Author: lauradeave
After the Tour is Before the Tour…
Our trip to the Galapagos was a truly unique experience, there is no place like it in the world. There is wildlife round every corner, whether underneath your feet, above you or in the surrounding waters and often you only needed to walk out of the hotel and round the corner to see these amazing creatures, many endemic to the islands. We decided to ‘go it alone’ so to speak, rather then get an expensive cruise that we couldn’t afford, for us this was a great decision. Having travelled on our own steam, doing our own thing for the past year the shock of being put on a boat with a whole load of strangers being told what to do and where to go would have been too much for us. When we saw the ‘beige explorer’ clad North American OAPs on said tours we were relieved not to be following!
I am not going to list everything we saw (as is common with Galapagos travellers) but just highlight some of the most memorable and special encounters. For me, swimming with sea turtles and sea lions was incredible. At one point we must have been in the same area of water as about forty sea turtles, all just munching some algae and elegantly moving through the water with a nonchalant air that only turtles can master. The sea lions were different; they were far more playful and would swim under and around you with intrigue and curiosity. I guess there is something about witnessing these incredible creatures in their underwater environment and completely at ease with us being there. Sam loved the white tipped sharks, we were told that they don’t tend to bite unless you dangle a foot in front of them…we floated on the surface as quietly as possible, keeping our hands and feet very much out of reach!
The islands were also lovely places to be, they were relaxed and beautiful with plenty of delicious lobster and seafood on offer as well as everything you could imagine with ‘Galapagos’ written on! Having said that, we found that we weren’t enveloped by other tourists, it was actually very quiet – most of the punters were on their posh boats! We walked, swam, snorkled, cycled, watched, waited and wondered…an incredible way to finish our time in Ecuador.
We then packed and started our journey home, stopping for two days in New York, which was busy, expensive and overwhelming but fun all the same. I had a strange moment when sat waiting for ‘Matilda’ the musical, to start on Broadway. I realised that this is a completely different life, living off the grid on our bikes is over for now and replaced by something much more real and scary. You think travelling by bike in Central and South America may be a nerve racking experience, you would be wrong – real life is far more daunting.
Arriving home is always strange after being away for a long time and this time was no exception, but nothing beats seeing your family, eating a roast dinner, taking a relaxing bath and that first sip of gin and tonic. There is no better feeling as long as you savour that moment and not look too far ahead and spoil the magic!
Our adventuring is not over, life is an adventure and as a very wise German friend said ‘After the tour is before the tour’. Time to start planning the next ‘spin’. But for now we will ride our road bikes fast up hills that don’t last forever…we will enjoy the seasons of England changing through the year and creating a variety and beauty that other parts of the world miss out on….and we will revel in the fact that we are able to explore, return to a safe haven and then explore some more. We really can’t complain.
The Last Leg
Our decision not to rush through Ecuador and race for Peru was a good one, we have been able to soak up the beauty and majesty of the Ecuadorian Andes to their full extent. However, it meant that on arriving in Cuenca at the end of our last day cycling there was not much fanfare or applause…it was just the end of another days riding and rather an anticlimax. The road was busy, I had stomach ache, we shouted at one another and it rained.
Our last week wasn’t all bad though! From Latacunga we headed down to Baños, then continued on a very dusty road, that kept detouring due to landslides and volcanic activity, to Riobamba. From there we took a bus to Chimborazo. We had many debates in previous weeks about climbing the volcano…a tempting prospect as it is the mountain closest to the stars due to the Equatorial bulge. However, the trip required some mountaineering experience so we thought we would go away and get some before attempting the climb! We settled to walk in the park. It was chilly and desolate as we set off and the weather rapidly closed in around us, about halfway to ‘base camp’ it started to snow. We weren’t prepared for this and rapidly flagged down the next pick up to come along. The view from 4900m was minimal but we caught glimpses of the snowy monster of Chimborazo above us before starting our descent back to the road. The visibility got worse and we were offered a lift down…but as we had already cheated once we rejected the offer, five minutes later we were regretting that decision as the snow turned to rain and we trooped down cold and wet to quickly flag down a lift in a warm car back to the city.
The Ecuadorian Andes have been windy, often against us and in strong gusts which are hard to handle, doubling the effort required to move forward and generally pretty soul destroying…however sometimes it is behind and acts like a little helping hand up the hills. With the wind comes the dust and we found ourselves having to wash our eyes out when we stopped. Sam found the amount of dirt on my face at the end of the day bizarrely amusing, his beard just disguised evidence on his own.
