This is the story of a tough trip up the coast from Lima, Peru to The Galapagos Islands in Ecuador. Tough, because much of the Pan Pacifico Highway is still an arid, lifeless desert. Tough, because some of it has hills and dales. Tough, because in the midst of enjoying Peru we were accosted and ROBBED at GUN POINT. Hey, that’s an old story but it’s having a lasting affect. You’ll meet plenty of new friends and a few old ones, too. The culmination of this leg of our Odyssey is a long time dream, a visit to The Galapagos Islands. Share the pain of the road and the joy of discovery. Meet giant Tortoise and Iguana. Swim with SHARKS. That and more is waiting for you in the following pages. Have a great read.

An e-Mail FROM RAUL

hi!!! i was wondering where would you be months from now...well im sure all around the world...because the importan thing about travelling around the world...is to leave something important about you in the place...and make sure that someone knew you un the other part of the world...make sure that someone is going to remeber you even after you leave the country...i am gald to ever know you and talk to you...i wish to you both the best of lucks....people like you is the people that changes the world...the ones that doesnt wants to leave the world without knowing how beautyful can it be. I hope you answer me soon and i hope most that your journey ends up not just being a journey ti the world...but a journey into yourselfs...

i once read in a grave..."i am not dead...im steel alive if someone out there keep remebering me"...that is what you both are gona ritch...INMORTALITY!!!

good bye
RAUL!!
ps send me photos from the mercury restaurant!!

Raul, a young guy working in a music store in Lima, Peru helped us choose a traditional Peruvian CD to replace the one taken by the Banditos. When he heard the story of our lose he became interested. Later we received this wonderful e-mail and it seems to reflect a part of our basic philosophy of life. Sure, family and friends are important but its actions and deeds that lead to change in the lives of people around us, maybe even in the world. We believe these eventually become the hallmarks of our lives, just helping, teaching and giving of ourselves. So, we hope that you’re one of those who find something in these journal pages that makes even a small difference in your life. You see, we believe that when you get a thought or idea from us and pass it along to another you are perpetuating our chain of thought. Others downstream in the chain may not even know you or us yet through you and our experience they may change, learn and grow. Isn’t that a form of IMORTALITY?

Perhaps small changes prompted by our observations will lead to a better understanding of people or places in the world. We agree with Albert Einstein’s theory, “Peace can not be won, it only comes through UNDERSTANDING!

Thanks Raul, your kind thoughts may have earned you a piece of immortality.

Lima, Peru to The Galapagos Islands, Ecuador

March 24, 2005
A Day in Lima

The breakfast here at Casa Andina is worth waiting for. Our room is comfortable and quiet. Saw a fellow traveler trying to sleep with his window open. There are rooms that face the walkways. Has to be tough. The only feasible answer is to close yourself in and use the AC. He may have the same sinus problems that we’ve suffered from in the cold blast of air.

The bikes have been tuned and are ready to go. We didn’t really even know where the bike shop was located, had to call our friend and fellow cyclist Jorge in order to find the place. The owner whose name escapes us has a t-shirt that we admired. It simply said, “Impossible is Nothing”. 

My Real Estate Brokers License has expired. Base Camp Charlie mailed a package of study materials so that I may complete the required courses for renewal. For the sake of ease he chose to ship DHL? We had it addressed to Bob and Linda, the couple we met in Cuzco. That was a mistake. Now DHL wants them to sign an affidavit as to the contents to satisfy the Aduana. Of course they’re leery, we would be too. They don’t know us and definitely don’t know the contents of our package. I asked DHL, on the telephone, and they can’t release it to us. I asked about changing the package to our names, they say that id impossible. Damn DHL!

Lots of typing for me, Cat explored Miraflores. They say this neighborhood is safe. With the number of Policia and Private Security Guards standing around it’s easy to see why. She found bread, ham and cheese and set the spread in our room for lunch.

More of same this afternoon for both of us. Cat wants me to see the Larcomar, a huge Shopping Center on a cliff above the Pacific. She scoped out an Italian Restaurant. We took a taxi and she guided me into an Orange County, California experience. Music and lights fill the cool night air. Store after store, small shops to big department stores. A huge food court and a separate group of upscale restaurants. Our place was there and had just opened para la cena. (For Dinner)

Cat had a great Pizza, I chose Oso Bucco, veal with a rich gravy. Fantastico!

March 25, 2005
Another Lazy Lima Day

Awe the breakfast, well, the French Toast. If we stay here too long we’ll be too heavy to pedal.

Decided to take a taxi into downtown Lima searching for sandals and a swimsuit. The freeway drivers run fast and furious. Our taxi driver was either an expert or a retired kamikaze pilot. The taxi could almost be WWII vintage. We held on and hoped his tires would hold up.

Downtown has it’s moments but most is a lot like Los Angeles, just another big city. There are fewer homeless looking people on the streets here than LA. We did get some good photos of the nicer areas.

The quest for sandals and suit led us to a pedestrian street lined with shops of every description. One area seemed to specialize in shoes. Funny, we both have a problem. Cat’s feet are too small and mine, too big. Every shop dug to the bottom of their supply then ran up and down the walkway trying to find sandals to fit. I got lucky in a large department store. They had a pair size 46 that fit fine. They’re yellow and stand out like a sore thumb but then, sometimes I like that. Cat had to settle for a pair of children sized sandals. We’ve avoided the sandal scene but now, we’re faced with almost a year of tropical and desert heat.

Lunch at a cheap diner featuring mediocre spaghetti. Then back to Miraflores and the journal for me. Cat concentrated on reading and answering messages on the Internet.

Dinner with Bob and Linda at Larcomar. They brought the package of bike parts and water bottles that our friends at LandRider had sent to us. Strange, the shipper had no problem with Customs and didn’t require hoop jumping? Damn DHL!

We sat on the deck, overlooking the ocean and drank in the cool sea air as we talked. Sharing travel experiences is always great fun. Bob has been with the Caterpillar Tractor Company for several years. They’ve lived in lots of out of the way places around the world. His current task is delivering and installing new equipment to a Gold Mine near Cajamarca, a mountain town in the North that sits above 4,000 meters. (13,200 feet) The customer is trying to force him to live there but he negotiated that option out of his contract before taking the job. He spends several days there then back here, to reality. Linda stays here in Lima but is tired of it and hasn’t felt well recently. She’s decided to head home to Australia later this week. Bob will batch it until the job is completed in December. We think there’s a bit of homesickness mixed into Linda’s malady.

Good food and a great night with nice people.

March 26, 2005
Last Day in Lima

Just another lazy day in Lima. Breakfast the computer. Cat watched her favorite TV shows then took a walk. I pecked away at the journal.

Taking a break in the afternoon we did lunch at Norky’s. A place down the street that reminds us of Denny’s Restaurants back home except they specialize in Chicken and its quite good. Next adventure, a search for sandals and exploration of downtown Lima. The square is much more than we thought it would be. The reports from guide books and locals makes it sound like Hell City. We watched our backs and kept the camera out of sight but the place didn’t seem that dangerous to us. In fact we found it quite picturesque and we found sandals that fit.

Back to Norky’s for dinner, of course we enhanced the chicken with a bottle of so-so, Peruvian, Chardonnay.

Easter Sunday, March 27, 2005
Lima to Ancon
56 Kilometers

Lovely last breakfast with French toast and syrup then bikes down to the court and load bags. There we were surrounded by a group of Belgians we’d met at breakfast. They were taking pictures and asking questions, we had to have a pic of them. Then we got the staff together and posed for our Andina Photo in front of the Hotel. It’s almost like leaving family behind. They all shake our hands or hug and kiss cheeks in almost emotional goodbyes.

A slow start then Cat’s shifter began to act up. I tried to adjust it and the belt tension. We pulled up in a parking lot on a cliff, overlooking the beach. As I puttered with it a couple cycled up and started a conversation with Cat. Marisel and Carlos live here and love cycling. They offered to take us to a friend who works on bikes but we declined. Their friend would only say, “I’ve never seen anything like this before”.

