there. The car was in rough shape and the seatbelts didn't work, but we made it there intact. The Huaca del Sol or Temple of the Sun appeared in the distance, and it was once the tallest pyramid of its kind in Peru before the effects of El Nino weathered it badly. It has not yet been excavated.

The museum housed artefacts from the Moche people, and we recognized the exquisite painting on their distinctive pottery from 100 to 800 AD, the same as we had seen in Sípan. What I like about their pottery is that they not only paint spiritual scenes, but also everyday items such as corn, shellfish, weapons, and musical instruments like panpipes. What also really makes it unique is that the pottery is shaped like realistic-looking people and animals, or imaginatively, like their gods.

Arriving at the museum of the graves of the Moche (no photos allowed inside)


Interactive displays

While walking the 500 metres to the archaeological site from the museum, in the hot sun, I pondered that it would have been great to have that expensive air-conditioned taxi to drive us. But the Huaca de la Luna, or Temple of the Moon, was worth the hike up. Our guide, Elina, explained that the site used to look like any pile of sand in the desert, but the tombs were discovered in the 1990's when some archaeological students were walking on the sandy hill, sat down for a rest and noticed that some bricks had fallen loose, out of the sand, nearby. They dug a bit and saw the first painted friezes, and I can't imagine how exciting that must have been. The temple was built as an inverted pyramid inside a regular pyramid, with the first tomb at the bottom and layers of bricks and more tombs built over top in wider levels. Spanish conquistadors had robbed the upper tombs but the lower ones were discovered as still intact, with all their golden treasures. The same friezes appeared on each level, always of the Decapitator God. Archaeologists had given him the apt nickname because he was often depicted carrying a human head. Evidence of the rituals that were performed was found such as a pit containing 70 skeletons of warriors who had ceremoniously fought each other, the loser's body thrown into the pit to appease the gods. Down closer to the former city was a whole wall of friezes showing rows of spiders, dancers, and slaves and a beautiful mural chock-a-block with various symbols and paintings of ceremonial rituals. It's amazing that these painted walls have survived been buried in the sand for 1700 years. There were three areas being excavated by archeologists and their students when we were there, and new discoveries were made regularly when the funding was there to support it.

Audrey walking to the archeological site with the Temple of the Sun in the background


Our guide Elina at The Sacrifice Zone


Intact friezes


A tomb, reconstructed after being excavated


Bricks had family markings on them.  Just like Olympic Plaza in Calgary.


Amazing that these painted friezes survived 1700 years


Remnants of the town between the two pyramids


Excavation continues when funding becomes available


A huge wall of friezes below the high altar


Victorious warriors

Elina showed us a beautiful cactus plant, the San Pedro, back at the entrance, which was interesting because it was blooming, and she said that it only bloomed two days of the year. The juice of the cactus was used in ceremonies as it has hallucinogenic properties. A Peruvian Hairless Dog trotted over while we sat in the shade, begging for our chips. These dogs were kept as pets by the Moche people in ancient times and are still bred today, and it really had no hair at all. I've never seen anything like it before.

The San Pedro cactus only blooms for a day or two


The Peruvian hairless dog.

Taxis were waiting to take people back to town, but it turned out they were all spoken for by people who had paid to have them wait. So we thought it would be interesting to have the cultural experience of taking a combi back into town. After paying 1 1/2 S each (60 cents) we climbed into the 9-seater van, happy to be the only passengers. But the combi driver stopped every hundred metres and the horn was beeped to indicate that they had room for more passengers. A scooper, as we nicknamed him, would stand in the door of the van and wave people over and try to convince them that this van was going their way. He also collected money. By the end of the journey that van had 19 people in it, young and old, with whole families piling in. A makeshift bench had been installed in front of our seats, so we were quite squished in there. They didn't drop us off as close to the Plaza de Armas as we had hoped so we got out at a busy weekday street market, about a kilometre from the centre. It turned into another interesting cultural experience with stands displaying colourful fruits, veggies, spices and beans. Live birds squawked in their cages, and guinea pigs huddled in theirs, looking quite cute and vulnerable. They were not sold as pets but as food.

Audrey enjoys the live animal market


A walk down the pedestrian mall

Every valley with a river winding through it, down the Peruvian north coast, has some evidence of Pre-Colombian settlements, and Chan Chan near Trujillo was once the biggest. A 10 S ($4) taxi ride to the site seemed reasonable and this time we asked the driver to return at noon to take us back to the city - once was enough for the combi van experience of the previous day. Chan Chan (which means Sun Sun, said twice because the sun god was so important) once had a population of 40 000 people and was an important spiritual centre for the Chimu people. The civilization was ruled by a king, and when he died, a new palace was built so the first son could take over as the new ruler. Our guide Eduardo emphasized that not all of these civilizations were patriarchal as there was evidence of a matriarchal society near what is now Piura. Chan Chan was huge, and only one palace was excavated. Rhomboid-shaped fencing made of adobe bricks and clay represented fishing nets, an industry of huge importance for the Chimu, was everywhere. Sculpted friezes showed animals that were important to the Chimu, like squirrels, which is great because I don't think squirrels get enough credit. Also of importance were fish, which were sculpted pointing in different directions based on the time of year and the tides, kind of like an early calendar. An area of several offices were for the tax collectors, paying taxes being something that was inevitable even in the 10th century and ancient storage bins had contained dried fish and produce, until the Inca came and conquered the Chimu, pilfering all the goods.

Eduardo points out the main square


Squirrel murals


A calendar showing the tides and the months


The tax offices




Reservoir for the palace

Eduardo showed us the tomb of the king, who was found buried with his main wife, concubines, a few slaves and llamas. When a king died he needed people to accompany him, after all, so being associated with the king was not necessarily a good thing. I asked Eduardo how they were sacrificed. He explained that the members of the household were given a hallucinogenic from the San Pedro cactus, and while they were 'out of it' gently had their throats slit so they could go with the king into the afterlife. Not even praying to the powerful squirrel gods could save them.

The king's tomb

Back at the entrance we waited for our taxi driver to show up, but he never did. It's a good thing there were other taxi drivers waiting, but they wanted 5 more soles than what we paid on the way out. There was nothing for it but to walk back into town, or pay it, so we paid it.

Since it was Sinterklaas (St Nicholas holiday) on the Dutch calendar, December 6th, we found the Van Gogh Cafe for supper. What a lovely treat as they had the pannakoeke of our dreams, starting with avocado and cheese and finishing with chocolate banana and apple cinnamon. The owner, an expat from The Netherlands, was excited that Ekke could speak Dutch.

Plaza de Armas


Sinterklaas dinner at The Van Gogh Cafe




 
Inside the cathedral that we have so many exterior shots of


The scaffolding is finally down from the book fair in the square

To keep riding days fairly short so as to not irritate Ekke's healing knee, we rode to Chimbote, about 140 kilometres away. As Ekke could not yet stand up on the bike's footpegs, we also avoided off-pavement riding - we would have to go into the Cordilleras on the return trip when the knee was 100%. About 25 kilometres outside of Trujillo, we had our first brush with the law. Barriers were set up on the highway, directing us to ride through a sort of compound with official-looking buildings and Paré or Stop signs everywhere. No one came out or had us stop, so we just rode through and then back out onto the 4-lane divided highway, accelerating as we passed a slow-moving tractor-trailer. A motorcycle police officer stepped out onto the road and waved us over. Oh, that sinking feeling set in. Here we go. He said many things in Spanish. He asked to see out documents. He said more things in Spanish. Even without knowing Spanish we knew that it was some sort of infraction. Since we were playing dumb as per the official motorcycle travellers rules to survive corrupt officials, the officer indicated to Ekke to walk back down the highway with him where he pointed to a sign which read, "No Adelantar". We could no longer play dumb as the sign also included a picture indicating a no-passing zone. Back at the bikes, the officer said something about dollars and nuevo soles so we knew he was asking us to pay a fine. Ekke pointed out several cars to him that had just passed other vehicles in the same no-passing zone, even cheekily waving some of them over himself, and the officer sent another officer after them on his motorbike, probably for our benefit. We argued as best we could, in English and with a lot of hand waving. So, he pulled out a little book that showed how much of a fine we needed to pay - 316 nuevo soles or $126! We started arguing vehemently in English saying we would only pay the soles at a police station in Trujillo, then about getting his badge number, then about how he's just targeting us because we were Canadian tourists - basically just talking to waste his time. And he must have known that we knew it was, obviously, a police trap as the highway was littered with old "No Passing" signs from the old highway. So then...he let us go! We got on the bikes and rode away, the officer smiling and waving happily as we sped by. Dodged that bullet.

Gassing up at the Repsol station the attendant looks a little like Mark Marques, the MotoGP World Champion (sponsored by Repsol)


Ekke happy that we didn't have to pay a roadside traffic fine

As we rode through the fishing town of Chimbote, the smell of fish overpowered us, so we were happy to have chosen the Maresta Hotel that was south and upwind of town. I was very happy to sip a complementary pisco sour that many hotels offered us as a welcome drink, especially after our stressful police encounter earlier in the day. But the room in the hotel wasn't great as the hotel staff had sprayed permethrin laced with cinnamon scent on the bedding, and it was overpowering, making it difficult to sleep. But better than bugs, I guess.

Riding through the desert to Chimbote


We had to look up the definition of "neblina" when we had internet: light fog

Plaza Vea, a big grocery store, looked like a good place to find a bank machine the next morning, but the machine rejected Ekke's CIBC card. He also tried it at several other different types of bank machines, with no luck. Good thing we had bank cards from different banks, and my BMO card worked. Ekke even tried calling his bank and they could see no problems with the card, saying it should work. Perhaps if we prayed to the squirrel gods, we would have better luck in Lima.

The ride was very dry and dusty, our bikes leaning over in the strong wind. We had occasional glimpses of the coastline and beautiful blue ocean beyond. I was amazed at the huge sand dunes, among the biggest we've seen but upon closer inspection it turns out they were rocky hills covered in sand, so technically were not dunes. Much of the highway was 4-lane divided, sometimes curving gently into the sandy hills, sometimes straight as an arrow, with the occasional small town or chicken ranch. Huacho was 270 kilometres away, our longest ride so far since our return to Peru, and it was actually quite easy, with very few towns to slow us down. While parked in front of Mary's Cafe in Barranca, a young man, Fidencio, came rushing out of the cafe, excited to see our bikes because he rode a Yamaha R1 sportbike back in San Diego. He was super excited about our trip and gave us his contact information in case we needed some help while in Peru. How nice. Inside the cafe, we were lured by the delicious looking cakes, so a couple of those ended up being our lunch, washed down with frothy cappuccinos. Another 45 kilometres up the road was Hotel Villa Kitzia Ecolodge, which was outside of town and the road shown on the GPS was closed. Another road was under construction, so we did get a bit of off-pavement riding in after all. When pulling up to a big gate, we just honked the horn, it was opened up, we drove in and parked right in front of our own little cabin. I'm not sure what the definition of 'ecolodge' is in Peru, but it seems anyone can just slap that name on anything nowadays, without any obvious reason, to lure in customers. We ordered tilapia for dinner and it was delicious - perhaps it was eco-friendly fish.

Dunes turned to mountains


Easy riding except for the wind


Time to flip the map to next section (why is Ekke carrying a bumper sticker for the Trekcetera Museum?)




 
We came unexpectedly across the Paramonga Fortress (of the Chimu people with their capital at Chan Chan) at the side of the Panamericana Norte


Fidencio gives us his contact information in case we need any help while in Peru


Our bungalow at the Hotel Villa Kitzia Ecolodge

Our hosts encouraged us to try some local fish sausage for breakfast the next morning, which tasted surprisingly delicious. It was very easy to pack up as our bikes were just outside our cabin door, and we got an early start, 9:30 AM. Okay, early for us. Our goal was to get to Lima where we could hole up for a week or so and continue Ekke's physio. I had made the mistake of reading warnings on the internet about parts of Lima that were quite dangerous, so I was slightly anxious about riding there. We put the Pacsafes, a sort of wire mesh security feature, over our duffel bags and attached my keys to the handlebars with a combination lock. Ekke found us a route, Highway 100, that avoided the busy centre of town and skirted around the airport along the waterfront. It took us through the industrial area by the docks, where people were just going about their daily business of earning an honest living. The road wound down to the waterfront, below rocky cliffs, and it was a lovely ride, with palm trees, beach umbrellas, people out enjoying the sunny day, surfing, sailing, cycling, parasailing, and eating ice-cream. Ekke spied a BMW R1200 GS coming up behind us, the rider slowing down to try to decipher our licence plates. He looked like a poster child for Touratech, a German motorcycle accessories company as he had their side cases, top cases, bags, crash bars and other fun stuff. He zoomed past, obviously enjoying the beautiful day, and he had a Peru licence plate, which was great to see as most bikes we've seen here have been Chinese 125 CC's. After some confusing road signage and consequently a couple of u-turns we wound our way up a valley between the cliffs, into the Miraflores district, and the Casa Andina Hotel, our home for the next week. Lima was awesome so far.

Audrey tries out an Inca Kola during a break before entering Lima


And how do you like it?


We avoid going through the middle of Lima and take the coastal road below instead

Map of our ride through Peru  

Chapter 7: Southern Peru, Part 1

Audrey writes

Riding into Lima, Peru on Friday, December 9th, 2016, was a bit chaotic at first, but like other cities, one tends to discover patterns in the way traffic moves and what other drivers do. A route that took us around the periphery of the city, along the coast, worked out very well. Lima has a high rate of accidents, but we found that traffic lights were mostly respected, and at uncontrolled intersections whoever nosed into the intersection first would have the 'right of way', and we had to be assertive to get through on the motorbikes. Taxis just tended to hit the gas, even in busy, congested areas, using other vehicles as traffic cones to slalom through, always trying to get ahead of others, and combis or minibuses would stop or pull out without warning or swerve suddenly to go around other vehicles, so a thumb always hovered over the horn of the motorbike. As pedestrians we waited for traffic to stop and then crossed in between vehicles, but drivers usually respected 'walk' lights at intersections. Our hotel was in the Miraflores district, known to be quite touristy, but at the same time, known to be quite safe, and we found ourselves in an area of restaurants, parks, cathedrals and shops.

Job #1 was to take a taxi to Clinica Anglo Americano so that Ekke could see if a doctor could check out his knee, and it was much easier to speak with someone in person with our limited Spanish rather than attempt a phone call. An appointment with a traumatologist that specialized in knee injuries was booked. A short taxi ride away was Tatoo, an outdoor gear store, where Ekke bought a new buff to replace one that had gone missing from his motorcycle jacket that had been in storage in the hotel in Mancora. Thinking ahead to a time when we might be camping we also bought a fuel canister for our little MSR camp stove as well as some bicycle chain lube that would do for my motorcycle chain. I was also on the hunt for a new merino wool lightweight pullover as I had left mine in a hotel somewhere, and was quite excited to see that they had them in stock. But it was unbelievable how pricey they were, S250 (250 nuevo soles) or $100 to replace something I had bought for $30 at Mountain Equipment Co-Op in Calgary. So I didn't buy it. We decided to look around at Larco Mar Mall, a group of shops right on the cliff side, instead, quite a tourist attraction, and took a taxi over to a park above the shops. There was police tape everywhere, however, and we walked up and down the cliff top pathways, not finding a way down to the shops. Another tourist noticed how puzzled we were and told us that there had been a fire in a theatre there in November, and it was not yet reopened (see photo above).

A taxi to the Barranco district the next day was a good option at S10 or $4. Taxis are fairly reasonably priced in Lima, but we soon learned to check the price first with the driver and negotiate down or get a different taxi if the price was unreasonable. And we tried to take the guidebook's advice to look for taxis that had yellow checkers and an identification number on the door, as they were reputable taxi companies, but by the end of our week in Lima, we flagged down any taxi that looked decent and not too banged up. The main square in the Barranco district, Parque Municipal, was crowded on the sunny Sunday afternoon, and it felt strange to see Christmas decorations everywhere at the former seaside resort for the rich and famous. Casonas or mansions lined the streets, many of them converted into restaurants, hotels or art galleries, and we really enjoyed just strolling and people watching. A wooden bridge, Puente de los Suspiros was Lima's own 'Bridge of Sighs' where, unlike the real one in Venice where people sighed because they were going to jail and would miss beautiful Venice, people sighed here because it was a popular place to go on a first date. Looking out from the cliff tops, over the ocean, all we could see on the playas or beaches was a sea of umbrellas, prime beach real estate if you could get a spot.

Barranco is a lovely, historic district south of Miraflores

 
Fun vulture statues in the park

 
Bridge of Sighs is a good place for wedding photos

 


Beautiful architecture in Barranco

Ekke thought he could attempt a self-guided walking tour downtown so we had a taxi drop us off, the next day, at the Plaza San Martin, with a statue of José de San Martin, the liberator of Peru, right in the centre. The Gran Hotel Bolivar nearby looked like a good place to find a washroom, so we pretended to be guests of the hotel and just walked right by security to find what we were looking for. Amazing what us gringos can get away with. The historic hotel was beautiful inside, with a stained glass ceiling and crystal chandeliers. A walk up the cobblestone pedestrian mall took us to the Plaza de Armas, surrounded by historic buildings such as the Palacio de Gobierno, where the changing of the guard was taking place, the soldiers goose-stepping in time to a brass band playing El Condor Pasa (you may know it as Simon and Garfunkel's 'If I Could'). A line of serious looking cars pulled up, and one of the tour guides declared, "Oh, that's our president of Peru," as a gentleman stepped out and waved to the crowd, taking advantage of the photo op. Good timing for us. After a delicious lunch of shrimp and potato-stuffed avocado at El Cordano Cafe, a rustic old place reputedly frequented by presidents of Peru past and present, we wandered the hot, busy streets, full of vendors. The Museo Banco Central Reserve provided some respite from the heat and crowds, and Ekke eyed the carved wooden walking sticks, looking for one for himself, but they were made for people much shorter than he is. I really wanted to see the archaeological rooms where artefacts such as pottery and gold from the Chimu (Chan Chan) and Mochi (Temple de la Luna) cultures were displayed. These were very interesting to us because we had visited those archaeological sites on our ride south and could now gape at the wondrous items found buried in the tombs.

Gran Hotel Bolivar

 
Plaza San Martin had a nice Nativity Scene set up

 
As did the adjacent church

 
Plaza de Armas

 

Changing of the guard at the Presidential Palace while the brass band plays El Condor Pasa

The president of Peru, Pedro Pablo Kuczynski, arrives just as his guards are changing

 
Hey, I could use a walking stick...

 
Chimu and Mochi artefacts on display from Chan Chan and Temple de la Luna in northern Peru

 


Beautiful art work in the bank building converted to a museum

 
Those enclosed balconies seem vaguely Arabian

 

Ekke had his doctor's appointment on December 14th and after taking some x-rays the doctor treated the swelling and gave him some anti-inflammatory drugs, sending him away with instructions to keep icing the knee. Ekke emailed the x-rays to his doctor in Calgary, who responded right away and said that it all looked fine. Having a week in Lima was a great opportunity to work out every day in the exercise room (good physio for Ekke's knee), write the website, run some errands, find a bank machine that worked with the CIBC card (success - thank you squirrel gods), do laundry, work on the bikes and relax. I tucked into a novel that was based in Peru, Aunt Julia and the Scriptwriter, and it was fun to visit the areas that were featured in Mario Vargas Llosa's novel.

