Kiwis first into Bolivia

By about 1.3s! Everyone was very keen to get across the border from Peru to Bolivia as quickly as possible this morning. This could have been something to do with having spent the last 24 hours in limbo between the 2 countries. Most of the day was spent chasing paperwork or waiting under a hot sun in a dusty rison-like compound with dozens of trucks. Paperwork finally came through about 7pm but at the last minute we are told that we need to pay US$230 for our group. Much dissention and argument ensues, culminating in a revolt. All the mototaxis head to the gate to try the border without the paperwork that we are unreliably told is so vital. The authorities close the gates, locking in the trucks trying to leave as well. It is stalemate for a while. Eventually we decide we will pay as it with 10 teams it is only US$23 each and we manage to scrape up the cash between us. Five minutes later we are told that the border has closed and it is too late to cross into Bolivia.

The next morning we are understandably very keen to get across the border, but are not exactly hopeful. However, at 9:30am we are told that everything has been taken care of and to head for the frontier. In our way are dozens of trucks, but word is spread of what we are doing and an effort is made to clear our way. Ten mototaxis weave their way through the trucks, frustration being released through lighthearted jousting for position with each other. Our old convoy mates Mayan Harp get too close on our port side and burst our spare fuel can. Bloody terrorists! I suspect that leaking petrol all over the road may be a barrier to entering a new country so I ditch it. We keep waiting for officialdom to set in but suddenly realise that WE HAVE MADE IT TO BOLIVIA! And Famous Last Words has led the way! It feels very sweet to be on the road again and to be past the barriers that have killed the mototaxis dream of so many. We had to work hard for it (special thanks to Vilsava Victory) and it was no thanks to the Adventurists, whose bumbling efforts confused things and cost more money.

Tonight we are in La Paz and, unfortunately here our mototaxis adventure ends. Tomorrow we will have to drop our mototaxi off and fly to Asuncion to catch the first of a series of flights home. Mayan Harp are also finishing here as the extra days delay at the border was the final nail in the coffin for their plan of reaching Uyuni. Danny, the surviving member of Squadron 633 (it´s ok, Sasha isn´t dead, he´s just gone back to London) is also here but he is continuing on towards Asuncion. Good luck to him and to all the remaining teams.

We have enjoyed our time on our mototaxi and will be sad to leave her. Less enjoyable was all the waiting around due to organisational problems, which was the majority of the time. The mototaxi junket is a great idea, but it was spoiled to some extent by the administrative problems. Hopefully it can be rectified in the future. We are proud to have made it as far as we have, but also very disappointed as we know that we could have made it to Asuncion if the problems beyond our control has been sorted out.

I hope you have enjoyed reading these blogs. Don´t forget the cause that we are supporting, Operation Smile, which will be spending all the money raised in the Junket in South America helping South American children have better lives, filled with smiles. You can use the links above to donate. Thanks.

Is the Mototaxi Junket all over?

Is the Mototaxi Junket all over? After racing to Puno to try to catch up with other teams, we found a very sad sight. A garage full of abandoned mototaxis. The mototaxis we last saw a week or so ago charging proudly out of Huancayo with flags flying,  balloons (custom made airbags) wobbling and sporting all sorts of modifications now sat in row upon stark row, stripped down to the basics again. A few stickers here and there reminded us of the teams who we would not see again, as they had left Peru for home or other adventures. The mototaxi graveyard they called it, and our mototaxi was being added to their number.

The problem (again) is paperwork. No mototaxi has been allowed to leave Peru due to various disagreements about what is required. Updated paperwork has been promised regularly to the teams cooling their heels in Puno (sound familiar?) and many have now given up believing the promises and have left to make the most of their remaining time in South America. When we arrived on Friday the latest news was that no one would be able to cross into Bolivia until Monday morning. Also, any team wishing to get the necessary paperwork would need to pay a fee of US$100 to get out of Peru. No one seems to have thought about actually getting into Bolivia. Maybe they will charge us again on that side.