No fix, the shifter is stuck? It’s new, either the Bike shop played with it or I’ve got it adjusted wrong? Onward, despite the difficulty. We’re following Jorge’s written directions and moving along fairly well. Found ourselves in the midst of a 10k race, guys and gals came galloping past at break neck speeds. As we pondered direction at a corner a cyclist, Omar, rode up and offered to help. He’s a Cycling Tour Guide. He took command and led us to the main road before saying goodbye.

	Runners

The traffic is thick, maybe families headed to Church or brunch for the Holiday? Warned over and over, we’re happy to report that we met no thieves on our way out of Lima!

A Shell Service Station seemed a good place to have a soft drink and fix Cat’s bike. She was struggling on the up hills due to lack of gears. After moving the umbrella off the ice cream machine we had a little shade while we sipped. Yes, as we move inland it heats up. Cooled down, we pushed the bikes around back and I installed a new shifter with the help of Jose, a guy who was washing a truck nearby. He held the shifter in place while I tightened the bolt. Surprisingly little time lost, thanks to Juan the change was a quick one. I also think it was I who caused the problem. Cat’s frame is bent slightly, probably from airport handling? Trying to compensate, I have loosened the shifter up, too much.

Preparing to ride, a guy pulled up in a MBZ Roadster. Martjin works with CitiBank in Lima but is really tired of the job. They want to transfer him, he’s spent the weekend away, thinking about it. His decision is to refuse the transfer even if they threaten to fire him. He says he’s only an employee number to them. From Holland originally, he’s lived in Lima for 10 years and likes it. His friends are here and he doesn’t want to start over.

With the shifter clicking along we really clipped along. The route flattened then made a slow decent then a fast steep down to the beach. Ancon is near the Camino, we rode through the streets then asked direction to a Hotel. The staff at Casa Andina had called a place and made a reservation. There was a band playing and people dancing at the church. The beach was loaded with sunbathers and there are some big yachts in the harbor. It was a beautiful, sunny Easter afternoon: Directed around the point, we drew a dead end then cycled back. A Hostal, La Posada de la Pirata looked like the only game in town. It’s a 180 year old house. The owner, Jose Daniel spoke English, he’s lived in States. He attended University then worked in the Hotel and Restaurant business. He claims that the Hotel we asked about has been closed. We showed him the telephone number, he shrugged and said, “Maybe they re-opened”? Then he pointed up a really steep hill and told us to head that way. After a moments hesitation we asked what his room rate for the night would be. . .

	Dancers

Cheap, we took a table and were his only late lunch customers. Cat checked the room, it was one of those, “Hey it’s only for 1 night” kind of decisions. While we ate Jose Daniel called out to a passerby. Victor, from Lima lives his summers here but is headed back to Lima, tomorrow. Easter marks the end of summer. He had a Kayak paddle in his hand but told us he’s also a cyclist. Their group is called “Bad Boys”, no women riders. They ride hard and fast. He invited us to visit when we get back to Lima.

Cold showers, twin beds and a few local channels on TV. Well, only 1 night and only 60 Soles or less than $20. Dinner at the same table we had for lunch, out on the front porch. The crowd has disappeared, the beach is deserted. The food was like frozen fish dinners. Probably fresh fish but dipped in batter and fried.

Surprise, somehow Jose Daniel had tuned us to CNN. We caught Larry King then drifted off to slumberland.

March 28, 2005
Ancon to Chancay
46 Kilometers (6 out and back to Truck Route)

A decent breakfast and send off into a foggy morning. There are 2 roads out of Ancon, one for trucks and buses, the other for cars. We’ve been warned by cyclist friends not to take the truck route. So, we cycled fast out what was marked as the Pan Americano only to reach a Policia gate and find that we couldn’t go further, this is the truck and bus only route? So, back into Ancon to the overpass then around and down onto the Pan Americano for cars. An additional 6 Ks, 3 out and 3 back added to what we thought would be a short, easy day.

Instantly out of town and into the sand dunes. Then a long slow climb that terminates as the highway separates and swings left. At that point we were on a long steady push for the next hour. This is the 500 meter (1,650 foot) climb that Martjin had warned us of. As we rose above the sand it was a clear view of the half finished or half falling down Pueblo, below. The fog had dissipated yet when we rounded the corner near the top of the hill the area back to the left, where Ancon lies, was still enshrouded.

The long push made the simple looking ride on the map stretch to a 4 hour push and pedal. The Pan Americano cuts through the west side of Chancay. The Policia at the round about indicated that a hotel is off to the left. We made the circle then stopped and dug out the guide book to look at the little map. A guy walked up and started talking in halting English. He became excited when I described our journey and handed me a booklet with info on Chancay. He works with the Officina de Tourismo. He confirmed that we’d find 2 hotels further down the street.

Down was the word, we rolled easily in moderate traffic, right up to the door of the Hotel While waiting I even got a picture of the bikes in repose against a planter. Cat checked the room and decided it would be okay for the night. There is a restaurant here and an Internet Connection, all under one roof.

The room is at least okay. The shower felt great. A long walk to the ocean front, a cliff overlooking what could be a great strand. However, it is either in disrepair or under construction and looks pretty bad. The road down is steep and dirt. The roadway along the strand is also dirt. Looks like a great opportunity for some forward thinking person.

Dinner down, a slow process. The woman who appears to be manager seated us. We were the only customers in the place. After 20 minutes we got her attention and asked if we could order? That taken care of, we sat back and waited, 20 minutes, 30 minutes, then asked again. She seemed a bit indignant and indicated that food was coming. Lo, in another 10 it was in front of us. Not bad, not great, definitely the slow delivery dinner winner of the trip.

A Fall From Grace, At The Internet Place

They have an Internet place adjacent to the Hotel Lobby. We stopped in to check messages. Cat scanned them then decided to head for the bed. I continued answering and writing. Suddenly, the rickety chair folded in mid sentence. I crashed down to the hard floor, on my back. The young guy in charge and several others rushed to my aid. They all started trying to lift me, unaware that my legs were stuck beneath the desk. I started yelling, they kept tugging. Finally I yanked my arms free and scooted back. At last, their help was appreciated. I logged off and took my aching back up, to bed.

March 29, 2005
Chancay to Huacho
66 Kilometers

After a pretty good breakfast we rolled the bikes down the stairway and out, onto the street. It’s a one way and it ain’t goin’ our way. A guy on the sidewalk told us we had to go 2 cuadras over to the left. It was a push on a rough dirt street then a ride back up toward the Highway in heavy traffic.

A little medical update, my back is really sore. Both elbows ache, we’ve decided that I’m getting too old to do comedy routines like the collapsing chair last night. Yet, we do laugh as I recount the moment, laying there unable to get up. Yes, too old!

Once back on the Camino, we fought for space on a narrow, bumpy road. The traffic at first was bumper to bumper but thinned as we got to the edge of town. Then, we were thrust onto a 4 lane divided road. Its all ups and downs, some small some not.

At the top of one hill we witnessed a family placing a wreath at a cross. Probably a memorial of what must have been a family member, before the crash. From that point we could see only brown, the green that has been lining the route has dried up, completely. These areas are amazing, completely void of any plants.

Rolling down a long hill at good speed we came upon a terrible crash scene. Approaching, we could see two trucks, one in the median, the other off to the right, on its side. We cycled into the carnage, hundreds of chickens, some loose some still trapped in cages. Some dead, some dying. A crew of highway workers were scurrying around, trying to catch those still living. The road is covered with blood, feathers and dead chickens. We had to pick our way through the mess. It looks like the truck in the median must have crashed into the rear of the chicken truck at very high speed.

Then, as we pulled through the chicken killing field we saw an even more brutal scene. The driver and helper were still trapped in the cab of the other truck. The nose of their rig was crushed back, into their bodies. The guy on the passenger side was almost free, they hooked a cable to the crushed truck and began to pull. The cable snapped and in the backlash, almost hit him. Sometimes the rescue is more dangerous for the inured than the crash it’s self. We only stayed a few minutes, too brutal to just stand and watch. Oh yes, as in all things in life, “Some good comes from this terrible event”. Several locals were chasing running chickens, thinking of the meal they will mean for their families.

The Chain Snaps

 The crash was still visible in our mirrors when we pulled into a restaurant that looked like a temporary shack. The guy didn’t seem to mind that we had sandwiches made day before yesterday. He was happy that we bought 4 soft drinks. After our first was guzzled down we helped ourselves rather than interrupt his lunch. A woman rode up on a bicycle followed by 4 large dogs. She interrupted him and bought some little item. It made us happy to see her and her pups move on just before we finished eating.

