Stage 3 of my South American journey

18 April - 13 Mai 2001

In La Paz, I stayed at the Hotel Oberland, a swiss chalet style hotel, 10km outside of La Paz. Very good, friendly, helpful and with a last minute price of 15$, cheap for what you get. I met Gerald from Backnang near Stuttgart and we travelled together for the next 3 weeks.

Walter Nosiglia had prepared my Transalp perfectly. If you are looking for a reliable motorcycle shop, Nosiglia Sport in La Paz-Calacoto is your choice.

From La Paz we went via the 4700m La Cumbre pass into the lowlands, the famous Yungas. The unpaved roads into the Yungas are often one lane, with hundreds of meters of steep cliffs and no protection whatsoever. The road to Coroico is dubbed the most dangerous road in the world. We intended to meet Birgit and Jo, who were travelling in Southamerica for several months, in Coroico. But the road was blocked by a truck that fell over a cliff and the rescue work took almost a day. We could not pass and turned around since it was already early afternoon and we wanted to reach a place where we could stay before it got dark.

Since we could not reach Coroico, we headed for Chulumani, a nice town on a hill, overlooking the djungle. There was a tense atmosphere in town, and the hotel-owners urged everybody to leave the next morning as soon as possible. Roadblocks were planned the next day, and last year the town was cut off for 3 weeks. We did not want to get stuck and left the next morning the same way as we came. The heavy rains at night had turned parts of the road into a quagmire, but with the new motocross style tires, my Transalp ploughed through the mudholes without problems.

Surprisingly, everything was quiet. Even in downtown La Paz. Bolivia played Argentina in a world cup qualification match that day. There seem to be more important things in Bolivia than staging a revolution.

We crossed the chaotic traffic of La Paz and got to the Peruvian border early in the afternoon. Since the football match was in full swing, nobody bothered us on the Bolivian side. Customs and immigration officials watched the match on TV.

We entered Peru, where our motorcycles were desinfected and went along famous Lake Titicaca to Puno, a sprawling town on the northwestern edge of the lake. We took a boat tour to the famous Islands of Uros, Amantani and Taquile, where indigenous people live in their traditional ways. We walked on the grassbottom Uros islands, stayed in a native house on Amantani island where we were received with great hospitality and moved on to the island of the knitting men Taquile. All three Islands were under a strong pressure by the influx of tourism, but it seems, that the indigenous village councils are determined to fight the slow but steady growing influence of modern life. But despite all efforts, it seems that this fight will eventually been lost and the unique culture of each island will fade away gradually.

From Puno, we took, against the advice of local people, the road to Arequipa. I thought that the warnings were exaggerated and as a gringo, nothing can happen to me. This road is heavily used by trucks and buses, but has not been maintained for 2 years. Huge potholes, washouts, mudholes, and sand slowed us down to an 10-20km per hour average of highly concentrated riding. It took us 12 hours in 2 days to travel 190km of dirtroad. Once, my concentration slipped and so did my motorcycle. A bruised sidepanel and some bruises on my chest was the penalty for this. We spend a cold night on the altiplano, where we were surprised to see a group of lamas close to our tent in the freezing morning. They seemed to be even more surprised than we were, when Gerald started his XT with its emptied out pipe. The countryside on this road is spectacular, snowcapped volcanoes, a saltlake, and a pass of 4600m allow impressive views. Due to the often bad state of the road, we were more focused on the potholes than on the countryside. The last part of the dirtroad led us from 4200m down to Arequipa at 2200m, with a breathtaking view of the perfectly shaped volcano El Misti.

Arequipa, Perus second largest city is dominated by huge Volcanoes. It has a very nice climate of never ending spring weather and a lively colonial center. It is one of the most beautiful cities I have seen in Southamerica. The highlight is the 16 century convent of Santa Catalina. Protected from the bustling city by strong walls, the nuns lived in a medeaval spanish village, with nice plazas, fountains, small buildings and a huge church.

200km north of Arequipa is the Land of the deep Canyons. Cotohuasi Canyon and Colca Canyon are considered to be the deepest in the world with 3200m and 3400m twice as deep as the Grand Canyon, respectively. Its interesting how the depth is measured. They take the highest mountains on each side of the valley, draw a line between them and then take the deepest point of the valley below this line. With this method, many valleys in the Himalayas and even some in the Alps (i.e. Rhone valley between Aletschhorn 4195m, Brig 684m and Dom 4595m) would be deep enough to compete with those two.

But tourists go for superlatives, and we jumped on the gringotrail to Colca Canyon as well. We met Birgit and Jo again and had a nice breakfast at the Canyon rim at Cruz del Condor where we watched giant Condors sail by almost at arms length. They seemed to be attracted by our spread out breakfast buffet.

Via a truck infested dusty gravel road we went to Cusco. The ancient capital of the Inca empire deserves a longer stay than I could afford. My vacation was running out, and after three days of visiting Inca temples and fortresses, churches and monasteries, I had to start my way back to La Paz. But not before visiting the famous lost city of the Andes, Machu Picchu. This was the most memorable visit of the entire trip. On a steep ridge lies a city, almost intact, just the roofs are missing. Very impressive and mystical. There is no road to Machu Picchu and all the tourists arrive by train or take the strenous Inca trail, hiking for three days at altitudes between 2500 and 4200m. The train ride was nice, although expensive. Added to the 20$ entrance fee to the ruins and the 10 $ for the short bus ride from the station to Machu Picchu, this became an expensive but worth while excursion.

I said goodbye to Birgit, Jo and Gerald and went back via the newly paved Altiplano road to Puno and further onto Copacabana on the Bolivian side of the Lake Titicaca. A priest blesses vehicles every morning at 10h. I decorated my motorcycle in the local fashion with flowers and colourful papers and waited for the priest. He gave my Transalp a nicwe blessing. At Walter Nosiglias shop in La Paz I parked my Transalp again, asked for some minor repairs be done, and flew back home. In three weeks I travelled 2500km through the djungles of the Yungas, over the highest mountain pass (4890m) so far, between the majestic volcanoes and deep valleys of the Andes and over the windswept highlands of the Altiplano.