We managed to awake with the alarm ready to jump into the hot shower, no such luck! Down stairs and into the garage we went with the Doberman ready to pounce as well as having left a couple of surprises for Paul and I. He had pissed on my wheels and chewed Pauls tie downs that he had left hanging on the bike. Not a good start. The lady from reception left us to it, the dog started to get nippy again turning into a real pest. Paul had to get some more gear from the room and while he was away the dog made a move to give me another nip, I managed to spin it around and gave it a size 10 as hard as I could up the arse. Off it went with a whimper not to be seen again. Paul came back and asked where the pest was and was quite relieved to hear it wouldn’t be back in a hurry.
Paul had developed the runs during the night, not from the stance Parillado but that had added to something that was brewing the day before. He was a little grumpy to say the least after getting his tie downs chewed and having to clench the cheeks. We rode through the morning traffic and it was total chaos enveloped in a blanket of dust. We stopped to fill up with fuel formate upcoming journey then re entered the fray. Over the intercom Paul commented on how happy he was to have the light DR’s rather than a heavy BMW 1200 or similar as they were so manoeuvrable in situations such as these. A few minutes later we traversed a set of railway lines in an extremely chaotic and busy intersection or should I say I did, Paul went down having lost the front end on the slippery tracks. Luckily I had seen it happen and was trying to find a spot to park my bike so that I could go back and give assistance, not overly simple considering the location.
Paul was swearing down the intercom at the top of his voice deafening me with his abuse as he thought I wasn’t coming to help. I politely informed him I was trying to park! I managed to park the bike then started to come to his aid when a local, probably the only one that wasn’t laughing at the time as a quick look around had shown me this was the case, was helping him to pick up his bike. Fuel had begun to pour from the tank breather when the bike was down and had caused part of the stress, the other part due to total embarrassment I would say. Paul stood in the intersection checking his bike, I told him to just get on and ride to a more convenient place to do this as it was just a little busy and probably dangerous. In more of a mood then before Paul followed me from the scene of the accident.
As we rode out of the main city area I was having a quiet chuckle as I recounted what Paul had been saying about the bikes and then going down for the sixth time. I told him as much over the intercom and he quietly informed me that it was only four. Four on the trip but you had to add the two on the warm up ride in Australia was my answer to that. No one got hurt and it appeared the bike was ok so you had to see the funny side, probably lucky that he had just ejected the remnants of his bowel before the accident.
A short time later we stopped at a little shop so that I could buy something to eat and Paul could check his bike a little more thoroughly. I bought a couple of rolls and sat down on a bench to eat them, a couple of kids sat on the bench and shuffled a little closer in an exaggerated secretive but overt way and got a few laughs, Paul managed to get a couple of photos. I think his wounded pride was healing and he began to see the funny side as well especially as he confirmed no damage had been done and thankful that I had tactfully not taken a photo of the incident, although later in the day he thought it might have been a good idea. At the time I hadn’t been game!!!
Once we got way from Juliaca the terrain began to change and we climbed steadily in to the mountains. The hills were quite beautiful but neither of us took any photos as it would have been difficult to capture the essence of this beauty and we were enjoying the actual riding. Upon reaching the pass at Abra La Raya at an altitude of 4338metres we finally decided it was time to take a photo. A popular spot it is to take a photo as there were literally dozens of stalls and stall holder selling the very common artisanal products of Peru.
The road then took us through rolling hills and farm land closer toward Cuzco with us only stopping for me to take a photo of the giant Guinea Pig in Marngani.
Upon reading the outskirts of Cuzco I attempted to put the name of the hostal we had booked the night before into Maps.Me, not possible as it wasn’t in there or was the name of the street. It was close to the centre of the old city so we ended up following the signs there and hoped we could find a tourist information place then get directions. It was no fun driving in the traffic as all vehicles seemed tone belching masses of exhaust fumes and on motorcycles you taken it all in. It wasn’t long and we were very close to the centre as I could see domes of old Spanish churches protruding above their surrounding buildings. As I sat at the traffic lights I was wondering how we were going to find the hostal and if we would have a room as we were past the time we had indicated we would arrive, when I looked up and saw the name of the street we were looking for directly in front of us. We managed to turn right and headed up the street and with a little faffing around managed to find the address and ride the bikes into the courtyard. Got to be lucky sometime I guess!
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