Lima is all about foody culture, a gastronomic tourist destination, and is known for ceviche or marinated raw seafood in citrusy or piquante sauces. The scallops and cheese in shells and lomo saltado or sautéed beef and vegetables were delectable and we found crusty bread sandwiches filled with juicy pork and chicken. Chifa or Chinese food is very popular, as well as Mexican food like fish tacos with mint. One evening we found ourselves at an Indian restaurant where we watched videos of Aishwarya Rai singing and dancing Bollywood style and ate chicken tikka masala and mutton korma with naan. The gelato was always thick and rich, our favourite was at Blu's, and the dulce leche chocolate pudding was (almost) too rich to finish. We did not try the skewered beef hearts sold from street vendors.

What I love about visiting capital cities are the museums, and we were awed by the MATE or Museo Mario Testino which housed mural-sized photographs of many famous people including Kate Moss, Princess Diana and yes, even Justin Bieber. The photos often had an interesting twist like a nude walking through a party or liquid makeup spilling down the model's face, and interesting locations like at the Great Wall or Machu Picchu. Stunning photos of indigenous people in traditional costumes were beautifully displayed, and we were in awe of the intricate traditional costumes. Not being totally museumed-out yet, we visited the Museo Pedro Osma, housed in a fancy colonial mansion. The Silver Salon had hundreds of artefacts all made of silver, like teapots, chocolate pots, and religious items, and we admired them all. Other salons had portraits of Spanish royalty and religious statues like the, slightly macabre, head of John the Baptist on a plate (Latin Americans can really make graphic representations of those bible stories). A walk back to our hotel, Ekke's furthest walk yet, took us through one part of Lima I really love, the cliffs high above the ocean and beaches below. It was so pleasant to walk on winding stone pathways through colourful gardens, and then through Miraflores parks with children playing and people walking their dogs.

Museo Mario Testino

 




Some of the most iconic images of Princess Diana were taken by Mario Testino

 
Museo Pedro Osma

 
The Silver Room at Museo Pedro Osma

 


Religious art tends to be a bit more graphic in Latin America


Fog rolls in over the cliffs of Lima

 
Lots of safe places to run to in case of an earthquake

 
What the heck is that dog wearing?  A diaper?

 

It was hard to leave Lima on December 16th, as we had become very comfortable there, but our mission of taking care of Ekke's knee injury was accomplished. The ride out of the city was uneventful, just the usual dodging of vehicles with drivers who wanted your lane, and soon we were riding south on the Panamericana. Along the coast we saw lots of sandy beaches where Limenos go in summer, and they were not busy yet but soon would be as high season began in January. Ekke chatted with two friendly cops when we stopped for a break at a convenience store, and told them about our trip. I showed them the map of our world travels pasted to the saddlebag on my bike and one of the cops used Google Translate on his phone to ask us where we were from and where we were going. Our destination, El Carmen, was ten kilometres off the highway and since it was low season we could afford to stay at the Casa Hacienda San José. What a find. The hacienda complex was built in the 1600s but, unfortunately, built with slave labour. Slaves were brought from Africa, according to the brochure, because they were bigger and stronger than the indigenous people and could pick more cotton and sugar cane, and we saw underground tunnels, now catacombs, that were used to smuggle slaves in so government tax would not have to be paid. There were also secret doors to escape routes in the tunnels inside bedrooms and in the tabernacle in the chapel because pirates would come to plunder whatever they could plunder from the haciendas. Slavery was abolished in 1854, but a lot of the descendants, Afro Peruvians, lived in the area making it a vibrant cultural area, famous for their singing and dancing troupes. While I swam in the beautiful pool, Ekke enjoyed some time in the library. He had finished reading a book by Isaac Asimov, The Ends of the Earth, stories about polar regions, and then donated it to the Hacienda library so he wouldn't have to carry it on his motorcycle anymore. Dinner in the open air courtyard was lovely, with chicken cordon bleu and chicha morada porridge or purple corn and prune pudding, for dessert. It tasted way better than it sounds.

Making sure the GoPro is going before leaving Lima

 
Stop for gas at a Repsol on the way south.  Marc Marques has won five world championships, three in MotoGP.

 
Desert along the ocean

 
Arriving at Casa Hacienda San José

 
Cool, the original Spanish pool table is still set up

 
A hard cover book isn't the most convenient to carry on a motorbike so it gets donated to the library

 
Beautiful grounds of the hacienda

 
A refreshing dip in the pool

 

The GPS picked a shortcut route from the Hacienda out to the Panamericana, which we hoped would be paved. It turned out not to be paved, but the dirt road seemed fairly hard-packed so we continued on. How long could it be, anyway? The road got narrower, surrounded by sugar cane fields, and the dirt got a little softer until it was really just sand with the odd puddle thrown in to make it muddy. Ekke tried his first stand-up riding to stabilize his bike, and his knee took the pressure very well, thank goodness. The Heidenau on-road/off-road tires worked brilliantly and there were only a couple of sharp intakes of breath, mine, as the bike went into a wobble. But some words in my head saved me: Ekke's sage advice, "When in doubt, hit the gas," came in handy and the momentum stabilized the bike again. It felt like ages later but soon the highway came into view and I could breathe a sigh of relief. After stopping in Ica for lunch we rode a few kilometres to an interesting town, Huacachina, literally an oasis in the desert. An underground spring fed a lagoon which supported a lot of palm trees and other plants, and also a small population of locals and a huge population of backpackers. Jumping right into the hotel swimming pool after relieving ourselves of our heavy riding gear was a no-brainer, and it felt so good in the 32 C hot desert air. Feeling refreshed we hiked up a sand dune above the little town and were met with astonishing views - a sea of golden sand dunes far off into the distance, dotted by dune buggies roaring up and down the steep slopes, emanating screeches of delight from the passengers. On another slope some flags were set up, kind of like a slalom course that one would see on the ski slopes of the Rockies in the winter, but instead of snowboarders we saw 'sandboarders' launching themselves down the hill, racing through the flags to be the first one to the bottom. We saw several wipe-outs, and that sand must have hurt (I'm having flashbacks of skiing in shorts in springtime at Sunshine Village) but we also saw some talented 'boarders ride it to the bottom. Fantastic. No, we did not try it.

The shortcut out of the hacienda takes us through farmer's fields

 
Riding into Huacachina

 
Climbing the dunes out of the oasis is especially challenging with a bum knee

 
Endless dunes west of Huacachina

 
A 5/8ths scale Harley Davidson in Huacachina

 

Lonely Planet said there were some sort of lines drawn in the desert near Nazca, the 'Nazca Lines' - you may have heard of them. Okay, who hasn't heard of them. So of course we had to stop by the area, which was located about 400 kilometres south of Lima. I remember seeing the 'documentary' Chariots of the Gods as a child, and was struck by the idea that these designs could only be deciphered from the air. Our first view of the lines were not actually of the lines made by the Nazca people at all, however, but much earlier, in 400 BC - the Palpa lines, made by the Paracas civilization. After paying S2 (40 cents) to climb a mirador on the side of the Panamericana, a metal, tilted, shaky tower, we could make out some interesting drawings or geoglyphs on a hillside. There were several imaginary and human figures and one group of them, nicknamed 'The Royal Family' was really cute, looking like a whole family getting together for the Christmas photo, the little girls looking uncomfortable in their pigtails. Closer to Nazca we stopped at another roadside S2 mirador, not so shaky, which overlooked some Nazca geoglyphs, and we could just make out three designs that one couldn't make out from the ground: A couple of hands, a tree with roots and branches and a lizard that had its tail cut in half by the Panamerican highway. On the mirador an Italian traveller, after noticing our bikes, asked me where we were travelling to. He and his Colombian girlfriend had bought a van in Arizona and shipped it to Cartagena, and were wild camping their way down South America. He told me that they used the iOverlander app a lot, and we have since downloaded it, finding it so useful for getting information about road conditions and safe places to overnight at, all from other overland travellers. Further up the road was a natural lookout, a sacred hill where one could see more Nazca lines, straight as arrows shooting out into the desert, aligned with the summer and winter solstices. Dust devils swirled around, naturally cleaning sand out the Nazca lines so they could still be seen 1500 years later.

Heading south from Huacachina in the direction of Nazca

 
A mirador to view the Palpa Lines

 
The Royal Family

 


 
Another mirador set up beside the Panamericana allows a partial view of some of the Nazca Lines

 
The Panamericana Highway cuts right through the Nazca Lines

 
A small hill can be climbed (for free) for another view of the Nazca Lines

 
View from the hill showing how the lines are cut by the Panamericana

 


Dust devils help clean out the lines

 

There are so many theories as to why the Nazca people decorated the desert with these lines, such as that they linked sacred burial sites, that they were a big astronomical calendar used to determine when to plant crops, that they were giant running tracks or that they were made by aliens. One theory that makes sense to me is that the Pre-Colombian tribes wanted rain for their crops so they appealed to the gods above by drawing them some nice designs in the desert. A theory as to how this was accomplished is that, using a hand drawn sketch, they were, first, surveyed out with wooden stakes and second, built by turning the red rocks over to reveal the white-coloured gypsum bedrock underneath. I decided I wanted to see them the way the gods were supposed to see them so I had our hotel operator call up a reputable tour company, Aero Paracas, and within minutes I was in a van on the way to the airport. I had downed a couple of Gravols (motion sickness pills) but I still felt a touch nervous flying in a small plane. I paid the $135 Canadian dollars for the thirty minute flight and the S25 for the airport tax. The little Cesna held ten people but there were only five passengers and two pilots. A girl behind me was freaking out after take-off, turning red and sweating and fanning her face rapidly with her map, and I felt sorry for her as she never did get comfortable with the flight. I felt a touch queasy but kept my eyes on the horizon, and that helped. The first geoglpyh or drawing I saw was of the whale, and the plane flew over it, first banking to the right, and then to the left so that people on both sides of the plane could see the geoglyph. I was so surprised how clear it was after reading about how it could be hit or miss as to whether you could see the lines or not. After that the plane flew for about 5 minutes and the navigator pointed out some trapezoidal shapes and then we flew by the so-called 'astronaut', and it looked like an astronaut because the head was really big, and he was waving. The curly tail of the monkey was very obvious, and we flew by the spider. I was amazed by the hummingbird, which was on a flat plateau, and then the condor, pelican and parrot. We flew over the mirador tower and I could see, way better, the shapes we had seen from there the day before, including the tree, the hands and the lizard, where the Panamericana Highway cuts through its tail. I took a photo of the sacred hill, and later Ekke and I noticed that it was his motorcycle parked there, and him walking down the hill, in the photo. He had ridden out there to go and do his SPOT tracker. He also got a photo of my airplane. What an exciting adventure, and my curiosity about the Nazca Lines was satisfied.

Getting ready to board the flight over the Nazca Lines

 
The Whale

 
Trapazoidal Nazca Lines show perspective

 
The Astronaut

 
The Hummingbird

 
The Tree and the cutoff tail of the Lizard

 
The mirador on the Panamericana

 
The Hands

 
Sacred Hill with Ekke walking down (small red dot in lower left)

 
Ekke on the Sacred Hill

 
Audrey's Plane

 

Back in Nazca while we sat in a cafe while I recovered from the flight, we decided to ride out to the Chauchilla Cemetery that afternoon. We checked the guidebook to see what time they closed. 2:00 PM. It was 1:05 PM, and the site was 30 kilometres away. After quickly throwing on motorcycle gear, we jumped on the bikes and rode out toward the site. The paved road turned off onto a smaller gravel road. This road turned off onto a sandy road. Off-road riding was not what we wanted to do quite yet because of Ekke's knee, but we soldiered on through the sand. It felt like forever, the bikes squirming uncomfortably, but we made it to the site by 1:55 PM, or five minutes before closing. There was a woman there who happily sold us a couple of tickets, and didn't seem too annoyed that we had arrived just as they were closing. So we quickly wandered over to the adobe brick pits, the tombs of the Ica Chincha culture, some as old as 200 AD. Knowing exactly what to expect, we were still a bit taken aback when we saw the first pit. The mummies in the tombs were sitting in a crouched position, their worldly possessions such as pots and tools nearby, with hair and clothing still intact. Grave robbers had found most of the graves, so many bones and pottery pieces were scattered around and kept revealing themselves, coming up from the sand because of wind erosion. These were gathered up carefully every now and again, by the site's staff, to be reburied. What an interesting look into the history of the Ica Chincha people, and I'm glad we went there. The storyline for the movie Indiana Jones and the Kingdom of the Crystal Skull was loosely based on this archaeological site, but we did not see an Indiana Jones Snack Shop as we had seen in Petra in 2007. The ride out on the sandy road seemed easier as I channelled my inner Indiana Jones and talked my way through it, "Stand up on the footpegs, steer with the feet, don't fight the path of the front wheel, keep up the momentum, and always look ahead, Indy."

Taking a break after the Nazca Lines and discover that the Chauchilla Cemetery closes in less than an hour

 
Chauchilla Cemetery out in the desert

 
Ekke looking into the burial pits

 
Perfectly preserved in the dry climate



Ekke happy to be back on gravel after the loose sand out to the cemetery and back

 

West of Nazca the next day, December 20th, the road wound up and up and up, twisting and curving its way up to the Andes, first in a desert landscape, dry, arid and brown. The climb took us up over 3000 metres in less than fifty kilometres. At 4500 metres the landscape changed to the pampas, with gentle rolling hills and short grasses. I felt the effects of the high elevation with fatigue, malaise, a faster heart rate and some shortness of breath with any exertion such as climbing on and off the motorcycle. It felt surreal riding across the lonely plains when we spotted some movement in the grass - vicuñas! The wild camelids were happily munching on the grass, their brown ears perked, wondering who the intruders walking toward them, (i.e. us) were. Ekke and I just looked at each other with big smiles on our faces - wow. Signs of civilization were few and far between, with just the llama herders around, but we did find a small cafe where we sat and had a mate or coca tea to combat the effects of the altitude. A couple two-up on a Yamaha Tenere rode up and introduced themselves as Solange and Alejandro from Colombia. It was great to chat with other motorcycle enthusiasts, and they told us they were on their way to Buenos Aires. They had left Colombia nine days previously and ridden through Ecuador and now Peru, and we were shocked at how quickly they had made the trip. Our ride from Colombia had taken us six months (okay, including 2 1/2 months in Canada, but still). The road continued to wind up and down through terraced hills and we couldn't help but stop at several viewpoints to take photos of the plunging emerald green valleys. I wanted to take three days to acclimatize before reaching Cusco from the coast, so we stopped at Puquio, at a hotel that was a bit rough around the edges, but clean. This market town was not a tourist place, so it was fun watching the reaction of the locals who did a double take as we rode up on the big bikes and later walked around the town. And after the heat of the desert and coast, I was really glad that I had packed my downfilled sweater for the increasingly colder nights.

Leaving Nazca

 
Ekke approves of the ride east of Nazca, climbing up to the altiplano

 
Audrey spots something

 
Vicuñas!

 




Stopping for lunch on the altiplano

 
Solange and Alejandro from Colombia join us for lunch

 
Ekke spots something

 
Neat stone corrals

 


Solange and Alejandro pass by as we stop to take pictures

 
Arriving in lively Puquio (never did figure out what people were lined up for)

 
Maybe to buy tickets to the fun fair?

 
A dog and a door

 

The ride the next day took us up more Andean peaks with sweeping views, then down again into lush valleys with corn growing on the terraced hills. My right hand had a workout, twisting the throttle hard to climb the steep hills, braking before steep switchbacks, and by early afternoon it was done. The high altitude also contributed to some muscle soreness, so I was very happy to stop at Tampumayu Hotel, a rural resort in the hills overlooking a rushing river. Alpacas and pheasants wandered around the yard as we rode through the gate and right up to our own room at one of the villas, across from a fountain and small chapel. Lunch at the restaurant awaited. It's kind of a 'thing' for overland travellers to leave their own personalized stickers in the places they stay at, and here, on the door to the restaurant we noticed Globebusters (Kevin and Julia Sanders), Edelweiss Motorcycle Tours and plenty of other overlanders who had been here. Neat. Lunch of trucha or fresh trout was delicious, and it was great spending the afternoon recovering from a challenging ride, although we had to fight off some biting flies with our Watkins bug repellant. The rain came down hard that night, something we were not used to after weeks of riding on the dry desert coast for so long, but the next day we woke to lovely sunshine.

Packing up to leave Puquio

 
Llamas as we ride across the altiplano (about 4,000 metres elevation)

 
And vicuñas

 
That's a whole lot of nothing

 
Alpaca herder

 
And her trusty dog

 
Stopped for a break in this remote village at about 4,500 metres

 
Going down

 


Llamas and alpaca dot the landscape

 


Arriving at the Tampumayu Hotel.  The gates were chained shut so we were happy when someone opened up for us.

 

The green hills gave way to snowy peaks in the distance and, fully recovered, we enjoyed the gorgeous ride on the well-maintained highway. What a fun day of riding, my F650 GS accelerating out of the corners with gusto, and just the sheer joy of riding a motorcycle on a twisty road is why I ride. A roadside stop at a rustic little cafe afforded great views, and we tried the Caldo de Gallino or chicken soup. It tasted fine but a few hours later our stomachs felt a bit flippy-floppy, which was too bad as we like to eat at little places, but have to be careful. Riding into Cusco we could see the city of 400 000 people at 3400 metres elevation spread out before us, dwellings clambering up the hillsides and sweeping down into the deep valley below. Ekke used the GPS to try to guide us to our hotel and pointed down, over some buildings saying it was right over there. The road he pointed to was this tiny little lane, rough and steep with missing cobblestones, and heading down into oblivion. I just said no, could we find another route as my clutch hand was killing me. Surely there was a route that the buses used to get downtown. A very circuitous route, but with wider, paved roads took us right through the centre of town. Unfortunately it was rush hour, and it took us ages to wind our way through a market that was just packing up, carts and animals and people everywhere, but we eventually made it through and back up to the Hilton Garden Inn, a treat for Christmas (thanks Air Miles!). The manager suggested we park inside the loading dock area, a fenced and locked zone. Perfect. Inside, an elevator took us, not up to our room but down, as the hotel was situated on a steep hillside, and views of the historic Inca city awaited us from our window.

Riding down the valley from Tampumayu

 
How do you get the groceries when there's no bridge?

 
Open sewer grate (this is foreshadowing)

 
Hard to get into the Christmas spirit when it's plus 30 degrees C

 
The climb out of Abancay was fun

 
Looking back on Abancay (it was absolute chaos for traffic and navigation yet looks so peaceful from here)

 
We stop for lunch at a roadside restaurant

 
Looks like they've got good little helper for making the chicken soup

 
Chicken soup had its revenge a little later

 
Stop in another small town for a break

 
Farmer's fields leading to snowy mountains as get closer to Cusco

 


Have to go through the commercial centre of Cusco as the side streets were a bit steep and rough

 
As a bonus, we could pick up a cake for Christmas

 
Checking into the Hilton Garden Inn for Christmas (thanks Air Miles!)

 
Map of our ride through Southern Peru.  This chapter from Lima to Cusco. Next chapter from Cusco to Bolivian border.  

 
 

Chapter 8: Southern Peru, Part 2

Ekke Writes

Looking out over Cusco in the valley

 
Descending hundreds of steps down to the city centre

 
Christmas market set up in front of the Templo de la Sagrada Familia on Plaza de Armas

 
Perfect for getting all of your religious statuary

 
Entrance to the grand cathedral is through this side chapel

 
Trying out the new walking stick

 
Starting a new series: dogs and doors

Heading to the colourful market to get everything from spices to fruits...