The ride is still bland, brown sand even though we’re cycling near the sea shore. Getting into Huacho was another challenge. Rolling along we fell in behind a herd of goats being driven right down the highway. The herdsmen were running with them, trying to get to the open field and off the road. Our share of the roadway is now covered with droppings. Little chocolate drops that stick to our wheels and fly up toward us.

Brown on Brown

We had to cycle all the way through town to find the only Hotel. The room was okay and there’s an Internet connection just down the street.

Hot, we were happy to see a small swimming pool in a crowded courtyard. We suited up, took a quick cold showered then dove in. Not very clean but very refreshing. We lay in the sun and watched as a young girl dressed in white pushed an old guy through the door and onto the poolside deck. She got him situated then helped him eat, or pretty much fed him. He is bent over and has tremors. Our poolside diagnosis is Parkinson’s Disease. The nurse either loves her job or the old guy. She treats him very gently, brushing his hair back out of his face and pulling his stooped back up straight and holding his head upright, over and over. Then, when he had finished his food she took him for a walk. She had to hold him, he leaned against her and shuffled down the pool deck. When she turned to bring him back he proved to be too much for her. She called out and another gal came running. They both worked to keep him upright as they got him bad to his wheelchair. Our interest may be rooted in the knowledge that we may be in the same condition, some day.

We showered, a cold shower in our room then ate at a place next door. After a quick check of our e-mails we took our tired bodies to bed.

March 30, 2005
Muacho to Barranca
48 Kilometers

Coffee and bread then off to Barranca. The exit is typical, tough traffic in town then back to the divided roadway.

The brown ground gave way to agriculture. The road is now lined with chili pepper, sugar cane and corn fields. Also large fields of chili peppers and corn drying in the sun. A brick oven smoldered and belched smoke as they fired and finished their product.

Raimund Rides Into the Wind

A cyclist rode toward us then crossed and greeted us. Raimund from Germany is on a difficult journey from Venezuela to Lima. He rides 150 kilometers daily. These days the wind that has been our friend has him struggling at times. If we understood correctly he has been cycling from Alaska doing it in 2 month legs each year. He gets off work and rides hard, every year. When we told him that he must be tough to ride so far against this wind he pounded his right thigh and said, “I strong, I go okay”! He has a girl friend but she isn’t into this extremely regimented style of cycling. Raimund says that he will finish his big ride next year. He reminds us of Harley, the Professor at UC Berkeley. You may remember him? He rides across the US every year, heading east from California, cycling as far as he can go in 2 months.

The short distance we’re traveling put us in Barranca by 1:00 PM. Hotel Chavin is purported to be the nicest place in town. It surprised us, as we rode in there it was, right on the main street. They have a driveway under part of the building leading to a parking lot. Once checked in the bellman helped us take bags inside then store the bikes in a garage area out back.

They originally had us n a room overlooking the main street. I did the look and came back asking for a quieter place. After a lot of study and discussion they took me to see another. It overlooked the pool and parking. Nicely furnished, this would do, just fine.

Showers, lunch in the café downstairs then Internet down the street for a couple of hours.

A relaxing hour watching subtitled TV and sipping a glass of wine then dinner down. A family, Mom, Dad and two boys seated nearby were speaking English. We didn’t bother them, too tired and too hungry. .

March 31, 2005
A day in Barranca
Brain Dead Girl Dies Terry Schiavo

The gal, Trish and her two boys, Josh and Nicholas, that we saw at dinner last night were next to us a breakfast. Thought we’d heard English being spoken and it was. They’re from Vancouver, Canada and the Dad and husband, Henri, works for the Large Gold Mine in Cajamarca. They’re here on a few days off but he had to work this morning. The Mine has a Port here for shipping the ore. They live in Huarez, Peru a town at 10,000 feet (3100 meters). They’ve been here for 2 years. There is a third son age 14 who is at a boarding school in Canada. They have an American School in Huarez but it only goes to grade 8. Really a nice family.

Student Parade

We found an Internet connection just around the corner. The morning of reading and writing e-mails passed quickly. Back to Hotel Chavin for lunch by the pool. We dressed for a dip but didn’t. Trish and the boys were there. The guys were into swimming and sliding down the twisting water slide. We ordered hotdogs and talked with Trish as we ate. Only out for a little over and hour but both of us got sunburned.

Goodbye Terry
One Way or the Other, You’re Off to a Better Place!

I spent the afternoon typing journal pages and watching CNN out of one eye. The big news of the day, Terry Schiavo died. She’s the brain dead girl who had told her husband that she didn’t want to be kept alive if in a vegetative state. Her parents have fought him for 7 years regarding whether it was her wish or not. Our Christian Right led government let the separation of Church and State grow narrowly thin when they attempted to circumvent the years of decisions up to and including the State and Federal Supreme Courts. For some reason TV always said that the Husband wanted to take her feeding tube out but the “family” was against it. Isn’t “the husband” family? Someone did quote the Bible, stating that when the woman marries the husband makes the decisions for the “family”. Sounds like something that our Southern Baptists friends would agree with except in this instance. Here they, and many zealots, want it the other way. It’s not about the right to die, just who has the right to make the decision.

Dinner down, we had the place to ourselves. Pasta and good Pasta it was.

Tough to hear the TV, the guys in the next room were throwing a very noisy party. We dozed off but were awakened at 3:00 AM by a woman crying and a man shouting “Puta”, whore. I put up with it for a couple of minutes then pounded on the wall. That stopped them for a few minutes, the voices lowered then the fight was back on. I really pounded then called the front desk. There’s no reason not to report abuse and this sounded like abuse. We heard the knock on their door and words being spoken then the party and fight were over, at least for this night.

Some time during the good times and bad next door I came down with the Guff Guff. Cat has had it for a couple of days, now I join her.

April 1, 2005
A Day of Diarrhea in Barranca

Between the toilet trots and the noise next door it was a very short night. So, tired and drained, literally, we made a decision to sit out a day. Try to heal and rest.

Breakfast then a short walk to the beach. It’s down a cliff and looks pretty simple. We just looked over but chose not to go down.

Another Hot Dog luncheon poolside. Another hour with the Canadian family. Even Henri was here, and talked between dips.  

A little typing for the journal but most of the afternoon was spent laying around, watching TV. A typical sick day for WR2.

Dinner down, again. The family came in and we had another nice chat while dining.

April 2, 2005
Barranca to Huarmey
99 Kilometers
A Good Man, PJPII Died Today

A bit of sad but expected news this morning, Pope John Paul II died during the night. A good man, I attended and audience with him when cycling Around the World in 1988. Yes, 8,000 other best friends and I gathered and listened as he spoke in 8 or 9 languages. There was a delegation from Yugoslavia and he spoke of the hate and waste caused by religious factions there. It was very touching. Then at the close of the service he walked down the aisle. People, struggling to touch him, were calling out, “Papa, Papa”. I have a nice little clip of video I’ll have to share here when we get back home.

Breakfast at 7:00 but try as we might for an early start it was after 9:00 AM by the time we were loaded and ready to roll. Henri, Trish and boys came by for a goodbye then we rolled. It’s 100 Ks today and we are worried about the heat and potential for hills. Henri did say that the road is fairly flat. They also recommended the Yellow Hotel in the middle of Huarmey. They have stayed there and prefer it but the other place just outside town has a swimming pool. They can’t pass up pools.

At least a dry 90 degrees in the shade and no shade in sight. We sat with our backs to the blazing sun and ate the very dry sandwiches the Hotel had packed for us.

The final 15 Ks was a downhill run into Huarmey. The Pan Americano is the main street. It was easy to spot the Hotel, the big yellow building on the right, just as Henri and Trish had described. The gracious owners, Sylvia and Peter greeted us with enthusiasm and in English. He had studied in the US, she lived there, in Boston for more than 10 years. They had us bring the bikes in, sit and chat while downing a huge pitcher of cold lemonade.

Yes, we were a little tired after riding 99 Ks but it had gone well. The last downhill run helped. So, we relaxed and showered even caught a movie, before dinner.