We felt a little like we are marching for home. And march for home we did over the next few days, up hill and down valley one after the other. We were surrounded by spectacular scenery and in one particularly memorable camping spot, the clouds were laid out below us like a stormy sea, frozen in action. Incredible.
Our last night on the move was spent camped outside a restaurant near the Inca site of Ingapirca. We thought we should end in style and camp on the side of the road without paying a penny! Ingapirca was an interesting and tranquil place on the ancient inca trail towards Peru, nothing like the scale of the sites in its neighbouring country but beautiful all the same.
Then we arrived into Cuenca…wet, tired and a little grumpy but pleased to have finished what we started when we set out 11months before. It’s not everyday that you finish a 7132mile (11,503km) trip through 11 countries, confronting every type of weather and terrain, pushing ourselves to our limits (and beyond?!) and spending most of that time with just one other person and the four wheels we bought all the way from England to help us out! But it has been wonderful. The tough moments make the elation greater, the special moments make the tough ones disintegrate. This is the ebb and flow of life on a bike, a life that we have become very used to over this past year. As it comes to an end we are both realising how much we will miss this life. Here’s to many more two wheeled adventures, it really is the only way to conquer the world!
First to the Galapagos, we have heard they have sunshine, sea and an abundance of wildlife…so we thought we had better take a look for ourselves!
Volcanes, Valles y Viento
The awe inspiring landscapes continued as we cycled towards Cotopaxi national park. We had been longing to glimpse the iconic volcano since entering the region and, having caught a fleeting glimpse of the white rugged peak the evening before, we were keen to witness it in all its glory. It was a beautifully clear morning when we cycled towards Cotopaxi, surrounded by four volcanos it was like nothing we had experienced before. The road through the park was rough gravel, uphill and into a head wind…but like most tough rides this was more than worth it to be so close to such a majestic monster, and on our own steam. As we rounded the edge of Cotopaxi it was lost from sight in the clouds and we descended from the chilly, windswept environment at 4000m, down towards civilisation once more.
We had a very cold nights sleep just outside the park and left the next morning to start the Quilotoa loop. This is a popular circuit amongst hikers who tend to do sections of the 100mile route on walking paths. Being on bikes we planned to do the whole loop via the roads (or gravel tracks much of the time). We left the base of Cotopaxi for a tough day with lots of climbing, we found ourselves constantly descending towards the river and then having to climb all the way back up which was a little soul destroying, we spent a lot of time wondering why there are not bridges across Andean valleys?! The final battle of the day was to reach a village 14km off the loop…so we slid down a rough gravel track to the river and started to climb all the way up the other side. By this point we were knackered…and being tired on steep gravel is not an option. It takes so much more effort to push over the bumps with our heavy bikes and we walked a lot. It began to get dark and with another 5k still to go I was despairing. In true Laura style I cried, then decided there was nothing for it but to carry on…then got a second wind which left Sam in the dust wondering what had happened to his previously exhausted girlfriend. We arrived in the dark and were immediately welcomed into the warm hostel for a meal and a shower. Going from being on the dark, empty, bumpy road to the warm, bright hostel full of smiling walkers was a little bizzare!
We rested after that exhaustion and we rested in style as our hostel had a spa, so we were able to properly relax in warm water and steam…a long way from our normal lives!
They don’t close the roads here if they are building or adapting them…they leave them open for cars, buses, trucks and cycle tourists to negotiate the surface and dodge the construction vehicles. This isn’t ideal and made for tough and horribly dusty riding, with the added fear that you might get squashed or pushed off the edge. But a new road emerged and it was lovely and smooth!
On the second to last leg to Laguna de Quilotoa, the hills were knee crunchingly steep and into a ferocious headwind…but when we arrived to the enormous crater lake, that the locals say has no bottom, it was beautiful. And we managed to beat the walkers who we had met at the beginning of the loop, not really a fair competition but still…!
We descended from the lake at 4000m to Latacunga, where we rested and tried to decide how to spend our last week on the bikes.
Bigger, Higher, Steeper
Things have improved enormously since our last blog, we both feel better (almost normal!),are back on the bikes and quickly gaining strength as we continue through the Andes.
On our way out of Colombia we stopped in Las Lajas, a notable pilgrimage site with a spectacular church built on a bridge over the river. It was a Saturday and the place was chaos, little did we know that it was a religious festival and were turned away over and again from hotels…eventually ending up in a single room in an old nunnery. Sam took the floor and after an uncomfortable night on the hardest imaginable bed I was not sure who drew the short straw! It was a strange place.
We loved Colombia and were sad to leave…we stopped for breakfast between the borders and had one last taste of the Colombian spirit as we watched Nairo blitz a stage of the Vuelta de España with a large enthusiastic group of money changers. Then we were off into Ecuador and immediately greeted by spectacular mountains and smooth roads.