 
To fresh meat...

 
To a yummy Christmas pig's head.

 
Ho! Ho! Ho!

 
Outside Coricancha

 
Coricancha and its famed curved Inca stone wall base

 
Entering the coricancha itself: a gold plated room (all the gold has long since been carted off)

 
Inca walls

 
A friendly llama in Cusco


Christmas Eve Fireworks! {C}{C}{C}{C}

{C}{C}{C}{C}

Chincherro church

 
Inca terraces

 
Choclo and queso for lunch

 
Don't play chicken with the minibus drivers

 
Cattle truck heading down to Urubamba

 
Gorgeous road down to Urubamba

 
After checking into the hotel we took a quick walk to the Inca ruins on the other side of town

 
Amazing stonework isn't it?

 
The Inca hadn't heard of the arch yet so the solid lintels were for the doorways (the trapeziodal design is good for withstanding earthquakes)

 
Those are some big stones

 
Audrey clambers up to the houses on the hill

 
Ekke discovers the secret to Inca plumbing - plastic water pipes

Catching the train to Machu Picchu

 
Then walk through town to line up for bus tickets and then line up for the bus

 
Finally, at Machu Picchu! Amazing...

 
Farming terraces with intricate aquaducts and specially prepared layers of soil for proper drainage

 
The Astronomer's Building had some of the most amazing stonework

 


Gilberto was a veritable font of information

 


Temple of the Sun (has its work cut out for it today)

 
Convex and concave stones so that they fit together precisely

 
The cylindrical stone was used to move the bigger stones

 


Lots of steps up to the Guardian's Hut

 
Snack time at Machu Picchu

 
The classic photo from the Guardian's Hut

 
Gilberto's walking stick comes in handy for descending the steps

 
50 minute line for the bus going back down to catch the train

 
The train back to Ollantaytambo

 

Short ride to Pisac along fields of choclo (corn)

 
With access to the Pisac Inn on the central square blocked we ended up at the Royal Inca Hotel

 
Inca ruins at Pisac as seen from the hotel

 
Audrey goes up to visit the ruins while Ekke takes it easy on his knee

Knee feeling better, we leave the Royal Inca Hotel

 
Lots of portraits of this Incan along the road

 
Beautiful Laguna de Languilayo at about 4,000 metres elevation

 
Surrounded by rain clouds we're lucky and stay dry

 
After a few kilometres of hard packed gravel we end up in Yuari (the storm would hit after we're inside)

We meet a family on a motorcycle at the gas station leaving Yuari

 
Heading out of town on good gravel road

 
Passing truck convoys of up to ten trucks each was interesting

 
Oh yeah, watch for llamas

 
Beautiful altiplano

 
Altiplano meaning high plain and at over 4,700 metres it sure qualifies as high

 
Llamas


We meet the llama shepherd (llamherd?) and share a cracker snack with him.

 
What are those pink dots in the lake at the side of the road?

 
Flamingos!

 


Stopping to pick up some supplies

 
Had to put the raingear on today

 
Checking into the fancy Casa Andina Private Collection (thanks Mom and Dad!) in Arequipa

Exploring Arequipa on a quiet New Year's Day

 


Plaza de Armas with Basilica Catedral de Arequipa

 
Monesterio de Santa Catalina

 
The monestary was for cloistered nuns, hence the "Silencio"

 


Audrey checks out the nun's pizza oven

 


The nun's "cells" weren't too sparse as these were nuns sent by rich families

 
Water filtration system as the water seeps through the ceramic cone

 


Hmm, I'll have the chubby one on the left

 
Audrey looks a bit hesitant staring down the guinea pig

 
Filet is easier to eat

 
The basilica and Christmas tree were beautifully lit up

 
Surprisingly elegant interior

Lightning was flashing on the hillsides all around us

 
So, on with the raingear and hope for the best

Boat ride on the highest navigable lake in the world: Lake Titicaca

 
Hiking up Isla Taquile

 
Traditional greeting is to exchange coca leaves from one pouch to the other

 
Women start spinning wool at age ten

 
Men start knitting at age six.  An eligible bachelor is tested by the quality of his knitted hat.

 
Audrey looks into how to spin wool

 
Weaving demonstration, how do they make such intricate designs?

 
A traditional dance

 
Which Audrey joins in

 


Sandals are made from used car tires.  When the sandals are worn out they become gate hinges.

 


Breaking rocks the old fashioned way, with a hammer

 
Back to the mainland

 
A traditional feast is prepared for us with layers of food separated by layers of hot rocks

 
Working the fields

 


Then we're back in the boat out to a floating reed island

 


A demonstration of how a floating reed island is constructed

 


The kids come home from school on the "school boat"


The interior of one of the reed houses

 
Solar powered of course

 
Audrey takes a ride on a reed boat

 


With the tourists gone on the boat the kids can play

Riding along Lake Titicaca

 
As the lake levels recede, fertile plains are left behind

 
Using a polarizing filter at this altitude sure makes the sky a dark blue

 
Fish farms on Lake Titicaca

 
Waiting in line at migracion for the passport stamp to exit Peru

 
Map of our route through Southern Peru (Parts 1 and 2)  

 

Chapter 9: Bolivia and Southern Peru

Ekke Writes

Audrey is pretty happy after an hour and a half to complete the entry into Bolivia

 
Beautiful riding with Lake Titicaca to the left as the sun breaks through

 
The view from the dining room of the Kalasasaya pyramid of the Tiahuanacu civilisation

At the Kalasasaya pyramid

 
The Andean Cross

 


Thomas, the amatuer archeologist, at work at Tiahuanacu

 
Note the stonework, predating the Inca by a thousand years

 


Recovered artefacts protected and on display in the museum

 
Riding to La Paz from Tiwanacu the storm clouds look quite threatening

 
Looking down on La Paz from El Alto

 
Wandering the streets of La Paz

 
The staging area for the Dakar Rally at Plaza San Francisco is already crowded the day before

 
Public, interactive art on the streets of La Paz

Streets are closed off for the Dakar Rally

 
Three beauty queens and one aspiring beauty queen

 
Parades before the arrival of the competitors

 


I love these guys!

 





 




Best. Spurs.  Ever.

 
They're really little cymbals

 
The support vehicles start arriving first

 
Dutch truck driver De Rooy's support vehicles

 
The bikes start to come in to huge applause

 





 




A couple of the bike competitors waiting to take the stage

 
The stage where the competitors were greeted by the beauty queens and film crews

 
The cars after the bikes and quads

 
Time for a snack?

 
One of the more ardent fans at the event

 
The competition trucks start to arrive later in the day

 
Not strictly Dakar related but you can buy outfits for your dog here

 
A fun dinner at Joe Bananas

Walking up Calle Jaén

 
You can see La Paz climbing up the valley sides in the distance

 
Entrance to Museo de Etnografia y Folklore, just closing for lunch

 
The Presidential Palace

 
Sunday's paper celebrating the marvelous welcome for the Dakar

 
Love the Jesus art on some of the buses

 
Mercado Negro you can buy your witch's supplies, like llama fetuses

Audrey Writes

A small crowd had formed as we loaded up our bikes outside the Casa Prado hotel on January 9th. A lady looked at me, looked at my bike, and looked at me again, and said, "Dakar?" I said, "No, from Canada." I still got an approving nod and thumbs up from her, and another lady came and shook my hand. Imagine being a rider in the Dakar and what that must feel like. Later that day, I got to feel like a rider in the Dakar. Leaving La Paz was, at first, super easy as there were no roads closed due to the Dakar and most of those vehicles had left town, and we wound our way up a wide, paved road, quite different from the cobblestone alleys that we had ridden in on. Thomas had warned us of construction in the El Alto area, so we prepared ourselves for some rough roads, but what we were faced with was exacerbated by the recent heavy rains. The road out just ended, with no detour signs in sight so we just wound our way through some small residential streets in the direction of a bridge that would get us to the highway. The bridge that we sought could be seen in the distance and as we got closer we could see that it was also under construction, and impassable. Ekke asked a couple of locals for the way out, and they pointed us toward a road that seemed more mud than anything. Puddles in the lower areas resembled small lakes, but there was nothing for it but to ride through, sometimes sinking into bigger holes, sometimes hitting hidden rocks, the bikes fishtailing through the slippery mud. So it was kind of like riding in the Dakar except there was no one there to cheer us on and it was all over in an hour. Another one of those 'I could kiss the pavement' moments. The road to Copacabana was lovely, winding through green hills and we stopped at a convenience store for a lunch of Pringles chips and cookies. Ekke spotted a tiny Red Bull can in the shop, but on closer inspection of the label it said, 'Red Bill' and did not feel like a liquid. It was gum. Stunning views of dark blue Lake Titicaca greeted us as we wound our way down to the lakeshore.

Departing Casa Prado

 
Climbing up out of La Paz

 
Construction detour isn't very well marked

 
and rather challenging

 
Ekke enjoys a "Red Bill".  Bolivia doesn't seem to enforce copyright laws.

 
Approaching the ferry connecting the east and west side of Lake Titicaca

 
Looks nice enough

Having experienced the Peru side of the lake with the visit to an authentic floating reed island, we wanted to see Lake Titicaca on the Bolivian side. To cross over to the peninsula we rode down to the water's edge and saw about 20 ferries, though I use the term loosely, lined up ready to take passengers over the channel. The flat boats were quite rickety-looking with nothing but two planks for the vehicle's wheels to sit on, but they were loading a big truck on, so when someone waved us over to get onto their ferry, we just rode up the ramp and balanced on the one metre-wide plank. Ekke had to pull his bike forward to make room for a car, and the staff moved some rebar that was balanced on a truck ahead of it, aside, and it had to rest against his bike. Easy on, but not so easy off. As we pulled away from the dock we noticed that the front of the boat was not meant for loading and unloading - we would have to back off the narrow plank to get off the ferry. Also, between the planks was a big drop off, so there was no chance of doing a U-turn on the boat. The plank was too narrow to just roll the bike back when we got to the other side so Ekke got on my bike and duck-walked it backwards while I pulled it back. His bike is much bigger and heavier than mine so we took the saddlebags off, and I could tell the ferry staff were getting annoyed with the time it was taking. So they started helping but pushed it too far, almost off the ramp, until I yelled, "Pare!" a word I had learned on a horse ride in Ecuador, meaning "Stop." Just in time. So, with no bikes ending up in Lake Titicaca, we rode away, in the direction of Copacabana. At the edge of town there was a chain stretched across the road and we couldn't pass unless we paid 20 bolivianos ($4) - the town wanted their cut of the tourist dollars. And a tacky tourist town it was. After riding down a steep gravel pathway and checking into the Torres Hotel, we walked along the beach into town, with jet skiers, swan peddle boaters and trampolinists to the left and fish snack shops, tour operator shacks and souvenir stands to the right. This was not the tranquil Lake Titicaca that I had envisioned. The temperature dropped quite dramatically as the sun went down and downfilled jackets replaced shorts and tank tops. The herb-stuffed trucha or trout at La Orilla Restaurant renewed my spirits.

Well this shouldn't be too bad.  What do you mean, "You have to back off the ferry?"

 
Yep, everyone has to back off the ferry at the opposite shore

 
Approaching Copacabana

 
Le Torres hotel

 
Another "Jesus Bus"

 
Inca statues compete for space with paddle boats at the Copacabana beach shore

Early on January 10th, we walked down to the docks and caught a boat to Isla del Sol or Island of the Sun, in a flotilla with six other boats. Our boat held about 30 people, and many of them clambered to the roof where they could sit outside and enjoy the lovely views. The boat trip was scheduled to last for two hours, and we were wondering why it would take so long as the island was not that far away. When we saw how slowly it went, with a small outboard motor to power it, we realized why, and settled in for the long trip. The sun was out when we started, but further along, the skies darkened, and within minutes there was torrential rain. The boat came to a halt so that people from upstairs, already soaking wet, could climb down the ladder and sit inside. Later, when the hail started, the boat stopped again so that the rest of the people could come inside, and it was standing room only inside the boat. Dockside poncho sellers in Cha'llapampa were doing a brisk business in the pouring rain, which was soaking people from the side with the horizontal winds and since I had not brought my rainpants, I paid the 10 bolivianos ($2) for the plastic poncho. It was also a good time for second breakfast and a steaming cup of coffee in a little rustic cafe adjacent to the docks.

Isla del Sol was very sacred to the Incas as they believed it was where the sun god was born and the first Inca people were created. A tiny museum housed a few artefacts like gold statues, goblets and puma statues, and we found a display of photos documenting the discovery of an underwater Inca temple nearby very interesting. The rain let up and we walked along a sandy beach and then up an Incan stone pathway, the crystal clear blue ocean below. Within minutes I was shedding the rain poncho as the sun beat down and we climbed higher, the views becoming ever more spectacular. Our goal was the Chincana Inca ruins where a sacred ceremonial stone, the Piedra Sagrada, sat looking big and flat like a dinner table. A labyrinth of rooms, the Palacio del Inca, covered a hillside with steep steps, narrow passageways and extra short doorways that Ekke really enjoyed. As going downhill was still time-consuming for him, he started the trek down before me, and I explored the palace some more, marvelling at the Incan stone architecture. Our ferry was scheduled to leave at 1:30 PM and we made it there at 1:39, but the boat waited for other tardy passengers and left at 2:00.

Museum at Isla del Sol

 
Lovely artefacts

 
The weather clears up nicely as we walk up from Challapampa towards Chincana

 
Palacia del Inca at Chincana

 
Mesa Ceremonica thought to have been the site of human and animal sacrifices

 
Ekke starts back down to the ferry

The boat chugged slowly beside Isla del Sol, the outboard motor dying every now and again and was eventually restarted with a lot of effort by the driver. Isla de la Luna was off in the distance, where the moon was commanded to be formed by the Incan god, Viracocha. We docked at Yumani near the Escalera del Inca or Inca Stairs, which showcased more exquisite Inca design. The stairs led to other sites, but due to time we had to miss them and enjoyed lunch on a balcony overlooking the lake instead. A day was not enough on Isla del Sol and we knew we would have to come back someday to do the island justice. Our 4:00 PM ferry was the slowest one yet, and, unexpectedly, it stopped on the other side of the island to pick up more passengers. We were on the milk run. While we were docked, a few passengers got off, and when we inquired, it turned out that the boat docked for twenty minutes, just enough time to disembark and explore Pilko Kaina, another Inca palace sitting on terraced slopes. Bonus. Back in Copacabana, we couldn't face eating dinner as we had such a late lunch so settled on banana chocolate crepes on a patio overlooking Lake Titicaca. The temperature dropped dramatically so we turned up the heater back in our hotel room and watched the Dakar Rally highlights on t.v.

The reconstructed Inca Stairs near Yumani

 
A lovely reed boat on Lake Titicaca

 
Snow capped peaks behind Isla de la Luna

 
Pilko Kaina ruins at the southern tip of Isla del Sol

 
Relaxing back at Copacabana

 
Drat, we missed the blessing of the vehicles ceremony

Checkout took a long time on Wednesday, January 11th as the hotel did not accept credit cards so they said that we could pay with Paypal. After waiting for ages, it didn't work so we used some bolivianos and American cash to pay up. So much for getting an early start on this, a border crossing day. The border was about eight kilometres away and the proceedings went quite quickly on the Bolivian side, with some English-speaking Argentinians pointing us in the right direction for getting the bikes' paperwork and inspection completed. Getting into Peru was not so quick and easy as we stood in a long lineup at migracion for forty-five minutes. With long waits at borders, one tends to run into other travellers, and we chatted with a German rider on a Tenere who owned a small bakery near Leipzig. I also chatted with a Brazilian who had a huge bag precariously perched on his Harley. He and his buddy were trying to ride all the South American countries in three months, so were on a schedule, riding long distances. He told me that the road to Tacna was rough, high on the altiplano, freezing cold and snowy, and they had arrived in La Paz late at night. At aduana or customs we met a father and son from Seattle who had ridden the shortcut route to Puno that we had avoided, and the father had crashed his bike on the dirt road. They were not impressed with the drivers in Peru, especially buses that passed on blind corners, but perhaps we were used to the erratic driving as it didn't seem that bad to us. The wait at customs seemed to be taking forever, and when it was our turn, we realized why, as every time the customs agent typed something into the computer, he would have to wait and wait, as the internet was extremely slow. Finally, he handed our completed temporary import papers for the bikes to another fellow who was not wearing a uniform, who invited Ekke into a back room. The gentleman spoke Spanish and Ekke clearly understood the word 'propina' very well, which means 'tip' - he was asking for a bribe before he would give Ekke the papers. Ekke stood his ground and just said, "No" in a very firm voice. He wasn't going to pay any propina to anyone. After a bit of back and forth, the fellow relented, went and talked to the customs agent who said to just give us our papers back and waved us on our way. After a check of our insurance papers by a police officer as we were riding away, papers which thankfully Ekke had procured through the internet, we finally entered back into Peru.

We'll miss Bolivia and the women in traditional dress

 
You can go around the world on any kind of bike (this guy was from the Czech Republic)

 
Just exited Bolivia and entering Peru we meet lots of fellow travellers, from Argentina, Germany and the U.S.

As we had not bought gas in Bolivia because most stations could not sell it to tourists, my bike was on reserve and only had a few kilometres of fuel left. So, I settled for some 84 octane gasohol in the next small town and hoped it would be good enough. As we were so late we decided not to have lunch and just stopped for a roadside snack in front of a convenience store and ate crackers and yogurt while standing by the bikes. The terrain along the road heading west was quite flat at first, with the occasional small village, but then we climbed higher into the isolated altiplano. The scenery was quite dramatic, with snow-covered peaks in the distance, and we rode for hours and hours, the temperature falling to 1 degree Celsius as we climbed to 4800 metres. We felt a few drops of rain and donned our rain gear, but I felt surprisingly warm and cozy with my electric vest cranked to high. A stop on the top of the pass was interesting as we saw herds of llamas and some pink birds off in the distance, which, with the help of the superzoom camera, turned out to be flamingoes standing in a chilly pond. The pavement turned to a gravel road, laced with mud, so it was slow-going for a while, with big trucks passing us as we carefully found a non-slippery way through. Snow lined the highway but disappeared as we descended on a lovely, paved, curvy road with sweeping views which was very fun until a deep fog or neblina set in. Our face shields fogged up, so there was nothing for it but to keep them open so we could see, wiping them constantly with our gloves. Visibility got very poor, with Ekke often disappearing into the fog even though he had his hazard lights on and was only a few metres ahead. As we approached civilization, a huge Christos Redeemer statue appeared through the mist and the clouds parted, affording us views of vineyards in the valley. Down, down we rode, and as we passed a line of vehicles we were both in shock at the powerful performance of the bikes at this elevation, 1500 metres. We had been riding at high elevations for weeks, the bikes had been sluggish, and now we felt the freedom of twisting the throttle and zooming away. The 84 octane fuel in the tanks seemed to work just fine. We pulled into Moquegua just as the sun was going down and dusk settling in, the temperature a pleasant 20 degrees Celsius. As we had not been sure of reaching the city because of our time-consuming border crossing, we had not booked a hotel, but thank goodness the Moquegua Hotel had a room available.

Back in Peru

 
Goodbye to Lake Titicaca

 
We wondered how they transported llamas...