And the dinner was delicious. Peter and Sylvia want their guests to feel at home, actually this is their home. They live here in the Hotel and have since buying it 4 years ago.

A short walk around the corner and a quick check on the Internet. The place was full of kids, curious about two Gringos. As I finished a note on e-mail Cat sat out front and talked with 3 young girls. They even escorted us back to the Hotel to get our cards. Then, big hugs and good wishes full of promises of e-mails they’ll send our way.

Sunday, April 3, 2005
Huarmey to Casma
84 Kilometers

A tasty and filling breakfast and we were ready for the road. Peter was in attendance and was wishing us well when Sylvia came in wearing her nightgown. We wanted a picture, she felt under dressed. A compromise, they stood behind the counter.

Off, into the wind and blowing sand. Today was Cat’s day for the Guff Guff. She began feeling nauseous and the feeling increased as we climbed away from the sea. Not a bush in site, she had to squat behind a little rock. A passing truck honked, they may have seen her but vanity was the last thing on her mind, at that moment. The Guff Guff urges came in surges. Two more stops in quick succession.

A Solid GOLD Oasis

An oasis, rows of green trees and fields. We would have thought it only a place where water is abundant if Henri hadn’t told us about it. The mine, high above in the hills, uses lots of water to separate the gold from the tailings. Rather than waste the water they pipe it down and use it to make things grow. Yes, an oasis, a solid gold oasis.

Peter had told us of a Restaurant out here, in the middle of nowhere. At kilometer marker #348 we found Restaurante La Balsa and Clemente. We have the 2 day old left over sandwiches. He smiled and invited us to sit at a table and eat. We ordered soft drinks, he served them then brought out a treasured possession, his photo album. Clemente has been serving cyclists for several years. No one can pass here on a bike, it’s just too far from anywhere. His book is full of photos given him by cycling visitors and their words are written on the tattered pages. We saw the photo and words of French friends, Frederick and Laurencia, you remember, we met them in Uyuni, Bolivia. I wrote down the e-mail addresses of several and told Clemente that I’d try to contact them. He asked us to tell them he says hello. When it came time to pay up he refused? In Spanish with a few English words he got his point across, “Bicis stay and eat, no pay”.

Cat was beginning to feel better as we pulled the next big hill. On the way up a 4WD passed, honked and slowed. They had several flags flying from the roof. When they topped out they pulled over and waited for us. A family, Raul, Ariela and their son, Heuyerbert are from Venezuela. They’re making a big circle tour of South America. Our ignorance of the Spanish language and their lack of English made talk difficult. Raul has a Bible lying on the dashboard so we figured they must be meeting friends of the same denomination or, spreading the word? 

It’s been all up and away from Clemente’s place until we hit this down. Then a slight turn into a crosswind and it might as well have been up all the way. (Cross as in from our right side and cross as in angry.) The sand dunes were shifting and drifting about on the Pan Americano, blowing into our faces, up our noses and into our eyes. A problem for me, a real pain for Cat who wears contact lenses. We passed a local cyclist struggling along in the wind. At the top of a slight rise I pulled up to get his picture. He had dismounted and was pulling his overloaded 3 wheeler through the drifting sand.

Casma is a simple Peruvian town. Lots of MotoTaxis buzzing around. A steady stream of traffic to deal with. Then, the mystery of the missing Hotel. The signs for Hotel Farol led us to the Plaza. From there we had to play the ask, ask game. After a couple of bad directions we learned that it was sort of hidden, a couple of blocks off the Pan Americana.

After a nice shower we walked around a little, even found a bottle of wine. A real bonus since the restaurant at the Hotel El Farol has none. Dinner was fair, thin, pounded steak and canned veggies. We’ve had a lot worse!

April 4, 2005
Casma to Chimbote
60 Kilometers

Breakfast and a new friend, Miguel. He works with Sunshine Exports, a fruit and vegetable grower. They specialize in Mangos and Avocado. He’s lives in Lima but is headed toward Piura where they have farms. When we told him how we love Mangoes he shook his head and said, “Too bad, season just ended”. Interesting, he has a very Peruvian first name and very Chinese last. His parents immigrated to Peru, he was born here. They may own Sunshine Co.? His brother lives in Canada. When I asked if he’s involved in agriculture too Miguel said, “No, he works in shipping. He receives our exported fruits there, in Vancouver.” As we snapped a picture with Miguel the woman who had served us breakfast ran out with a camera. She started to take our picture then I asked Miguel to take one of her with us. She was so excited that we had to have one, too.

With the exception of one big hill that required one long push, the ride was pretty uneventful. At least until we were about 15 Ks out of Chimbote. There, the wind began to howl. It has been present almost all day but really picked up after 2:00 PM: Then it became cross again. Even more forceful than yesterday. Trucks passing to the south would almost blow us off the road. This sand was more than an eye full. It stung our arms and legs. A real painful hour.

		Load in the Wind
Blowing Sand

We’ve been sort of dreading Chimbote. Many have told stories as though it’s a terrible place. A fishing town, full of canneries, we’ve heard the story of it’s bad smell from at least 5 sources. The more worrisome stories are of legendary theft and robbery.

At the stoplight we found ourselves in a fairly large town with the usual traffic and trash blowing around. However, no smells, bad or good, and no attempted theft, at least not yet.

A couple of young guys pulled up on bikes as we surveyed a mediocre looking Hotel. They insisted that Hotel Libertador was the best in town and costs the same. At least that was the message they seemed to be trying to get across. They urged us to follow. Cat was nervous, is it a trap? They led us back up the Main Street and around the corner. We had read about Hotel Tourista but no one seemed to know where it was or if it existed? Libertador has gone through change. It’s now called Tourista. Maybe the Libertador chain lost confidence or money? The boys appeared to have led our of the goodness of their hearts? The elder told me that the young one was a bici racer and they were training. They got us to the door, stood and watched as Cat went in and checked on rooms then waved, shook my hand and rode off smiling and laughing.

The Hotel is old and tired but located on the beach front. Well, not really a beach, a sea wall. From the room we can see the fishing fleet but can’t smell the evidence of their catches. We drug the bikes up a wide and elegant stairway, 2 full flights. The Bellmen tried to help but insisted on lifting the back of the bike rather than rolling up the stair. When they lift the rear wheel it makes it impossible to roll the front and I end up having to lift, too. That really puts pressure on my torn rotor cuff. I stopped and asked Cat to come show them how it’s done. With a little struggle we got my bike up to the 1st landing. The guys got the message but grabbed her bike and jus carried it up.

It was 2:00 PM, we ate our ham and cheese in the room then showered. Off to the market, an old guy, 92 years young, stopped us at the doorway and tried to chat. He gave up but insisted that it’s too dangerous to walk around in Chimbote. He and his helper made us come with them. At his apartment he dismissed the helper to continue guarding us. Very nice of him but we felt no threat. He did lead us directly to a Super Market where we found a great bottle of Chardonnay, crackers and cheese.

The balance of the afternoon we hovered over a keyboard in the local Internet place. The unescorted walk back was uneventful. Chimbote isn’t living up to it’s reputation, thank goodness.

Dinner down, the only patrons. Food as quite good.

April 5, 2005
Chimbote to Viru
84 Kilometers
A Prince of a Guy Dies

Yes, we learned in Spanish that the ailing Prince Rainer of Monaco died. You remember him, he married Grace Kelly the well known American actress who became the really famous Princess Grace. Later, we heard a quote we loved, “Monaco, a sunny place full of shady people”

The streets of Chimbote were awash with cars, Motos, trucks and buses. They stirred up the dirt and dust. At the edge of town we pulled into a service station and bought sandwiches for today’s lunch. It was 9:30 AM by the time we pedaled away. Our nostrils had been spared and our wallets were still intact.

The brown sand began to green up. Fields of sugarcane lined the Pan Americana. Suddenly it felt tropical, even a little rain squall. Little ups and downs but the change in temperature and scenery had an uplifting affect on our spirits. The long downhill run toward Viru didn’t hurt, either. Funny, a sign at the gate of one of the many farms said, “Temperatura 22 C., Humididad 82 %”. It was painted on, so we assume the weather is the same, everyday.

China? Or Peru?

