Exploring Machu Picchu
23. mai 2018, Peru ⋅ ⛅ 19 °C
After reaching the end of the Inca Trail yesterday, we were too tired to explore the lost city and chose to take the bus down to Aguas Calientes and return early in the morning. We hoped that this would enable us to miss the worst of the crowds.
Catching a bus at 7.30 am we once again began the tortuous ascent back up to Machu Picchu. When we arrived about 30 mins later we discovered that, although the crowds were smaller than the previous afternoon, the masses were already beginning to arrive. When I was last here in 2010, it was at the end of the GFC and global tourism was in the doldrums. At that time it was actually very quiet and we were able to wander almost anywhere we wanted throughout the ruins. That has all changed now.
Not only has the flow of visitors gone through the roof, but there have also been many restrictions placed on where you can now walk within the city. Apparently one of the main reasons for these new restrictions is the stupid obsession with people taking selfies. After several fell to their deaths in recent years in the attempt to take the ultimate selfie, now everyone else has to suffer for their narcissistic stupidity. I can never understand why some travellers feel the need to prove they have been somewhere by taking pictures of themselves in front of every landmark. Surely it should be enough that you know you have been to a place, without having to stand in front of it ?
We tried to avoid the worst of the selfie stick generation and were spellbound as our guide revealed to us many of the secrets of this remarkable construction. Even though much of the original city is still covered by jungle, the part you can see is absolutely breathtaking. It is an incredible testimonial to the engineering brilliance and tenacity of this race of people. Unfortunately it all rapidly came to an end when the plundering Spaniards invaded in 1532. In spite of their building genius, they had no real defense against the guns of the Spanish invaders. The rest is history.
After exploring the lost city we returned down the hill for a final time and then caught the bus back to Ollantaytambo. Then followed a tiring bus trip back to Cusco. Although Cusco is only about 35 km from Ollantaytambo as the condor flies, it is a tortuous 125 km by road. We arrived after dark and were bewildered at the chaotic traffic jam we drove straight into on the outskirts of the city. We gazed open mouthed through the windows of the bus as hundreds of tooting vehicles all jostled for survival on the rough and narrow streets. One thing is certain, I would NEVER be an UBER driver in Cusco.
We finally arrived back at the Casa Andina Hotel just in time to experience an underground earthquake of magnitude 4.8. Apparently it was 10 km right under Cusco city. As I said previously, South America is never boring.
We also received the news that tomorrow a city wide strike has been declared throughout Cusco. Most of the shops will be closed and the city will be in a partial lockdown. What was that I said about South America ?Les mer
We Reach Machu Picchu
22. mai 2018, Peru
With the last minute change of plans for our final day of trekking, the wake up time was brought forward to an unearthly 4.00 am in the morning. Fortunately for me the sleeping bag decided to become my vicious enemy during the night and I was awake and ready before any need for the wake up alarm.
I flashed the torch around the scattered ruins inside my tent, deflated the mattress for the final time and stuffed everything into the duffel bag. I was not really sad to be saying goodbye to my time in the tent and I couldn't help but feel that my days of camping have probably come to an end.
By 4.15 I had crawled out into the pre dawn night and noticed that not all of my fellow trekkers had awaken yet. I flashed my torch around to hasten their departures from the Land of Nod and proceeded to grab something to eat for breakfast.
At 5.00 am the order was given that it was time to move. We shouldered our bags, switched on our lights and formed a single line along the narrow walking track. At this point there is a dramatic drop down to the Urubamba and a single slip could prove disastrous. For some in the group it was probably a good thing that they could not see what was lying just a few centimetres away from each footfall.
After crossing the suspension bridge across the raging river, we climbed the other side and boarded our waiting bus. We all knew that we had less than 75 mins to catch the train as it passed through Ollantaytambo. This would not seem much of a challenge, but the roads here have to be experienced to be believed.
For the next hour we crawled our way along goat tracks, passing several other vehicles with only a few cm clearance on each side. In some places the road was almost completely blocked with piles of huge rocks. At one stage several passengers had to get out in order to lighten the bus and increase the ground clearance. Our guide started to get noticeably nervous at our glacial rate of progress
Just when we though the worst was behind us we noticed that the road ahead was blocked by a police roadblock. We all knew that if we stopped we would miss the train and the consequences would be disastrous. The only answer was to tell the driver NOT to stop. So that's what we did. The driver planted his foot and just ignored the waving policeman, narrowly avoiding running over his foot. We looked at each other in amazement. Would they send out an all points alert for the notorious Ghostriders in their runaway bus ???? Apparently not.
To cut a long story short we reached the train station with only about 5 mins to spare, scrambled on the train and settled in for the hour long trip back to where we had just started from earlier in the morning.
The train eventually stopped at the so called Km 106 point, deep in the jungle. If the famous Paddington Bear came from darkest Peru, this certainly looked like the sort of place that could have been his birthplace. We climbed out of the train and assembled at the start of the final leg of the famous Inca Trail.
After passing through the checkpoint we started out on what was probably the toughest section of the entire trek. The path climbed relentlessly up and up, so that the river was soon hundreds of metres below us. Once again our ageing legs ached and our lungs heaved as we trudged on and on. We did not reach the resting spot until we had climbed around 1000 metres from the valley floor. It was only then that the guide told us that we were the fastest group he had ever had on this climb. In fact we had cut 60 mins off the "normal" time for this climb. I guess that is not so bad for a group of elderly travellers !
For the next couple of hours the going was considerably easier as we passed through the magnificent rain forest known as the Jurassic Section. I must admit that you could almost be forgiven for thinking that we were walking through some sort of prehistoric forest, laden with miniature orchids, towering ferns and all manner of mysterious plants. Now and then butterflies fluttered through the dappled sunlight. It was a magical time.
The final major challenge in approaching Machu Picchu along this trail is to negotiate the famous "monkey steps". This is an almost vertical wall of 50 stone steps. Presumably it was built as a final defense to fight off any would be invaders of the city. Nowadays it does a great job in almost killing the daily army of trekkers as they approach the final stages to the Sun Gate. This section is best done on hands and knees, but once it is achieved you can rest assured that the city is almost inn view.
The final few hundred steps lead to the famous Inti Punku (Sun Gate). This is a narrow opening high in the mountains that allows the sun to shine directly into a window on the Temple of the Sun on the summer solstice. For the modern day trekker, the rewards of passing through the Sun Gate is that you get the most amazing view down to the city of Machu Picchu. This is a moment in anyone's life that I am sure they will never forget.
After a few moments of savouring the view and reflecting on our achievements, we began the final climb down to Machu Picchu itself. An hour later we were there. It was a pity that about 6,000 others were there also. Of course most of the huge throng had not arrived via the trail, they had just taken the bus up from the train station at Aguas Calientes, way down in the valley.
By that stage we were hot , exhausted and greatly dismayed by the huge throng of shoving and selfie stick carrying tourists that had invaded this sacred spot. We decided to quickly pass through and return early the following morning when it hopefully would be quieter.
Before we could descend to the town we had to wait about an hour in a huge line of jostling tourists, all waiting to catch a bus. It was not pleasant. We finally squeezed onto a bus and completed the hairy zig zag drive down to Aguas Calientes (Hot Waters). This town has developed solely because of the massive tourist traffic to Machu Picchu. It is full of expensive restaurants, bars and gift shops. Wandering pan pipe playing buskers do a roaring trade entertaining the wandering tourists who have just climbed off the train from Cusco.
For us, we just wanted a nice hotel, a shower and a clean bed. We actually got all three and a whole lot more. We find we had been booked into the best hotel in the town. With a tariff of around $500 AUD a night it was far above what we had been expecting to get. But we certainly were not complaining. We LOVED it. The El Mapi had beautiful rooms, luxurious showers, minibars, delightful beds, good Internet and a superb breakfast, in fact everything that an exhausted trekker could possibly want.
