Lima, the capital was my objective, it took 5 days of hard riding from the border to get there. 4 overnights on the way, forgettable cities, still trash everywhere… I can’t help it but this point alone makes me dislike Peru, it is too prevalent, children playing on monds of trash, it’s bound to make them indifferent adults as they grow in this sad environment, generational dirtiness acceptance, its sad. People are nice though, bad drivers for sure, but friendly when out of their cars, trucks, bikes and Moto taxis. As in Colombia, they take every inch they can to be ahead of you, me first is the attitude, every one want to pass me for no good reason, zigzagging between lanes and other vehicles, me me me… I swear internally, me the most courteous driver I know! I’m getting used to it and when I reach Lima I do the same just to show them that I can do it too!

I reached the Pacific Ocean at Trujillo and followed the coastal road all the way to Lima. Peru was reeling in the aftermath of a cyclone that inundated countless neighborhoods, devastating of course the poorest people tenements. Thousand of small houses made of mud bricks were destroyed, covered with feets deep of dirty mud. The same images on tv were shown on a loop, CNN style for days. The story of little Emir, saved by his father plunging in a river of mud was the talk of the country. This natural disaster happened a couple of days before my arrival in these parts, cleaning crews were everywhere I went. Huge bulldozers clearing mud and debris in low lying areas drove traffic to a halt many times a day, many crossings of muddy small, splashing thru rivers on the freeways, by the way, as in Colombia, motorcycles do not pay the tolls, cool… It was hot and humid and muggy but the ocean views were terrific. To top it all, an earthquake occurred in the north of the country, nothing happy to small talk about in hotels and restaurants, everyone glued to the tubes…

When I arrived in the huge city of Lima, more than 11 million people live there, America turned 20,000 kilometers old! Time for servicing her, I want to take good care of her! Found the Yamaha store, yes they can do it, full service, everything on the recommended list they promised, ready by 10am tomorrow. I looked for a hotel nearby, dropped the bags, came back to the friendly attendant who announced the price for this service: 827 soles, yikes! Almost 220 dollars, but what choice do I have? Ok then, see you tomorrow at 10 right? Uber back to the hotel and relaxing evening, Italian restaurant across the street, that’ll work. This is where I had the most disgusting house wine of my life, I had only 2 sips, throwingupable stuff, it’s a crime to sell this!

So the next morning, Uber back with all my bags as I want to get out of here as soon as possible, nothing of interest for me in this city, which is surprisingly clean of any litter, at least in the downtown area where I stayed. Apparently the government only wants to take care of the 3rd of its people, those who live in the capital and presumably vote… I arrived at Yamaha at the agreed upon time and… of course, America is not ready. I see her high up on a stand, the seat taken out and two mechanics working on her. I’m told to come back in an hour. I walk around the financial district nearby in search of a coffee shop, in vain for about 45 minutes in the hot sun, when O Joy! I happen upon a Starbucks! Yeah, coffee in Central and South America has been atrocious, disgusting instant powder everywhere, even in Colombia, the land of Juan Valdez right? Bullcrap! I’m so happy to cappuccino myself again! It’s time to trek back to the service center and, of course, I have to wait for another hour… O well, finally they bring her back, she’s glistening, so clean, they detailed her so well, I’m in shock, they even took out the rust from the nuts and bolts. It’s true that she was so dirty, the mud bath in Ecuador and all, well they did that right. The guy explained it took longer than planned because they promised me to clean the beast… And, first time ever, the estimate he gave me was a mistake, I actually paid 550 soles, that was unexpected, kudos guys! It’s all good and we’re happily on the road again, out of the huge city by 2 in the afternoon!

Now, my next goal is Machu Picchu and we’re out of Peru! But damn, it’s a huge and long country! It took 5 days of travel, not without memorable moments as I recall. Having left Lima so late, I still wanted to eat some mileage and drove furiously into the high desert.
Night time came and I was still in the middle of nowhere, only a few trucks every 10 minutes or so, and the gas gauge was flashing for quite a while now. I knew I had driven 35 km with the flashing gas light before and I had my reserve gas container in my pannier, a liter and a half… I was mentally doing math, so the tank contains 4.2 gallons, how much is that in liters! The range of this bike is what already ? Worse case situation, I’m sure some Good Samaritan would give me a little liquid life, but wait, trucks use diesel right? A car is bound to pass by at some time… 55 kilometers since the flashing, yikes, the desert was higher and higher and O Milagro! The lights of a small city appeared way down below, I can cut the engine and glide down to save gas, so I did. At the bottom a Pueblo, not the city I expected. A policeman in his patrol SUV was playing with his phone, I tapped on his window, yes there is a gasolinera 4 kilometers away. I hoped I could make it. And I did. So now I know I can drive at least 62 kilometers after the dreaded flashing light and not have to search for the reserve canister. I was so tired I slept at this dump of a hotel behind the gas station, hey at least it was real cheap!!