At Viru, we saw no sign of a Hotel of any kind. Just a small crossroads Pueblo. Asking, we finally found a bus driver who told us that Viru is 2 Ks off the highway. The rain began to drizzle again as we rode through the tropics. Viru is another small place but in an out of the way location. At the Central Plaza we found a group of Policia. They all spoke in unison and pointed to the next corner.

The Hostal is a simple place, almost a family home. The portly woman was full of smiles and Spanish words that went right over our heads. She had us park the bikes under the stairway. Our room is really small, twin beds with just a narrow walkway between. The bath is just as space conservative. Hardly room to turn around. There’s an old water heater at the top of the stair so we were heartened. However, the new hasn’t been installed. The smiling lady told Cat that they had termal heat. Hopes that she meant thermal or maybe even solar faded as the cold continued to spew. So it was boat showers again. You know, wet down, shut down the water, soap down then a hasty rinse down.

A stroll around the square led to the conclusion that the Hostal was the best bet for food here in Viru. There was a Pizza place and a Chicken place but neither looked very clean.

We sat alone in the dining area and ate our so-so chicken and rice. The other guests and family ate together and watched TV in the living room. We’d spotted an Internet place on our stroll. It opened at 7;00 PM. An hour at the keyboard then back to our tiny abode and early to bed.

The only window opens to a sort of courtyard. The building is 5 stories high, the courtyard little more than a shaft for light and ventilation. We can see in the room across from us. It’s really a mess of clothing and junk. Made sense when we saw the smiling owner’s son come in and pull the blinds.

April 6, 2005
Viru to Trujillo
48 Kilometers

It was easy to awaken early. The kitchen is directly below our window. Sounds at first then smells of food pulled us reluctantly us out of bed. We’re anxious to get to Trujillo, a larger town with deep history, a good place to take a day off.

The other guests, working people, were already leaving as we came down for breakfast. The still smiling lady made eggs, no bacon or ham but a generous plate of bread and unlimited Nescafe instant coffee.

We were making our way back the 2 Ks to the Pan Americano by 8:00 AM. The usual hubbub at the crossroads then across the bridge and we were off to Trujillo. The scenery remains tropical.

As we reached a series of ups and downs we witnessed a crew cutting sugarcane. They saw us and as I raised the camera they did little performances. Dancing around, waving and shouting in a friendly sort of way. They were also burning the fields. The smoke filled the air, our noses and eyes. It was a time to pedal hard and hold our breaths. Finally the wind shifted. 

The higher we rode the fewer the fields and the browner the sandy earth became. Climbing one of the more difficult hills we were overtaken by a group of Road Cyclist. Local guys from Trujillo out for a workout. Of the four, Jorge, Daniel, Fabio and Alang only one, Fabio, spoke enough English to understand our terrible Spanish. They did get the point across that there’s only one more up then it’s all down into Trujillo.

Worlds Largest Sandbox

The one hill seemed to be attached to several but at last it was like flying, in to town.

Traffic thickened and we were soon ducking and dodging trucks laden with Sugar Cane, Buses, cars and a swarm of MotoTaxis. Just as we were preparing to stop for directions we came upon 2 of the cyclists, Fabio and Alang sitting in the shade of a building. They hailed us down and offered to guide us into the heart of Trujillo.

They are experienced and pretty pushy with the other traffic. At first we held back but as we watched them bob and weave we too became more aggressive. At one point a Taxi turned and cut me off. I yelled out and almost hit the side of the car then thought better of it. I remembered when I’d done just that back in Latvia and the angry driver pulled over, jumped out, raised his fist in the air and threatened to strike. Okay, once in that position is probably enough. And, these are the rules of the road, here.

There were no signs guiding us. The guys took us through small street, even back alleys trying to avoid traffic. Then suddenly we burst out of a shady little street and into the sunlit Plaza de Armas. Our Hotel of choice, the Libertador, with flags and banners flying, was directly ahead of us. The guys were in a hurry, Alang has to get to work. He has a small Printing Business but works nights at a restaurant. We shook hands and thanked them profusely. It would have taken us hours of asking and riding in circles to get here.

As we pulled up in front of the Hotel a guy, Tom from Connecticut, stepped through the door and asked where we were going. Nice guy, he follows the surf, around the world. Our new friend wanted a photo with us then he took one with the cathedral in the background. He really wants to stay as the surf is building and hasn’t been that great since he arrived but his niece is marrying this weekend and he has to be there. He’s a Flooring Contractor, sort of semi retired who loves to fly to exotic beaches and experience waves of the world.

We wanted luxury and the Libertador was just that. Our room is spacious, well furnished with a huge bed and it overlooks the Pool. They have satellite TV, even CNN I English. We took quick showers, our first real showers in 2 days, then walked to a sandwich shop for lunch.

A relaxing afternoon of TV News and typing journal pages then dinner down. The restaurant is as nice as the room and lobby. Though the prices are more than we’re used to, the quality is great. Both ordered Northern Cabrito, young goat prepared in a sauce with vegetables. Mmmmmmm, Mmmmmmmm, good!

The CNN News Show, Aaron Brown was on. We’ve gone through another time change and didn’t even know it.

April 7, 2005
Oozing in Luxury in Trujillo

The Breakfast Room is adjacent to the pool. Taking a seat in the sun we began to enjoy ourselves just as our table neighbor lit up. Why would they put the smoking section on the scenic side of the room? Sort of ruined the ambiance of the moment. The buffet was a wonderful spread.

Cat headed out to scout the lay of the land with a bag full of dirty cloths under her arm. Apre the Lavanderia she trolled back and forth on the shopping street looking for a swim suit without luck. She did find a supermarket and bought wine and lunch things. A name, Michael White, jumped off the page of our Lonely Planet. An English speaking guide, we called and made an appointment to tour the ruins, Chan Chan and the 2 famous temples.

Sandwiches in then she was off again on her quest for a swim suit. I was hunched over the computer trying to catch up on the Copa to Lima segment of our journal. 

Dinner at an Italian place around the corner. Pizza, of course. Too expensive and too much food. We could only finish half hence half for lunch, tomorrow.

April 8, 2005
Michael’s Tour to Chan Chan, and Temples
PJP II’s Funeral

Today, Catholics and the world celebrated the life of Pope John Paul II. World leaders including GW and Laura attended. More than 2,000,000 admirers stood in silence or prayed at the appropriate times. He was strict and didn’t always agree with modernizing ideas but he was a beloved leader. I remembered being at St. Peters back in 1988 and watching him speak several languages including Croatian in honor of a group of suppressed Yugoslavians in attendance. The crowd shouted, “Papa, Papa” as he strode down the aisle touching their hands.

A group of Brothers dressed in white robes stood in a line outside the Trujillo Cathedral. Then young people marched as speakers blared. They too were celebrating his life here in Trujillo.

JPJ II Parade

  Mpeg 028 PJP II Parade

A quick breakfast and Michael was here, on time. Nice guy, very British. He came here 16 years back to study and write about the ruins, met Clara and the rest is history. She too guides tours.

The drive took us through dirt roads and local housing. People who have carved out places on little patches of land. Small farms with green crops and animals surrounding the simple homes.

Our first stop was the Moche Temple of the Moon. A giant place built entirely of mud. Much of it had deteriorated but is currently being reconstructed. Excavation has revealed 6 layers or building stages dating back to 600 AD. Adorned with amazing paintings and drawings. Bricks of mud with signature marks of the brick makers. Temple of the moon is nearby. Michael tells us that the Spanish found and took tons of Silver from the Temple of the Sun then later discovered beneath that area some 20 tons of gold. He says, with a wink in his eye that the amount was documented for tax purposes so no telling how much actually left here. Geez, they were cheating the Tax Man even back in the 1500s.

  Mpeg 029 Michael

Sebastion, Travel and TRUE LOVE

Sebastion, a German guy, opened conversation, asking about our shirts. He remembered seeing us at Machu Picchu. After having wandered around the world for more than 3 years, he’ll soon head home. He met a woman, the German Girl of His Dreams, while touring near Titicaca. They traveled together here after meeting. His travel bug has been defeated by the Love Bug!

