'Don't drink the tap water!' This was one of the pieces of advice we were given about travel in Peru.
Before leaving Pisco to begin our desert voyage, we naturally stocked up big time on agua - more than 20 litres of the stuff! This water had one sole purpose - rehydration. With, 'surprisingly', no tap water to be found at our campsite, we used sea water (of which there was an abundance) to cook our pasta dinner. The next morning, my digestive system suffered from this bright idea. Out came the medication. Not the best start to the day. With the sun already high in the sky, we began our 2nd day of cycling in the 2nd driest place on earth.
We stopped at the next guarda parka's hut that we encountered. We were a little more than curious about the rat situation in the park. What we learned was not comforting. There is a rat problem at the beaches and La Mina is the most infested. Putting a positive spin on things, at least the 'most infested' was now behind us!
As we continued our mostly uphill climb through the park, I developed a migraine. Another tablet. Although I was feeling pretty awful at this stage, I could still appreciate my surroundings ...
As we continued cycling, I felt as if the wind was mirroring the increasing turmoil in my body. On one particular stretch of road, it could only have been described as ferocious. Taking on the resemblance of a Tour de France cycling team, we took it in turns to take the brunt of the head wind. When we took a breather for lunch, BOOM, I began to shiver uncontrollably. A ferocious temperature. More medication. That pretty much concluded our 2nd day of cycling.
That night, we camped far far away from any beach, in a very idyllic setting, with massive sand dunes protecting us from any balaclava-clad men and roaming rodents. A peaceful nights sleep was had by all.
The following day, we encountered a new challenge. Our water supplies were running low. We debated whether or not to take a detour to Laguna Grande. It meant doing extra kilometres with no guarantee of being able to buy water. Thankfully, our gamble paid off. And so it was at Laguna Grande, in a moment of sickness and weakness, that I almost insisted we return to Pisco by car. After enquiring with the local fishermen, we had discovered that this was a viable option. I was thinking, 'my body has had enough, it can't possibly take any more!'. Just when you think you have reached your limits, you relax for a few hours, eat something, and slowly your perspective begins to change. Onwards and very much upwards we went!
As we continued our journey through the park, we came across random huts that were literally in the middle of nowhere in this desert-like terrain. We chatted with one of the occupants who enquired as to our itinerary. Darkness would soon be upon us. Frank insisted that we would be cycling throughout the night. Needless to say the guy was a little more than shocked. First rule of camping: never let anyone know that you will be setting up camp. Second rule of camping: assume everyone wants to rob you. Frank and I both knew that there was no way we would be able to navigate in the pitch black of night!
On our way to makeshift campsite number 3, we encountered more challenging terrain. Here I am pushing Pamela uphill through the sand, breaking every couple of seconds not to catch a glimpse of the amazing scenery, but my breath!
So there we were, cycling away, albeit quite slowly, when we heard the beeping of a horn. It was our enquiring amigo and he was signalling to us. We were going the wrong way! There was no time to think what the consequences of this would have been. We had to focus all our energy on keeping up with this guy. Bicycle versus motorbike on sand. 'How the hell are we supposed to keep up?', I thought. Sure enough, we didn't. With darkness approaching rapidly we set up camp.
The following day was to be our last and perhaps most challenging day in the land of sand. With uphill climbs that required our combined strength to push each bike, we were hopeful that the end was nigh. On one particular uphill stretch a quad bike with what turned out to be two guarda parkas slowed to a halt beside us. Our discussion with the guarda parka at Laguna Grande regarding my health issues and our intention to return to Pisco had clearly been noted. The guarda parka in question, concerned for my wellbeing, had launched a search party! It was comforting to know that someone was looking out for us. They assured us that we weren't far from the road. And so with renewed enthusiasm we headed for the finish line :)