After enjoying a superb final meal with our main guide, I returned to my room and went to bed. It was about 9 pm, pretty late I thought.Les mer
Closer to the Lost City
21. mai 2018, Peru ⋅ ⛅ 21 °C
After another early start (but not quite as early as the previous day) we proceeded to follow the Rio Urubamba through the Sacred Valley. On our right hand side towered the huge Mount Veronica. At 5900 metres in height, it's ice capped summit dominates the surrounding peaks. This mountain was to be our companion for the rest of the trek.
The trek itself was undulating. The path never seemed to be horizontal and by noon the heat of the sun was quite overwhelming. Each time we reached a patch of shade we rejoiced at the temporary respite. Looking down we saw the turbulent waters of the Urubamba, seeming to show the way to Machu Picchu.
After another challenging day's walk we were very glad when we arrived at the permanent campsite at Apu Veronica. I had stayed there before on my previous trek in 2010, so the place had a familiar feel to it.
To protect from the howling winds at this point, the tents are covered by straw shelters. I am sure that the cooking staff were also glad to have something resembling a real kitchen to prepare our food in. There was even a sauna for those brave enough to face the searing heat inside. I certainly wasn't.
By this time in our trek we were all excited that the goal of reaching the Lost City of the Incas was due to be achieved the following afternoon, however in South America plans are apt to change at the last moment. And they did.
We had originally planned to travel a short distance in the train and then resume our trek a little further on. Without reason the train company decided that it would no longer stop at Apu Veronica and, unless we were willing to jump on a moving train, this plan was no longer possible.
The only alternative was to hire a bus to take us all the way back to Ollantaytambo and catch the train there. This meant a 4.00 am start to the final day ! Oh well, some things were never meant to be easy.Les mer
The Going Gets Tough
20. mai 2018, Peru ⋅ ⛅ 21 °C
We began the day early, with a 5.00 am wake up from the staff. I was already awake and keen to get out of the sleeping bag and into some proper gear. Our guide Jeiko, had already warned us that this was to be a tough day of walking with at least 10 hours ahead of us. Not exactly a pleasant proposition.
After breakfast we donned our sun screen (yes it was yet another sunny day), picked up our walking poles and headed off. We were soon climbing steadily and puffing even more steadily in the thin air and ever increasing heat. After a short time we were joined by a colourfully dressed local Quechuan holy man, who was to accompany us for the next couple of hours.
He led us through a never ending series of navigational challenges and scrambles over rocks and through brambles and prickles. It certainly was not what I would call a "trail". When we finally started to descend we though the worst was behind us. It wasn't. We then started to climb ever more steeply up to the hilltop ruins of Pumamarca. It was here that the Quechuan performed a ritual offering to the Sun and mother earth. No matter what your spiritual beliefs, it really was interesting and actually quite touching.
An hour or so later we were back on the go again. By this time the sun was burning and, even though we were again heading downhill, the going was never easy. We started to look at our watches and wonder how we would ever cover the distance we still had ahead of us before darkness set in. As it turned out, we didn't.
By early afternoon we stumbled into Ollantaytambo, right into the middle of their huge festival. The dusty streets were jammed with a succession of brightly dressed dancing groups. We followed them into the central plaza and watched as they each performed their carefully choreographed dances before the judges. South America is NEVER boring.
We then resumed our trek out the other side of the town. A look at the time showed that there was no way we would be able to complete the route that was originally planned. We searched for that ever popular "Plan B". Fortunately there was one and, with a few deletions, we were able to reduce the remaining distance by about 50% and also cut out another huge climb. It was a very popular decision as by that time we were all exhausted.
We made steady progress through the afternoon and managed to reach camp number 2 just before dark. It was situated alongside a large, but somewhat dilapidated home. Fortunately at this lower elevation, the temperature was noticeably warmer than the previous night. After a delicious evening meal, we repeated the antics of getting into our sleeping bags.
Unfortunately there were no repeats of the previous night's celestial performance.Les mer
The Track to Machu Picchu
19. mai 2018, Peru ⋅ ⛅ 21 °C
We all knew that this was going to be a long day - and it was. It began with an early breakfast and a complete repacking of our trekking gear into a lightweight duffel bag. But before we could begin the trek, we still had some awesome cycling to do.
Our cycling guides took us back up the sacred valley along a potholed dirt track, until we were back high in the mountains. Unlike the previous day's ride down the Abra Malaga Pass, this one was going to be a real test of our ability to handle mountain bikes on a rough descent at relatively high speed. Several of our riders decided that discretion would be the better part of valour and decided to stay in the vehicle instead. The rest of us donned knee protectors, elbow protectors, helmets, etc and prepared for an exciting and challenging downhill thrill ride. We weren't disappointed.
We were soon descending rapidly, while at the same time concentrating on letting the bikes do the lion's share of the work. It was hardly ever necessary to pedal, but it required constant concentration to keep the bike under control. At each switchback corner the surface of the road was covered with a treacherous layer of fine dust, sometimes several cm thick.
In spite of the dangers we all managed to stay upright and reach Ollantaytambo safely. We then sadly packed the cycle gear for the final time and bade farewell to the tremendous cycling support staff. Because Diego, Jimmy and the rest of the crew really had done a fantastic job in looking after us.
After a flying visit back to the Tikawasi Hotel to change into our trekking gear, it was time to return to the bus for another drive far back up the Urubamba River to begin our trek. The destination for the first section of the trek was the hamlet of Marcacocha at 3400m above sea level.
Although the elevation was high, the temperature certainly was not. Once the sun disappeared behind the mountains, the temperature plummeted to around zero. Everyone started looking for extra clothes to pile on to avoid freezing solid.
As the night descended a number of us stood outside to gaze at the incredible night sky and some unfamiliar constellations. While we were standing staring at the heavens we all witnessed the most incredible astronomical sight that I had ever seen. Right where we were all looking a huge fireball appeared and proceeded to carve a line across the sky, parallel to the ground. Trailing behind the fireball was a tail of glowing debris. We stood in amazement and I held my breath, waiting for the explosion as it hit the ground. In a lifetime of watching the stars, I had never seen such a dramatic and prolonged example of a large meteor. Fortunately there was no explosion and it died before hitting the ground. Nevertheless, it is something that none of us will ever forget.
After the fireball we made the first difficult foray into our sleeping bags. I know that the older I get the harder this process becomes. After a painful series of contortions and spasms I manged to partially insert my body into the confines of the bag, although my top half would have to take its own chances with the icy conditions. I then set about trying to manufacture some sort of pillow out of cast off clothes and other oddments.
If getting into a sleeping bag is hard, then getting up in the middle of the night for a "nature break" is at least two orders of magnitude even more difficult. First you have to fumble about in the dark for the torch that should be there somewhere. Then you have to don enough clothes to ensure some degree of decency and protection from the frigid conditions. Finally come the shoes and the fight with the tent zipper to make an escape into the outside world.
You then stumble across the campsite under the stars, do the deed and then repeat the whole process in reverse. It's certainly not easy.Les mer
Cycling the Abra Malaga Pass
18. mai 2018, Peru ⋅ 🌙 9 °C
The country of Peru is roughly cut down the middle by the mighty Andes mountain range. To the east is the hot and wet jungles of the Amazon region and to the west are the dry highlands that formed the major part of the Incan Empire. The Abra Malaga Pass at 4500 m is one of the major connecting points between these two disparate regions.
Our major task for today was to cycle the Abra Malaga Pass. I guess if I was 20 years younger, 20 kg lighter and 20 IQ points more stupid, I could have tried to peddle up this mighty mountain, however our plan was to do the reverse. It is still something of a mental and physical challenge.
After spending the first hour of the day climbing the amazing stone terraces above Ollantaytambo, we then boarded the bus for the 2 hour drive to the pass. Although the weather in Ollantaytambo was already quite warm, at the pass itself it was absolutely freezing. We all donned thermals, jackets, vests, scarves and anything else we could find.
There is no much at the pass apart from an interesting little church. There was also the twisted ruins of a vehicle which had presumably missed one of the many precipitous switchbacks on the road. Since this is such a strategic connecting point between Cusco and the Amazon there were also a steady stream of buses and trucks making their way over the pass.
