Bursting through the Front Door

Traveling through Peru has proven to be eventful and memorable in unexpected ways. When we cycled in from Ecuador we did not exactly know what to hope for and we knew even less about what Peru would have in store for us. We had heard about its snowcapped mountains, its grueling trails and insane up- and downhills. Other cyclists had written extensively about their experiences and their accounts were full of fearsome tales of frostbite, suffering, and impressive feats of endurance. It turned out to be quite a different experience for us.

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Life in a Desert City

Lima, Peru is one of the driest cities on Earth where almost a quarter of the population has no direct access to water. The capital of South-America’s most ‘water-stressed’ country is unfortunately positioned and receives hardly any rainfall. Built on the Pacific coast, the city also suffers particularly from Peru’s unusual geography.

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Going Out the Backdoor

In Loja we had a tough decision to make; do we continue west and cross into Peru at the busy border town of Macará, or do we go south and cycle down the road less traveled to the relatively quiet crossing at La Balsa. Our sights were set on the second option. With the promise of adventure and hardship (which have proven to instill the most lasting memories in us) we were excited to continue into Amazonia all the way to Peru and not go back onto the PanAmerican Highway following the famously barren coast. Unfortunately Siska had her heart set on seeing the Pacific. So after due consideration (accompanied by a few beers) we decided to split up in Loja in order to meet up again later down the road. A tough decision if you realize that we have been cycling together ever since we met almost nine months ago in Baja California, Mexico.

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Baños to Zamora; Amazon Adventures!

After the desolate and exhausting hills of Cotopaxi National Park and the Quilotoa Loop, it was great to get off the bike and spend a couple of days in touristic Baños. We stayed in the hostal ‘Plantas y Blanco’, a place packed with ‘gringos’, but we didn’t mind. It’s funny, but when I am on a bicycle, I don’t really feel or see myself as a tourist. Most of the time, we are not even treated like tourists; hustlers leave us alone and nobody asks us if we want to join this or that tour. But the moment we get off the bike, we are exactly the same as someone who took the bus from Quito or the plane from Europe and the whole act starts, haha.

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