When the sun disappears behind the mountains, the temperature can easily drop by 15 degrees instantly. If we are lucky, we are then ready to dive into the tent. With a bit of bad luck, we still have to set up everything and wash ourselves. We usually do this with a cloth soaked in cold water. With cold wind, this quickly becomes a bit of a torture. Since we usually have a hot lunch in a restaurant in the afternoon, no one has to sit outside in the cold to cook in the evening. We make sandwiches in the tent, deeply tucked in our sleeping bags and with all our clothes still on. Now that the evenings are so cold (sun gone = freezing) we regularly make a ‘hot water bottle’ by filling my liter bottle with hot water. What a pleasure it is to thaw and warm our feet this way. We often listen to a podcast together, chat a bit and then do some reading or (in Paul’s case) writing! Paul has the talent to write his blog in pieces spread over several evenings in the tent, on his phone. I need a whole day, in peace, with the laptop on my lap and utmost concentration. When one of us has finished a blog, we always ask the other to read it, correct spelling mistakes and sometimes clean up memories. When I read Paul’s blog of our trip from Ollantaytambo to Huancavelica I really liked it (and had little to add). So the blog below is from Paul! Of course I couldn’t resist adding a few things here and there (after all, it’s just like real life). I’ve done so in bold letters.

Enjoy this beautiful ‘guest blog’!

After Machu Picchu, we have one more mission: Peru Divide. A crown jewel among bikepacking routes. And we choose the most beautiful parts there, because we don’t have the time and energy to do the entire route. We start in Huancavelica, where we will have to get first..

The plan is to cycle from Steffen, our warmshowers host, to Cusco. There, take a bus to Ayacucho and cycle from there to Huancavelica.
That starts off well. On the day of departure, we arrive in Cusco at dusk, which is a day earlier than planned. We hoped to be able to take a shower at a ‘casa de ciclistas’, but nobody (in the vegan restaurant) knows what to do with that plan.
At the bus station, we choose a night bus. And next to the station is a hostel where we are allowed to shower. We even have time to eat something before the bus arrives.

The bus looks nice from a distance, but less so up close. Loading the bikes is the first source of annoyance. The man says that it is 20 Sol per bike, while when buying the tickets I asked up to 5 times whether it really is 10 Sol per bike. “Yes really!” the lady said over and over again. But she did not want to give me written confirmation of this. She knew very well that it would be more, but that we would not be able to go back if we already had seats and the bikes were already half in the bus. I hate these kinds of games and the bus driver noticed that too. We end up at 15 Sol per bike. But for that money I apparently cannot expect caution 😒.
When he steps out of the loading area I point out a huge tear in the rear tire of his bus. “No problem. There is an even bigger one on the other side!” he laughs.

We get into our first class ‘compartment’ with wide seats that can almost go completely flat. And air conditioning and wifi, but of course they don’t work. There is entertainment, but only on the phones of our fellow passengers who are shamelessly scrolling through Insta, TikTok or YouTube at high volume. Hera and I don’t understand this behaviour, but no one else seems to be bothered by it. Must be a cultural difference.

The toilet stinks terribly, no wonder, because more people have peed next to the toilet than in it. There is also no water to wash hands or flush. Due to the lack of air conditioning or even ventilation, it is muggy in no time. Fortunately, the rear tire blows out, which I pointed out to the driver. So we can at least get some fresh air… Uhh no. There is no spare tire, so we drive 40 km further to a village. There, after shouting and banging on the windows, we are allowed to go outside for a while.

How thankful I am that Paul made the effort to get us out! It was like a sauna in that bus!

After a considerable delay we drive further into the night, but before dusk we are at a standstill again. An engine problem… After a temporary repair we can continue to the next place where this bus has to stop its journey. Everyone is transferred to minivans of ‘Ecotours’. Against my will, the bicycles and bags go on the roof. We thought we had already experienced the worst with our driver to Machu Picchu, but this possessed idiot takes it to the next level. He tears as if the devil is on his heels. Honking, overtaking, screeching tires and, inevitably, luggage falling from the roof. Fortunately nothing from us, but bags full of vegetables from a woman who probably had to earn her bread with them. What is this all about?!? While I help to save vegetables from the verge, I ask the driver if he could drive more slowly. He nods without looking at me. Says nothing, shrugs his shoulders, puts his hood up and tears on.

The vans here almost without exception have a large sticker on their front and/or rear window with a text like ‘Jesus es mi protector’ or ‘Jesús es mi salvación’. That’s all well and good… but I think Jesus would also like it if the drivers here would take a little responsibility themselves. Often such a sticker also obstructs part of the view!

We arrive alive in Ayacucho. I could kiss the ground and kill the driver. I don’t do either. Later I see that there is considerable damage to my handlebars and frame. In the Netherlands this would be enough for a refund, compensation or dismissal of the person responsible, but here we just have to swallow it.
So we do that in combination with all kinds of goodies that they sell on the street, such as pappa rellena (stuffed potato) and fresh vanilla ice cream.