After a photo at the summit we were off. Many hearts were in a state of panic at the thought of the vertiginous descent that lay ahead, but to my delight, every one in the team decided to go ahead. Soon we were snaking our way down the road, taking care to make sure the speed was kept under control.
I had not gone far before I realised that all was not well with my bike. Each time the front wheel rotated, the handlebars bumped alarmingly. This was the tyre that had been repaired the previous day and obviously it had not been replaced correctly.At first I thought I should just grin and bare it, however I worried about the safety if the tyre came off the rim. I called ahead for the team to stop. The guides tinkered with the bike for some time but could not fix the problem. That meant I had to complete the rest of the 38 km descent with a front wheel that was vibrating alarmingly. Oh well, it certainly added to the excitement.
I won't try to describe the scenery, other than to say it was absolutely spectacular. Some things can never be described, they just have to be experienced. I can assure you that everyone made it safely to the bottom of the mountain at Ollantaytambo and the exhilaration that we all felt was amazing.
Tomorrow we begin the 4 day trek along the Inca Trail to Machu Picchu, meaning that we will be out of all contact until we get back to Cusco in 5 day's time.Les mer
The Ghostriders Conquer the Urubamba
17. mai 2018, Peru ⋅ ⛅ 11 °C
The Urubamba River is the river that made the sacred valley of the Incas. Over millions of years it has carved this amazing valley which has become one of the cradles of civilisation. It not only flows past the famous site of Machu Picchu, but it later joins the mighty Amazon and eventually empties into the Atlantic Ocean. Today's ride plan was simple - to follow the river along a rough side track for about 3 hours. It sounded quite easy. Actually it wasn't.
The hardships for two of our group actually began the previous evening. After dinner Steve and Gil decided that they needed to augment their dwindling cash and visited one of the only two ATMs in Ollantaytambo. They inserted their card and waited. And waited. Nothing happened and the machine decided that they had no right to get their card back. Considering their misfortunes of the previous day, one could be forgiven for thinking that these poor folk were destined to have bad luck throughout the trip.
Apparently they then spent more time on the Internet cancelling the card and making other arrangements to survive for the next few weeks. It was certainly an inauspicious start to their trip. However more trails were to lie ahead for our group.
We began the day by driving upstream along the Urubamba River for about 60 km from Ollantaytambo. The plan was then to ride along a rough track along the far side of the river, downstream for several hours. It sounded simple.
We began in glorious conditions under another clear sky and were soon bouncing along over rocks and huge culverts in the path. The bikes did a sensational job in coping with these conditions. It is little wonder that they cost an eye watering $2800 USD each. They certainly are very well adapted for this type of riding, although it was a pity that my body was not equally as well adapted as the bike I was riding.
I had not ridden very far before I started to feel like my nether regions were being scraped with sand paper. This is every riders worst nightmare. I wriggled in the seat. I lifted my backside off the seat. I moved forward and backward. Still sore. I was not looking forward to another 3 or more hours of this posterior torture, but there was nothing I could do but grin and bear it. Why oh why hadn't I used some of that magic cream that was hiding somewhere in my suitcase ? Good question.
The path itself undulated up and down and the rough surface certainly challenged most of our riders who were not experienced mountain bikers. David suffered the first puncture of the ride when a tack lodged in his rear tyre. A short time later it was my turn when my front tyre went down. I ended up swapping bikes with Jimmy (one of our cycling guides). This was most kind of him. The only problem is that Jimmy is about a foot shorter than me and his bike was about the size of a midget BMX. I was therefore quite relieved when we reached the lunch spot at a rather late 2 pm and was told that the riding was over for the day.
We then transferred to a restaurant for lunch. A pan pipe player was playing El Condor Pasa. Actually someone has been playing this same song almost everywhere we have been since we arrived in Cusco 4 days ago. I think we will hear it a lot more before this trip is over.
We finally arrived back in Ollantaytambo about 4 pm . After showering and changing we were able to spend some time exploring this fascinating and very much frontier town. Then it was time for a coffee and snack. We found a lovely cafe that had been started by a young American girl who had been working for an NGO organisation before settling in Ollantaytambo. She loved the place and decided to start a business here. I really admire such people who have the courage and imagination to live a remarkable life. I hope her business succeeds. She deserves it.
It was also soon after arriving back in Ollantaytambo that a remarkable coincidence took place. I knew that Liz and Priscilla Kwok were travelling in South America on another World Expeditions trip at about the same time as us, but we were not prepared to see them actually book into our hotel ! What were the chances of what ? We felt a little like that famous meeting between Stanley and Livingstone as we welcomed and embraced out two Australian friends who were so far away from home.Les mer
The Day of Reckoning
17. mai 2018, Peru ⋅ ⛅ 4 °C
Today has been our most challenging day so far. It started with the wake up alarm at 5.00 am, followed by breakfast at 6.00, then packing the bags and preparing for a long day on the bikes.This time we headed north out of Cusco, in the direction of Ollantaytambo (the stepping off point for any trip to Machu Picchu).
After an preliminary visit to a alpaca textile factory we met up with the cycling support team. Although there are only 13 of us, there are almost as many support staff. As well as Jaeko, who is our main guide, we also have Diego and Jimmy as our two cycling guides. Then we have three drivers for the vehicles, a cook and assistant for the meals. There is also another guy who has been following us with a drone to make a movie, although we hated the drone and discussed various ways to knock it out of the sky. I think he got the message and there has been no sign of him today.
Straight after getting on the bikes we were out in the rural highlands, surrounded by towering, rugged and often snow capped peaks. The skies have continued to be clear and the weather mild. Today we had an early cool breeze to make the cycling conditions absolutely perfect. Now that we had gained some experience on these bikes, we felt ready to tackle some of the much more technical riding we had today.
After three days at this altitude we found ourselves still struggling for air as our ride took us up to near 3900 metres, but it is amazing how the human body adapts and our recovery periods are getting progressively shorter and shorter. There is absolutely no way that we could have even attempted this a couple of days earlier.
We stopped for a late lunch by the circular terraces at Moray. This place was built by the Incas to grow and experiment with different types of crops. It consists of an enormous natural depression in the ground which has been developed into a descending succession of circular terraces. Each progressively lower terrace has a warmer climate and can be used for a different crop. The construction is a staggering example of the technical brilliance of the Incas.
After lunch we had our first taste of exciting downhill riding as we descended 100's of metres down to the sacred valley. Our final stop was the breathtaking ancient salt mines of Marais.
We finally rolled into Ollantaytambo well after dark,exhausted but all very happy that we had experienced one of the best cycling days in our lives.Les mer
Two Lost Sheep are Finally Found
15. mai 2018, Peru ⋅ ⛅ 12 °C
After a couple of days of acclimatisation to the high altitude, it was time for the hour of reckoning. Today was the time for us to get our first taste of cycling the Sacred Valley of the Incas. After a short bus ride to the outskirts of the city we were introduced to our bikes for the first time. To our great relief they were high end Specialised brand bikes with dual suspension and hydraulic brakes.
As it was the first time that most of us had ever ridden a dual suspension bike, they did take a little getting used to, but soon we were looking for potholes in which to test how good they were.
We didn't have long to wait because most of the day's ride was along very rough back roads, liberally covered with rocks and culverts. The enormous tyres and the suspension certainly worked well, although most of our lungs did not work so well. Every time we encountered a hill our hearts and lungs went into overdrive, gasping for every molecule of oxygen we could catch.
For the third day in a row we were favoured with blue skies and a very warm sun. The warm clothing we had packed was quickly discarded and the sunscreen was applied thickly. At this altitude it is very easy to become very badly sunburnt in a short space of time.
We bounced and puffed our way along a succession of rough dirt roads and through some small settlements. In these places our progress was closely monitored by numerous stray dogs that barked menacingly each time we approached them. We had previously been warned that, in the event of a dog attack, we were to stop and take refuge behind our bike. Fortunately this strategy was never put to the test.
