Two bikes arrive in Cusco

I left Abancay knowing I had only 200Km over the mountains to get to Cusco. I figured at worst I would be there in four hours, looking for an hotel that wasn't full of tourists. The road climbed steadily over a mountain range and then down into a valley, following the line of a river and making for easier riding. It was raining on and off for the first time since Colombia, but after Central America I wasn't bothered by a little rain ;) A little before the mountain summit though the rain became hail for a few minutes and started to sting a bit. I was cold, too.

I'd reached about the halfway point when the rain stopped and it got pretty hot. I went roaring past another heavily laden bike pulled over at the roadside, it's owner was having a drink and gestured I should turn around. As I rode back up I caught the plate and it was from Panama, no one I knew then. But I was wrong.

A few bikers on solo South America trips (me included) have been in loose e-mail contact regarding progress and I had recently got an e-mail from a guy called Steve who was in the area of Nasca. We shook hands and gave our names and there followed a sort of light of comprehension ;) Steve was from the 'States originally but now resident in Panama. He'd been bumping into other bikers all over South America and riding with them for a bit. I was forced to admit I hadn't seen a soul since Jim and I went our separate ways in Fairbanks. The only touring bikes I'd seen had been heading the opposite direction!

I also found out that I wasn't the only one to have suffered sleepiness crossing the high altitude Pampa Galeras. Despite taking altitude sickness pills, Steve and the couple he had been riding with had felt so tired they had rather more sensibly pulled over and gone to sleep at the side of the road for a while.

After chatting a little we agreed to press on to Cusco together and Steve led off. It was interesting to follow another bike again, Steve's style was far more dirtbike than mine, pushing the bike into turns rather than hanging off like a sportsbike. We kept up a good pace until grey clouds loomed again and Steve pulled over to put some thicker gloves and layers on. He explained that for the minute or so it takes it is worth it to be comfortable, a trade off I never make. I always persevere and put up with cold hands. No idea why.

As we rode into Cusco, Steve stopped and asked for directions to the hotel he had booked. We found it easily, testament to how much better life would be if I spoke Spanish ;) I was able to get a room too and at a cost similar to the NASA Apollo budget, book myself on a tour of Machu Picchu the following day. Later that evening we went to a bar called Norton Rats, owned by an overland biker who came to Peru from the US and stayed. I had the best burger I've eaten in ages and sat chatting to Steve and the owner, Jeff, over a pint of Abbot Ale. Jeff had a guest book for passing motorcyclists so I made a little entry, then noticed that less than a month ago two guys had been there from Tunbridge Wells. It's a small world ;)

Machu Picchu tomorrow, at crazy o'clock in the morning. So I'm off to bed.

Frase.