A finish line party has been organised in Asuncion but it seems unlikely that anyone will be there and the beer will quietly lose its fizz while the empanadas will go cold and greasy.

This left us with a tough decision. We could try to see a few things (Macchu Picchu, floating islands, Uyuni) or we could pay US$100 to get to Bolivia with only a couple of days before we need to find a way to Paraguay to catch our flights home. This means we will probably only get to La Paz, as there are only limited places we can leave our mototaxis or catch flights to Paraguay (by bus would take days). In the end we just could not leave our mototaxi, which has improved from being the runt of the convoy to being a solid performer (amazing what a bit of mechanical work can make; shame it couldn´t have been done before we got underway as promised).

We came here to drive across South America by mototaxi and to raise money for Operation Smile, not to sightsee. We are going on until the end, getting as far as we can before the final whistle goes. We won´t make it to Paraguay and that is hard to take, given that we feel that we could have made it if the event had been organised better.

So, Famous Last Words is one of the last teams left in the Junket. Tonight we are  in the border town of Desaguadero, ready to try our luck first thing tomorrow morning with 4 other teams (so far).

Just to fill in a few gaps, we sprinted from Abancay to Cuzco and then on to Puno, covering as many kilometres in 2 days as we had in the previous 4 days of driving. What a difference sealed roads made. Less hills also help. The drive to Puno was a bit boring actually, with straights going on for many kilometres. One odd thing I noticed was the dogs on the side of the road. They seemed to be spaced regularly (never 2 together), always on the same side of the road and not tied up. There was a bit of stock around so perhaps they sit there all day to keep them from straying.

We had a bit of fun coming into Puno. We had to find the hotel Pakara in order to pick up paperwork. I found the right street, but it was one way in the wrong direction and the streets were busy and the one way system confusing. Someone suggested we follow a taxi. I looked around and found a bicycle taxi. These are a bicycle with a seat attached at the front for a passenger. I knew we were only a couple of blocks away so I thought I would try this out. Climbing in, I asked him to take me to Hotel Pakara on Avenida Libertad, pointing out the mototaxis following.

He took a very round about route, but I thought it was just to get onto the street in the right direction. Then we started going all over the place. We got to a hill and he had to get out to push. The mototaxis had to pass, being incapable of less than 1km per hour without stalling. Somehow they kept on his tail as he took 3 consecutive left turns. I told him I wanted Hotel Pakara, not a city tour. It was obvious he didn´t know where the hotel was, but I expected him to at least find the right street. After 10 minutes of driving around he eventually got onto the right street. I made him stop and asked where the hotel was. Up there, I was told, back at the other end of the one way street! We were almost back where we starteed! It was about then that I lost my rag and was extremely frustrated that I didn´t know how to tell him where to stick his bicycle in Spanish.

Our next update will hopefully be from La Paz. Please keep the donations to Operation Smile rolling in. A big thank you to everyone who has donated so far.

Life on a Mototaxi

At 4:30am the alarm goes off. Our aim has always been to just throw on some clothes, pack up the mototaxi, get it warmed up (it takes about 10 minutes of running before it is ready for the road), and hit the road by 5:30am. It has happened once. Usually it is more like 6am. By this time it is light and driving conditions are good, with light traffic to get out of town.

Around 8 or 9am the hunger pangs are getting impossible to ignore. Either we eat yesterday´s leftover buns and fruit or we try to find a town for breakfast. We will often drive for an hour without seeing a village of any size, so sometimes our stomachs have to wait. The larger villages will have somewhere to eat, but it may not be breakfast as we know it. Stir fry steak and rice? How about a big lump of chicken on the bone? The other down side is that the meal will end up taking about an hour and time is precious given the distances we are driving each day. While it´s never on the menu, they will usually fry some eggs for us. Coffee comes without milk, which seems to be in short supply in the villages.