After a couple of hours of cycling we stopped for lunch beside a beautiful lake in the sacred valley and then were driven to the top of a nearby hill to wander some extensive pre Incan ruins.
We knew that the final two members of our team were due to arrive in Cusco today. Steve and Gil Wilson had to attend a family wedding in the UK and were taking the long and circuitous route from Manchester to Cusco to join us for the rest of our time in South America. Each time a plane flew overhead we imagined that it could be them on board.
It was only when we arrived back at our hotel we heard just what a trying time they had experienced. Not only had they been in continuous transit for over thirty hours, visiting Manchester, Helsinki, New York and Lima along the way, but their final flight from Lima to Cusco had been altered. This meant that they did not know that someone would be waiting for them on arrival in Cusco. They proceeded through the airport and caught a taxi instead.
That would have been OK, except for the fact that our hotel had also been changed and, when they arrived at the original hotel, they found it locked and bolted. This was not the welcome they had been looking forward to after such an horrendous time in the air. After a series of phone calls they eventually arrived at the correct hotel some four hours later. Although this was not the start they had been wanting, they took it in surprisingly good spirits and are looking forward to begin their own personal acclimatisation process.
Tomorrow we head to Olantaytambo where the more serious riding will begin.
In case you might have been wondering what had happened after my unfortunate incident with the exploding blue pen in my hotel room, I can now complete the story. After an unsuccessful personal attempt to remove the ink, I gave up, carefully folded the sheet on top of my bed and wrote a letter of apology to the cleaning staff. To add some extra gravitas to my apology I added a crying face at the bottom to emphasise that I was truly sorry for my sins. I expected to return to my room and be welcomed with a stern letter of rebuke and a hefty invoice. I found neither of these. My room and bed was made up and my stained sheet replaced with a pristine new white one. I have learnt my lesson.Les mer
In Which we Meet a Sexy Woman
14. mai 2018, Peru ⋅ ⛅ 9 °C
Cusco was not only the capital of the entire Incan Empire, but the street layout of the city is based on the outline of the Puma- one of the sacred animals of the Incas. Even today you can clearly see the outline in the street pattern. On this outline the main plaza (The Plaza de Armas) constitutes the stomach of the Puma and the huge Incan fort of Sacsayhuaman constitutes the head.
This fort was once a huge fortified stronghold to defend the city, but when the Spaniards came they destroyed the city of Cusco and the impressive fort. Today only about 20% of the original structure remains, the rest was carried away to rebuild the city and to construct the 13 large churches and cathedrals that dominate the city centre. Even so, the remains of Sacsayhuaman (pronounced "sexy woman") are still breathtaking.
Our plan for our first full day in Cusco was to continue our process of acclimatisation by exploring some more of the city and the numerous ruins that still remain. Our first stop was at the 9 m high statue of Christ that is perched high on one of the nearby hills. With arms outstretched this statue is a little like the much larger and more famous one that dominates Rio de Janeiro in Brazil.
We then spent the next few hours exploring Sacsayhuaman. In order to enter the fort we had to make our way through a dark and very claustrophobic tunnel through the rock. This would have been easy for the diminutive Incans, but quite hazardous for much taller westerners. The new bumps on my head will be reminder of this experience.
It was then a downhill drive back to Cusco for lunch, followed by a tour of the oldest colonial cathedral. This was built on the site of the Incan palace, out of materials plundered from the destroyed fort and temples. It is now filled with literally tonnes of gold and silver, ornate carvings and numerous images of Mary, especially remodelled to appear like the Incan Mother Goddess of the Earth.
By late afternoon I was getting very tired and returned to my hotel and set about destroying my room. Well not exactly the whole room, in fact just the top sheet on my bed. In all fariness it was not my fault. After all, how was I to know that the pen I was about to open was still pressurised to sea level ? When I popped the cap off the pen, blue ink sprayed forth all over the brilliant white sheet. All I could do was look on in horror and try to think of what to do next. After the surprise wore off, I decided that there was nothing I could do, except leave it there for all to see. Oh well, worse things can happen.
Later in the day we met the rest of our cycling guides - Jimmy and Diego. Tomorrow morning we will be getting on the bikes and then we will find out just how much the altitude has reduced us to cycling ruins.
The weather has continued to be fine and clear. During the day the sun shines with a vengeance and at night the temperatures drop quickly under a clear starry sky. As we walked the plaza after dark we were mesmerised by the beauty of the lights on all the surrounding mountains. It looked like some sort of beautiful Christmas light display. It is only a pity that pictures can never do such moments justice - you simply have to be there.Les mer
ReisendeHi Dennis, it’s so wonderful reading your travel tales. Thank you for the time you’ve put into recording your trips, so that we can enjoy them with you. I feel excited for you all. We had a great ride to Croydon on Monday 14th May with Gordon leading our group and David as the rear guard. There’s nothing better than to spend a day on a bike, riding along lovely bush tracks with friends. It’s great for the soul! .. Marj
In the Footsteps of the Incas
13. mai 2018, Peru ⋅ ⛅ 17 °C
The flight from Lima to Cusco takes about 75 mins by plane, however we have been told that the same journey takes 24 hours by road. As I gazed from my plane window down at the rugged terrain below, it was very easy to see why this would be the case.
For the traveller the main challenge of taking this short flight is the extreme gain in altitude in such a short time. While Lima is obviously at sea level, Cusco sits at an oxygen starved altitude of 3500 metres. The flight is spectacular and the landing at the small airport is enough to keep the knuckles white. Fortunately we landed safely although the sudden impact with the runway would have only scored a 3/10 on the pilot's skill scale.
We were met at the baggage carousel by a diminutive Peruvian who introduced himself as "Abel Puma" and then ushered us to the waiting bus. "Do not exert yourselves today", he advised. We didn't need any encouragement to move slowly as our heads were already spinning and our lungs gasping as we made our way along.
Our hotel is situated right in the centre of town, right next to the Plaza Major and the ancient cathedral. All around are reminders that Cusco was the magnificent capital of the entire Incan Empire. This empire flourished and spread for around 500 years, before it was almost wiped out by the Spanish in the 1500s. This city will also become our base of operations for the next few days. Our first task ? To acclimatise to the thin air.
After our arrival at the hotel we decided to walk (stagger) to the nearby Plaza to search for somewhere to have lunch. We found a balcony cafe with a panoramic view of the plaza and the surrounding mountains and settled down for our first high altitude meal. For one of our group, the pressures of the past two days has already proven to be too much, so he decided to stay flat on his back in the hotel instead.
Cusco reminds me of a frontier town, lacking the polish and sophistication of a modern city, but absolutely steeped in history and folklore. The legacy of the Incas is all around with many of the current buildings actually built on the solid foundations crafted by the Incas over 500 years previously. It is also favoured by the neo hippy types that wander the streets in search of hash. I had not walked far before I was asked several times if I wanted to "buy some weed".
My wanderings were cut short as I only lasted a couple of hours later before exhaustion overcame me as well and I headed back for a rest.
After an evening briefing by our cycling guide we walked a short distance to a nearby restaurant for dinner. Without our presence the place would have had a quiet night as we were the only ones there. As I ate my meal I gazed at the huge mural that covered the wall of the restaurant. It depicted Mother Earth supplying the needs of the people and was liberally highlighted with shining gold sections. I suggested that David could paint a similar mural on his living room wall when he gets home, but he looked back at me with glazed eyes. I think he needs sleep.
On the walk back to the hotel I heard the unmistakable sounds of a talented busker singing a succession of Bob Marley songs. I had jokingly asked earlier in the day when we were going to hear Bob Marley and here he was. This music was a feature of all our early Ghostrider overseas rides and I took this as a favourable omen for the success of this trip. I could hear the music long after I returned to my room.
Compared to the smog and humidity of Lima, the weather in Cusco is clear and dry at this time of the year. I think the pattern will be warm days and chilly nights under the Andean skies.Les mer
In Which we Take Lima by Storm
12. mai 2018, Peru ⋅ ⛅ 17 °C
It never ceases to amaze me what a difference a few hours can make and today was a perfect example of this. Last night we staggered into our hotel at 2 am in the morning, all feeling like we were surely close to death's proverbial door. After getting a few unsettled hours of sleep and enjoying a quite good breakfast, all our team members were soon looking more like their old selves.