However, Ecuadorian roads seem to either be beautifully smooth tarmac, rough dirt or cobbled. That dreaded word has come back to haunt us and the dreaded cobbles are back in full force…usually up hill and for miles on end.
We stayed in a spectacular spot above Otavalo but having battled on the afore mentioned nightmare surface to get there we felt obliged to stay for four days to make the most of it and delay the bumpy return ride. This relaxed attitude was also due to the fact that we have changed our schedule…we no longer have the goal of getting to Peru but plan to spend the remainder of our time in Ecuador rather than rush through a country that appears to have a lot to offer. This has had a profound effect on my mindset and i feel incredibly relaxed and unhurried. Shall we stay another couple of days in this amazing place…why not?!
We did eventually leave, bumped down the hill and continued south towards the Equator, stopping to camp the night with a local man called Valentin who was incredibly kind and hospitable in a very understated way, he made a fire, cooked eggs and brewed fresh mint tea for us. Over and above what you expect from a campsite host.
A short distance south from Valentin’s we met the Equator and crossed from the Northern to Southern Hemisphere in the blink of an eye. We stopped to take the obligatory pictures before continuing to the outskirts of Quito where there is a renowned casa de ciclista. Santiago and Anna Lucia have been recieving cyclists into their home for over twenty years and we immediately felt at home as we set up our tent in ‘the bunker’ as so many cyclists had done before us. This was not only a free place to stay but they offered advice, lent us a backpack and allowed us to leave extra luggage we wouldn’t need before returning to Quito in a few weeks time. We took the bus into Quito but after so much beautiful rural countryside it felt like just a big, smelly and rather uninteresting city – we are not city folk!
Camping seems abundant in Ecuador and we have been able to use our tent every night since arriving in this beautiful country. We left the smog and headed out into the countryside once more, immediately feeling calmer as the people and buildings lessened…I even openly accepted the rough uphill cobbled road to arrive at a quiet and free campsite at the entrance to Pasachoa National Park.
A stint on the busy Panamericana made us realise that we may prefer cobbles to traffic and we headed off again, uphill and bumping around but with an acceptance that it would be tough but worth it…and it was! At one stage a cobble jumped out at me and sent me crashing to the ground…it then started raining, turning these slick stones into the ultimate slip hazard. We spent as much time pushing as we did riding but as dusk began to fall the weather cleared and we saw the clouds below us and the mountains and volcanoes all around, basked in a spectacular dusky light. At 3600m we were breathless…but not just from the altitude and the exertion.
So far Ecuador has been awe inspiringly beautiful while simultaneously challenging physically and mentally. This is what we dreamed of when planning to cycle in the Andes. More of the same please!
Colombia in moving image…
Colombia has been more than a pleasure…and here is an insight into our Colombian experience…
A Frustrating Few Weeks
It has been rather quiet on the cycling front recently….I have been ill, and then Sam was ill. Being sick away from home is never fun, especially when it stops you from doing exactly what the trip is all about – cycling and enjoying the adventure.
I can reassure you that cycling and sickness don’t go hand in hand. I had been battling with not feeling 100% for a few months and after our tough ride to San Agustin my body shut down and we ended up staying in for a week. Sam entertained himself by going up and down the hill as fast as possible and I spent my time in bed with Harry Potter.
We eventually left but the two days ride to Mocoa were torture for me. I was weak and useless and cycling was tough but we had to get there and through a fair amount of pushing, lots of tears, gritty determination and enormous patience on Sam’s part we arrived in Mocoa to seek medical assistance. What is so disappointing about being ill is that I didn’t enjoy the ride, a ride on a quiet road in beautiful scenery should have been a pleasure.
When travelling you often have to decide whether or not to trust people…it is an instinct thing. We asked for help in finding me a doctor and then put our complete trust in the hotel owner as she roped in a Nurse friend, took me to a lab for tests and provided appropriate medication. With limited knowledge of the Colombian health system and limited Spanish to help us we had no option but to follow blindly as someone injected my bum, another took blood from my arm and another diagnosed my illness. All I can say is that we picked the right hotel when we arrived in Mocoa!