 
Stopping to pick up snacks before heading across the bleak altiplano

 


Stray dogs in the middle of nowhere

 
Audrey finds a nice spot to put on her rain booties

 
Cold and damp




Stopping to have a snack

 
Chocolate covered almonds! Yum.

 


Yep, those are flamingos all right!

 
Hmm, that looks suspiciously like snow

 
Yikes!

 
Time to get to a lower elevation

 
Where we are enveloped in a deep fog

 
Happy to be out of the fog as we drop down to Moquegua, Ekke praises the Cristos Redeemer statue

The ride past green Pisco grape vineyards along the river was very pleasant the next day but as soon as we left the lush valley, we were faced with a hot, sandy desert that seemed to go on forever. This was the beginning of the Atacama Desert, which would be our constant companion for the next few thousand kilometres. But the 160 kilometre ride to Tacna, on perfect pavement, went very quickly, and the city lay spread out before us in a deep valley, surrounded by sand dunes. It was lovely to arrive at the Casa Andina hotel, and we enjoyed a bit of relaxation time by the pool, recovering from the tough ride the day before. Ekke offered to wash the bikes the next day and took them one by one to a nearby bike wash, where they had a thorough cleaning for 7 soles ($2.40) each. After running a few errands, we had lunch at Da Vinci Cafe, but a few hours later my stomach started flipping and flopping, and all I could do was lay in bed for a couple of days. So we put off leaving but I finally felt well enough to ride on January 15th, in the direction of Chile, our 75th country.

Back in the coastal desert of Peru

 
See a few more bigger bikes, like this BMW S1000XR, as we get closer to Chile

 


Nice to be back with the palm trees after our time at high elevations

 
Rooftop pool has a great view of the dunes surrounding Tacna

 
Get the bikes washed before heading to Chile

 
Map of our route  

Chapter 10: Chile

Audrey Writes

Chile! What an exciting event to be crossing the border into this, our 75th country, on January 15th, 2017. What would it be like in Chile? The border crossing was organized and predictable for the most part, but there was also a first for us: The customs agent had us carry all of our luggage into a small room and then run it through a scanner. They were looking for fruits, vegetables, meat or dairy products that could be snuck across the border, and they even had a dog sniff the bikes. Minutes earlier I had dumped some coca leaves into the garbage that I had been carrying in a souvenir Peruvian coca bag since Lake Titicaca, so we were good. Riding in Chile immediately had a different feel to it than Peru, the road signs and highway quality improving somewhat, both of which seemed to resemble those in Europe. Also, the houses were finished, which was very different than those in Peru where houses were often a work in progress to avoid paying taxes. Arica was our destination, just a few kilometres up the road, and the Casa Beltran Hotel, which was a bit tricky to get to because of plenty of one-way streets. Our time in Arica was spent wandering around the quaint, beachfront town, which had a great pedestrian mall with live entertainment, a jazz band blaring out tunes from morning till night, playing for tips. From a perch at an outdoor cafe, in the bright sunshine we listened to the band while we ate a huge pizza that was so cheesy that not even we could finish it. The cathedral nearby, which was designed by Gustave Eiffel (yes, that Eiffel) had been shipped from Paris and was made of wrought iron, was being renovated, but still interesting to look at from the outside. Tourists dressed in beach wear were everywhere, which was also a change because in Peru, most people were fairly modestly dressed.

Iron cathedral designed by Gustave Eiffel, transported from France and assembled in Arica

 
The aduana (customs) building was also made of iron and designed by Eiffel

 
Samsung TV demo made us miss home a little bit (this is Moraine Lake, just a couple of hours from our house)

A self-service gas station was a bit of a shocker as we were leaving town, as we had not seen one yet in South America, and it wouldn't accept our credit cards so we had to drum up some cash. Outside of town some interesting statues appeared in the desert, perhaps put there to break the monotony of the rarely changing landscape. But they made for an interesting photo op. Our ride to Iquique was long and hot, often with no vegetation or wildlife in sight for hundreds of kilometres. Occasionally we would ride through a valley with some greenery, where a small stream came through, but then it was the same desert landscape again up top. Making good time on the highways was definitely a bonus, and before we knew it we arrived at Humberstone Ghost Town, a former nitrate mine and UNESCO World Heritage Site, 265 kilometres away. It was perfect timing as the temperature was just cooling down from scorching to bearable, and we wandered around the historic town for an hour. It reminded me of Heritage Park in Calgary, with the grand old theatre, schoolhouse, church and train, and buildings were from about the same time period, the late 1800s. Much of it had been restored but we could even get into some unrestored buildings, which felt like they could come tumbling down at any moment. Another 50 kilometres took us into Iquique, where we arrived with just 10 kilometres left on my gas gauge. Phew. The city looked stunning from the hills up above with sweeping views up the coast, and a giant sand dune as a centrepiece. Nitrate mining, used for fertilizer, had paid for a lot of the mansions that lined the wooden boardwalk pedestrian mall, and the historic architecture had a crumbling elegance to it. Our hotel at one end of the pedestrian mall, Casa Baquedano was fairly pricey for what we got compared to something similar in Peru. Also, we had a few small appetizers at a cafe down the street, a pop and a tiny beer, which came to $26, way more expensive than Peru. Chile was not cheap, which meant we would have to adjust from the lifestyle to which we were accustomed. Also, restaurants did not open for dinner until 8:00 PM, and many shops were closed all afternoon, another similarity to Europe.

Just outside of Arica we came across these statues in the desert

 
Our first real taste of the Atacama Desert

 
Only little valleys like this had any green in them

 
Humberstone Ghost Town, a relic from the nitrate mining days

 
Beautiful theatre

 
Audrey tries out the classroom

Iquique had long stretches of beautiful golden beaches and a malecon or big waterfront sidewalk, which made for great walking possibilities, but the best part of walking the streets in Chile is that vehicles actually stopped for pedestrians. This was a new phenomenon, not yet seen in our recent travels, and it took us a long time to get used to. But we would just walk up to a street corner, the cars would stop and even turn on their hazard lights to alert drivers behind them, and let us pass. Amazing. The streets were full of collectivos, or shared taxis, that had a sign indicating what their destination was, and they were way less expensive than taxis. So, instead of donning our riding gear in the hot sunshine, we flagged down a collectivo and headed to the Zona Franca, a duty-free shopping area with a central shopping mall. It was a treat to get a real cappuccino, enjoy the air conditioning and peruse the shops. Sometimes I don't mind the western luxuries in life. Since the place was jam packed with people, we figured it must be the major draw for tourists to Iquique, but for us it was more of a cultural experience than shopping trip as we didn't really buy anything. In the surrounding dock areas there were car dealerships and warehouses stuffed with goods, all selling at presumably lower prices. Back downtown we took our computers to another hotel that had a cafe by their sparkling swimming pool and just sat and wrote for a couple of hours, the waves crashing on the rocks down below. At Tercer Ojito Restaurant, the Pad Thai and chicken satay in peanut sauce for dinner were memorable. Temperatures in the evening were just right for sitting on a bench and watching the world go by on the pedestrian mall, and we were intrigued when a group of hip-hop dancers practised their moves to the music from a tiny smartphone set up nearby. A more organized group of about twenty locals set up a ghetto blaster and practised some traditional folk dances. Tourists just joined in.

Lovely pedestrian mall in Iquique - cars stop for pedestrians in Chile!  (This will undoubtedly get us into trouble in the next country)

 
Working on the website

 
The malecon in Iquique was lovely for strolling at sunset

The ride along the South Pacific ocean on January 19th was beautiful, the good highway winding its way along sandy stretches of coastline or rocky volcanic headlands, the temperature a pleasant 28 C. Groups of informal campers in vans, motorhomes or tents were often sighted - it looked like people just camped where they wanted to camp on the long stretch of coastline. Other areas had vacation huts with some infrastructure such as roads and washrooms, but mostly it looked like a camping free-for-all. There were some 'golf courses' set up in the sand, where 'greens' were marked out by rocks with not a piece of grass in sight. When nothing grows and you want to golf, I guess you just adapt. It was high season, as January and February in the Southern Hemisphere were like July and August for us northerners, kids were out of school and summer was in full swing. Near the Tropic of Capricorn we saw a natural arch in the ocean, the Monumento Natural La Portada, and it made for a nice place to take a break from riding. It was quite an impressive geological feature with its volcanic base and marine sediments on top that had eroded away to form an arch. Twenty-five kilometres on we reached Antofagasta, which was a bit of a relief to ride into as it was a notably non-touristy place, where real-life Chileans went about their daily business. Staying for two nights meant that we could get some of our errands done, such as trip planning. The maps came out and we spread them across a big table in a garden area of the hotel after breakfast the next day, highlighting places we wanted to visit, mindful that we would want to get to Ushuaia by mid February to hopefully catch an Antarctic cruise. Also, we found a post office and sent a parcel of Peruvian souvenirs home, which lightened our motorcycle load considerably. Antofagasta had a modest waterfront which was pleasant for walking around in, and the usual central square, which had a replica of Big Ben in the centre, evidence that the British were here. The Germans must have been here as well as we found Don Karl's Restaurant for dinner and ate spaetzle and wiener schnitzel. I don't think we have any idea what authentic Chilean food is, really, with all the international fare on offer.

Leaving Iquique (watch for pedestrians who have the right of way!)

 
Back in the Atacama Desert along the South Pacific

 




This arch outside Antofagasta is a natural monument on the Tropic of Capricorn

 
5/8ths scale copy of Big Ben in Antofagasta

 
Remnants of the loading docks when Antofagasta was a port for nitrate production

 
Chile must be the Lone Star country,  who knew?

The Mano del Desierto sculpture was on our route the next day, about 75 kilometres south of Antofagasta. It was quite a momentous occasion as we had seen photos of this hand sculpture in every South American slideshow presentation at the Nakusp Horizons Unlimited meetings for years, and now we were here. The hand had always looked so isolated in the photos, in the middle of the Atacama desert, with no signs of civilization nearby. In reality, it was 500 metres off the paved Panamericano Highway, with, I believe, every tourist going by stopping in to see it. But, it was an impressive concrete sculpture, with lots of details in the fingernails and palm. It was also fun to meet another motorcycle traveller there, Eduardo from Brazil, on a BMW 1200 Adventure, who was on his way to Santiago. Our route along the coast took us past colourful rock formations, some of them with black seams of volcanic rock slicing through them, which made for interesting views. We stayed in Caldera, a beach resort with a small stretch of sand and an enormous amount of sunbathers. A floating wooden raft out on the water had so many people trying to climb on that it teetered precariously and eventually sank and we could only hope that all the heads that went under eventually bobbed back up again.

Mano del Desierto in the middle of the Atacama Desert

 
Remember the days in Ecuador when it took a whole day to cover 200 km?

 
Veins of black (coal?) in the rock add interest on the ride through the desert

 

Bahia Inglesa, named for pirates that may have buried treasure nearby, was a few kilometres down the road so we stopped by the next day, January 22nd, to take in the white, sandy beach and sparkling blue sea. This was a lovely spot, and I wish we could have had more time here, but now we were on a mission to get riding south to Ushuaia. Riding hundreds of kilometres per day on mostly straight roads was not a difficult task, and I just set the throttle lock to 110 kph, sat back and sang show tunes in my head to pass the time. Ekke was very thankful, especially considering that we had headsets, that I did not sing them out loud. Gas stations were few and far between, but near enough that we did not have to carry any extra fuel, and often they were the only places to get something to eat, usually in the form of chicken sandwiches, and they were lively places with lots of families on holidays. The city of La Serena was our next stop, with a lovely centre of historic buildings, cobblestone streets and lots of greenery. One highlight was a beautiful Japanese garden, and we were transported back to Kyoto with the beautiful plants, waterfalls, lakes and pagodas when we took a long stroll there the next day. What a cool respite from the hot sun beating down on the city streets. Since we were right on the coast, I was wanting to try fish for dinner, any fish, so we found a place above a market and tried to read the Spanish menu. After trying very hard, we couldn't decipher much, so the server took us over to the kitchen and asked the cook to show us some fresh fish. When he pulled out a huge, black, slimy fresh eel with beady eyes staring out, I just gulped, and said, "No, gracias," and ordered the crab instead. It turns out that the eels were not so fresh after all as from our table I watched as the cook kept going to a deep freeze, pulling out frozen eels, and pouring boiling water into the freezer to separate them from other frozen fish. 'Health and Safety' alarm bells were going off.

Typical restaurant near a gas station (Audrey still has her helmet on because of a sudden dust storm)

 
La Serena had some really beautiful buildings

 
And also some interesting artwork/graffiti

 
A nice Japanese garden in La Serena reminded us of Kyoto

 

Our route on January 24th took us up into some really dry hills with scrubby vegetation but later into some lusher surroundings, and we even passed a few vineyards. Parts of Chile were on fire, as they were having a particularly dry year and forests were ablaze in record numbers with international aid coming in to help. As we rode into Valparaiso we could see a smokey haze hanging over the city from the fires which we didn't think were that close to this area, but the winds carried the smoke all this way. The main fires were hundreds of kilometres south.

Chile has lots of solar and wind power

 
Arriving in a hazy Valparaiso

 
The smoke is really evident at sunset

The charming city of Valparaiso was made charming because it was built on several hills that seemed to just climb out of the Pacific Ocean and go ever higher. So, when planning, we had originally thought of booking a historic hotel on one of the hilltops. But we changed our minds after envisioning riding small, cobblestone streets up impossibly steep slopes to get to the place. We thought a hotel on the flatter part of town would serve us best, so ibis Hotel to the rescue. It had secure parking that only required making a big u-turn several blocks in length around a town square or riding one-hundred metres on the sidewalk, which we opted for, waving apologies to the pedestrians that we used as pylons. ibis Hotel quality is predictable and consistent which is okay every now and again for us long-term travellers, as sometimes one just gets tired of trying to figure out which tap the hot water is going to come out of or whether the bed will be long enough. And we had the ocean and busy port right at our doorstep. A walk up the hill on cobblestone streets at dusk was good for some cardio, and then more cardio as we ascended a huge set of stone stairs, and even more as we climbed up to a restaurant, Pasta e Vino, and afterwards, up to a lookout point. Just a few blocks from the hotel and we were so high up, at Paseo Gervasoni at the top of an old circa 1883 steam-powered ascensore or train that climbs up a hill at a steep angle, like a funicular. The ascensore would have been perfect for saving us the long climb up but, alas, it was closed for repairs. The name of the square, 'Gervasoni' sounded familiar to Ekke, and it turns out that Hotel Gervasoni was the one that we had been considering staying at, and there it was, at the end of an impossibly steep cobblestone road.

Exploring Valparaiso

 


Amazing artwork and murals

 

Our guidebook recommended a scenic bus route that had amazing views, so the next day we waited for bus 'O' at Sotomayor Square for the bus that would get us to Cerro or Hill Bellavista. Forty minutes later, with no bus 'O' in sight, we cut our losses and hopped onto an old Swiss electric trolley that seemed to be heading in the direction we wanted to go to, along the valley floor. Even though our 'Maps with Me' APP worked wonderfully and we knew where the closest place to Cerro Bellavista to get off was, we still faced a lot more elevation gain to get there. But we had a plan. On the map we found an ascensore which would take us up the steep hills. Excellent. Sadly, the Ascensore Espíritu Santo was closed for repairs, so we climbed the endless stone stairs into oblivion on the hot summer day. The stairs wound through little neighbourhoods with quaint stone buildings painted with murals or graffiti to keep us entertained, and we finally reached our destination, a former home of Pablo Neruda. La Sebastiano was situated high on a cliff, in a cool, shaded garden, surrounded by other houses, with views out to sea. After watching a video about the poet's life we learned that he was a diplomat and politician, had won a Nobel for literature in 1971, was nearly jailed for his Communist leanings, and brought 2200 Spanish refugees to Valparaiso in 1939, rescued from the Spanish civil war, on a boat named The Winnipeg. The four-story house contained an eclectic antique collection with a lot of sea memorabilia from around the world, and we could just picture Neruda, with his constant entourage of friends, watching the fireworks every year on New Year's Eve.

Catching the electric trolley bus


The view from Pablo Neruda's house (no pictures allowed inside the eclectically furnished house)

Walking downhill in Valparaiso was much easier, and it was so enjoyable ducking into unkempt alleyways, past colourful buildings and taking in extraordinary views of rooftops and the sea. Museo a Cielo Abierto, a series of outdoor murals of landscapes and people painted by students in the 1960s, was an interesting, artistic area - the whole city had a Bohemian feel to it. Planning a route was moot as stairways that we thought we could access were closed with wrought iron gates, or sidewalks just came to halt for no reason and we would have to retreat. But this labyrinth of pathways just added to the quaintness of the place, named a UNESCO World Heritage Site in 2003 for its unique city layout and corrugated iron architecture. Neruda described Valparaiso perfectly, writing, "Valparaiso, how absurd you are. You haven't combed your hair, you've never had time to get dressed, life has always surprised you." That's exactly what it felt like here. A sidewalk cafe always seemed to be available just when we needed it, and we happily sipped milkshakes as we watched the hustle and bustle of the everyday life. We eventually made our way over to the Ascensore Reina Victoria in hopes that it was actually working, and, thank goodness, it was. After paying 500 pesos ($1) and going through a turnstile, we climbed into a little box on rails that held about 10 people and a cable pulled it up the steep hill. More beautiful views awaited us on this new hill, and we walked through the Concepcion neighbourhood, lined with craft shops and cafes, the colourful steeple of the cathedral in the distance. Valparaiso was definitely one of those special places that we would have to come back to someday.

One district in Valparaiso is actually a museum of murals

 




Another in the series: "Dogs and Doors"

 
The funiculars made life a lot easier when they were working

Ekke Writes

A fire near the top of the mountain on the left adds more smoke to the everpresent haze

Dropping the bikes off for a 10,000 km service (that's how far it was from Bogota)

Exploring Santiago, here on the Plaza de Armas

 
Plaza de Armas

 
A crowded street market on Saturday (Ekke's shoulder bag looks ripe for the picking)

 
Everybody loves a fish market on a warm day

 
Vile substance splattered on us from above on a quiet pedestrian mall

 
Museum of Pre-Colombian Art was great for seeing artefacts from civilisations we had seen coming down South America

 


Check out the bulging cheeks from chewing coca leaves

Sewing up my MEC bag after getting it slashed (probably in the street market the day before)

 
Museo Nacional de Bellas Artes

 

An outdoor themed shopping mall (e.g. Trek bicycle and Garmin shops) had a standing-wave you could play on

National museum with history of Chile

 




Seriously, this is the entire transportation section of the National Museum?

 
Audrey climbs the Cerro Santa Lucia, a lovely park in the middle of the city

 
Great views of Santiago

 

Vineyards for making Chile's famous wines (the 2017 batch is going to have a smokey flavour)

 
Starting up a vineyard

 
Warm welcome at the Shambala B&B

 
Nice room but air conditioning would have been nice (at least there was a fan)

Rural Chile

 
Lots of people flying the flag as the country comes together to battle the devestating wild fires

 
Interesting that a lot of the forests we saw were planted

Moto Aventura in Osorno was a great motorcycle shop and tour operator

Approaching the ferry to Chiloé

 
The wooden church in Ancud was also a museum about the UNESCO listed churches on Chiloé

 
Here are all the UNESCO listed churches, though there are others that are not listed

 
The interior of the church/museum was unfinished so that one could see the amazing woodwork

 


Arriving in Dalcahue where our hotel was located we found our second wooden church

 
Yes, more "Dogs and Doors"

 

Short ferry boat ride to Isla Quinchao

 
Idyllic motorcycle riding on the island

 
The church in Achao was too popular and so was closed to visitors

 


Church in Curaco de Vélez

 
The interior of each church was completely different

 
Back to the ferry and the main island

 
The church in Castro had burnt down twice before.  Check out the burned down building to the right and the fire crews in front.

