Back in Peru

ihana.com - big trip - diary - peru - july 2003

Winding along one side, then the other

Local buses

The border at Zumba

A Zumbarino?

Tuesday 22 - Wednesday 23 July

Shortly after leaving Vilcabamba the road climbed up into the rainy national park of Podocarpus. The surface turned to rough and stony dirt and in many places we could see where the whole hillside had slipped away and the road had had to be rebuilt. These landslides were recent, for sure in the last couple of months as the new surfaces didn't have that many tyre tracks on them. The road wound along the valleys, came to the head where a small bridge crosses the river, then winds all the way back along the valley again. Although the scenery is marvellous, being able to see the road on the other side of the valley but not being able to cross to it for another 30kms is frustrating, more so as the 30kms takes an hour at least, so windy and rough is the track.

We stopped for lunch in Valladolid, in a typical tiny restaurant where we ate for a dollar once the two teenage girls had calmed down from thinking we were pop stars and finally served us. Its a hard life being wicked.

After a long and tiring drive for what looks very short on the map, we arrived at the bridge straddling the border river. Zumba is just a collection of shacks on the Ecuadorian side, almost all of which pertain to the customs guys. Formalities were over in a couple of minutes and we drove across the bridge into Peru.

The current musical sensation in Peru is Axe Bahia, a group of 3 guys and 2 girls from Brasil who sing inanely catchy tunes accompanied by certain dance moves. For some reason Axe Bahia (pronounced ash-ay) don't exist in Ecuador (maybe they've got better taste) and we never heard them....we even started to miss it! To get to the point, as we drove across the bridge into Peru, the first thing we heard was a cd of Axe Bahia thumping out their familiar tunes and, of course, the first car we saw in Peru was a white Toyota Corolla estate.

Hapless search for the engine number

Riverside village

The customs guy turned out to be a bit thick. The landy registration document has the engine number listed as 'not known' (don't know why) and in all of the previous border crossings we've made, this hasn't been a problem. This time however, the bloke insisted on finding the engine number and writing it down. The real engine number is hidden under layers of ming somewhere on the block, not wanting to get too dirty we offered no assistance and let the customs guy, a policeman (in normal clothes) and a number of passers-by search for the mysterious number. After they called out various part numbers cast into the intake, the manifolds and whatever, they eventually happily settled for the part number stamped on the bottom of the sump! Errr, yeah, that's the engine number, no worries lads.

While we finished the paperwork, not helped by the customs guy not knowing that October is the 10th month, not the eighth, the surprisingly large number of locals outside started making a bit of a fuss. One guy with a donkey was very drunk and he was arguing with his wife until he punched her, she whacked him back and then the other women started joining in until the useless piss-head plodded off.

Once underway the road was a little smoother now and by evening we reached San Ignacio, a small town with a few paved roads, but more importantly, a paved road leading out of it. The next morning, after a breakfast of eggs and diesel fumes pumped into the restaurant by a parked lorry, we were on our way, passing rice fields and reaching the junction with the Chiclayo-Tarapoto (coast to jungle) road for lunch. The road was smooth apart from the frequent areas of collapse or previous landslides and we entered a deep, narrow, valley.

On the main road into the jungle

More excitable schoolgirls!

One of many cleared-up land slides

Climbing out of the valley to Chachapoyas

We took a right turn along yet another steep valley, leaving the tarmac behind and pounding along a terribly dusty and stony road alongside a meandering river. As seems to be the norm, we reached Chachapoyas just before dark. The main plaza was full of people, mainly dorises, some waving at us. We decided to head for a hotel and get cleaned up before having a stroll about. The receptionist doris was very friendly and arranged to meet us later with her mate but we messed up and were late, oh well.

 

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