A group of us then set out to explore the area between our hotel and the seafront. I had been in this region back in 2010 but I was surprised to find just how much the place had changed in that time. Although Lima is situated right on the Pacific Ocean, the city is separated from the ocean by an almost vertical 150 m high cliff face. At the top of this cliff you get the most incredible views down the waterfront and the huge expanse of ocean lying just beyond.
Developers have now made maximum use of this prime position by building a very impressive array of modern shops and cafes, all sharing the same breathtaking view. Yesterday we had hardly eaten all day, so we decided it was time to have some lunch. For a cost of around $15AUD I enjoyed a large plate of chicken and Ceasar salad. It certainly was welcome. The milkshake went down well too.
In the afternoon I had organised for a private tour of some of the highlights of the city and its museums. I usually have an aversion to taking any sort of organised tour, but in this case I made an exception. For one reason we had the guide and the bus to ourselves and for another reason, we only have a single day to get the most out of experience here.
Over the next 6 hours we were treated to a most enjoyable array of visual and intellectual delights. I learnt that the population of Lima has now risen to 11 million, making it the third most populous city in South America. It was also staggering to view the beautiful works of art and sculpture made by the various groups that have occupied this spot over the past 5000 years. This region truly is one of the cradles of civilisation.
After getting back to our hotel at 8 pm we walked to the centre of Miraflores and found a nice place for dinner. Some wandering pan pipe players decided to serenade us while we ate and, during the walk back to the hotel, we stopped to watch a large group of all ages, all enjoying some tango dancing in the park. South America is certainly like that.
Tomorrow we head to Cusco and the thin air of the Andes.Les mer
Arrived in Lima, Peru
12. mai 2018, Peru ⋅ ☁️ 17 °C
After an interminable time in transit, the first 11 members of the Ghostriders' 2018 South America Adventure have finally all safely reached Lima. The extraordinary journey began with a horror drive to Tullamarine through pouring rain and gridlocked Melbourne traffic. Then our flight was delayed before finally taking off at 9 pm. Thirteen and a half hours jammed into an economy seat on a packed flight would have been bearable if it had not been for some wild turbulence in the first few hours of the flight, but at least we reached Santiago (Chile) without our luggage going to London by mistake. Then followed some more time in transit before catching the final flight (also delayed) to Lima. At least this leg was only three and half hours and the flight crew were a little more attentive that on the first flight.
We finally staggered out of the airport into the warm and humid air of Lima about 2 am local time. We had had multiple time changes and around 30 hours of transit. To say we were ready for bed would have been have been like comparing the bubonic plague with a dose of the sniffles, but first we had to take a seat on a bus for the trip through the city to our hotel. Even at this time on a Sunday morning, the streets were thronged with jostling cars.
It was certainly a blessed relief to eventually collapse through the door of my room and turn the light out. At least my room at the Casa Andina Miraflores was immaculately clean and the bed was heavenly.
Tomorrow our adventure really begins.Les mer
Bags (almost) Packed
7. mai 2018, Australia ⋅ ☀️ 18 °C
I must admit that I don't really like packing, however I like to think that I am relatively well organised when it comes down to the final few days. I have had a list prepared for the past couple of weeks, on which I have detailed all the myriad small (and large) items that must be taken on any trip that involves a wide variety of activities.
Armed with my exhaustive list I set aside a part of the house for me to start piling all these bits and pieces together. The next stage is sorting and packing items into smaller packages - one package for cycling gear, one for underwear, one for toiletries and so on. Then comes the time of reckoning when all the small packages are packed into the luggage. Although at first it never looks like everything will fit, it is amazing just how much you can cram into a case. The final step is to weigh the finished result to see if anything needs to be removed. Then fill in the luggage labels, attach a lock or two and the job is done.
With only 4 days to go till departure it is really starting to feel that our long awaited adventure is about to start. My passport is ready to go and so am I. By this time next week our team will be assembled in Cusco. In fact four members have already set off. Andrew and Valmai have spent the past few weeks in South America and will meet us in Santiago, Chile. Steve and Gil have taken the much longer route and will be attending a family wedding in the UK before jumping straight on a plane to meet us in Cusco.
I checked the weather forecast for Friday and it is looking like an Antarctic blast is about to hit Melbourne. That means it could be an interesting flight, The next footprint will probably be in Lima.Les mer
The Final Few Days Before Departure
28. april 2018, Australia ⋅ ☀️ 16 °C
For centuries the jungle slowly engulfed the Inca town of Machu Picchu. This city had been abandoned by the Incas over 500 years earlier, during the time of the Spanish invasion of South America. It's location was unknown outside the local area until the American archeologist and adventurer Hiram Bingam was led to it in 1911. He then set about removing the vegetation as quickly as possible, doing much damage to the ruins in the process.
I remember first reading about the "fabled lost city of the Incas" when I was still in primary school. The story seemed like a fairy tale to me. I never dreamed that over 55 years later I would have the chance to walk in the footsteps of the Incas and explore the city for myself. But I have now learned that life can take you to some incredible places if you only have the courage to take the first step.
In a few days I will leaving for South America. Over a period of five weeks we will be trekking the Inca Trail to Machu Picchu, cycling the high Andes in Peru, sailing Lake Titicaca, watching the giant condors in Colca Canyon, exploring the amazing Iguassu Falls, enjoying a tango in Buenos Aires, sailing the Rio de la Plata, spending a night in the oldest European city in South America, riding in one of the world's highest trains and much, much more. I want to share some of these adventures with you along the way.Les mer
An Indian Summer in Paris
14. oktober 2017, Frankrike ⋅ ☁️ 13 °C
An Indian Summer in Paris - Oct 13th
It might have been the evening of Friday 13th, but the only unlucky thing I could think of was the fact that we would soon be leaving this city that we both love so much. On the other hand, after 8 weeks of travelling, we were really starting to look forward to being back in our own home again. Living out of a suitcase does wear a little thin after a while.
For our final couple of days in Paris the weather had made a dramatic turn for the better. The cloudy skies and drizzle had been replaced with unbroken blue from horizon to horizon and the temperatures had risen to a rather balmy mid 20s. Although the autumn trees were now well into their annual change of colour and dropping of leaves, in every respect it felt like summer had returned in all its glory.
After doing our final packing (ie cramming everything in and hoping that the blessed zipper would close) we looked out the window and decided that it was just too nice an evening to spend inside. Although we had declared that we could not walk another step, Paris just begs to be experienced, especially on a balmy Friday night.
We began our final walk with a coffee and muffin and then wandered down the Boulevard St Michel to the Seine. We had fantastic memories of the Isle St Louis from Maggie's extended stay there in an apartment in 2013. Everywhere there were crowds of locals. Many were enjoying a drink in one of the hundreds of roadside cafes, lovers were walking hand in hand along the riverbank, many others seemed quite content to just sit and watch what everyone else was doing.
After walking past the floodlit Notre Dame Cathedral we crossed the small pedestrian bridge to the Isle St Louis. We made our way back to the apartment on the Rue Bude where Maggie had spent her first time in Europe. At that moment neither of us wanted to think about leaving and the long flights that awaited us the following morning.
The brightly lit river boats were busy carrying their crowds of tourists up and down the river and in the distance we could hear the faint sound of guitar music playing. When we walked closer we found that it was a young Australian busker who was entrancing the crowds with his unusual and highly talented playing techniques.
We stopped to listen for a while and noticed a rather eccentric guy on the most amazing bicycle I had ever seen. It was covered all over in a collection of coloured lights, statues, flowers and ....fountains. Yes, I am not kidding, the bike had multiple water fountains fitted front and rear, each one illuminated by LED lights. The owner of the illuminated bike was almost as interesting as his bike. With long tangled hair, a scraggy beard and what looked like a Mongolian coat, he fitted into the Parisian crowds perfectly.