 


Iglesia de Nercon just south of Castro, our most southerly point on the trip so far

 
The famous stilt houses in Castro are technically illegal

 


Our favourite church on Chiloé was this one in the village of Tenuan

 

Riding east, towards Argentina and up into the Andes from Osorno

 


The border between Chile and Argentina is at this pass

 
Audrey stands exactly on the border

 
The father and daughter from Santiago head down from the border towards the Argentine border control post

 
Map of our route through Chile  

Chapter 11: Patagonia and Tierra del Fuego

Audrey Writes

Argentina, the eighth largest country in the world, awaited and on February 7th, 2017 Ekke and I crossed into our 76th country. The border process took about 1 1/2 hours because they were a bit short on aduana (customs) staff and the queue was long. Us Canadians need to show we've paid a $75 US reciprocity fee (Canada charges Argentina so Argentina charges Canada) which we had purchased on the internet a few days before, printing out the paperwork at the hotel. The agent did not ask us to produce proof that we had paid it, but we had heard that some border agents didn't really know that Canadians had to pay it. As we rode away we noticed a queue of vehicles that was kilometres long of people trying to leave Argentina and knew they would be waiting for hours.

Coming down from the pass and Chile into Argentina

Patagonia! This region encompasses the bottom one-third of Argentina and Chile, south of Rio Colorado. Ruta 40, a highway that spanned the length of Argentina north to south took us into the Siete Lagos (Seven Lakes) region. With views of glacier-topped volcanoes and rocky cliffs in the distance, we enjoyed riding the twisty, paved road and the forests and lakes reminded us of British Columbia back home. Signs with information about wildlife, plant life, geology and history were placed at the ten lookout points, so we learned a bit about the area at each of our stops. Our hotel in St. Martin de Los Andes, the Hosteria el Arbol Duendeas, was like an alpine chalet, all wood and charm and the town itself was full of such structures and packed with holiday goers walking the lakeside pathways or paddling around the lake in canoes. When perusing menus posted outside potential restaurants for dinner, we noticed that Argentinian prices were way higher than Chilean, which we had been shocked at after coming from Peru. So we settled on a sandwich cafe for dinner that also sold tartes or broccoli and cheese pies with salad.

One of the seven lakes along Ruta de los Siete Lagos

 
Is Argentina going to have lots of cool cars like this Fiat 800 Spyder?

 


What a great ride

 
The beach at San Martin de los Andes

With all the summer travellers we noticed that the gas stations in town all had huge lineups of cars and motorhomes the next morning, so we took a chance that we would find a gas station on our 198 kilometre-long route. The sweeping curves on the highway were fun as we rode past more sparkling blue lakes and mountain peaks, and we stopped in Villa la Angostura for lunch. Again, there were big lineups, right out onto the street at the gas stations, so we didn't gas up there. Cuckoo clocks adorned the walls of the restaurant, and we were beginning to realize that this was probably not typical in all parts of Argentina, and that we were in a very special area. And they served waffles. Really.

Ruta 40 along the Seven Lakes route in Argentina looks a lot like Highway 40 in Kananaskis Country in Alberta

 
Yummy waffle.  You don't want to be here at the top of the hour with all the cuckoo clocks.

Our destination, Bariloche, was situated on Lago Nahuel Huapi, surrounded by mountains, and I made it without running out of gas. As we rode into town I saw some sort of liquid on my tank and a sweet smell. I thought someone had thrown a Coke at my bike. When I stopped I noticed radiator fluid was spewing out of a hose, like a little fountain. We wiped it up and started the bike again, watching for the leak. It soon stopped spewing, and Ekke assumed that it had been overfilled during the service in Santiago. But it was a little disconcerting, considering we were riding into the isolated part of Patagonia soon, but it, thankfully, never gave us any more trouble after that. Bariloche was very hilly and to get to the hotel we needed to ride down a road that resembled Lombard Street in San Francisco, that really curvy, steep one with flower boxes on the inside curves. Looking down from above, I lost my courage, and we ended up going around several blocks, twice, with our only option to ride the steep street. I just took a deep breath, held on, and managed to complete the super tight, steep turn that got us into the hotel parking lot. I didn't have to dodge flower boxes, however.

San Carlos de Bariloche across Lago Nahuel Huapi

It was a pleasure to stroll around the alpine town, down the pedestrian mall, past chocolate shop after chocolate shop. Quaint is an understatement to describe this place, with the Alpine-style honey coloured wood and stone chalets, a lakeside promenade and pedestrian friendly streets. There was even a St. Bernard dog in the town square posing for photos with tourists. Tourists were buying chocolate by the kilo, but we decided to purchase just a sample, which was delicious. The town was settled in the late 1800s by European immigrants who brought their alpine lifestyle and chocolate recipes. Later it was known as a haven for Nazi war criminals whose descendants still live in the region.

The main square in Bariloche looks very Alpine

 
And of course nothing says Bariloche like a St. Bernard dog.  Really?

 
Mmmm, chocolate fondue

Visiting the local museum was a highlight the next day. Grace was our tour guide and she took us through each area, including a display of animals like pumas and condors. I was surprised to see green parrots and parakeets in the Patagonia display, but Grace said they were the most southerly species in the world. Artefacts of the Tehuelche, the main indigenous peoples, were displayed and they had learned how to live on the barren steppes for thousands of years until the Europeans came. During winter they lived by the sea and ate seafood and in summer hunted rheas or ostrich and guanacos, a type of camelid, for food and clothing. Their domed hide tents reminded me of First Nations dwellings of North America, and they had bows and arrows and spear throwers as well. These people eventually died of diseases that they had no immunity to.

Survey equipment used by Francisco "Perito" Moreno to lay out the national park

 
Ah, that's why it is so windy in Patagonia

 
Lago Nahuel Huapi

 
Wow, a church that isn't Spanish Colonial

 
Yep, Argentina is going to have interesting cars

Bariloche is a popular ski resort, but in the summer the mountains make for some lovely motorcycling. The road south the next day wound its way along some small lakes and streams, past thick woods and open meadows, the snowy mountains making an appearance every now and again. The 10 degrees Celsius temperature did not feel bad with the sun beating down, and we were reminded of cool mountain mornings in Banff, an hour from our home in Canada.

Leaving Bariloche

 
Heading south on Ruta 40

The British automobile show, Top Gear, had done an episode in Argentina, so we watched it via the internet in our hotel. Jeremy, Richard and James had many adventures while they drove their V8s down Patagonia, and one thing that I thought was interesting is that they stopped in at Butch Cassidy's cabin. We looked to see if it was close to our route, and it was about a 30 kilometre detour, just north of the town of Cholilla. I had also read the story of Butch Cassidy, The Sundance Kid and Etta Place in Bruce Chatwin's book, 'In Patagonia' about how they had come to Argentina on a steamer from New York and settled at the foot of the Andes in the west for a few years, ranching sheep and cattle. I had also read that the road into the site would be rough, but we thought we could give it a try and turn around if necessary. A GPS point on the iOverlander APP pointed us in the right direction, and, happily, a paved highway took us right to a gate and a sign, Butch Cassidy's Cabin. The cabin was on private land, but there was no one around to ask permission so we just ducked through the gate and walked half a kilometre in the hot sun. The three-room wooden cabin and barns, made with typical American log cabin construction techniques, was empty, so we used our imaginations to picture what life must have been like here while treading carefully on those creaking hardwood floors. It was situated in a picturesque little spot, right on a babbling brook, the peaks of the Andes in the distance and would have been a lovely place to live off the spoils of all those train robberies (cue the 'Raindrops Keep Falling On My Head' soundtrack). But the story goes that the trio got restless and took up their life of crime again. Etta moved back to the States, and Butch and Sundance's story ended in a shootout in Bolivia.

Cool, Butch Cassidy's cabin

 
Lock up the bikes and walk a few hundred metres in to the cabin

 


Where Butch Cassidy, The Sundance Kid and Etta Place lived for a few years

Patagonia is known for its wind, and when we started heading east, it got windy. The highway headed straight for the most part, and occasionally wound through a small valley where we saw signs of sheep estancias or ranches, and perhaps a few small trees planted by the owners. The town of Esquel had some tourist infrastructure because it had a nearby ski resort and also some hiking trails. For overlanders, this was also the beginning of the scenic Carretera Austral, a rough dirt road just over the border in Chile. But we were now on a schedule to get down to Antarctica for the cruise, and we didn't want anyone getting injured on a dirt road, so we decided to take the paved Ruta 3 down the east coast to Ushuaia, perhaps doing the Carretera on the return trip.

Heading south on Ruta 40

The ride east on Saturday, February 11th was easy as we had a tail wind for most of the way. Traffic was fairly decent for the most part but Argentinian drivers do come up at high speeds from behind and pass you with centimetres to spare. Something to get used to, but scary. I needed gas in the next town so our only choice was to join the queue, which went out onto the street, taking about 15 minutes, which was not bad - we had heard of other riders waiting 3 hours.

Queued up for gasoline

A recent post from another rider on our iOverlander APP had indicated that there was a 14 kilometre stretch of construction further ahead. When paving or fixing highways in Patagonia they just plow a detour 'road' out in the adjacent field and throw a pile of gravel on top, which makes for unpredictable riding conditions. Standing up on the footpegs and keeping the momentum up helped a lot when we rode that section, especially when the gravel became loose and deep but I was very happy when that 10 kilometres of gravel was over. But later, we came to a second gravel section. I wanted to slow down for a break before facing the deep gravel. I was up on the pegs, but before I knew it I was plowing through the deep, loose stuff, going too slowly to keep up the momentum. So, I hit the gas to save the bike from falling over, my earlier hesitation causing instability. The bike started fish tailing and I tried to get it back under control, but the fish tails got wider, the bike sliding from one side of the road to the other. It felt like I was on a bucking bronco, out of control, and I remember crying, "Ekke, Ekke, Ekke," before the bike high-sided, pitching me over the top, landing on me before spinning a 180 on the gravel, finally coming to an abrupt stop.

This doesn't look good

Ekke Writes

Good Samaritans stop to give us a hand

 
Audrey insists that Ekke take pictures

 
Audrey and the bike upright, we're left on our own

 
Audrey points to the location of the crash for future reference

 
Fractured foot

 
Temporary cast

up! up! and away!

 
Getting out for a stretch along Ruta 3

 
Guanaco

 
Rhea

 
The weather turns miserable

 
We consider taking the shortcut that would save us 200 kilometres but the mud deters us

 
Our hotel in El Calafate after the GPS suggested this goat track down the hill

Approaching Perito Moreno Glacier

 
The glacier is huge

 
Love that deep blue in the ice

 
A sense of scale

 


Not just glaciers to see in Los Glaciares National Park

 
Glacier Calving

Wow

 
Our new expedition vehicle gets tested on the way to Punta Walichu

 
The view from the Punta Walichu caves

 
An audio guide gives great information

 
Blackened from camp fires the cave paintings are on the underside of the overhang

 
About 4,000 years old these paintings are

 
You can just make out the image of a hand

Audrey Writes

Lake Argentino was a lovely glacier blue colour as we drove out of El Calafate. What a gorgeous region this was. Our route took us back to Esperanza, where we headed southwest, past herds of guanacos and rheas. The two species always seemed to be seen together, and I found out why: Rheas depended on the guanacos for a food source as they eat the larvae in their dung. Interesting. The steppe grasslands seemed to go on forever, with an occasional hill formed by glaciers. Ekke noticed a peak in the distance and said, "I think that's the Torres." With the superzoom camera, he was indeed able to identify Torres del Paine, the famous towering peaks, and we got very excited, as we had been looking forward to visiting here for years. The national park was in Chile, so we crossed the border at a tiny little port of entry, the proceedings taking about 15 minutes to leave Argentina and 15 minutes to enter Chile. At the entrance into Puerto Natales we noticed a huge statue right in the middle of the traffic circle that kind of resembled a grizzly bear - we would have to investigate that later. The hotel, the HD Natales was out of town and in a bit of an older building - we'll call it historic, but with friendly hosts who gave us cookies upon our arrival. For lunch, La Bote Cafe in town served excellent chicken, but when Ekke saw guanaco steak on the menu, he couldn't resist. I always admire his willingness to embrace the local cuisine. During a walk around town we came upon the big statue that resembled a bear and noticed that it had a huge tail. It occurred to me that this place had been mentioned in the book I was reading, 'In Patagonia' and the author had talked about a prehistoric creature, the Mylodon or giant sloth whose remains were found in a nearby cave. So, the grizzly bear mystery was solved.

Torres del Paine as seen from Ruta 40 in Argentina

 
El Bote for a tasty guanaco lunch

 
We must be back in Chile and Ekke's "Doors and Dogs" series

 
Coscoroba Swans on Golfo Almte Montt

 
Hand sculpture inspired by the same artist as the one near Antofagasta, Chile

Our hotel manager had suggested a route into the national park the next day, so we picked up our boxed lunch and headed out. The surrounding hills were green, dotted with guanacos and rheas, and we stopped at a blue, glacial lake with a view of the Torres or mountains that resembled towers, in the distance. After paying 21 000 pesos or $42 each to enter the park we drove along some really loose, deep gravel and I was kind of happy that I was not riding this on a motorcycle. At a viewpoint we met a rider from California, Drew, who agreed that the riding there was quite challenging. He had ridden from Alaska and was on his way down to Ushuaia. Even though the day was sunny the wind whipped through our clothing and I was glad that I had brought my downfilled jacket and toque. After parking near some waterfalls, I thought it was very nice to have a car to sit in to eat lunch, but it would have been more of an adventure if we had been on bikes. At a scenic footbridge leading to a small island on Pehoe Lake we saw four motorcycles with Brazilian plates, including a BMW K1600GT. There was also a support vehicle with them, so they were obviously on a tour. Kudos to the rider of the K1600GT who had ridden that deep gravel section, 2-up.

Beautiful paved road heading towards Torres del Paine park

 
Lots of wildlife on the way, like these guanacos

 
A soaring condor

 
Rhea

 
Crested Caracara

 
Patagonian geese

 
Torres del Paine

 


Leading to the park entrance

 
Cuernos del Paine mountains have a unique dark layer

 
Drew from California on the way from Alaska to Ushuaia

 
Stunning scenery

 
Not the ideal gravel road bike but there it is

Lago Grey was up another loose gravel road, and when we passed by a stand of trees I saw a couple of green birds flying by. Parakeets! How cool. But they flew away too quickly to get photos. A hike at Lago or Lake Grey took us down a steep hill and across a gravel beach. Our goal was to get to a view across the lake of Grey Glacier, but the beach got rockier, and the wind got stronger and with my foot in the walking cast boot, walking was getting uncomfortable. So, I retreated back up the beach and Ekke climbed up a hill for the glacier view. It was a bit overcast, which was too bad, but we did see a gorgeous blue iceberg that had calved off and floated down the lake.

Walking along the gravelly shore of Lago Grey Audrey tries her boot cover


The strong winds have pushed the iceberg all the way down the lake from the glacier

 
Strong winds indeed.  Ready for takeoff!

 


Leaving Torres del Paine park with one last look back

The cave in which the giant sloth remains had been found was on our route home, but as it was 7:40 p.m. when we arrived, and I had read that it closed at 7:00 we thought we had missed it. But happily there were cars parked outside and we were sold some tickets, so I guess we'd made it. The cave was very special for Bruce Chatwin because in his book 'In Patagonia' his great uncle had found a piece Mylodon skin that had been preserved in glacial ice and given it to Bruce's grandmother. As a child in England Bruce loved the mystery of the skin so it was like a pilgrimage for him when he visited the cave in the 1970s. The wide mouth of the cave was very impressive, and the cave itself was 200 metres long, and there, standing up on its haunches on a hill was a Mylodon statue, similar to the one in town. The species of giant sloth had gone extinct about 5000 years previously. It took quite some time to walk around the interior of the huge cave, which got very dark in some parts and slippery from water dripping, but it was easy to imagine that giant beast finding shelter from the cold Patagonian winds and snows in here.

Mylodon Cave, note the people for scale

 
Lifesize replica of a mylodon

The drive to Punta Arenas was about 250 kilometres, the wind very strong whenever we got out of the car, and the trees looked as if they were growing sideways. So it wasn't surprising when we came to an Ode to the Wind statue, very appropriate for this part of the world. A few high-flying condors could be glimpsed in the distance, and we enjoyed spotting the many bird species in and around the ponds, including flamingoes. Our hotel, Jose Nogueiera was right on the main square, a former palace built by wool barons, the Menéndez and Braun families.

Route to the end of the world

 
A condor soars on the powerful wind

 
A Chilean gaucho

 
Ode to the Wind

 
Jose Nogueiera hotel in Punta Arenas

Since I was trying to find an overboot for my walking cast in preparation for the Antarctic trip, we drove to the Zona Franca, or duty free zone and perused sports stores in the shopping mall, but found no boot covers. Punta Arenas had a lovely old cemetery and after taking a photo of the map at the entrance we wandered for quite some time looking at beautiful tombs and chapels including those of the cemetery's benefactor, Sara Braun and wool baron bigshot José Menéndez. A very popular tomb was that of the Unknown Indian, a memorial to the all the native people that perished after the coming of the Europeans. Dinner of vegetable curry at the hotel was delicious (I still don't know what authentic Chilean cuisine is), but the dessert was kind of curious - quinoa stuffed in a white chocolate tube with chantilly cream. But the quinoa had a tangy taste as if it was fermented, and I don't know if it was supposed to taste like that, but I ate it anyway. I didn't get sick.

One of the most spectacular cemeteries in South America is in Punta Arenas

 


Tomb of the Unknown Indian

A ferry across the Strait of Magellan the next day, February 21st, left at 9 a.m. We did not have a reservation, but showed up at 8:30 a.m., hoping to get on. After being put on a waiting list, our name was called at 8:55 and we were on our way to Tierra del Fuego, the Land of Fire. This big island was named thus because on Magellan's voyage in 1520 he was struck by the number of native campfires glowing in the fog when he first arrived. The Californian rider, Drew, and the Brazilian motorcyclists were on the boat, and we chatted with the English speaking guide for a while and talked about our trip. Further along on the ferry ride we saw someone get very excited, pointing at the sea. Whales. We just got a glimpse of the back of one and it disappeared, but it was still exciting to see. On the way into port, Ekke spotted dolphins, which was also exciting. The town of Porvenir had a post office so it was a great opportunity to mail some postcards, which took about 4 stamps each. We could barely fit them onto the cards but we were assured it was okay to overlap them. After lunch at the Croatian Club of the most delicious salmon I've ever tasted, we drove along the coast on a rough gravel and dirt road. It had also been freshly graded which makes it soft, making us wonder how the motorcyclists made out.