In Ayacucho we decide to send some stuff ahead to make our bikes even lighter for the last stage: ‘La Gran Final’, the toughest and hopefully most beautiful months of our trip. We send about 12 kilos of equipment, clothing and souvenirs to an address in Lima, where we will pick it up again just before leaving for the Netherlands. Now let’s hope that we won’t need any more of it.

The next day we leave for Huancavelica. That should be 3 days of cycling. From there we pick up the famous Peru Divide route. Despite the lighter bikes it is hard work, up the mountain. The sun is hiding more and more behind the clouds, which makes it really cold. We dare not have high expectations, but there are supposed to be thermal baths 60km away… We make it before sunset and it is actually open. It doesn’t look good, but our first warm bath since our departure is wonderful! How nice to be warm from head to toe and to the bone. We sleep next to the baths in our tent.

We continue yesterday’s climb that gets up to just below 4800 meters. I am not feeling to good and again suspect the Giardia parasite. I have just driven over my own sunglasses: destroyed. We are being chased by rain (which at this altitude can also turn out to be snow or hail). And it is tiring… In short: I’m suffering today!

Just below the top a car stops with two over-enthusiastic young people in it. Brother and sister from Lima, who immediately invite us to stay with them when we get there. They have been to Ayacucho, her birthplace, with their mother. We are given tangerines, cookies, praise and hugs. And especially the latter I needed more than I realised. I imagine a hug from my parents and hold back my tears. Until they are gone, then I let them run. I have trouble understanding why this suddenly hit so hard. Such a small subtle hint to home…

The emotional release makes me feel better and puts my worries and annoyances into perspective. And that comes none too soon, because the descent is beautiful. Perhaps the most beautiful we have had in front of us so far. The mountains have all kinds of colours and shapes. And our narrow road meanders quietly through them. Countless photos can hardly capture the beauty and size of it. It is so impressive and ‘humbling’ to be allowed to drive here! The next village should offer us the choice between a more or less adventurous route, and a restaurant. The choice is made for us. There is no restaurant for the necessary energy, and it starts to rain… The first precipitation in months, and our rain gear is on its way to Lima 🙈. So we buy cakes and 2 pieces of agricultural plastics in a shop, which are made into a poncho. We continue on the road, the less adventurous route.

The next day we also need the ponchos more than I would like. However, we do cross another beautiful pass. The surroundings are partly white with snow, which more than makes up for the discomfort. Hera thoroughly enjoys these kinds of days. Raw, grand and intimidating.

We descend to a village where there is a municipal hostel where you can sleep for free. When we arrive there, tired and frozen, a man asks if he can help us. “Yes, of course! We would like to sleep here!” Without any sign of sympathy, he rejects our request. A native woman (who I of course wholeheartedly wish) is allowed in. The rejection without any understandable reason feels sour.
It is still 40 km and mainly descending to Huancavelica. Hera and I look at each other to judge whether that is still possible. We decide to go for it. The further we go, the wetter the surroundings. The road has become a mud stream. In the dark and completely covered in mud we arrive exhausted and frozen. After looking at four hotels, we check in at the only one that promises a hot shower. But unfortunately this also turns out to be an empty promise. The solar boiler has not seen any sun today, and they forgot to turn on the electric backup. Just a few more hours of patience… Grrr.

Well… you could say ‘GRRRRRRR GRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRR!!!!’. Paul has had it… he is boiling, hopefully that will warm him up a bit. I am a little annoyed and disappointed and crawl with my dirty clothes and body deep under the covers to at least warm up a bit. We sit shivering in bed until I finally decide to step under a lukewarm shower to wash the cold sweat from my body. It turns out to be a bad idea. I am shivering under the shower and my sore muscles only hurt more as they cramp under the lukewarm water. Paul is wiser, he waits another hour or two and then, finally, has a lovely warm shower. Just before midnight I jump under it one more time. Finally we both lie warm and clean in bed… exhausted!

We stay 2 nights in the tourist town of Huancavelica. During that time we do our usual preparations for an upcoming stage: wash clothes, withdraw money, do some shopping and I do a Giardia test, which turns out to be negative. Great!
A large procession of groups of young people goes through the streets, honouring their indigenous origins with traditional music and dance. It is a beautiful and impressive spectacle. The dedication with which young people embrace their culture is almost moving. Such heritage has died out in the Netherlands or even Western Europe. I am happy to see that it is still alive here.

Just as we want to leave the village I am stopped. By a Dutchman and a Belgian. We fool each other for a while by speaking English to each other. A little later two more Dutchies join us. It has been a long time since we met cyclists and it is nice to talk to them. Since the Peru Divide is a popular route we will meet (many) more of them. That reminds me of the days on the Carretera Austral, where we met dozens of them a day.
I am not sure if I consider that a plus, but I will take the chance. With pleasure!

That’s it! He’s such a good writer, isn’t he?! It was a really tough ride, from Ayacucho to Huancavelica, but I still enjoyed it immensely. We’ve since been freed from snow, hail and rain. And the nature… it’s only become more impressive! We cycle through the most otherworldly beautiful landscapes and enjoy it to the fullest. Even though that means regular climbs of over 1000 vertical meters per day. But you’ll read about that… of course, in the next blog!

For now, warm greetings from the Peruvian Andes,
Hera & Paul