Off to Chan, Chan. There’s a ticket office and a disappointment to learn the price until they explained that it covers the museum, Chan Chan, the Rainbow Temples and La Huaca Esmeralda. More giant mud structures that once included 10,000 dwellings. No lunch for the tourists, we snacked at the ticket office then pressed onward. Michael gave us a full day, 9:00 until 4:30 and too much info to absorb.

Starving by the time we got back to the Hotel, we wolfed down the left over Pizza with a little wine. Dinner later, we were so full of Pizza that we just had soup downstairs.

We’re now hooked on an Attorney TV show. Well, two of them that seem to be related. One is on daily, in the morning and this one airs weekly. Some of the characters flow back and forth. One n particular, Alan, has just joined the morning show and isn’t getting along with some of the Partners. The other features the actor who played Captain Kirk in the Sci-Fi series. (Note, I’m terrible about remembering actor’s names.) Part of the joy is that the characters remind us of members of law firms we were involved with back home. Guess it proves that most Attorneys are cut from the same cloth?

April 9, 2005
More Time in Trujillo
Our Beautiful Granddaughter Aubrie is 10 Years Old Today

First Order of Business, and E-Mail to Aubrie on her 10th birthday then another great breakfast. (Deysayuno) It’s hard to believe that it’s been 3 years since we’ve seen her or any of the rest of our families for that matter. Yes we miss them but we also love what we’re doing. We think of them and thank them every day for putting up with our crazy odyssey.

After another wonderful buffet breakfast Cat went back on the circuit looking for a swim suit. I went back to the self imposed drudgery of the Journal. She had no luck with the suit, I did several catch-up pages. She did find empanadas. We sat near the pool and ate, carefully shielding our faces from the burning sun.

Cat found a hair stylist and got a short cut. With a little urging she convinced me to do the same. The girls were fun and funny. The one that cut my hair said that she wanted to go with us around the world. When I explained that we’re on bicycle she began to back pedal.

My afternoon was journal. Cat repacked the bags and we made ready to roll. Dinner at 7:30 PM. A small restaurant that our guide, Michael, had suggested. Cabrito and beans, again. Great but we will both develop diarrhea before mornings light.

**Footnote, Though they had to delay by a day due to the Funeral of PJP II, Camilla and Charles Prince of Wales, were married today. The end or beginning of another ROYAL SCANDALL? **

Sunday, April 10, 2005
Trujillo to La Pirata
61 Kilometers
An Armed Assault
A Highway Robbery

Up early, breakfast at the Buffet Trough then bags down to the bikes. One little glitch, someone had tried to move our bikes with the camp bags attached and pulled the seat loose. Communication, I have been as specific as possible these past 3 days, teaching, warning the guard in charge not to allow anyone to try to move the bikes. He played coy when I showed him the broken seat. He was amazed that I could take it apart and repair it so quickly. So were we! I’m getting to be a pro. 

We cycled out the door and around the Plaza. Another flag raising Sunday morning. We took a couple of photos then struck out north toward Pacasmayo. It’s more than 100 Ks but we feel strong and confident. The traffic is heavy and the MotoTaxis seem to play a game of chicken with us.

Once beyond the bumps and potholes of Trujillo the road widened and smoothed out. With a light tail wind we made great time. A Police Roadblock and our first pull over in Peru. They checked out Passports and asked questions. One told us that he’s cycled competitively in California. It seemed nice to be among friends.

The Pueblo of Paijan is just a dusty main street that’s also the Pan Pacifico Highway. We pulled up, leaned the bikes and ate lunch in a typical roadside place. Truck Drivers came and went, most stared. We ate fairly quickly as we have another 50 Ks ahead of us, today. Exiting town we rolled into sugarcane and green fields. The friendly wind continued to push us along and we felt confident that we’d get there long before dark.

Then at about 8 Ks out a MotoTaxi coming toward us swerved and as it came toward us 2 guys pointing pistols jumped out and ran to me. I tried to turn around, to see what had happened to Cat but one of the guys pushed the gun against my temple. I did see Cat, who had been down on the ground with the third guys gun up her nose, get up and start to say, “No, no, don’t do this”.

Not so funny then but we do laugh now at the way these 3 tiny teenagers with big pistolas tried to push then ride our bikes. The heavy load threw them off and they couldn’t get a leg over our high seats to ride away. They quickly gave up and began ripping the bags off. We watched as they successfully pulled the bags with the computer and camera off and threw them into their Moto. Yes, they’d fired shots, no we didn’t give chase. We just stood there feeling sort of helpless. Funny, I asked if Cat felt okay. She said “Yes” then we wondered at the strangeness of the situation. We weren’t shaking like we did in Ica during the foiled pickpocket attempt. We were just resigned to the fact that we had lost a few things but we were okay. Thing are just things but health and life are the only things that mattered at that moment.

The following is an account written later about the events of this afternoon, late night and into the next morning. We owe a great debt of gratitude to Lucho, Igel and Alain who selflessly went with me, back to Paijan searching for our things, the TRUTH and THE BAD GUYS..

2:00 PM, Sunday, April 10, 2005 Robbed Near Paijan
Guns in Our Faces

Our philosophy is that some good comes from all things. As we stood helpless with guns pointed at our faces or as one of them fired shots at my feet it was difficult to see what good could come from this situation. The 3 young guys first tried to take the bikes but couldn’t get them on their MotoTaxi. Then we watched as they ripped half of our Ortlieb bags with Computer, Camera and other things off the bikes, throw them in the Moto and flee. A car had stopped nearby but the occupants wouldn’t or couldn’t do anything with all those guns around. They did drive up and signal that they would send the Policia. A small crowd gathered and talked among themselves. When the Police arrived they checked to make sure that we were okay and spoke with the people gathered around us. Then they drove down the road that the Robbers had taken, searching for them or our things. We cycled back into Paijan and filed a Police report of the events during our assault including a list the items stolen. Still shaken by the event we loaded the bikes on a taxi and came back to Trujillo.

The Good That Came From This Terrible Event
3:00 PM Monday, April 11, 2005
Inspector Lucho and the Paijan Vice

During our previous 2 days in Trujillo we’d wanted to stop by the World Bicycle House and meet the famous Luis Ramirez. Neither of us felt well so we stayed in our room most of the time. Cyclists as far away as Africa had told us how he and his wife Angela welcome cyclists to their home. Many stay for days or weeks. Luis, who is Secretary of the League of Cyclists of Trujillo, was very alarmed when he heard our story. He wanted to help us and make sure that this doesn’t happen to cyclists passing through this area, in the future

A Strange Circumstance!

As we talked a friend of Luis’s from Paijan came in. He told of bicycle parts being sold and knew a guy who had bought 2 inner tubes. Feeling sure that we could find the Robbers or our things he insisted that we go to Paijan, immediately. The 4 of us were on a bus and headed there in less than an hour. ¬

A Night With New Friends

Two of Luis’s current cyclist guests, Igel from Germany and Alain from Canada, volunteered to accompany us back to Paijan. They would help translate for me. All three dropped what they were doing and came to our rescue. We hopped on a bus and were in Paijan by early evening. In minutes we were talking with the guy that had bought the 2 inner tubes. That led to another young man who later admitted he had driven the Moto for the robbers. Luis talked with him about getting some of our things. He said that he was afraid of the Police and the other guys. The door to door search finally ended at 11:30 PM. Sometime during the house to house search we began calling ourselves “Inspector Lucho and the Paijan Vice”.

Morning’s Light and Another Amazing Coincidence
7:00 AM Tuesday, April 12, 2005

Too late to return to Trujillo, we slept at a taxi driver’s place, 2 on the floor and 2 in a bed. It was a short and tough night. More door to door visits, the mother of the Moto driver was angry, her other son had been arrested, he ran his Moto into a Police car. So, with this amazing turn of events we hurried off to the Police Station.

There in the courtyard was the blue Moto, probably the same one they used to rob us? The 17 year old boy was surprised to see us and soon confessed that his brother had driven for the Bandits. The Mother was soon there, begging us and the Police to let him go. They didn’t, in fact El Mayor de Policia, M. Ortiz, along with two of his deputies, drove us around to the doors we’d visited last night and questioned all the family members. The brother was now nowhere to be seen. He and the other 3 had skipped town. More filings at the Police Station and the day slipped away. It was 6:00 PM by the time we got back into Trujillo. What great new friends! What a way to find “some good in an armed robbery”!