When the Australian had finished the next song I dropped a few coins into his guitar case and whispered "Go Aussies". "Thanks Brother", he replied and we walked on our way feeling absolutely elated. It was a magic finish to an amazing trip.Les mer
Eights Weeks Without a Selfie
13. oktober 2017, Frankrike ⋅ ⛅ 22 °C
Eight Weeks Without a Single Selfie - Oct 13th 2017
On our final full day in Paris the sun broke through in full force to give the city a temporary return to summer. Gone were the winter hats, scarfs and coats that had been everywhere for the past couple of weeks and back out came the short skirts and sun hats. It was a perfect way to end our stay in this amazing place.
Maggie and I took the opportunity to continue our recreation of the walk of Adele and Simon. We had begun this the previous day but exhaustion had overcome us before the task was complete.
We set off to resume our walk at the famous Notre Dame Cathedral, however we did make one important detour on the way there. The Musee Nationale Du Moyen Age (Museum of the Middle Ages) is situated on the Rue D'Ecoles (Street of Schools), just a block away from our hotel. We had walked past it many time over the past couple of days and thought that it deserved a proper visit.
We decided to pay the 9 Euro entry fee (no seniors concession here) and see what was inside. We certainly were not disappointed. The collection included an amazing array of artefacts and art works from the 6th to the 16th centuries. The building itself was worth the visit. It certainly was a fascinating insight into the creativity and skills of the people who lived in that period.
Our walk then continued past Notre Dame and along the I'sle De La Cite to the Louvre. Although tourists had been conspicuously absent from most of Paris at this time of the year, we discovered just where most of them seemed to have congregated. I had forgotten what a thousand simultaneous selfies actually sounded like, but this is exactly what was happening. Wherever we looked there were people posing in front of every possible vantage point. Stand on one leg, look to one side, hold the selfie stick high, smile, click. It made me nauseous.
I still cannot understand the selfie mentality at all. It always strikes me as a type of "technological tagging". It is obviously not sufficient to just visit some place, but you must prove you have been there by standing right in front of it, taking a selfie and then immediately share it to something like facebook or twitter. Surely if you know you have been there, why do you feel a need to prove it to the rest of the world ? I just do not get it. I am proud to say that we have now been travelling for 8 weeks and still have not taken a single selfie. Not one. Nor do I ever intend to. My own memories are what are most important to me.
By the middle of the afternoon, the sun was actually quite hot and we took refuge by the fountain in The Tuileries. The council provides hundreds of free green chairs to relax on and we were glad to take two of these and spend some time dozing in the dappled sunshine.
We are now back at the hotel, our bags are packed and we are almost ready to bid a final au revoir to France. But we will definitely be back in 2019.Les mer
The World on Two Wheels
Early eyeglasses from the 16th century. The mark on the page was where the book had been closed with the glasses inside.
In the Footsteps of Simon and Adele
12. oktober 2017, Frankrike ⋅ ⛅ 15 °C
In 2006 Barbara McClintock wrote a delightful children's book called "Simon and Adele". It tells the simple story of two Parisian children on their way home from school. Although Simon had been warned to take care of his things, somehow he manages to progressively lose everything he had been carrying. Each object is lost in a distinct part of central Paris.
Since we both love the book, Maggie had the idea of recreating the walk taken by Simon and Adele. The only trouble is that the book is set in the Paris of 1907 and the Paris of today has changed quite a bit. Nevertheless it seemed like a good way to pass a lovely autumn day and so we set off with map and notes in hand.
Our first stop was the Jardin de Plantes (Garden of Plants). This is a huge park which is devoted to the Sciences of Botany, Geology and Palaeontology. It is also home to the Menagerie (Zoo) of Paris. The warm sunshine combined with the huge distances we had walked yesterday to ensure that our energy levels started to wane rather rapidly.
I don't know how Simon and Adele walked such a long distance home each day, but by the time we had made our way back to the Luxembourg Gardens, we had realised that there was no way we were going to complete the entire walk in one day. We did however have fun placing a couple of little cutout figures of Simon and Adele in various locations and then photographing them for our grandkids.
While we were walking around the streets it was interesting to note all the diverse means of transport that were being used. Many locals like to move around the city on small scooters. Many of these scooters are now battery powered and can zoom along the footpaths quite fast. We also noticed several using the much more high tech approach by riding along on an air wheel. These are a sort of single wheeled version of a Segway. We even were passed by a girl riding a unicycle along the busy footpath. In Paris no one seems to raise an eyelid, no matter how unusual the means of transport is.
At the end of the afternoon we purchased some Apple Cider, a baguette and a large serving of tartiflette (a French dish containing potato, cheese, bacon and onion) from an outdoor market and had a picnic dinner in our hotel room. It was a lovely way to complete our second last day in Paris. After dark we went for yet another walk and stopped to listen to a saxophone player playing jazz in a small cafe. Hundreds of people were still out strolling the streets, taking full advantage of the warm evening. Paris is just like that.Les mer
The House of Victor Hugo
11. oktober 2017, Frankrike ⋅ ☁️ 16 °C
The last time Maggie and I were in Paris five weeks ago I literally walked the soles off my shoes. We had decided to forego the Metro and do all our travels on foot instead. Not only is that better for your health, but it is also the best way to begin to come to grips with the tangle of streets that can be so confusing for the first time visitor.
I had to battle with those shoes for most of the cycling sections, with the soles progressively parting company a little bit more with every passing day. It was not until I discovered a Mountain Warehouse store in St Peter Port that I was able to find a decent pair of walking shoes in my own size. At the time I bought them I thought that they could be useful for my upcoming walks along the Inca Trail and The Spanish Camino next year
The problem with the new shoes is that they are just too comfortable, so much so that I have worn them every day since. Since today was our first full day since arriving back in Paris, I thought it would be a great chance to see how my feet felt after a full day of walking.
We began by walking up the hill to the nearby Pantheon. This huge distinctive building was originally constructed as a church in 1755, but has been converted to a mausoleum to house the remains of distinguished French citizens. Among those who are buried here are Victor Hugo and Alexandre Dumas.
We then headed north across the Seine and along the right bank to the Place Des Vogues. This place is one of the most sought after addresses in Paris and contains a large number of opulent apartments that all face inwards into a central garden. One of these apartments was the residence of Victor Hugo from 1832 to 1848. It is now maintained as a museum and is one of the few museums in Paris where the entry is free. It was certainly worth every cent that we didn't pay.
By age 30 Victor Hugo was already a famous (and quite wealthy) poet, writer and artist. His apartment gives a fascinating insight into Hugo's incredible intellect and creativity. We spent over an hour here exploring the exhibits. I was particularly interested to see that he did much of his writing standing up at an elevated desk. In this he was obviously over a hundred years ahead of the latest research.
After our time in Victor's house we purchased some beautiful fresh strawberries and raspberries and feasted on them on the banks of the Seine. The next couple of hours were spent exploring unfamiliar backstreets and the myriad of unusual shops that a feature of the left bank. We have both been consciously working hard to improve our French vocabulary. I have found that a good way to do this is to wander through the many book shops and translate the title of each book. It certainly keeps the mind busy.
In 1848 Hugo was forced into exile due to his republican ideals. He ended up in St Peter Port, Guernsey in the Channel Islands and purchased the impressive building that he renamed as Hauteville House. This is where he stayed until the end of his exile in 1870. Hauteville House was actually right next door to our hotel in Guernsey and we passed by it every day we were there.
Later in the day we worked our way back along the left bank in the upstream direction. Some might be dismayed to hear that we dined at the famous French restaurant "Le McDonalds", before finally walking (staggering) back to our hotel. I am pleased to state that, after walking many kilometres around Paris, the soles are still firmly attached to my new shoes and that they are now well and truly worn in. And me ? I am worn out.Les mer
Paris, Nous t' Aimerons Pour Toujours
11. oktober 2017, Frankrike ⋅ ☁️ 14 °C
Someone once coined the famous saying that "all good things must come to an end". While I do not agree with the saying itself, it is nevertheless true that our 2017 European Adventures are now rapidly drawing to a close. Within 4 days we will begin the long journey back to our parallel universe in Australia.