The ferry to Tierra del Fuego

 
Beautiful road but maybe a bit glad to be in a car

 
Guanacos on Tierra del Fuego

I had read that there was a penguin colony nearby, but since we were going to see penguins on Antarctica, it wasn't really on our radar. But as we came around the bay, we saw a sign that said the site was only 14 kilometres off the road. It was getting late, and we still had a border crossing ahead of us, but decided to make the detour, and were very glad we did. A small visitor centre was set up, and after paying admission, a guide explained some penguin etiquette, such as staying quiet and not moving too quickly. A wooden wall had been set up to separate tourists from the penguins, and beyond the wall, about 50 metres away was a beautiful colony of king penguins. The yellow, white and black colouring was magnificent, and Ekke and I just looked at each other and smiled. What an amazing sight. This was the same species that we have at the Calgary Zoo. The site was right on the coast, but it was kind of strange to see penguins in this environment, on a grassy pasture, with no ice or snow in sight, and a few sheep wandering around for good measure. But, this was their natural habitat, and the colony was thriving, with several adolescent chicks to be seen that were just starting to explore on their own. We watched a lone penguin wandering further up the beach for quite some time, but then it was time to leave. What an amazing experience.

King Penguin Park

 
We stood behind a wooden wall (like a duck blind) so as not to disturb the penguins

 
An adolescent king penguin still hanging out with the adults

 


Strange to see penguins walking around in the tall grass rather than on ice and snow

 
Does the fox snack on penguins?

 




OK, who thought that penguins and flamingos shared an ecosystem?  This pond was only a few kilometres from the penguin park.

A construction zone further along lasted for 30 kilometres, and the detour road was basically hard packed dirt, which would have been treacherous if wet. But it was easy in the car, and we could see that the paved, concrete road beside it just needed a few finishing touches and then it would be complete. The border crossing onto the Argentinian side of Tierra del Fuego was quick and easy and again they did not ask for the reciprocity fee papers. The road was paved to Rio Grande, and the Status Hotel was a great respite after a busy day.

The final 200 kilometres to Ushuaia the next day, February 22nd, was quick and easy and we passed by lovely glacier-covered mountain peaks, sparkling-blue lakes and babbling brooks. We were a bit emotional when we saw the sign for Ushuaia - we had made it to the end of the world! Okay, not on our motorbikes but it still felt like a dream come true. The city itself lay spread out before us, up on the mountainous slopes, sweeping down the hillside to the port below. Running errands was the order of the day, submitting a couple of loads of laundry, getting Dramamine for seasickness, looking at parking lots to try to figure out where to park the car for 11 days, and visiting our travel agent, Lorena, that we had been in touch with by email. With my foot in the walking cast boot, I needed a way to keep it warm and dry while walking around on the Antarctic Peninsula. Lorena took us over to a winter gear rental shop, and there I found a snowboard boot that my foot could fit into and remain immobilized, warm and dry.

Heading to the end of Ruta 3

 
One final mountain range to be crossed to get to Ushuaia

 
The old road over Paso Garibaldi looks like fun

 
We made it!


Dusty Ushuaia sits on the Beagle Channel, the most southerly city in the world

The official Fin del Mundo or End of the World sign was in Tierra del Fuego National Park, and we drove out there the next morning. The park had great facilities and we paid a fee, got some maps, and drove to Lapataia Bay. The parking lot was jam-packed with tour buses and vans, and we had a Brazilian biker take our photo in front of the famous sign. Some boardwalks led to an overlook of the bay, some peat bogs and beaver dams. Beavers were brought here from Canada to breed as their fur was useful for making those European stylish top hats until the mid 1800s. But now they are pests and devastating the natural forests and they can't get rid of them. A visitor centre was located at Lago Roca, and not only did they have great cappuccinos, the museum was very well done. A dugout canoe of the Yahgan native people was used to hunt whales. The whale oil had many uses, one of which was to spread it all over their bodies to keep them warm and dry, thus eliminating the need for clothing. This could definitely reduce the rising costs of Gore-Tex.

The final stretch of Ruta 3

 
The Beagle Channel

 
The end of the road

 
Put on our motorcycle jackets for that special photo

 
A patagonian goose welcomes us to the end of the world

 
Who says you need a special expedition vehicle?  Just ask these French travellers.

 
A young crested caracara

 
Centro de Visitantes Alakush had great geological, animal and indigenous peoples information

 
Imported beavers are now a pest, destroying native woodland

 
A replica of a Yaghan peoples boat using the same construction techniques

On February 24th, Ekke and I packed up the car, parked it at a big lot near the port, finished some last-minute errands, and boarded the bus to take us to our 11 day Antarctic cruise. We were so excited.

Brochure photo of our ship, the Ocean Endeavour

 
Map of our trip through Patagonia and Tierra del Fuego  

Chapter 12: Antarctica Part 1

Quark Expeditions Antarctic Explorer

Ekke Writes Departure and Crossing the Drake Passage - February 24 to 26

Group photo of Antarctic Cruises travel agency staff and guests before boarding the Ocean Endeavour

 
Welcome tea before being shown to our cabin

 
Audrey can't believe how large the cabin is

 
Obstructed view of Ushuaia before departure

 
Sailing the Beagle Channel

 
Breezy on the upper decks

Audrey shows off her new parka

 
Sea birds join us on the cruise south across the Drake Passage

The weather started getting rough, the tiny ship was tossed.

One of the great presentations on board (swivel chairs are fun in rough seas)

 
Sheltered Antarctic waters and everyone rushed outside

 
Our first seals

 
Beautiful. Magical.  Antarctica.

Audrey Writes Day 1:  February 27

A fifteen minute notice call for our group, the Leopard Seals gave us enough time to walk down to the mudroom, an area of several rows of lockers containing our rubber boots and life vests. Dr. Jo had taped my fractured foot the night before and insisted I wear the rubber boots instead of the snowboard boot as they would be fully waterproof for wet landings (stepping out of the Zodiac into water to get to shore) and better for hiking on the slippery ice and rough terrain. I had put a liner sock and thick woollen sock in so that the foot was quite immobilized. After bundling up for the cold, we stood and waited for quite some time, getting ever warmer, but finally a group of ten of us were assembled and we walked down a hallway and down some stairs. Our I.D. cards were in a plastic pocket on the sleeves of our parkas, and a staff member ran a bar code reader over them, our name and photo showing on a computer screen, to indicate that we were leaving the ship. A disinfectant dunking station was set up where we dipped each rubber boot in, as well as the hiking poles that I had borrowed from the front desk, so that nothing that could be contaminated with bio material, like dirt or seeds, was brought into Antarctica. A ramp with some stairs had been lowered, and we were helped onto the Zodiac rubber rafts which had been craned down earlier. Sitting on the edges, our guide, John, a history professor from the U.K., drove the small inflated raft toward Paradise Bay, with mountains reaching 1500 metres tall and glaciers flowing down to the sea.

John is our driver and guide around Paradise Bay

After declaring that this was his favourite place in all of Antarctica, John took us close to the glacier, which was a gorgeous glacial blue colour with a toe as high as a tall building. It was so surreal, cruising around the foggy, ice-strewn bay, silent except for the chug-chugging of the Zodiac engine. One of our fellow cruisers wondered if a piece of ice that looked precariously perched would fall off soon, and John said that it could fall off today or it could fall off three years from today - glacier calving was hard to predict. As we got closer to the glacier, a few big chunks of ice did tumble down. Ekke and I had experienced the calving of the Perito Moreno glacier in the Andes, and usually, but not always, this was a sign that something bigger could calve off. John said that he also felt like something big could happen after those ice chunks fell, so he brought the Zodiac to a halt and we pointed our cameras toward the glacier. Within seconds we heard a loud crack as a building-sized chunk fell off, sliding down and making a big splash, the impact rapidly forming waves in the water. Ekke and I both captured the calving event on video, which was just amazing. (click on the link to the YouTube video at the end of this day to see it) The waves made by the plunging ice chunk soon reached us, causing the Zodiac to wobble, so John took us out, away from the rough waters.

Cruising around Paradise Bay

 
Toe of the glacier in Paradise Bay

 
That looks like it is ready for calving

Looking toward land, I could see a queue of people in yellow parkas climbing up a snowy slope to a lookout point, and I wondered, with my foot injury, if I would be able to make it up there, too. As we approached the shore, some movement caught my eye - penguins! Our first Antarctic penguins! This species, gentoo, was recognizable by their white 'earmuffs', a species that we have at home in the Calgary Zoo. They waddled around, climbing up and down the rocks and snowy hills, unreal because here they were, in the wild. I watched as they waddled down to the water's edge, jumping in to go catch some fish, jumping out and then waddling around on the snow and ice again.

Climbing the hill behind Base Brown

 
"Dry landing" at Base Brown

 
Gentoo penguin!

 


Projectile pooing

I decided to brave the climb to the lookout point, but the steep pathway was icy, and at times it felt like two steps forward, one slide back. Flags had been set up by the staff so that we would stay on the pathway and wouldn't accidentally step into a crevasse, and it was a relief to get to the top. A view of Paradise Bay greeted us, with beautiful glaciers all around, and other Zodiacs far below cruising around the icebergs. The hike down was slightly treacherous as the icy path was so slippery and it was hard to get a grip except by stepping into deeper snow on the sides. My foot held firmly in the boots, and I have never before felt like kissing a pair of hiking poles as I did that day, as I really felt like they stopped me from tumbling down that icy slope. Back down near the shore, a mother penguin was feeding its chick, and it was quite a spectacle. The chick tapped on the mother's beak with its own beak, the mother regurgitated fish and krill, and the chick reached right in with its beak, pulling the food out and swallowing, tapping again for more. Ekke and I were just enthralled, and we kept looking at each other, laughing, with big grins on our faces, declaring that we were so lucky to be able to witness this.

Icy climb to the top of the hill

 


Lunch time!

 
Moulting gentoo penguin

The Zodiac took us back to the ship, where we dipped our boots and hiking poles into the disinfectant bath, had our I.D. tags swiped electronically to show we were back on the ship, left our rubber boots and life jackets in our lockers, and were handed a hot towel to wipe our faces with, which felt very good. As we ate a lovely buffet lunch including, among other things, chicken schnitzel and hot rice pudding, the ship sailed off towards Neko Harbour.

Us Leopard Seals were the second group to be called out to board the Zodiacs in the afternoon, and we landed on the shore of Neko Harbour. A huge, grey Weddell seal, identified by one of the staff, lay basking in the sun, and then waddled down toward the water, slithering in. Hundreds of unbelievably cute gentoo penguins waddled about and it was nearly impossible to stay five metres away from them, as we had been instructed to do, as they would constantly cross our path or sneak up from behind. An impromptu game of tag developed when an adolescent penguin pecked another one, who turned tail and ran after the teasing penguin. Both of them scuttled down the rocky beach, wreaking havoc on adult penguins who just wanted a bit of peace and quiet so they could moult undisturbed. The penguins that were moulting looked quite forlorn, sitting amongst a pile of feathers, staying still so that all their energy could go towards the moulting process of pulling their old feathers out with their beaks. This process happened once a year and could last for weeks, until a new set of feathers grew in, all in preparation for the long, cold winter.

Weddell seal on the beach

 
Walking with penguins

 
Neko Harbour

 

In a rocky nesting area we watched, fascinated as a chick tapped its mother's beak, rewarded with the regurgitated food. One mother penguin refused to give up the food, and turned and ran, encouraging the chick to run as well as a sort of training exercise to get the chick to work for its food. Another penguin took the short-cut route to the sea, sliding on its belly on the slippery glacial ice. A glacial stream was a draw for several other penguins further along on our walk, who slurped up the fresh water over and over again. I wonder what they drank in the winter? As we walked on the icy surface, my hiking poles were not only useful for balance, they were a big attraction for one of the penguins. I was just walking, minding my own business, when I felt a nudge on my pole and looked down to see a little beak chewing on the metal, with a clicking sound. It was all very funny until the penguin decided that my rainpants would be a funner chew toy, and the little beak latched onto them. The five metre rule of keeping distance between yourself and the penguins does not apply when the wildlife approaches you, and we were told we could just stay still and enjoy the experience if this happened. In this case, however, I decided that I didn't want to sacrifice a pair of rainpants for this particular penguin interaction and walked away from the curious gentoo.

Moulting time makes for some interesting hairdos

 
Grippy feet

 
Umm, Audrey aren't you supposed to stay several metres from the wildlife?

 

A Zodiac cruise around Neko Harbour allowed for a very special experience for us. The dinghy motored around between icebergs and our guide, Nick, pointed out a big ruckus in the water. A leopard seal was eating a dead crabeater seal in the water. Cue the 'National Geographic' soundtrack. It felt like an African safari as several Zodiacs circled around, the leopard seal tearing at the poor, dead crabeater seal, throwing pieces into the air, with scavenging birds daring to swoop down to grab a morsel. Nick said that he had never witnessed a seal species eating another seal species, and all of the other guides were fascinated as well.

Leopard seal with its freshly killed crabeater seal

 


 

Back at the ship, after shedding our parkas and boots, a hot chocolate was put into our hands on the way out of the mudroom, and back in the cabin, a hot shower never felt so good.

 

Antarctica Day 1

Ekke Writes Day 2 - February 28

Heading out to Port Lockroy

 


What a stunning, though isolated, location

 
Base is overrun with penguins

 
The Port Lockroy museum brought to life what it must have been like to live here for months at a time

 





 
A whale skeleton is all that's left from an earlier time

 
Back on board and heading to the next destination

 
Chef Manfred at the BBQ

 
Best place in the world to enjoy a burger

 

Going somewhere fabulous

 




The welcoming committee at Danco Island seems to have dozed off

 


Check out the tobogganing seals in the video at the end of the day

 


Who's checking out whom?

 
It must be play time!

 
Hello!

 
The expedition guides go to the island to set up for the walk

 
An icy climb

 
Grippy feet are key to an icy climb

 
No way is this as good as Chef Manfred's BBQ

 
Made it to the top

 





 


Ahhh...

 


It takes a while to get down the icy slope

 
Enjoying the sunset on board after dinner

 
Minke whales and penguins

 


A glorious end to another amazing day

 
Antarctica Day 2 Video featuring playful seals, an icy climb and a rather wet Zodiac ride

Chapter 13: Antarctica Part 2

Audrey Writes Day 3 - March 1

Cheli gave the wake up call over the loudspeaker the next morning, March 1st, to inform us that the Ocean Endeavour was travelling through Lemaire Channel, and that if we weren't out on deck right now, then we should be. Ekke went up to the top deck at the front and stood there for ages, watching as the ship broke through the ice. It was cold, so I joined him a bit later, cozy in my yellow parka. The bow of the boat, usually closed to passengers, was opened up and offered more beautiful views with icebergs and glaciers all around. Just as we were going into a narrow part of the channel, people started pointing and getting excited. We looked and saw a wall of snow and ice falling into the sea about 500 metres in front of the ship - avalanche! So the ship slowed down and waited for the waves, caused by the falling ice chunks, to subside, before continuing through the channel. Some minke whales swam by in the distance, a magical sight in picturesque Lemaire Channel.

Entering the Lemaire Channel at dawn

 
Avalanche!

 

After breakfast the Zodiacs cruised out to an iceberg graveyard, Iceberg Alley, a bay where icebergs would get stuck for years. The shapes and colours were stunning, deep blues and greens when the sun hit them just right. Fellow passengers on kayaks and paddleboards could be seen enjoying the calm waters and bright sunshine while paddling about among the bobbing icebergs. After a wet landing on Peterman Island, the furthest south that we would reach on the cruise, we hiked over to a group of gentoo penguins who again displayed their playful penguin antics such as waddling, pecking and chasing. One of the ornithologists, Jim, pointed out a new species of penguin to us, a lone Adelie penguin, identifiable by the white circles around its eyes. It was great to finally see a different species of penguin after seeing thousands of gentoos. Jonathan Shackleton was also there on the pathway, and he warned us about the fur seals and how they could suddenly turn aggressive, so to give them a wide berth. They were really playful, and we watched as a couple of younger ones wrestled enthusiastically. Jonathan also pointed out Shackleton Mountain, named after the famous explorer, who was also his cousin, so I asked if I could take his photo with the mountain. Further along, another guide, Noah, warned us of a precarious cornice overhang of snow and sent us around it. Ekke stayed and chatted with Noah, watching a drone, brought with prior permission by a couple of passengers, fly around the island, taking videos. I walked up to a viewpoint, and it was so warm that people had shed their parkas and sweaters, with one fellow posing for photos with his shirt off. Global warming?

Passing by a penguin colony on the way to Iceberg Alley

 
Zodiac cruising through Iceberg Alley

 
Kayaking was an activity offered on the cruise, doesn't it look wonderful?

 


A gentoo penguin almost finished moulting

 
Sleepy fur seal

 
I'm not sure that the Antarctic is the place to learn standup paddelboarding

 
An Adelie penguin on Peterman Island

 
Jonathan Shackleton (yes, that Shackleton) poses with Shackleton Mountain, named after his cousin Ernest

 
Audrey climbs further as Ekke stands with Noah, warning people not to approach the cornice

 
Wrestling fur seals

 

It was our lucky day for the Zodiac cruise that afternoon around Pléneau Island as we had Cheli, the Quark expedition leader, as our guide. Her commentary was always colourful, and combined with her New Zealand accent and great sense of humour, it made for a wonderful 2 1/2 hour cruise. Some crabeater seals were lounging on icebergs and then put on quite a show for us, slithering off the ice and climbing back on again. They bobbed and weaved around the Zodiacs, their heads popping up on one side or the other, looking like they were having fun entertaining us. We cruised into a little bay, weaving our way between icebergs and Cheli pointed out the letter 'F' for 'Francais', the name of a ship, carved into a rock. Further around the little cove we were treated to quite a spectacle when penguin after penguin porpoised through the water. It was unbelievable how high they leapt, and one by one they jumped out and up onto the rocky shore, waddling away. They looked way more elegant and graceful moving through the water than they did on the beach. Cheli gave us a special challenge: Who could spot the lone chinstrap penguin in the group of gentoos? Ekke did, and took some great photos. Cheli said that the gentoos were so numerous that they were like the 'rats' of Antarctica and were adapting to climate change, taking over other, less adaptable species' habitat.

Cruising around Pléneau Island

 


A crabeater seal takes a break

 
Closeup of a seal's paw

 


Playtime!

 
Crew from the ship "Francais" were here

 
Lots and lots of penguins

 
The penguins would gracefully glide through the water and then jump up on shore to waddle up the island

 
A lone chinstrap penguin among the thousands of gentoos

 
A raft (!) of penguins porpoising through the water

 
More playtime

Dinner that night was a barbeque on the deck with several varieties of meat, corn-on-the-cob, and beautiful glaciers in all directions. My Zinfandel wine kept naturally chilled in the cool Antarctic air as we just sat and took in the beauty all around us. Later, Jonathan Shackleton gave a talk about how he had been interviewed by an IMAX film company regarding the life of his cousin, Ernest Shackleton. A film about those adventures, 'Shackleton's Antarctic Adventure' was the result, which we got to watch, complete with popcorn. What a story: Shackleton's ship, Endurance, got stuck in the ice on a trans-Antarctic expedition in 1914. Through his amazing leadership skills, he managed to keep his crew's morale up when the ship was trapped in the ice for 400 days and was eventually crushed by the sea ice. After floating on an ice floe, he eventually had his crew head out in the lifeboats on open water, finding Elephant Island where the only food sources were penguins and seals. Shackleton reinforced one boat with a roof and 6 of them sailed to South Georgia Island, 800 kilometres away. Because of a huge storm they could only land on the southern shore, and their boat was wrecked in the process. They walked for 3 days over glaciers and mountains to a whaling station, and, eventually, the rest of his crew was rescued. Amazing story.