A Meeting With El General, Octavio Salazar Miranda
April 14, 2005

Friends in Lima had made contact with General Miranda. Luis arranged an appointment. With Alain along as our interpreter we met El General and discussed the events of our assault. He was aware of most details but called to check with El Mayor, M. Ortiz in Paijan. When he heard that they had released the MotoTaxi he insisted that they impound it as evidence. It didn’t take an in depth knowledge of Spanish to understand El General’s demand for Capture, he said it several times.

We told General Miranda that some Peruvians say they want Police reform, we feel that the Peruvians must increase the budget and pay for much needed equipment, maybe even better wages for the Police force. In Paijan they do their reports on a manual typewriter and have no Internet Connection? Computers for word processing and Internet connection are essential for solution and prevention of crime!

Observations After Cycling for 3 Years
One Nightmare Will Not Spoil Our Life’s Dream!

Yes, we’ve been on the road since April 12, 2002. Having visited 42 counties and talked with thousands of people we find that the vast majority of them are good. This kind of terrible thing could happen anywhere, even in our own home town. We’ve cycled from Puno, across the Andes, through Cuzco and visited our dream, Machu Picchu. Then, on down to Nazca and along the coast through Lima, to Piajan and our fateful meeting with 4 bad guys and lots of good people here in Trujillo.

All’s Well That Ends Well!

Our trip would be completely incomplete without this visit to Peru. We urge others to come here, see this fantastic place and meet these wonderful people. Crime has nothing to do with poverty. I was raised in a poor family but my parents would have beaten me if I took things that belonged to someone else. Most crimes against tourists, here and in the world, are crimes of opportunity. If you’re careless you may be a victim. Always be cautious but don’t spend all your time looking over your shoulder. AND, don’t give up travel, one of the best things that life has to offer, because of isolated events like what has happened to us, we certainly won’t!

April 11, 2005

Another day in the life and times of WorldRiders2. Another unexpected bumper buffet. First thing on our agenda this morning is to contact our families and let them know about our event and that we’re okay. Struggling for words, as we sat at the computer, the walls and floor began to shake. We jumped up and ran to the door. A woman standing there said, “Small Earth Shake”. It didn’t feel small to us but then, maybe we’re jumpy? When the dust settled we began to laugh. An armed robbery and an earthquake, this is “So California”.

On the way to Casa Ciclista Mundo we stopped and talked with Reporters at the local newspaper. They were interested in our story and wanted pictures. Since the bikes are once again unloaded they accepted the picture from our remaining camera. The one that our surfing buddy Tom had shot of us in front of the Cathedral. .

Our meeting with Lucho and friends is outlined above. Igel and his wife Paola from Germany have been traveling by bicycle for 4 years. They’ve just added a new member to their family. Rambo is a Rat Terrier pup. They’ve now rigged up a trailer for Rambo and are preparing to get back on the road after a 2 month layoff. Alain is from Toronto, Canada. They’re all headed for Ushuaia. There’s also a Japanese guy, Jin and Spaniard, Gabrielo, staying here at Casa Ciclista Mundo. What a generous couple Lucho and Aracelly are.

As you know, the guys and I rushed off to Paijan. Cat shopped for replacement clothing. Nothing to her liking but she did compromise and buy shorts and a couple of t-shirts.

She spent her evening worrying about me and watching TV. I had the guys find a phone, the only working pay phone in Paijan at 11:00 PM. At first Cat was almost angry because I hadn’t called. Then she broke down and cried. She has been sitting and imagining all sort of terrible possibilities, all evening.

April 12, 2005
Front Page, Local News
3 Years on the ROAD!

I called Cat from Paijan at 8:00 AM. She’s been worried that we might have found the bad guys and they’d harmed us. With little or no sleep, she is anxious to have me get back to Trujillo. She will eat the wonderful buffet this morning. Lucho, Igel, Alain and I settled for coffee and bread in a noisy café.

Web-Master Wally has posted a notice that today marks the 3rd anniversary of our Voyage then tagged a note on abut our robbery. Cat spent much of the day answering the more than 300 congratulatory and condolence messages from friends. We heard from some that we weren’t even aware were still following our journal. Another good from the bad.

Front Page News

I called Cat again when we took a break for lunch. She filled me in on the message we are receiving and that the story of our robbery including the picture, had made the front page of the Newspaper, La Industria.

The boys and I got back from Paijan by bus at about 5:00 PM. I’d discovered that in my haste to get money before we departed yesterday I left my Debit Card in the machine at the bank. With Lucho’s help we found the right person to talk with. Yes, they had it but bank policy won’t allow her to return it to me. She says she must send it to CitiBank? Lucho presented her with a copy of the Front Page News of our robbery. She talked with the Manager and they bent the rules. We really do owe Lucho a huge debt of gratitude. Somehow, someday, we’ll repay it to him and his family.

An emotional reunion with “The Cat” then dinner at a wonderful place, DeMarco’s. A little TV then, much needed sleep for both of us.

April 13, 2005
Lucho, Aracelly and Casa de Ciclistas.

After another leisurely poolside breakfast we rolled the bikes out and rode to Casa Ciclistas. Lucho has wanted to see them. He can’t grasp how a bike can shirt automatically. We got pictures of “Inspector Lucho and the Paijan Vice” then with Gabrielo’s help Cat wrote a list of items we’ve lost, in Spanish. Lucho wants to take it to General Octavio Salazar, the Chief of Police, when we meet with him tomorrow.

Stuck in a Peruvian Prison

The Casa is a truly remarkable place. Another guy, Jean Claude from France, came in. A frequent guest of Lucho and Aracelly’s he has a very sad story to tell. A Professional Photographer, 7 years ago he brought his girl friend with him here, on assignment. When the job was completed and they were at the airport preparing to board a plane to France the Police discovered Cocaine in their luggage. The girl friend had stashed a bag to take back home. She had a little son back home and Jean Claude couldn’t bear to see here sent to jail so he “took the wrap”. He spent the next 5 years in Peruvian Prisons and as he says in limited English, “They’re not a pretty places”. His teeth have rotted away but his outlook on life remains bright. His sentence includes 2 years of Parole. He can’t leave the country until next October. What of his girl friend? Indebted forever, she has married another and moved on.

The GOOD from his BAD experience is simple. He has to live on what little his relatives can send as he can’t get a permit to work in Peru. So, he bought a bicycle and has ridden most of the Caminos and visited the beautiful places of Peru in the past year and a half. And, thanks to Lucho and Aricelly he always has a place to stay and food to eat when he returns to Trujillo. So, life and love dealt him a terrible hand. However, he didn’t shrivel up in a ball of hatred or self pity and he’s not bitter. He’s found good and beauty in the world and though he is anxious to return to his native France he has a new life and lots of friends in Peru.

April 14, 2005
A Visit With El General Octavio Salazar

Our appointment with General Salazar is 9:00 AM. Lucho wanted us to meet at his place at 8:30. He was late, futzing around with a bicycle. I told him that I like to get to appointments on time. He scoffed and said something that may have translated “Peruvian Time” and El General. I reiterated that El General’s time is his own but we should show at 9:00.

Alain came along as interpreter, The 4 of us piled into a taxi and were at the Main Police Station at 9:10 AM. Then began the wait, a two hour wait. Finally the Chief swept with an entourage, like a Rock Star. This morning they raided the Black Market and confiscated tons of stolen merchandise. So, he had a good excuse. We’re hoping that they got some of our things. He didn’t think so.

After listening patiently to Lucho, he called Paijan. The Chief there is subordinate to El General. When he told El General that he’d let the confiscated Moto go back to the Driver whose brother took part in our robbery he started to yell. Maybe just for us or just to exercise his authority? At any rate he made it clear that the Moto was evidence and must be impounded. Lucho loved hearing that. With our limited Spanish and the help of Alain we learned that El; General had told the Chief of Paijan, in no uncertain terms, that he wants these guys brought to justice. Well, it all sounded good but turned out to be all talk. We did pose for a picture with El General for our journal.