We were looking forward with slight apprehension to riding the ‘Trampolina de el muerte’ (trampoline of death) – a notoriously dangerous dirt road over the mountains from Mocoa towards Pasto. The road is well known among cycle tourists and we were keen to follow suit. Unfortunately, just walking up and down the stairs left me tired and there was no way I could manage it. Feeling like caged animals in Mocoa we had to find another way over the mountains and after a huge amount of debate we took a pick up truck and conquered the trampoline in a different, far less rewarding and comfortable style. It was a spectacular trip, if not a little scary with sheer drops, loose gravel and rivers to forge, all at the hands of somebody else. The surrounding mountains held the tell tale scars of rock slides among the otherwise inprenetrable forest…reminding us what a volatile environment we were in. The road was no exception with parts sliding off and others recently cleared from falls. We passed our Belgian friends on bikes and stopped to talk with them…part of me wishing I was out there with them, part of me thanking my lucky stars I wasn’t…all of Sam was itching to jump out of the window and join them in the thick of it.
Sibundoy was dull and cold and we left the next day on bikes. I got all of 8miles and discovered I couldn’t go on…so flagged down a pick up and left Sam to cycle alone. I found a small restaurant roasting guinea pig on a stick and this is where I sat for the 3 and a half hours while Sam battled the hill to meet me. Also not feeling 100% he began to regret his decision to carry on. The slope steepened and his power waned, a truck stopped as he was pushing his bike and offered to pull him on a rope…great idea. In desperation he agreed and described the experience as ‘the most scared he has ever been’, he bellowed at the driver to stop as it was impossible to control the bike as the truck picked up speed. Luckily his shouts were heard and Luis released him from the terrifying experience. However, the surge of adrenaline provided a new lease of life for Sams legs and the rest of the hill seemed less arduous. When he turned up to meet me he was blue with cold and exhausted – I vowed never to let him out of my sight again.
We then continued together to the shores of Laguna de Cocha. We struck lucky when turning up at a hotel that there was no way we could afford but being welcomed to camp in their spacious grounds. The following evening we were asked to accompany the owners daughter and husband in their cabin for dinner and a bed. It’s amazing what a log fire, good cheese, homemade bread, intelligent conversation and a warm bed can do for a couple of ailing cyclists!
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Processed with Snapseed.
Processed with Snapseed.
Processed with Snapseed.
Processed with Snapseed.
Processed with Snapseed.
We left the peace and tranquility of the lake and both managed (and enjoyed) the 20mile ride over the hill to Pasto….a big city that we decided looks at its best after dark. Here we will rest again before heading towards Ecuador.
Illness on a bike is debilitating….illness on a bike in the Andes is another thing altogether, but it’s onwards and upwards!
The Andean Adventures Continue…
After a day of doing absolutely nothing in Pereira we headed to the pretty tourist spot of Salento, a short but (inevitably) up hill ride away. We liked Salento well enough but it seemed to be struggling with the amount of tourists that now visit and possibly isn’t the same place it was a few years ago, this being said we went for a beautiful walk up the Cocora Valley…through farmland, cloud forest and majestic wax palm plantations, it was refreshing to use our legs in a different way.
As we were preparing to leave the next day two guys from the hostel were enquiring about our route and on discovering we were planning to climb up to ‘La Linea’ (Quite literally, ‘The Line’, the top of the spine of the Andes) over the mountains warned us against it…we set off debating whether or not the climb was a good idea. On reaching the town at the bottom of the hill we asked a mountain biker if there was a way up the hill without using our legs and he proceeded to take us round the town searching for appropriate transport..which turned out to be a large red truck. Riding in this was an interesting experience…the road was very busy with big lorries and buses and everyone was trying to overtake furiously…we were glad we weren’t cycling the relentless hill and battling with the traffic but the journey squashed into the truck wasn’t particularly comfortable…eventually we were deposited in the misty, cold world at 11,000ft. We felt a little apprehensive starting the descent in the cold gloom but hats and gloves on and off we went, spending the next few hours stuck behind huge lorries going slowly round the steep hairpin bends. As we descended the heat grew and we were soon stripping off the layers as we reached the valley at the bottom, disappointed to be hot again.
The dry heat continued as we descended further the following day, making our way to the ‘Desierto de Taticoa’. We felt that we just hadn’t had our fill of desert in Baja! We hit an unexpected 20mile dirt road section through the desert and although spectacular and quiet, it was hot and hard and the dry heat meant a never ending thirst and dry mouth, I found the constant sinking and sliding in the soft gravely sand very difficult and was pushing up a steep slope when a truck stopped and asked if we wanted a lift. There was only about 4miles to go but 4miles less to cycle was good with me…Sam begrudgingly agreed to accompany me and we sat on top of the truck clinging onto ourselves and our belongings for a rather bizarre and bumpy ride to the paved road. We waved the friendly Eduardo ‘adios’ and continued into the strange dry and rocky landscape of the desert proper. Famed for its spectacular stars and peace we were unlucky to find a cloudy Friday night, which meant no stars and noisy Colombians there for the weekend.