The morning drives have been the best for us so far. Traffic is light, the heat is not too oppressive and the morning light shows up the best of the scenery. We start the day in thermals, fleecies, woolly hats and jackets. As the sun rises in the sky and we descend down into canyons the layers have to be peeled off. My fashionable attire has been a blue long sleeve thermal top with the short sleeve Adventurist t-shirt (in bright green!) on top. Since we are generally only passing through the canyons and being air-cooled while riding, I generally have stayed in this all day. When I have had to get out and push at long altitude it gets pretty hot. Mind you, I am pretty fit at low altitude from all the pushing I have had to do at 4000m! At low altitude I am like the bionic man, grabbing 2 full packs and bounding up stairs!

Riding the mototaxi is a two person job. The driver is mainly in control, but the passenger rides the mototaxi around the corner like a bobsleigh, leaning into the corners to prevent all the weight going on the outside wheel. If the weight doesn´t shift enough it is a massive effort for the driver to get the mototaxi around the corners. Usually the sight of the mototaxi veering towards a cliff edge is enough motivation for the passenger to throw their weight around.

We have been travelling in convoy with Hombre Lobo (USA) and Mayan´s a Pint of Harp (N Ireland). It is always a pain travelling behind the Harp team as they have a big picture of a pint of beer on the back of their mototaxi and it always makes me thirsty. Travelling in a convoy can be a pain at times as you have to go at the speed of the slowest mototaxi. Some are slower uphill and some are slower downhill. You try to keep the mototaxi behind in sight and if you haven´t seen them for 5 minutes you need to wait for them. If they still don´t turn up you will need to go back to see if they have broken down. This is where you are really glad you are in convoy. If you have broken down it is great to have your mates come back to help.

Every hour or so we stop to let our engines cool as they get pretty hot climbing those mountain passes in 2nd gear. Apart from those and a short meal break, we pretty much ride all day. Most days we have been getting in around 6pm. By the time we find a hotel, see to our mototaxis (repairs or parking), have a shower (if there is hot water it is great to get the dust off your face and body - Andy from Mayan even prioritised it over a beer one day) and have a meal (easier said than done in smaller towns) we are ready to go to bed. Somehow this never seems to be before 10pm, so we are a bit short on sleep.

It is hard work. That said, we are having fun! I like to do things that are different and cruising through issolated andean villages and climbing up mountains is about as different as things get. When the mototaxi is going well (as it has been for the last couple of days), the sun is shining, to road is not too bad and you are waving at all the kids on the side of the road, life is good. The Peru tourist ministry has really bought into the mototaxi junket and have gotten the police on side. We get waved through checkpoints, shown around the barriers for toll roads and frequently get random people shouting encouragement to us. The mototaxi is pretty iconic to the ordinary peruvian (like the simple kiwi bach perhaps) and the idea of these mad foreigners driving these things halfway across the continent appeals to them. Mind you, they also think we are mad.

Crossing the Andes to Cusco

Well, we´ve done it.  We´re in Cusco.  It´s been an amazing week so far.  We´ve driven through dust storms, sun showers and lightning storms.  We´ve sweltered in hot valleys and shivered in alpine winds.  We´ve skimmed the peaks at 50km per hr (hey - that´s a lot for a 125 MotoTaxi!) with a magnificent view of clouds, the occassional bird and the Andes at our feet.  Then we wind down into the valleys, our sense of scale changing daily.  Only 900 meters to the bottom of the valley, we cry.  We´re almost there!

We´ve replaced snapped chains and fixed flat tyres and broken spokes.  We´ve progressed through small towns like royalty, waving to the laughing children (they were laughing with us - right?)

And now, here we sit in Cusco.  Word is that paperwork is still not available at Puno so we can´t cross the border to Bolivia.  Do we stay here and visit Macchu Picchu or head for Puno in the hope that the paperwork comes through?  Our time here is running out.  We all have flights to catch and real life to return to.

Decision time tonight I think.

Stuck in the Perumuda Triangle!