Dinner with the most amazing view

 

Day 3 video has a sunrise cruise through the Lemaire Channel, playful seals and penguins and cruising through Iceberg Alley.

Ekke Writes Day 4 - March 2

Enjoying the view of Cierva Cove before heading out in the Zodiacs

 


Out in the Zodiacs we were treated to spectacular whale sightings

 


 

Cute chinstrap penguin

 
A waddle of chinstrap penguins

 
An increasingly less rare sight in the Antarctic; grass

 


Argentinian Primavera Base

 


A humpback whale "logging" or sleeping

Audrey looks ready for the Polar Plunge

 
The heated pool on board probably doesn't qualify us for the Polar Plunge certificates...

 
Our cabin neighbour and fellow Antarctic Cruises customer takes the Plunge

 
I doubt the Polar Plungers enjoyed the view

 
A raft of penguins swimming by the ship

 
To move faster they porpoise gracefully through the water

 
Thar she blows!

Spert Island seen from the Ocean Endeavour as we approach

 
Cruising the canyons of Spert Island in the Zodiacs

 


Entering the "Washing Machine", fortunately set on delicate cycle


Simply stunning

 


Must be a chinstrap penguin out all by itself

 
Looks like a pretty brave snowy sheathbill walking in front of a leopard seal

 






Ekke looks ready for a hot chocolate

Humpback whale off the stern on the port side

 
This snow petrel kept circling the Ocean Endeavour, entertaining us and Jimmy the ornithologist

 
A few penguins on the lower left of the iceberg

 
A rookery of penguins takes over this iceberg

 
Day 4 video has sleeping whales, a chinstrap takes the plunge, we take a plunge, others taking the Polar Plunge and a ride through a washing machine.

Audrey Writes Day 5 - March 3

The Ocean Endeavour cruised to Deception Island the next morning, March 3rd, the captain navigating through narrow Neptune's Bellows to Whaler's Bay. The island is one big volcanic caldera, filled with sea water with a break in the land wide enough for The Ocean Endeavour to sail through. Our Zodiac cruise took us out the narrow straight and around the outside of the island. As we looked up at Neptune's Window lookout, we spied a lone penguin sitting high on a cliff, moulting - it's amazing how high the penguins can climb. A helicopter flew by and there was a huge ruckus as hundreds of chinstrap penguins scrambled up a hill, alarmed at the noise. As the Zodiac cruised by the beach, we saw a new species of seal that we had not yet seen - elephant seals. The males of the species were absolutely enormous, yellowish-brown in colour, with a number of females all around, their harem. What an interesting-looking bunch, their distinctive long, curved snout resembling a - you guessed it - elephant's trunk.

Entering Deception Island through Neptune's Bellows can only be done in good weather

 
Out for a Zodiac cruise around Deception Island

 
Neptune's Window from the Zodiac

 
These poor penguins seemed terrified by a helicopter flying by

 
Elephant seals

A walk on the beach was more like a slog as it was covered with thick, black volcanic silt. Staying close to the water's edge gave us a bit more grip, but we had to watch that we didn't step on tiny jellyfish that had washed up onto the beach. We also gave the potentially aggressive fur seals a wide berth as they climbed up out of the water and playfully wrestled their way up the beach, oblivious to us strangers in yellow parkas. A steep hike up to Neptune's Window lookout afforded views of the volcanic caldera with three small volcanoes on one side and the Zodiacs cruising in the bay down below on the other. Remnants of the former 1900s Norwegian whaling station were everywhere, including whale bones which were, back in the day, processed by being crushed, the oil extracted by centrifugal force. Old metal buildings and rusting ship hulls also remained, and Jonathan Shackleton showed us photos of the former whaling station and British survey base that was abandoned when there was a volcanic eruption in 1967.

Walking on Deception Island through deep volcanic gravel

 
Interesting animal life washed up on shore

 
A seal relaxes on the remnants of a whaling boat

 
The Ocean Endeavour inside the semicircular Deception Island

 
???

 
Fur seals playing off shore

 
The eerie remnants of the whaling operations

After lunch, our afternoon excursion to Half Moon Island started with a walk up some rocky slopes, past some beautiful glaciers lit up by the spectacular sunshine. On our guide's walkie-talkie we had heard someone excitedly reporting that 'Kevin' had been spotted further up on the cliffs, and we wondered who Kevin was. It turns out that living among a colony of thousands of chinstrap penguins was a single macaroni penguin, christened with the name, 'Kevin' by the staff. We walked in the direction of a crowd of people that had formed on the hill, past some lazy Weddell seals to where they were gathered, all trying to get a glimpse of the special penguin. Jim, an ornithologist, gave instructions as to how to find Kevin, in his hilarious Irish brogue. He gave me some binoculars and eventually I saw the distinctive yellow tufts of feathers of the crested macaroni penguin sticking up among all the penguin heads. I officially declared it the cutest penguin species of them all. And the superzoom camera came in handy once again.

A different carving every day on the buffet

 
Hiking on Half Moon Island

 
Where's Kevin?

 
There he is!  The lone macaroni penguin amidst the chinstraps

 

On the hike back to the beach we got to experience another of those 'National Geographic' moments. A group of fellow passengers was looking up and pointing at something interesting going on up the rocky slope, and when we looked in that direction we saw some movement and realized it was a giant skua bird eating something. The word 'eating' is really an understatement as it was literally tearing apart another feathered creature with its beak and claws. There was no mistaking the black and white feathers of the prey, the body partway through the moulting process - it was a small chinstrap penguin. I didn't realize that penguins had such an enemy as the skua. Some baby skuas nearby had a good feast that day.

A skua takes down a penguin

Our Zodiac cruise with our guide, Franny, took us around Half Moon Island. On the walkie-talkie we heard that a leopard seal had been spotted here earlier, and, right on cue, a leopard seal swam by. The boat cruised by some huge glaciers including one shaped like a turtle's head, that was so precariously perched that it looked like it could calve off at any moment. We waited for a while, but there was no glacial calving to be seen. Further along we watched leopard seals sprawled out on the beach, resembling big slugs. One seal slithered off the beach and swam toward the Zodiac. I wondered how close it would get, so I filmed it, surprised that it got closer and closer, and at the last second it dove under the boat and out the other side. What a fantastic finale to the last Zodiac cruise of our trip, capped off with another amazing sunset that evening.

Cruising around Half Moon Island with Franny

 


As we cruise in the Zodiacs the next group tries to spot Kevin




That just looks so ready to fall into the water, but not while we were there

 
A leopard seal comes to investigate us

 
Krissy, wearing the penguin toque, must be worried that the leopard seal could make a mistake...

 
Oh, not another bunch of tourists...

 
Sunsets last forever in the Antarctic

 
Day 5 video has Nepune's Bellows, a walk on Deception Island and a playful seal.

Ekke Writes Return across the Drake Passage

Foglights pierce the darkness as we cross the Drake Passage northbound

Land ho!  Cape Horn

 
It feels a little less isolated now that we are in the regular shipping lanes

 
The happy adventurers

 
Everyone is on deck for Cape Horn

 
The sculpture is a negative image of a petrel

 
Back in Ushuaia and our luggage is lined up on the dock

 

Chapter 14: Argentina to Buenos Aires

Ekke Writes

Museo Maritimo y del Presidio de Ushuaia


A mock-up of a tiny cell

 
A sharp eyed guard keeps track of all the prisoners

 
Ekke makes good his escape

 
That's it, after 8 months of going south we finally turn north, in the direction of home

Entering Chile on Tierra del Fuego, just 30 km of construction

 
Brand new concrete highway

 
Taking the ferry off Tierra del Fuego

 
Rio Gallegos tonight and Capital Federal (Buenos Aires) after we pick up the motorbikes

Cold, wet and windy.  Nice to be in our little up!

 
Flash flooding in Tres Lagos turns the streets into muddy rivers

 
Our VW up! is stopped by a muddy Ruta 40

 
Driving west towards El Chaltén

 
Mount Fitzroy wearing a crown of clouds

Fueling up the up! as we left El Chaltén

 
Fresh snow only a few hundred metres above the road

 
Must have been chilly for these Bolivian bikers

 
Guanacos enjoying a roadside snack

 
I think Audrey would rather be back in the car

 
Replica of Magellan's ship in Puerto San Julián

 


This fighter jet pilot recorded three "kills" in the Falklands War

Driving north along Ruta 3 back to Comodoro Rivadavia

Back on the bikes!

Taking the parcels to the post office (still smiling because we don't know the bill yet)

Stop half an hour out of Comodoro Rivadavia to remove the peaks from the helmets

 
A flock of rhea along the side of Ruta 3

 
Gas stations are far between in Patagonia, better stop

 
Ty Gwyn Casa de Te (yes, a Welsh tea house in Argentina)

 
Even though it is "pie day" (March 14) we're having cake and sandwiches

 
View from the top floor of the Dazzler Hotel in Puerto Madryn

Low tide in Puerto Madryn

 
Audrey outruns a whale

Happy to be in a car again

 
Hmm, a sea lion colony

 
With sea lion pups

 
Oh, wouldn't that make a nice light snack for an orca?

 
The local guanacos aren't too bothered by the orcas

 
An armadillo tries to hide

 


Audrey and the burrowing Magellanic penguins

 
How do they dig their burrows?

 
What the heck?  Jackalopes?

 
Oh, this is one odd creature

 
Fortunately the visitor centre had a poster

 
And this is what an orca snacking on a sea lion pup would have looked like

North across Patagonia with our invisible nemesis, the wind

 
Yummy Queso y dulce for lunch

 
Nice beach at Las Grutas

The last of the Patagonian countryside slips beneath our wheels

 
We enter the pampas with actual trees!

Gran Hotel Provincial in Mar del Plata

 
How could we possibly afford this luxury hotel?

 
Off season rates means there is lots of room on the beach too

 

Riding out of Mar del Plata

 
A highway named after a world famous racing car driver?  This should be a quick trip.

 
Entering Buenos Aires

Audrey Writes

Riding into the city of Buenos Aires on March 21st, 2017, I was struck with the enormity of the place, the heavy traffic, horns honking, and so many pedestrians. But what stood out the most were the grey-stone historic buildings, lining every avenue, some elegantly crumbling, all of them decorated with intricately-carved details. What a thrill to look down one street and catch a glimpse of the iconic Obelisk, a famous Buenos Aires landmark, on our ride to the hotel, and Ekke and I just looked at each other, laughing out loud in delight. We had arrived in one of the world’s great cities. Having pre-booked a hotel on Expedia made life easy, and when we got there we were shown to the underground parking, accessed by a steep ramp with slippery, freshly painted yellow lines, making it an adventure to navigate. No one (ie, me) dropped a bike, however. It was the perfect place to park bikes for the unknown duration of our stay, unknown because we had a few errands to take care of here. Our hotel window afforded a view of of a beautiful city square, its loveliness only marred by the construction of a new underground parking lot below the square. The Obelisk Square, Plaza de la Republica, was within walking distance, and we arrived there right at dusk, crossing 8 of the 16 lanes to get to the huge statue. I'm pretty sure that this was the longest pedestrian crossing we’ve ever done in our world travels. The Obilesco was built in 1936 to commemorate 400 years since the city’s first foundations were built.

Plaza del Congreso from our Ibis hotel in Buenos Aires

 
Congreso de la Nacion Argentina

 
Instantly recognizable Obelisco in the middle of the 16-lane Avenida 9 de Julio

 




Avenida 9 de Julio made for some cool car watching

On our walk to downtown the next day there was a huge ruckus, a bunch of protesters walking down our street, carrying banners that had something to do with education, chanting and sounding air horns. The area of the city we were in was ground zero for protests as the Congreso building, the legislative seat of the government, was at one end of the park. Dodging angry protesting teachers, probably demanding smaller class sizes, we crossed the street through the crowd and we gingerly tiptoed on crumbling sidewalks. How did the stiletto-wearing locals navigate this? Our goal was to see a doctor at the private Hospital Britanico so that Ekke could book an MRI and I could get my foot x-rayed after crashing my bike a month earlier. Even though health care is free to all in Argentina, even tourists, we discovered that we could pay a bit for faster service.

We soon came to realize that Plaza del Congreso was the starting or ending point for a lot of marches

 
Audrey thinks about joining the march for public education

The local Rodi Bar was a great place for lunch, the seafood-stuffed tomato delicious, but it was our first experience with a cubierto or cover charge. The bill came with an extra 60 pesos tacked on, about $6.00, and when we asked the server what it was for, he pointed at the cutlery and napkins. Really? Were we supposed to eat it with our hands? After that we watched for restaurants with the “No Cubierto” signs. Cemeterio Recoleto was within walking distance, so we had a pleasant afternoon meandering around the impressive tombs. We only had to follow the crowds of tourists to find Eva Peron’s final resting place, and it was quite a modest tomb, considering the fame she had attained in her life, working her way up from a small-town waitress to a national icon and snappy dresser as the wife of President Juan Peron.

Cemeterio Recoleto

 
That's a familiar name

 
Managed to get a photo of Eva Peron's memorial through the crowds

 
A beautiful cemetary with incredibly ornate tombs

Museo de Bellas Artes was housed in a gorgeous, sienna coloured historic treasure of a building. What a thrill to gaze at paintings and statues, surprising ourselves by identifying a Van Gogh here or a Rodin there, before reading the info cards. Lovely Monet pastels, Degas’ ballerinas and Gaugin’s Tahitians rounded out the impressionists, and it felt like we were in Paris. A display by a local artist, Xul Solar was a riot of colour in an animation-like style, and we just sighed as we took in the beauty all around us.

The always helpful Audrey
 

Museo de Bellas Artes with a fantastic collection of world class art (like this Rembrandt)

 
Rodin

 
Van Gogh

 

After a pleasant stroll up Alvear Street with its huge, ornately decorated mansions, past the Teatro Colon, we finally had a chance to check our email at dinner, at the Cafe Metro Bar, to see if the doctor had gotten Ekke an MRI appointment. It turns out that the appointment was for that afternoon, and we had missed it, floored that it would happen so soon, just hours after seeing the doctor. At home, one could wait weeks or even months for non-emergency MRIs. We emailed the doctor to rebook the appointment, and once again he said he’d contact us by email, the next day.

Teatro Colon

So, the next day we stayed close to places with wifi, starting at historic Cafe Negro with its wooden decor and fancy porcelain teacups, and then to Starbucks because we didn’t want to get charged for loitering at the tea place. Fortunately (or unfortunately), Starbucks had the most reliable internet and we could sit there for ages, as long as we kept buying our lattes and chais, so it became our go-to internet spot, especially for catching up on writing the website. For lunch we grabbed a couple of sandwiches and sat in a lovely park, the shady trees a brief respite from the hot, bustling downtown streets. In our third cafe, Havana, Ekke finally got the email to go for the MRI right away. There was some confusion at the clinic as no one there knew who had set up the appointment, but it's amazing what forking over $200 will do and they got him in, no problem. I heard a loud humming sound of the MRI machine while I waited just outside the door, and ten minutes later Ekke was out. For about $20 I did get my x-rays, as well, from a very friendly technician and I was quite taken aback when she kissed me affectionately on the cheek and told me I was a good girl after the procedure. I’m not sure if she was just practising her English or if it was just standard procedure. The broken bone in my foot, however, was healing nicely.


Wandering around the next day, Monday, March 24th, the streets seemed eerily empty and we noticed that stores were closed up tight with garage-type security doors pulled down. Even McDonalds was closed. After finding internet, we realized it was the Truth and Justice national holiday, a day of remembrance of victims of the Dirty War in 1976. Back at Congressional Plaza near our hotel, where we had seen regular protests almost every day, it was astonishing to see it absolutely chock-a-block with even more protesters carrying banners and cardboard cut-outs of missing loved ones.They were marching to Plaza de Mayo so we joined in. As we were walking I saw a man drop his wallet so I picked it up and gave it back to him, expecting him to be very thankful. He just threw it to the ground. I was flabbergasted but quickly realized that he was probably a pickpocket who had just taken out the cash and was throwing the wallet away on purpose. Sheesh. Ekke checked that he still had his wallet, and yes, he did. The march moved through Plaza Republica, along Ave. De Mayo and we wandered amidst groups of people blaring horns, throwing firecrackers, waving banners, singing and shouting. The streets were too crowded to walk on without getting jostled about, and at one point we could not move, like, literally not move in any direction. It was actually a bit scary. Ekke and I had to push our way to a side street, while getting shoved from the opposite direction, and we felt relieved to be out of the crush of protesters. Circumventing the crowd, we made our way to Plaza de Mayo, where there were some speeches in the same square where the Perons had given their speeches from the Casa Rosada building. I could just envision Madonna, as Eva Peron, singing, “Don’t Cry For Me, Argentina” from that pink balcony. Cue the “Evita” soundtrack.

Another day and another march on Plaza del Congreso

 
This march was in memory of the 30,000 people missing during the Dirty War of 1974 to 1983

 
Stopping traffic on Avenida 9 de Julio

 
Casa Rosada on Plaza de Mayo

The Kirchner Cultural Centre was nearby, housed in an old post office building, with a beautiful metallic floating concert hall. It was a relief to wander through at our own pace, away from the hordes of people on the streets below. A gaucho photographic display was so interesting to walk through, with the magnificent horses, cool-looking chaps and big hats reminiscent of our Alberta cowpokes. Modern art featuring Argentinian popular culture was housed in several different galleries, with some very thought-provoking pieces. This was definitely ranked among the most modernist modern art we’ve seen in our travels. Our day ended with a moonlit walk to Calatrava’s Puente de Mujer pedestrian bridge over the canal followed by some amazing empanadas.

A floating concert hall and art gallery in the Kirchner Cultural Centre

 
Some very modern art

 
The art gallery had a wonderful gaucho photographic exhibit

 


The Calatrava designed bridge, Puente de Mujer, makes for a nice moonlight stroll

After seeing her famous balcony the day before, we were curious about Eva Peron’s life, so we took the subway to the Palermo district and found Museo Evita. The converted mansion was once a refuge for homeless women and children, a cause close to Evita’s heart, and through videos, photographs, books and artefacts, the museum told the story of her life as a rising Argentinian heroine. Known for her sense of fashion, it was fun to gaze upon her elegant gowns, hats, shoes and jewellery on display, and ponder it all in the adjacent leafy garden cafe afterwards.

Outside Museo Evita

 
No photographs allowed past here

After a lazy day of just working on the website, we decided to plan the remaining five months of our trip, spreading out our big map on a wooden table at Starbucks. There were so many possibilities, like riding to Belem and boating up the Amazon or riding to Porto Velho and backtracking through Peru and a few other countries or doing a loop of Brazil and then flying the bikes home. One decision we did make was to try to include Paraguay in our plans, so we got the application forms from their consulate, not far from the MRI place. The visas would take a few days, so we did more sightseeing, taking a subway to the Casa Rosada museum. The museum was underground, utilizing the foundations of an old fort, and showcased the history of how the city grew with artefacts of past presidents, city councillor robes, desks, keys to the city, old carriages, and a portrait of Juan Peron and Evita. Cobbled streets took us past a quaint 15 block souvenir and street market. It felt so European here.