Although the trip is coming to an end, the memories will last for a lifetime. I recently read the results of a research investigation into the sorts of things that bring lasting happiness. The results were very interesting. They showed that, while the "happiness" that comes from the acquisition of material things (fancy houses, cars, clothes and money) is very fleeting, the happiness that comes from travel lasts for many years. Even more surprising is the finding that the pleasure from travel actually increases, rather than decreases, with the passage of time. Over the past years I have certainly found this to be the case.
Yesterday we sadly bade a final farewell to Auray and caught the SNCF train to Paris Montparnasse. The train was "slow" until it reached Rennes (only between 150 - 180 kph), but then we joined the brand new Grand Vitesse (High Speed) line to Paris. For the next hour the train seldom dropped below 290 kph and was express all the way from Rennes to Paris. The total distance from Rennes to Paris was covered in less than an hour. Why oh why can't we build trains like that in Australia ?
After leaving Montparnasse Station we caught a taxi to take us to our hotel in the region of the Sorbonne and the Pantheon. The driver started chatting in very good English and told us that he had lived in Paris for the past 29 years, but would soon be going home to Portugal to work in his brother's restaurant in Porto. He was obviously very excited to be going home and more excited when I told him that I would be bringing a team of bike riders to ride in his country next year.
When I made the booking at The Hotel St Jacques I had requested that we have a "quiet, non smoking room with a nice outlook". They must have taken this request quite literally. When we arrived at the hotel we were informed that our room was on the 6th floor. We would have to take the tiny elevator to the 5th floor and then navigate a narrow, spiral staircase into the roof space. It only took a few return trips in the lift to get us and our luggage to advanced base camp on the 5th floor and then I set about manhandling our bags up the staircase. About halfway up I almost dislocated my shoulder when I bashed it straight into the sloping roof.
By the time we reached le chambre trente, it made for an interesting discovery. Although the room was small (although larger than many other rooms we have stayed in in Paris) it did have a panoramic view over the surroundings. And what was that in the distance ??? It was the distinctive shape of Sacre Coeur Cathedral standing proudly on the Butte Montmartre. That almost made the climb worthwhile.
In the middle of the night I awoke and decided to stand on the balcony and see what was happening so many floors below. Although it was the wee small hours of the morning, there were quite a few people wandering about the streets. Some of the shops were still open. People were happily chatting and a few motor scooters were zooming their owners home. In the apartments opposite some of the lights were still on. As I have said many times before, Paris is NEVER boring (not even in the middle of the night).
Now that the ride is over I thought it might be time for a few rough statistics:
Total Number of Riders - 22
Number of Riders doing all 4 sections - 7
Total number of km ridden - well over 20,000 km
Places visited - Germany, Switzerland, France, Jersey, Guernsey and Sark
Number of different bikes used (in 4 sections) - 5
Type of Bikes - All were European Touring Bikes (quite heavy but well adapted for this type of riding), In sections 2 and 3 we had very good Specialised Brand bikes, many equipped with solid puncture proof tyres. In the Channel Islands the bikes were basically rubbish bikes that had not been serviced for decades (but this contributed much to the laughter)
Number of Injuries - 3 minor crashes, 2 falls into stinging nettles and one heart attack (and that was a first)
Number of different hotels stayed in - 27
Number of baguettes eaten - impossible to determine
Favourite cake - tarte citron avec meringue
Favourite place - St Malo
Favourite region of France - Brittany
Overall enjoyment rating - Excellent
Our next French ride is planned for 2019 and already I can't wait to start all over again.Les mer
Market Day in Auray
9. oktober 2017, Frankrike ⋅ ☁️ 17 °C
According to Trip Advisor, the top 2 things to enjoy in Auray are (1) The Port and (2) The Weekly Market. Since we arrived here two days ago we have made regular walks from our hotel to the Port and have become quite familiar with the sights along the way.
This morning we began the day with a walk through the quiet forest that adjoins our hotel. The paths were covered with a thick layer of brightly coloured autumn leaves that crunched loudly as we walked. This is another reminder that winter is rapidly approaching, although we will be long gone by the time it really arrives.
We emerged from the forest and followed a new route into the centre of town and were thrilled to see all the little streets and laneways were filled with traders. It was obviously market day and we had a wonderful time wandering up and down the long lines of merchants. Markets are an integral part of life in most French towns and they give a wonderful insight into the French passion with food and fresh produce.
Near our hotel we have noticed an "A Vendre" (To Sell) sign on a lovely small home. Each time we have passed by we have stopped to daydream about what it would be like to buy such a place. Sure it would be impulsive, but just about everything else worthwhile we have ever done has been the result of an impulse. We have never been ones to spend months deliberating over all the details. It certainly would be a beautiful place of the world to live in.
When we got back to the hotel we searched out the property on the internet and it looks like our plans will have to go on hold for a little while. With a price tag of close to a million Australian dollars, it would be a tad high to justify as a holiday home (or even our main home for that matter). We will have to keep on dreaming.
Tomorrow we will be catching the high speed train to Paris and we will be departing Auray with our luggage a little bit heavier after our purchases from the market. Our minds will also be loaded with happy memories of the short time we have spent here. It really is one of the many treasures of Brittany.Les mer
Signs of the Camino
8. oktober 2017, Frankrike ⋅ ☁️ 16 °C
Although I have been to France many times and have ridden and driven many thousands of kilometres all around the country, I have to admit that there is one feature that I had never noticed before. Next year I will be bringing a group 16 Ghostriders (Ghostwalkers ?) to Europe to walk the famous pilgrim trail from Roncesvalles in the Pyrenees to Santiago.
Although this route (the so called "Spanish Camino") is the most well known version of the walk, there are in fact dozens of different routes scattered all over Europe. The word Camino simply means "The Way" and the true pilgrims started their pilgrimage from their own front door and then walked all the way to Santiago. The cathedral there is supposed to contain the body of St James and this is the reason why tens of thousands of people still complete this pilgrimage every year.
The symbol of the Camino is the scallop shell. The radiating lines of the shell indicate that there are many possible starting points but only one destination. Scattered all over France are numerous camino paths and these are most commonly marked with brass scallop shells on the footpaths. Sometimes the way is marked with a green arrow or some other symbol.
Because we will be completing our own "Camino" in 2018 I have been more alert to these symbols and have been amazed at how often they appear, especially near the locations of famous cathedrals or abbeys. I have attached some images as well as a map showing some of the versions of the French CaminoLes mer
Return to Auray
7. oktober 2017, Frankrike ⋅ ☁️ 14 °C
I have to admit that the more we see of Brittany, the more we fall in love with it. After spending several days in Vannes we thought we had discovered a city that was just about perfect. Not too big and not too small and with a fantastic assortment of restaurants, tea houses, shops, parks, gardens and an amazing medieval city centre dating back to the 1500s. It was just the sort of place that we could imagine spending a year in if only we had the opportunity.
Although we were sorry to finally leave Vannes, our train tickets and hotel had already been booked for our next stop. We packed our bags once again (why do they always seem to be getting heavier ?) and wheeled them the 1.3 km back to the railway station. We were both relieved that we seem to have settled in to a prolonged period of fine and sunny weather, so the walk was more of a pleasure than a chore.
We arrived at the station just in time for a succession of announcements about train cancellations. It was just as well that our French has improved enough for us to now be able to understand quite a bit of what was being said. Dozens of passengers (most with luggage) started to file off the waiting train. This did not auger well for our trip. When we asked at the ticket office whether our train would be affected, we were met with a polite "je ne sais pas". We sat down in the station and waited.
The same passengers that had filed past us some time ago filed back in the opposite direction, and then once again for good measure back outside again. It was obvious that no one had any idea what was going on. As I have said many times before, life in France is NEVER boring.