The two men leaning against a wall looked up as we approched in our bright yellow, completely out of place, mototaxi. ¨Abancy?¨ I asked, pointing the way we were going. ¨Si, Abancay¨they responded, pointing the same way. Abancy was our next desination and we were worried that we had taken a wrong turn, given that the road had gone from bad to awful. We crossed a narrow bridge and were confronted with a steep wall of broken rock that appeared to be the road. At that moment the Hombre Lobos team (one of 2 teams we are convoying with) appeared at the top of the slope, coming down the way they had come. A women had told them not to go this way. She had turned 3 mototaxis back yesterday as the road was closed. Instead we should go back a little way and take a detour back to the main road. As we trundled back past the two men I pointed in our new direction and sarcastically asked ¨Abancay?¨. ¨Si, Abancay¨ they replied, pointing once more the way we were going.

The next person we asked directions of told us that the road was fine and was not closed and that this was the best way to Abancay. The alternative route suggested by the woman looked like a paddock track. So, back we went past the 2 men, who were probably having their most exciting day in years, and attempted to climb the pile of rubble. Hobre Lobos blasted up at full power, but came to a halt at the top. Broken chain. The Mayan Harp team powered up and survived unscathed. Our mototaxi does not seem to have the power uphil of some others, so I pushed will Rachel gave it full throttle. The next few seconds happened in slow motion as the mototaxi bouned around unpredictably will I ran beside pushing. Usually I find the slow motion thing happens just before someting that really hurts. In this case I am sure that it helped me dodge the lurching mototaxis as it tried to headbutt me a couple of times. We made it to the top before I collapsed gasping. We were at a mere 3000m, but this was pretty extreme exercise.

While we fixed the chain a couple of peasent women gathered, and they told us not to follow that road as it was really bad and our mototaxis would not make it. Instead we should take this turn to the left, which would take us to the main road, past some road works which was going on. Off we set, down another farm track. We had lost a lot of time and would be lucky to make it to Abancay before dark. Rural Peru is not heavily populated, with villages perhaps every hour and most of these without accommodation. We needed to get some serious kms under our belts.

Of course, that didn´t happen. A few hundred metres on we found the local soft drink delivery man´s van stuck fast in a ford. We decided to stop to help him. Well, he was completely blocking our way. For the next hour or more we lifted the wheels and stuck stones under them, purshed, unloaded soft drinks, and did everthing we could to get him out of the mud. Meanwhile the local children had gathered and were mobbing Rachel. She was having a ball, but could not understand a word they said. Whenever Scott (who speaks some Spanish) or I tried to interpret they would get all shy and duck away.

Finally, finally, we got him free and were able to pass. Next we hit a road made of large sharp rocks. We had taken great care not to run over sharp stones thus far, but now we coudl not avoid them. Luckily it didn´t last long. After this we did a few boring things like ask for directions, get lost follwoingt them, ask again, get contrary advice, retrace our steps, and repeat. Whichever way we went, it seemed to be the wrong way. Eventually we decided that it would be too dangerous to go to Abancay that day, as we would be driving unknown roads (off the map!) at night.

What we did eventually find, quite unexpectedly was a beautiful lake, with people picknicking on the well kept shore. Many bars, restaurants and hotels lined the road, but they were all closed, deserted, fallen down, or some combination of these. We did manage to find a hospedaje in the end. It advertised TV and hot water but had neither. On the outside it had a new paint job and flags of many countries. Inside it was dark, dirty and very very basic. The toilets rivaled the one in Trainspotting and everyting looked like it hadn´t been used for years. The owners seemed very happy (and a bit surprised) to see us and were a bit confused when we produced passports rather then identity cards for registration. Had they never had foreign guests? Our room costs S15 each (NZ$7.50). After a fruitless search for a restaurant that was open, we ate fruit and biscuits in our rooms.

Today, I am plased to say, we found our way to Abancay. It was not before another wrong road (which did have a beautiful view and some nice ruins on it) and some more road under construction though. Along the way we met a mad old woman in one of the villages who would not let go of our hands, stole an orange in planed it in Andy´s pocket, and had to be persuaded to let go of the mototaxi when we took off. The area we travelled through today was very remote and no mototaxis had been before us. Kids waved or looked completely bemused. Adults stared. This was not the recommended way to go, but we are pioneering after all.