The next day, the scenery changed drastically. I was happy to see some greenery again. The desert disappeared and gave place to a long and windy mountain road. The past few days had been mostly straight lines, fast pace and sand everywhere, cool but kinda boring. This was definitely not boring, but my speed average decreased commensurately to the thousands of curves I had to negotiate. This crazy mountain keeps going up and up, what the heck? I’ve reached the clouds and pierced them, it’s now raining a cold and fine mist. I have to stop and change gloves, put on the yellow rain suit, I look like a helmeted fisherman.
It’s very cold, I’m trembling, I’m wetting through my third pair of gloves. I didn’t have breakfast at the hideous hotel, and there was no inspiring place for the past 3 hours I’m on this mountain. I feel light headed, nauseous, and all of the sudden I realize, Holy Berty! Altitude sickness just hit me! I’m breathing hard, I must stop soon… Fortunately I reached the top of the mountain and the road goes down, slick and still curvy, I go real slow for what seems an eternity. A side of the road place shows up, I stop. It takes for ever it seems for me to unmount, I enter the place, trembling, dripping, and incoherently ask the old descendant of the Incas if he has hot chocolate? No no but coffee, beurk! The thought of that almost makes me puke, sopa? I ask miserably. He seats me down and soon bring me this delicious mutton soup, with real sheep meat, its paradise. I gulped it down with delight and then eat some potato chips, cookies, whatever he sold there. I asked him what was the altitude there, he replied proudly and smiling ears to ears, 3,750 meters, I was wondering how much I descended from the top, I must have been at more than 4000 meters high, more than 13000 feet, jeez! We’re mostly jumping from planes at 12,500 feet I thought weirdly. I rested for an hour there waiting for the rain to stop, it didn’t…

I couldn’t stay there any longer, feeling better, but gloveless, I continued the descent for another hour and arrived at the small and charming town of Puquio, at a reasonable 3,214 meters of altitude. Planning ahead, I had started that very morning to take the altitude sickness pill I was to take 48 hours before the ascent said the instructions. Well, at least I had one in me, I didn’t die. I guess I am to continue the regimen of one pill every 12 hours until I’m back on the flat? When is that? I’ll have to Wikipedia all my future stops from now on… Anyway, Puquio was a nice resting place, the owner of the hotel I stayed in also had a general store next door, he sold me a pair of waterproof ski gloves for 7 soles, 2 bucks, a steal, I would have paid 4! A hot shower and a nap and I was good as new!

Abancay was to be my next stop, 306 km, 5 and a half hours, no sweat. And it’s sunny again, what luck! I averaged 45 kilometers an hour for the first two, climbing back again, and when I reached the top, there was this huge plateau, looking to infinity and beyond in all directions. And lamas, thousand of them, some lounging on the potholed road, mostly white but some red hair ones in the mist, probably alpacas, young and old, they were the first ones I saw on the trip, that’s made me happy, silly no? From the plateau, a long descent to a beautiful green valley, narrowly flanked by huge cliffs on both sides. I followed a river for ever, jumping from bank to bank, crossing bridges back and forth between sides, the whole way to Abancay. I made good time and arrived early enough to do my laundry and walk around the town named for the flower Lily, my baby’s name, good omen. The town motto is: city of the eternal spring, well I’ll be damned! It felt like it too. I’m feeling good and treated myself to a steak dinner in a fancy joint, the meat was tough and full of fat and nerves, I complained to the manager who had promised me a great meal when I entered, he comped my wine, this one was good, Cabernet Sauvignon from Chile, no more house wine for me, I learned my lesson…

Well it looks like I’m finally going to arrive to the promised land of Cusco tomorrow. At breakfast I booked my excursion to Machu Picchu, the real reason for me to cross the whole country of Peru, also it’s on the way to Brazil. I’m so happy there is availability, I choose the whole shebang, package deal with van from hotel to the station, train to the town of Agua Calientes, re van to Machu Picchu, entrance fee, and vice-versa to come back. It’s an all day affair, badabing badaboom, done and confirmed. One more riding day, onward America, almost there. And shit happens, again!

I stopped at this fruit stand half way to Cuzco (both spelling are okay), in a small farming village, you can smell the cow poop everywhere, but that’s fine and earthy. Anywho, I must say that I think that there is a flaw in the design of the Ténéré motorcycle. It is very high and if the spot where you intend to stop is not perfectly even or worse somewhat slanted in the wrong direction, then it is pretty unreasonable to rely comfortably on the effectiveness of the side stand. I learned that the hard way. I had parked the bike a few meters away from the fruit stand where I enjoyed a fresh mango, some peaches, bananas and avocado, I was smiling along with the baby boy of the owner as we were watching loose cows patrolling the road in front of us when a stupid trucker rolled around too fast on that’s lonely narrow highway. Startled, one of the cows mooed and took a step to the side probably cursing the truck driver, and in so doing pushed America, which I admit had parked quite precariously, but it was standing right?

Bang, it fell, on the same side, always the right side! This time, there was damage, the right turn signal had broken, pieces of orange plastic everywhere. A nice farmer neighbor helped me to right her up and that’s when I noticed brake fluid oozing out whenever I used the brake handle, which miraculously had survived the full impact this time… That was no good, I couldn’t use the front brake, again, until I got this fixed! I was exactly half way, 150 kilometers away from the Cusco hotel I had reserved for the next 2 nights. And there we go again, by now I must be the best motorcycle rider with no front brake in the world! That was a little hairy but I reached Cuzco by the early evening. I’ll pass on the details of looking for an open motorcycle shop that could fix that problem, but let’s say that it was a good miracle to have this young resourceful bilingual hotel clerk so nice and willing to help.
Half an hour after arrival, Victor from Moto Cuzco came by, picked up America and promised to have it fixed no problem, no matter what.

Happy to report that America is back in our stable, everything works, 200 soles did the trick, and she also got a good wash for the occasion. It’s amazing, it was unnecessary, but it’s a good story of resilience, luck and happy endings… It’s time to sleep, tomorrow the machu thing happens….