When we finally boarded our train we were relieved to find that it was almost empty. We sat down with our luggage for the short trip to nearby Auray Le Loch. On arrival we caught a taxi to take us the 2.4 km to our hotel ( a little too far to walk with luggage). We were thrilled to find our hotel was situated right on the edge of town, in the middle of a forest. It was like being in a marvellous tree house. And that is one of the most delightful aspects of travel in Europe - you never know just what to expect of your next hotel until you are actually there.
After dropping off our luggage we walked through the forest to the old port. If we loved Vannes, we quickly adored Auray. It is a beautiful town with a lovely city centre and a beautiful port. The streets are quiet and clean and the many city bells are a regular reminder that we really are in France.
We had briefly visited here 4 years ago and had a rather traumatic experience when I accidentally drove our rental car right into the middle of the port (not knowing that I was driving the wrong way up a one way street). At that time I did not take much notice of the surroundings, I just wanted to escape with ourselves and the rental car intact. This time we have allowed 3 days to explore the town. We then catch the train back to Paris where we will be staying for 4 nights before the long flight back to Melbourne.
C'est la vie.Les mer
Onto Vannes
5. oktober 2017, Frankrike ⋅ 🌙 11 °C
Yesterday we somewhat sadly packed our bags and bade farewell to St Malo. We had a fabulous time there and watching the tides became an hypnotic part of each day's schedule. Unfortunately we were leaving before the tides reached their spectacular monthly maximum, so maybe we will have to take that into account in planning our dates for our possible next visit in 2019.
Accompanied by the now familiar sound of rolling suitcase castors we walked the 1.4 km to the Gare St Malo and waited for our train to Rennes. Our tickets did not have allocated seats so we had a bit of a scramble to secure places for ourselves and our luggage. An hour later we had arrived at the impressive Rennes Station and looked for the next train that would take us the rest of the way to Vannes.
This time we did have allocated seats, although for some reason the air conditioning in the carriage did not seem to be working. This meant that we had a somewhat uncomfortable time, but the high speed (over 200 kph) of the train and the superb scenery meant that the time went quite quickly.
We arrived at Vannes at around 3.30 pm, the warmest time of the day. The sun had shone brightly all day and chose that moment to shine even more. Our hotel was situated about 1.5 km from the Vannes Station and we had a rather hot and bumpy walk to its front door. Fortunately we made it without losing a castor and the welcoming lady at the desk told us that our room was waiting for us. This is always a relief, especially when the booking had been made almost a year earlier.
We had last visited Vannes back in 2013 and at that time we had been travelling with Paul and Jan Coutts. The following day was spent renewing our knowledge of the historic city and exploring many kilometres of its tiny roads and alleys. In the evening we had a pizza dinner at the same restaurant we had visited 4 years earlier. It is situated right at the top of the ramparts and gives an amazing view down to the manicured gardens below. The evening was warm and perfectly still and we even had the same friendly waiter who had served us four years ago. It was another magic end to a perfect day (and the pizzas were excellent too).
It is also worth noting that I have noticed several Camino signs during our travels this year. These have special relevance to me now that I will be walking the Camino next year. I guess these signs have been here for a long time, but I have never looked out for them before.Les mer
A Surprise Attack in Dinard
3. oktober 2017, Frankrike ⋅ 🌙 8 °C
October 2nd marked a rather significant day for Maggie - her 65th Birthday. She was actually thrilled to have reached such a great old age and to be able to celebrate such an event in beautiful St Malo. We can now both be officially classed as genuine "old farts".
This week the tides are progressively working their way towards the monthly peak. By this weekend the tides will be at their maximum and all the homes and businesses along the sea wall will be closing their shutters to help protect them against the wave damage. We took the opportunity of one of the growing low tides to walk far out to sea and look for interesting sea shells. We found a few colourful small shells to keep as a souvenir of a beautiful early autumn day.
By this time of the year the tourist season has largely ended and the towns have reverted to their normal cycles of life. The weather is mild and the deciduous trees have just started to take on the first signs of yellow, amber and red. It is the perfect time to travel in Europe. Forget the hot and crowded months of July and August !
In the evening we joined David and Carol and Gordon and Sue to celebrate Maggie's birthday at a nearby restaurant called the "Kidy Gwen". It seemed a somewhat mysterious name so I asked the owner what it meant. She explained that it was made from the initials of all the chefs. I guess that made perfect sense.
Somehow the staff discovered that it was a birthday and, at the end of the meal, brought out Maggie's desert decorated with a flaming firework that seemed to go on forever. The entire restaurant sang "Happy Birthday" (in French of course) and ensured that this will be a birthday she will never forget.
Dinard is a smaller companion city to St Malo, situated across La Rance and reached by a 10 minute water taxi ride from the citadel. We chose to spend our last full day in St Malo by spending a few hours in Dinard. The weather has settled down to provide a succession of fine and sunny early autumn days and the short ferry trip was absolutely delightful.
Earlier in the day we had farewelled David and Carol who were heading off on the long trip back to Melbourne. After sharing so much with them over the past 6 weeks we were really sad to see them leave. This meant that our team was down to just four.
We arrived in Dinard just as the large outdoor market was packing up. These markets are a feature of many French towns and provide a fantastic insight into the French culture.
After wandering around the quiet streets for some time we purchased a sandwich and a couple of cakes to enjoy by the seaside. After finding a lovely spot to watch the waves gently lapping the shore I felt that there could be no place on earth where I would rather be. Maggie opened her Tarte Framboise (raspberry tart) and began to enjoy her favourite French cake. All was well with the world. But it didn't stay that way for long.
Suddenly, out of nowhere, a huge seagull swooped out of the glare of the sun and grabbed a large portion of Maggie's tart. By itself that would not have been so bad if the bird had not also taken that very moment to completely empty its bowels over the two of us. We looked down and were shocked to find that we had been covered in a huge splatter of dark green seagull poo. It was a quick way to spoil the magic of the moment, but somehow we both laughed - what else could we do ?
Maggie sadly had to dispose of the remnants of her prized tart and we both set about trying to clean ourselves up. It is a moment that will long live in our memories. In spite of the seagull bomb, it was still a lovely day and we had so much to be thankful for. Tomorrow we will be leaving St Malo and making our way to Vannes. We are already looking forward to our next visit to St Malo in 2019.Les mer
More Free Time in St Malo
2. oktober 2017, Frankrike ⋅ ☁️ 14 °C
We have had a wonderful couple of days in beautiful St Malo. This place is very easy to fall in love with and the ever changing sea vistas keep us entertained for hours every day. The tidal variations here are enormous - up to 15 metres between high and low tide. This means that the wide sandy beaches are constantly in a state of flux. At the time of the low tide the sea retreats so far that it reveals a beautiful flat sandy expanse that stretches hundreds of metres from the sea wall.
That flat area becomes the favourite place for the locals to partake in a myriad of activities. Each day large walking groups make their way through the water's edge, getting their exercise by walking through the chest high water.
Any historical study of St Malo shows that over 80% of the old city was destroyed during the latter stages of WW2. The "old city" that you see now is actually a recreation that was begun in 1947 and completed around 20 years later. The builders certainly did an amazing job, however it is still somewhat artificial.
As we wondered the streets inside the towering ramparts we noticed several with rather whimsical names - such as Rue de Chat Qui Danse (the street of the dancing cat). Of particular interest to me were the places that were featured in that incredible novel "All the Light We Cannot See" by Anthony Doerr. Although the novel itself is an historical fiction, many of the places mentioned do actually exist. In the story Marie-Laure LeBlanc and her father escape from Paris to St Malo and live with their eccentric uncle at 4 Rue Vauborel. I can now tell you that the street does really exist, although number 4 looks nothing like the house described in the book.
We spent some time retracing the paths taken by the blind Marie-Laure as she counted her steps along the cobble stoned alleys of the war time city. When I get back to Australia I plan to reread this incredible story and I would strongly recommend it to anyone who is ready for an emotional but spellbinding read.
After another two days here we will be heading to Vannes to re-acquaint ourselves with another place we strongly wished to see again since we first visited there in 2013 .Les mer
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