Our route took us over high passes that had our engines burning and down seemingly endless decents. We must be getting used to it as looking down 2km into vallies below no longer scares us. Still, full concentration is required both by the driver and by the passenger, who needs to move his or her weight around in order to coak the mototaxis around sharp bends. The scenery is amazing. Parts are very like NZ (e.g. Nelson´s tablelands) but everything is giant sized.

Just as we were nearing Abancay and had gotten back onto the road we should have been on yesterday, we got a flat. No worries, changed it and kept going. Then it went flat again. Pumped it up and kept going. Only 10km to Abancay. Then the heavens opened, while the tyre went completely flat and our steering went crazy. The other teams had gone ahead, leaving Rachel and I getting soaked on the side of the road trying to use our S30 pump, which was collapsing like the muck metal it was. Blinding lightening was followed immediately by deafening thunder. It was right overhead. We waved cars down, but no one stopped. This wasn´t fair. We had stopped to help a local out of the mud and the previous day had stoped to help a motorcyclist repair his clutch cable. I thought Peruvians were nice people! Hardly had I thought this when 2 guys on a motorcycle stopped. They helped us change the tyre, checked and tightened the spokes (the likely cause of 2 flats within an hour), and pumped up our tyre. Awesome.

There have been too many other adventures to detail here, but here is a short summary. After our ¨day off¨for repears in Ayacucho we aimed for the city of Andahuaylas, but the Mayan Harp team had an accident (hit a cliff face), injuring Keith´s shoulder. We had to stop therefore in the town of Chincheros. We had high hopes the next day of reachig Abancy, after getting to Andahuaylas at 10:30am (we are setting off at 6am or earlier most days) but then we got stuck in the Perumuda Triangle, with locals conspiring to keep us around.

We think we are bring up the tail of the field, but we are counting adventures, not kilometres now. Besides, the news from other teams is not good. No one has yet made it over the Bolivian border. More paperwork stuffups! Several teams have quit in disgust. Work is underway to sort it out, but given past experience, we probably don´t need to hurry. Our issue will be, how do we get to Paraguay if we can´t go by mototaxi? We may end up having to fly from La Paz. More unexpected expenses!

Tomorrow we are off to Cuzco. Better roads (paved!) but much more traffic. On the roads we have been on we have been passimg about 1 car every 10 minutes.

Let´s NOT do that again!

Well, that was one long day! We were up at quarter to 5, but paperwork, etc took a while to sort out. At 730am we were leaving town. Then we, ah, had a wee accident. A very small accident at 1km per hour when we hit a parked car when pulling out onto the road. Just a broken tail light. We have seen a few minor accidents here, and no one seems to care. However, we had the bad fortune to hit the most expensive car in town. A new Chevrolet owned by a doctor. He demanded US$100 for the repairs. He got it in the end too. We couldm´t afford the money but the time was even more precious. OK, after a couple of wrong turns and stops for oil that apparently in only availble in the central city (too bad) we were clear of town.

830am. The first hill was before us. It wasn´t all that steep but it wasn´t long before we were down to 3rd gear, then 2nd, then 1st, struggling... pushing. We found that if I got out and pushed we could do a good hill start, I´d wait until the mototaxi was up to speed and then vault in. As the day wore on and I had repeated this manouver 20 times I was getting quite good at it.

My first turn to drive came on a long downhill stretch. It was steep, with lots of corners, but I felt I had it under control. Then I made the mistake of looking further down and could see the road going on and on down into a huge canyon far below us. It was like going down a monsterous plughole!