We have taken to having second breakfast regularly here in Colombia, food is cheap and there is an abundance of small restaurants to stop at, we also got another breakfast invitation from a local cyclist not long after we left our camp spot outside Gigante. Nicolai welcomed us into his home for eggs and coffee, he is not your average Colombian as he plays rugby and likes rock music…he does however love cycling and works in the coffee industry – very Colombian!
We struggled with the last few days to San Augustin…on our last day off we went for a long walk and then went straight into a 7 day riding streak…too much for our legs to handle. However, we were met with more Colombian kindness and hospitality which makes a massive difference to moral. We were accompanied by 70year old Jesus sitting in our slipstream for a good couple of miles, not sure how much riding he does with other people because he kept going into my back wheel but was very pleased to announce his age and be able to keep up. A young guy overtook us in a car and gave us water in a particularly hot up hill stretch, we then found him waiting further up the road with more cold water and words of encouragement. Finally on the last leg into San Augustin an elderly lady came down a narrow dirt track from her house wearing a woolly hat and grubby t-shirt and carrying a tray of coffee and sweet breads for us. Random acts of kindness.
We are now doing what we do best when we don’t cycle…eating and sleeping and allowing the legs to recover before the next onslaught of hills towards the Ecuadorian border. The cool mountain air of San Augustin is not a bad place to do this.
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Panama, the boat trip to Colombia via the San Blas islands and into Colombia as far as Pereira…
Welcome to The Andes
After much thought, debate and careful calculations we decided we would take a bus from Cartagena to Medellin. We would not make it to Lima in the allotted time without superhuman effort. Taking a bus with bikes is not necessarily a simple process, the frantic ride to the bus station in Cartagena made us realise that South America is a whole new level of chaos when it comes to city traffic. Motorbikes and scooters were weaving in and out of cars, hopping onto the pavement if necessary. Buses and taxis were looking for fares and paying little or no attention to others…we had no option but to follow suit and delve into the chaos. The bus took 15hours instead of 12 and we arrived bleary eyed in the morning in the middle of another scary Latin American city. We were not filled with enthusiasm for the ride to the hostel having seen several accidents from the window of the bus on the way into the city. But we were in luck, it was Sunday and ciclovia…which meant that one of the main roads was shut to traffic and open for bikes and pedestrians…and a wonderful experience it was too.
Medellin was spectacular and enormous in a huge Andean valley. We had deposited ourselves into one of the biggest mountain ranges in the world and the only way was up!
We left Medellin for the countryside and climbed out of the city, we turned onto a quiet country road and were grappling with the vertical incline when a mountain biker came down the hill, asked where we were heading and said the route that we were taking was impassable by bike. Ricardo was very friendly and we were inclined to trust him and his local knowledge so retraced our steps down the steep hill we had just struggled up. Ricardo then invited us to his house for second breakfast, which of course we accepted. We were struggling a little with the language barrier so he rang his son who rang his mate Carlos and we all went to a bar down the road for some translation!! More friendly Colombians to point us in the right direction and send us on our way.
We cycled up a spectacular valley and when we got tired and it got late we stopped at a restaurant and asked if we could sleep there, the rain arrived just in time for some sympathy and we slept on the floor of the restaurant in the dry. We left early the next morning for a day of uphill…and it really was up, we climbed 5800ft in 35miles and were both exhausted by the time we arrived in the picturesque town of Jardín. The ride was really beautiful and the higher we climbed the more spectacular the view became as we pedalled our way through verdant countryside with endless rows of coffee plants dotting the steep slopes.
A day off in Jardín consisted of hopping from cafe to cafe and enjoying the good coffee and spectacular surroundings. The Andes are not for the faint hearted and we left Jardín to climb up again, stopping at a passion fruit factory for an impromptu tour on the way. They supply passion fruits to Sainsburys! After stocking up on free tropical fruit the paved road ended and gave way to gravel and stones, it was incredibly quiet and breathtakingly beautiful but very hard. For me it was the biggest test so far with 7000ft of climbing on unpaved road…the day was full of tears and smiles, and a lot of gritty determination. We entered Rio Sucio as it got dark, descending towards the twinkling lights of the town and the hope of a hot shower and a warm bed.
So far Colombia has been something else. The people are incredibly friendly and welcoming, the views have been awe inspiring and the riding has been tough. After Rio Sucio we had another long day to Pereira, a long downhill allowed us to cover over 70miles but by the time we arrived in the torrential rain we were done. And we are still here…I couldn’t face getting on the bike today to pedal up more hills so a day off was called. The Andes are not to be under estimated!!
Out for a Spin 