Changing of the guard at Casa Rosada

 
Inside the Casa Rosada museum

 




Lively street market off Plaza de Mayo

 

While still waiting for the visas, we visited La Boca, a neighbourhood with colourful buildings and sidewalk tango dancers. It was super touristy, but it did have historic roots in that the Italian dock workers who lived here were so poor that they used scraps like sheet metal to build their houses, painting them with leftover paint which gave them the patchwork coloured appearance. So, it was very interesting to wander among the colourful buildings and then pay way too much at a tourist shop for our Pope Francis fridge magnets. Bombanero Stadium was also in the area, where the futbol Boca Juniors play, but unfortunately there were no games scheduled in the near future. We'll have to come back sometime for a game. Sitting in the elegant London City Cafe back in San Telmo, we sipped tea and wrote postcards. We were more than a little surprised when the postmaster at a nearby post office told us they would cost $50 to mail. What is it with expensive postage in Argentina? There was nothing for it but to pay (Hope you enjoyed your postcards, you guys).

Tango in the Metro

 


Colourful La Boca neighbourhood

 
Writing postcards at the London City Cafe

After paying $150 US each for our Paraguay visas the next day, we were told to return before 3:00 p.m. to get them, which was perfect as were were planning to leave BA the next day. We wandered to the imaging centre to get Ekke's MRI scans which they’d put on a disk that he could take to the doctor and by the time that process was finished, realized it was 2:59 pm. I ran to the Paraguay visa office, a block away, and was so disappointed to find the door locked. A girl coming out of the building asked what I wanted and very kindly went back in and got Daniel, our visa guy, who said that the documents were not ready due to a consular emergency. I told him that we were leaving BA and going to Uruguay the next day, and I must have looked so disappointed that he said to come back in an hour. The visas were, thankfully, ready when we returned but mine had a letter attached saying the visa number didn’t match the receipt number because of the consular interruption, whatever that means. Hopefully this wouldn’t cause us problems at the Paraguayan border. Ekke took his MRI scan on the disk to Dr. German Garabano who examined him and gave ideas for physiotherapy that he could do himself. Our hotel was very close to the Revolucione Cafe so we went there for our last evening in Buenos Aires. There were photos of revolutionaries like Che and Gandhi and photos of women in white scarves, the mothers of some of the 30,000 missing of the Dirty War.


The ride out of town the next morning, March 30th, was fairly easy, mostly highway, and soon we were riding in the countryside, past stilt houses and parillas or steak shacks, wetlands, on a high bridge over the Rio Paraña, in the direction of Uruguay.

Leaving Buenos Aires

 
Lunch time!

 
About to cross the Rio Paraña into Uruguay

 
Map of our route from Ushuaia to Buenos Aires  

Chapter 15: Uruguay

Audrey Writes

The tiny country of Uruguay, situated between Argentina and Brazil, was a lovely surprise, with its historic and modern architecture, gaucho culture, friendly people, pleasant riding and of course, OXO cubes.

On March 30th, 2017, Ekke and I rode out of Buenos Aires, he on his BMW R1200 GS Adventure and me on my BMW F650 GS Twin. The landscape was quite idyllic and perfect for motorcycles, with brilliant green farmers’ fields and picturesque wetlands. The border crossing into our 78th country was fairly straightforward, exiting Argentina by crossing through the Argentinian border control area, paying a 25 peso ($5) toll to cross the bridge over the Rio Uruguay and getting our passports stamped at a drive-through border-control booth. The final step was completing paperwork for our temporary import vehicle permits for Uruguay (good for 365 days - you never know), and then we just rode away. The Gran Hotel just up the road in Fray Bentos, found on Expedia the night before, was right by the river. After a dinner of lentil stew (me) and cannelloni (Ekke) we wandered along the tree-lined malecon. This looked like the after-dinner thing to do, an activity popular in all the other South American countries we’d been to, and we saw many people out strolling the river-front, enjoying the warm spring evening. Benches were strategically placed, perfect for the locals to sit and pour their hot maté from thermoses into decorative wooden cups, using a bombilla or spoon-like straw to sip the hot, bitter tea.

The bridge over the Rio Uruguay

 


Riverside at Fray Bentos

The Museo de Revolucion Industrial was on our must-see list as it was a UNESCO World Heritage site, so after checking out of the hotel the next morning we rode the few kilometres out of Fray Bentos to have a look, not exactly sure what we'd find there. Parking outside the museum with fully loaded bikes seemed secure enough, and we made sure that the duffel bag was attached with cable locks. A 10:00 AM Spanish guided-tour had just begun and our guide, Nicholas, kindly explained things in English for us. A fellow tourist noticed Ekke’s Canada T-shirt and after explanations on both sides we discovered that she was from Montreal and lived in Montevideo for part of the year with her Uruguayan husband and son. Small world.

 
Loading Docks

The museum was so interesting. It was a former meat processing plant where 1500 head of cattle, mostly from Uruguay, but sometimes from Argentina or Bolivia, were slaughtered each day. Ships from England used coal or steel for ballast and then exchanged it for meat products like tins of corned beef for the return trip. An electrical room had huge, historic machines with pulleys and crank shafts, complete with marble floors that did not conduct electricity, a safety feature in case of malfunctioning machinery. There was, however, a steel-tiled floor outside the factory, which one would think wouldn’t be that safe in a lightning storm.

Information panels set up in the entrance

 
OXO cubes were a staple for the war effort

 



 
A giant vat for cooking the meat products

 

(Vegetarians skip to the next paragraph) We learned that, after the slaughter, the fresh beef was sold or canned as corned beef and then every other part of the cow, “except the moo,” was boiled in huge vats, where 32 kilograms was condensed to 1 kilogram of a gelatinous substance. Products like OXO cubes were made from this goo and as it still maintained a lot of nutrients it made for a very useful “food” for British troops in WWII.

A technological university, built to UNESCO standards looked historic on the outside but was modern on the inside and was built next door to the factory, a boon to the locals as their children would not have to leave the region for higher education. The museum showing where the administration of the factory took place featured wooden desks, historic typewriters, period telephones and other cool gadgets. Our guide told us a story of one of the office staff, a two-metre tall man who had worked at a cramped desk for 43 years and with the incessant rubbing of his feet had worn a couple of grooves into the hardwood floor. Ekke was pleasantly surprised when we were taken to an adjacent car museum where we could sit in some fascinating automobiles like a BMW Iseta or a Nazi-era car which was one of only 24 made in the world. Who knows how it ended up here?

Auto museum at Fray Bentos

 

Our ride on the highway along the Rio Uruguay by flat, green fields was very pleasant, and we stopped in Mercedes for empanadas and our first gasoline fill-up in Uruguay. It was a bit of a shock at $2.15 per litre. Ekke found a smaller road by looking at a map on the wall and a local confirmed that it was “pavimento” with a few potholes. It was fun riding the charming, hilly road. After stopping in Carmelo to get some Uruguayan Pesos at the Scotiabank - yes, weird to see a Canadian bank here - we had a cold drink in a lively plaza. A man on a nearby bench was selling jewellery and he looked like he could use some customers, so I went and struck up a conversation with him. He had come all the way from Venezuela which as you know, is experiencing hard times. So, I bought a few trinkets from him and he was very thankful. Our destination, Colonia del Sacramento, was a historic town and tourist hotspot and, as all the hotels in town were fully booked-up we accessed our Airmiles and lucked out with the Sheraton Hotel, just outside of town. When we arrived we asked where we could park the bikes and the front desk clerk was very surprised that I had ridden there on my own motorcycle. Why are they never surprised that Ekke rode there? Taking advantage of the lovely pool, we got a bit of exercise doing a few laps, followed by dinner in a fancy restaurant where we got away with being dressed very casually, as motorcycle world travellers do.

CIBC card didn't work at the Scotiabank but fortunately the Bank of Montreal card did

 
Audrey buys souvenirs from a Venuzuelan

 
The Sheraton at Colonia del Sacramento

It’s the little things that one remembers and having real bacon on the breakfast buffet the next morning (advantages of an American Hotel) was one of those things. It must have been a while since we’d had bacon and it was a treat to enjoy some familiar, North American foods. The weather that day was hot and sunny and the options of taking our motorbikes or complimentary bicycles into town were not that palatable, so we opted for an air-conditioned taxi for the few kilometres into Colonia del Sacramento.


Our trusty Lonely Planet Guidebook (no, we don’t have shares in the company - maybe we should) took us to the highlights of the historic colonial town, some of it built in 1680 by the Portuguese, and later rebuilt by the Spanish, going back and forth between the two powers, depending on who was winning which war. At Plaza San Martin it was pretty cool to look out over the wide Rio de la Plata, really an ocean inlet meeting the river, and see skyscrapers in the distance - Buenos Aires! So close, only 50 kilometres away yet we had ridden 500 kilometres to get here because we had to cross way upriver where it was narrower. Puerto Viejo was an old port brick building with a variety of boats in the harbour. At the wooden Bastion del Carmen statue a young tourist whom we dubbed “Miss Colonia 2017” was getting a friend to take her picture while she tried out various poses, and eventually we got our turn for our own poses. The historic quarter of Colonia is a UNESCO World Heritage Site, and we strolled the narrow cobblestone streets, walking under the Porton de Campo, a stone city gate with huge chains, which didn’t budge a centimetre when I pulled on them.

Buenos Aires across Rio Plata

 
Colonia del Sacramento

 


Audrey opens the gates to the old town

Calle de los Suspiros or Street of Sighs was perfectly picturesque, possibly named after (take your pick) criminals, sailors or prostitutes. A popular tale is that a young woman died there, sighing as she called her lover’s name while she took her last breath. Walking on those rough cobblestones was an adventure in and of itself, causing many sighs as we tried to avoid a twisted ankle, and I couldn’t imagine riding a motorcycle on this street. Purchasing a museum pass made the most economic sense and we then tried to see as many museums as we could in a short time period to make the pass worthwhile. Museo Municipal had ancient tools, weapon points, prehistoric animal fossils and a 3D map of Colonia in historic times. Casa de Nacarella was a small house from the colonial period with antique furniture and a stone kitchen with some really short doors that Ekke always enjoys. But this picturesque town was really meant for strolling, past crumbling stone buildings that had more character because they were not restored, the historic lighthouse ruins, Plaza de Armas with its foundations of old structures and the Cathedral del Sacramento in all its glory. What struck Ekke is that the town seemed to be one big outdoor car museum, as there were so many historic vehicles just parked for anyone to see. If you’re ever in Buenos Aires, I would recommend this historic town as a very worthwhile day trip, a ferry-ride away.

Calle de los Suspiros

 


Casa de Nacarella

 



 
Wait, what?  ALF is still popular here?

 

On April 2nd we left lovely Colonia and rode to Montevideo, noticing that even on the road there were old cars and a lot of motorcycles enjoying the pleasant Sunday afternoon ride. Choosing a hotel with secure underground parking was a priority in the big city and we found one right along the Rambla, a walkway and social hub on the Rio de la Plata on the edge of the Atlantic Ocean. It was great for an evening stroll and families were out enjoying a walk by the crashing waves, maté cups and skateboards everywhere.

Lots of interesting vehicles in Uruguay

 
Entering Montevideo and riding along the Rambla

Ekke took the Buquebus ferry to Buenos Aires the next day for his flight to Calgary where he spent time visiting his family and getting his knee checked out. I opted to stay in Montevideo, which was an adventure for me as I would be by myself in a foreign country, for the first time ever. I jumped right into sight-seeing mode, however, and set a goal to see everything in the guidebook. First stop: The Palaeontology museum. It was chock-a-block with school groups and I felt a bit nostalgic for my teaching job for a moment, at least until I observed the harried teachers trying to herd groups of their noisy young charges around the museum. From the top window I could see Ekke’s water bus pull away from the dock, wondering what the next two weeks would be like without him.

Ekke takes the ferry to Buenos Aires for his flight home

I embraced my alone time by visiting museums like Artes Decorativos and Museo Andes, colourful neighbourhoods and parks and got to know the downtown area quite well, with its leafy plazas, neoclassical and Art Deco buildings and network of pedestrian malls. It was all within walking distance from the hotel, and I would choose a different cafe each day, trying local cuisine like beef and bean stew, fusion and international foods, reading or writing to pass the time. I felt quite safe being by myself in Montevideo - okay, once I walked through a lonely historic cemetery which felt a bit strange - but usually I felt quite at ease walking in most of the neighbourhoods.

Artes Decorativos

 
Audrey embraces the cafe culture of Montevideo

 
Architecture of Montevideo

 


A lonely cemetary

Cathedral Matriz at Constitucion Square is the oldest building, constructed in 1784 and it was beautiful inside, with high, vaulted ceilings and mosaic tiled floors. The city hall building, the Cabildo, had artifacts from Montevideo’s past, including historic maps. Casa Rivera, which housed the National History Museum was in an old colonial mansion and I learned about Uruguay through photographs, documents and artefacts, featuring Jose Artigas and his fight for independence from Brazil in 1825. A huge statue of this Uruguayan hero is the centrepiece of Independence Square.

Cathedral Matriz

 
Who doesn't love antique maps?

 
Palacia Salvo

 
A statue of Jose Artigas in Independence Square

Practical errands were easily accomplished in the city, even with my lack of Spanish skills, as many people spoke English. I managed to get a SIM card for my iPhone, which we had gotten unlocked before we left Canada and it was way cheaper than paying for roaming charges. I also decided to see how easy or difficult the process for getting a Brazilian visa was, and with the magic of the internet, easily found the Brazilian Embassy. I was guided through an online form on the office’s desktop computer, and I came back a day later to pick it up. No problem.

My hotel was totally booked for Easter so I moved to the modern end of Montevideo for a few days, with skyscrapers and air conditioned shopping malls, featuring many international shops. A lovely marina with a variety of sailboats was the perfect backdrop for daily strolls and the nearby Museo Naval was quite interesting with ancient canoes used by the Charrua native people and Uruguayan maritime memorabilia. It also featured a model of a German ship, the Graff Spee, that sank nearby in 1939. Perhaps that old car at the OXO cube museum had been recovered from this shipwreck?

Modern Montevideo

 
Museo Naval

 

I managed to figure out the bus transit system and made my way to El Prado Park for the Criolla or Gaucho Festival, a big event during Semana Santa or Easter week. It was like the Calgary Stampede, but on a smaller scale, and I felt right at home walking past booths with saddles, spurs and cowboy hats, all for sale. Instead of the mini doughnuts they had chirros stuffed with dulce de leche, a caramel sauce, and arts and crafts were sold in the pavilions. The grandstand show looked like it had just one event, but it was quite interesting. An unbroken horse was tied to a pole and blindfolded, a gaucho got on and then the horse was let loose in a frenzy of bucking. Meanwhile, announcers played guitar and sang funny songs about the gaucho, made up on the spot. As it was all in Spanish, I understood not a word, but the audience was enjoying it immensely. Only one ambulance had to be called when a fallen gaucho found himself on the ground with a horse on top of him. The stadium had an adjacent Botanical garden with lovely old buildings and tropical plants, which I was delighted to see thriving outside in this wonderful moderate climate.

Gaucho Festival in El Prado Park

 


A rider goes down

 
Botanical garden near the Gaucho Festival

A long walk up the Rambla on Easter Sunday morning took me to Ramirez Beach, a lovely stretch of soft sand, and an ocean-side park with lush plants covering cliffs, stone bridges stretched across the duck pond, the Faro lighthouse in the distance. As church and state are separated in Uruguay, Easter celebrations here were not a big thing. I looked in on a service at a Catholic cathedral and the celebration looked very much like what one would see at home.

A walk along the Rambla

 
Rameriz Beach along Montevideo's Rambla

 

A pleasant walk up tree-lined avenues took me to Tristan Narvaja street market with blocks of stalls containing veggies, CDs, clothes, shoes, household goods, antiques, cannabis and cannabis accessories. Fun Fact: Uruguay was the first country in world to legalize marijuana, in 2013. Which was the second country? Canada in 2018 (The Netherlands never legalized - it is just “tolerated” there). Back at the hotel MotoGP Argentina was on t.v. and I watched Maverick Viñales ride his way to motorcycle racing victory, knowing that Ekke was also watching at home in Canada.

Tristan Narvaja street market

 
Argentinean MotoGP on the TV

Uruguayans are passionate about art, and the quantity and quality of art museums was a testament to this. I really loved the National Museum of Visual Arts, featuring many Uruguayan painters and I stared in awe at Blane’s beautiful portraits of women in period dress, and Saez and Viale’s Impressionist works. Something I’d never seen before was quite cool: many of the pieces had a metallic detailed outline and braille writing on a stand in front of the painting for people with visual impairments to touch so they could get an idea of what the painting was all about. Accessibility to the max.

National Museum of Visual Arts

 

Finally the day came when Ekke was to return from Canada and I took a bus downtown, looking forward to meeting him and resuming our trip together. After a big hug, I took him to the marketplace for dinner. I was really looking forward to sharing with him, my Montevideo.

Ekke Writes

Easter in Airdrie with Mom and Dad

 
A short layover in Toronto before continuing to Santiago and then Buenos Aires

Ekke's name on the sign board at the taxi company assured a quick getaway

 
The Buquebus ferry docks in Montevideo

 
Almost back together!

 
Dinner for Two

Wow, that's for two?

Most intricate spurs ever?

 
Maté is a big part of the gaucho culture

 
Now those are fancy maté cups

 


Cool!

 
Maté at a construction site

 
What amazing mansions turned museums

 


Greek artefacts in the basement of a mansion

 


Spectacular theatre

 
At Palacio Salvo (tallest building in Latin America at time of construction)

 
Independence Square

 
Tour of Palacio Salvo

 
Now Palacio Salvo is a residential apartment building

 
The classic tango music (La Cumparsita) originated in Montevideo

 
Ekke checks out the tango scene on the 100th anniversary of La Cumparsita

 
Museo Andes chronicles the crash of Flight 571

 
Two of the rugby team managed to hike out for help

 


Checking out Touratech Uruguay

Heading east out of Montevideo

 
A Dutch overland vehicle on the way out of Montevideo

 
Riding along the Rio Plata

 
Stopping for a picnic

 
Audrey discovers that dolce de leche is delicious with a banana

 
Exploring small coastal roads

 
Entering Punta del Este

Exploring Punta del Este

 


Surfing Competition

 
Audrey decides to try it out too, getting a little more wet than she bargained for

 
La Mano is the right hand that matches Mano del Desertio in Chile

 
A Canadian totem pole in Uruguay

 
Those are delicious looking cappuccinos

 
A ride out to Casapueblo

 
Casapueblo is the home of famed artist Carlos Páez Vilaró

 
Build to resemble a local bird's mud nests

 


The artist's son was on the doomed Flight 571 into the Andes

 
Striking a dashing pose with Punta del Este in the background

A last photo of La Mano as we head out of Punta del Este

 
OK, what's this then?

 
A roundabout on a deadend road over a lagoon.  No, it doesn't make any sense to us either.

 
Riding through ranching country

 
First good wash since Peru!

Gaucho country

 
Still think it looks weird to see cattle and palm trees

 
A beach walk along Punta del Diablo

 

Ekke whips up breakfast in our apartment in Punta del Diablo

 
A ride out to Fortaleza de Santa Teresa

 
Built by the Portugese in 1762 and taken over by the Spanish

 




Audrey reprises her famous pose from Crac Des Chevaliers in Syria

 
Picnic along the seashore near Punta del Diablo

 


Botanical Park

 


The actual Devil's Point with smashing waves and surge channels

 
A day of walking on the beach as Brazil has a day of strikes

 
Map of our route  

Chapter 16: Brazil to Foz do Iguaçu

Y LA MUJER!

Chapter 17: Paraguay and the Pantanal

Chapter 18: Brazil

Chapter 19: Mexico City to Home