The scenery was amazing. Lots of red hills and massive boulders. After the first couple of hours on good tarmac (and a pass of about 4000m), we turned off onto dirt roads. Others before us had described a terrifying road of sheer drops with no safety barriers. That is what we saw, but it was not really worse than many roads I had been on in rural New Zealand. Luckily for us, the traffic was very light. To balance the mototaxi the passenger had to move her or his weight around to help corner, so there was no complete break. We were breathing dust and I was getting very tired pushing so much up the hills. It was fun though. It was what we came to do. Finally.

We convoyed with Hombre Lobo and, being one of the last groups away, we were keen on catching a group ahead. Then we saw them on the road ahead of us in the distance. One, two, three, four mototaxis, and we were pulling them in. That was when Hombre Lobo got a flat tire. Goodbye other mototaxis.

We passed through many small villages and the kids would come out to wave at us. The dogs would come out to bark at us and chase us. Some bus and truck drivers shouted encouragement at us, so they must know what we are doing. In some villages they seemed to be suffering from mototaxi burnout, with dozens of mototaxis passing through already.

Although we barely stopped apart from a couple of photos and to shove fruit or muesli bars into our gobs, we were making slow going. Every uphill took an age at 10kmph (if that). It began to get dark as we travelled through a long river valley, hemmed in by tall mountains. We knew that a village called La Esmeralda was more than halfway through the valley, but figured we had missed it when the road went on and on. When we did get to La Esmeralda we knew we had not made it nearly as far as we had hoped. We had earlier decided not to night drive, but we broke this rule on our first day! The moon was full, the sky was clear, and the traffic was very light. It was Halloween Night, and most people were partying. We passed a few fiestas, but regrettably did not have time to join in.

Our new target for the day was Huanta, and it took an age. The camber on some of the dirt roads was awful and at one stage it threw us out so much that we ended up in the ditch. From the time some helpful person told us it was 20 to 30 minutes away it took about 2 hours. The lights of the town tantalised us for about half an hour before we finally go there, ready to collapse into a bed.

However, in Huanta we found a large convoy of mototaxis which had left earlier than us. One mototaxi had broken down but was being towed by a friend of one of the mototaxiers (both locals). The plan was to convoy behind the truck to our original destination, Ayacucho. By this time it was 9pm, but we decided to go along with it. What followed was not fun. Our mototaxi is one of the ones used for training. Somehow it did not get paperwork until the end and we got it. It is significantly underpowered compared to the other mototaxis and we could not keep up the convoy. This meant that we had to drive windy dirty roads at night on our own. It took about 2 hours and then we had to find a hotel with a garage. It was just on midnight as we got to bed, utterly, utterly exhausted.

We slept in the morning, getting up about 8am. In Ayacucho there is a Lifan dealer and we were supposed to get a free service. However, as we were the last group away, we have arrived on the Sunday of a long weekend. Eventually we did track down some mechanics and decided it was best not to tackle the mountains ahead with our mototaxi driving like it was. When we tried to drive out mototaxi to the mechanic it would not start, but the kind people who helped another team yesterday towed us to the garage.

We have had an oil change, a lower geared sprocket put on our gears, and a general recondition of our engine. Hopefully this will mean that we can drive uphill much better, though our top speed will be reduced. Unfortunately the mototaxis in our group will not be ready until it is too late to leave. Today will have to be written of then, with an early start planned tomorrow. Up ahead are the worst hills of the route, on bad roads, so we are being conservative with how far we will go. No more days like the one we just had.

Ayacucho - day one complete

just a quick update to let everyone know we are still alive.  Our trusty steed (tentatively dubbed Old Faithful) survived 300kms of mixed quality roads.  Some stunning views, some scary drop offs and some amazing night driving (let's not do that again - OK?)

FamousLast Words, over and out.

Leaving Huancayo

Just sitting here waiting for the paperwork.  Steve is off loading the MotoTaxi.  We were planning to leave at 6am and it is now 5.57am.  Still, it´s so close I can taste it. 

Of course, soon I´ll be tasting dust and exhaust ... can´t wait.  The updates from the groups on the road give us hope that it is actually possible to make it out of town.  Not that Huancayo isn´t lovely, but it´s time to see a little more.