Lucho led us to a Kodak Shop where we had prints made of it and several others. I had our photo of Lucho and Aricelly enlarged, too. Oh, and we had 50 copies of the photo of us at Abra La Raya made. A neat trick we’ve seen used by other cyclists. Handouts for interesting people we meet along the way. I also had the picture of Clemente, the Restaurant owner at Kilometer marker 348, who loves cyclists enlarged and will find a way to get it too him.

A sandwich lunch and a relaxing afternoon that included some Internet time. Our inventory of photos is complete. Because we had just unloaded the cameras we only lost the few that were in the camera. Wally is going to make copies and send them via e-mail so that we can place them in the text of our next journal pages.

Steak and Cabrito downstairs, again. Pretty good stuff. Met a guy, John from Ottawa, Canada. He too is connected with the mines here but has Motorcycle toured most of South America.

April 15, 2005
Transcription to Spanish
Preparing To Get Back Out There!

After a leisurely breakfast looking out onto the pool Cat went back to the shopping street to buy another pair of shorts and an extra t-shirt. The article above was prepared for the Newspaper but they would only accept it in Spanish. I felt it was worth the effort and money so, with the help of the nice lady at the front desk we found the Institute of Culture and a guy who could translate it.

Then, back to Casa Ciclista. We have photos for Lucho, Igel and Alain and we’ve put messages on the back of the Abra La Raya pics for all of those staying there. Lucho and Aricelly were ecstatic over the big picture of them. We have to sign the guest book but it’s so interesting to read that it’s hard to write.

Aricelly insisted that we stay for lunch. Angela, daughter of Lucho and Aricelly came in from school and joined us. She’s a cute 12 year old. Igel and Paola and Daniel a young guy who works on bicycles with Lucho, sat in, too. He lives in Lima and cycles back and forth making the trip in as little as 2 days albeit long days. He volunteered to take the picture to Clemente. They know each other and Daniel often sleeps there when commuting.

Back to our pit of luxury and the included Internet for most of the afternoon. Well wishes and good thoughts continue to pour in from friends. Inspired by Aracelly’s home cooking we decided to have Chinese food in, for dinner. The Girls at the Front Desk helped us order and we took a to pick it up. Some pretty shady looking back streets but the food didn’t taste second rate.

A very relaxing evening of food and entertainment. Even our favorite Attorney show.

Nervous As a Cat On a HOT TIN ROOF!

Cat has been edgy in crowds, always nervous and looking over her shoulder since starring down the barrel of the Pistola. Her dreams or perhaps nightmares involve clunky old cars pulling up, taking our things and beating me up. One of our friends, Sharmain in South Africa, has suggested that she should have counseling. Tough to do here in this Spanish speaking place. My dreams differ, I see myself standing up to the robbers, taking their guns and beating them. Could it be one of those differences between the sexes? She feels afraid, I feel ashamed that I didn’t do something heroic like Rambo or our Governator might have. Then I try to remember that the guns pointed at our super heroes are shooting blanks and they know it. They have a script, they know the outcome before the shooting starts. So, I Placate myself by repeating the old adage, “He who shirks and runs away will live to shirk another day”.

April 16, 2005
Article to La Industial, Photo to General

Another lovely breakfast, we’ve been lucky, no smokers to spoil the view and air. Then, off to the Institute to pickup the finished copy of the article in Spanish. The young man that did the work wasn’t there but left word for us to pay the cashier. The paper looks very professional. The Lavanderia was nearby so we did double duty and got the clean cloths.

Rushing back to meet Lucho by 10:30 AM. He was again running on Peruvian time. It didn’t really matter, we were just taking the enlarged photo to El General Salazar as a memory of our bad luck. Cat struck off in a different direction in search of an envelope to put the photo of Clemente into. The General wasn’t in and wouldn’t be back until late afternoon. We left the Photo with a guy who claimed to be his Secretary.

Lucho questioned the Secretary about the things recovered in the Black Market raid. He told us where to go to check on our items. Another Police Station a few blocks away and it was busy. They were unloading bicycles, hundreds of stolen bicycles and wheeling them into a courtyard. We found the Captain but he told us that they didn’t find any laptop computers or Sony Cameras. He insisted that we look for ourselves. Too bad we weren’t in the market for a TV, they had hundreds stacked wall to wall in a huge room. We think he was just placating us by walking around and pointing out the few desktop computers. Nice guy but no cigar.

We dropped the article off at La Industrial then I dropped Lucho and fast tracked it to the Hotel and the toilet. Yes, the Guff-Guff has returned with a vengeance. I sat at the computer most of the rest of the afternoon. Cat did more Internet and e-mail things downstairs. It is so handy to have Internet Access included in the services of the hotel. Makes us wonder why some smart operators give it and others try to make it a tiny dollar profit center. The aggravation of deciding whether to pay their excessive amount or find a nearby Cyber Café should make them wonder, if they’re even aware?

Lucho dropped by to check on us. I gave him a tour of the Hotel. We’d thought about inviting he and his family to come swim. It might have been intimidating but beyond that, Angela is in school until after 4:00 PM.

A Long Jump Past a Bad Place!

Our pals at Casa Ciclista convinced us not to cycle from Paijan. Cat was sure she didn’t want to anyway. Our first plan was to bus to Chiclayo, spend the night then mount up there. They all urged us not to ride across the hot arid Desierto de Sechura. Too isolated, we’d have to camp and security isn’t that great there. That’s all it took for Cat to make up her mind. Not wanting to put Lucho out anymore we took a taxi to the bus station and bought our tickets for tomorrow’s journey. It was a quick trip with one necessary comfort stop at the station for me as Cat made the deal. With tickets to Piura in hand we hustled back at Libertador, I climbed into bed, she returned to the Internet. It was dinner of white rice for me, in the room. Not feeling well at all, I couldn’t help Cat prepare our bags for tomorrow’s bus trip.

Sunday, April 17, 2005
Big Igel and Paola Send Off
300 Ks on a Bus to Piura

Up and at em’ early. Our last great breakfast then off to Casa Ciclista by 8:00 AM. Igel and Paola were planning to leave early this morning to beat the heat. Using a taxi we arrived right at 8:00 to find that they were running on Peruvian time. They’re not even packed yet. We decided to go back and get our bags ready then return at 10:00, a more realistic departure time for them.

Back to the room and a packing frenzy. We were ready to go and on our way back before 10:00. A crowd has gathered. Lucho always gets friends to ride the first few Ks with departing guests. It was quite emotional, we were saying goodbye to all of them, too. Igel and Paola have been here for a couple of months but had also spent time before they went back to Columbia to get Rambo.

Finding the Perfect Dog in The Drug Country

Igel and Paola cycled into Trujillo then got word from a friend that he was flying from Germany to meet them in Columbia. He hadn’t seen the update on their whereabouts so they decided to take a bus and meet him there. During their visit they began to plan on buying a dog to accompany them. Their first choice was a Jack Russell Terrier but they decided that a Jack Russell would be too small to withstand such a journey. Then they discovered a larger variety known as Rat Terrier.

After answering ads and disliking the conditions of the breeder’s kennels they found a guy on the Internet who had only Rat Terriers. Traveling by bus they found him, liked him and the look of the place. It was clean and the dogs well groomed. They asked if they could camp on his property while they studied which of the dogs he offered for sale would best fit them. They slept in their tent the first night then the guy invited them into his home. A few days later he came to them and said, “Take any of my dogs, even my favorites, even ones not for sale. I want to give it to you for a gift”. Of course they fell in love with Rambo, the guy, his family and Colombia. In fact they are going to move to Colombia when time comes to settle down. They love the place and have urged us not to be afraid. They say that the stories we hear of drugs, guns and kidnappings are way overstated. For them it has been the nicest cycling in all of South America.

Another Case of the Best and Worst

This is another case of the best and worst experiences of our Odyssey. Venturing into the unknown, exploring new places and meeting new people is the Best. Always saying goodbye to good friends is the Worst of it. After the tears, the hugs and kisses Igel loaded Rambo into his new trailer, we posed for photos with the group then they rolled. Back down the street at first so we could have a pic of the pack. Then with waves and shouts they were off, down the street, around the corner and into the next leg of their adventure. Jin, Gabrielo, Jean Claude, Daniel and Alain were among the group. Tough for them to maintain the slow pace set by the two carrying such a load.

(Matt can you bring this up to 70% so we can see the cycl