The ride from Ushuaia through Terra Del Fuego towards Buenos Aires was a mix of emotions for me. I was glad to be heading north towards sunshine once again but sad that this was going to be the last part of this ride. I just want to keep riding, I don’t care where, I could ride all the ways back to Alaska no worries, then just keep circling the earth for ever until I have ridden every road in each direction.

It was only a short 3040km from Ushuaia to Buenos Aires. We rode the 500km to Rio Gallegos in one day, most of it on dirt and gravel roads which were great fun to ride on through the howling winds of Patagonia. The wind has been kind to me all along, just the odd gust here and there but now they were making up for it by blowing me all over the roads. It reminded me of riding through the deserts of Iran but in Iran the roads are good. Here it’s downright dangerous especially when you try to overtake trucks and almost get blown underneath the wheels. Exciting all the same.

From Rio Gallegos the road was all paved, mostly flat and really boring. We averaged 500km a day sleeping most of the way to Buenos Aires and camped most nights. Thankfully the winds died down as the km fell. On route we diverted to see penguins and Orca whales in the national park on peninsular Valdiles. These whales snatch meals in the form of seal pups from the beach. Sadly though, we were a week or so early to see the Orca’s in action. There were plenty of pups playing in the surf but the whales hadn’t shown up yet. I have included a picture of a picture showing the whales in action in the slide show at the bottom. Nat Geo made a great documentary at this beach which is well worth a look.

The ride to the peninsular was interesting given all the rain in the area before we arrived. Parts of the dirt road to the coast had turned to mud so it was nice and slippery and great fun to ride on. My back wheel decided to pass my front out again in a particular bad section. Luckily for me I managed to stay on my feet as my bike took a mud bath. After this spill unbeknown to me my spare tires began to rub on my rear tire which resulted in me ripping some knobs off the rear tire and burning a hole right through my spare front tire. It was lucky I didn’t go too far before noticing. I was given full run of a tire repair place to change out my now destroyed rear, the shop was closed but the guy didn’t mind as long as I done all the work. From here we rode to a place called Azul and spent the night with a fellow biker named Jorge who left us camp in his garden, cooked up a massive BBQ and stuffed us all with meat. Thanks Jorge.

I’m now sitting in a hotel in Buenos Aires in the nice 30 degree heat. I’m going to be here for a while so I can arrange shipping for my bike and get to know the city and it’s people. So far it’s been fantastic and I’m actually learning to sit still again. Waking up in the same bed four mornings in a row is somehow strange to me. Every morning I feel the urge to ride, the urge to explore, the urge to get lost, to go some place new. On the other hand it’s been nice to have somewhere to lay my hat, maybe I’ll be able to assimilate after all.

Given all that’s happened in the last seven months I’ve decided to return to Australia for a while before tackling the African part of this trip. It will be good to spend some time with my family and friends and to have some time with my girlfriend Trish who has been very supportive of my trip. I know she’s only ready and willing to help me plan the logistics for the next leg of this journey. Your ground support has been great baby, thanks for everything.

This ride has been a wonderful experience for me, a wonderful experience in simple, natural living. What I’m going to miss most is the freedom, the freedom to get up each morning, jump on my bike and ride off in any direction.  The freedom to ride all day set up camp and sleep under the stars. The freedom to go wherever, whenever I chose. The freedom from unnecessary possessions and unnecessary burdens. The freedom to get lost and the freedom not to care.  You quickly realize what the essentials of life are when your on the road, such as warmth when you are cold, shelter on a rainy day, food when you are hungry and beer when you are thirsty. You soon put material things in their proper place, realizing that they are there for use, but relinquishing them when they have served their purpose. You soon experience and learn to appreciate the great freedom of simplicity. Over all I’ll miss the adventures and the adventurers I have met along the way.

I hope you readers have enjoyed the journey as I have enjoyed writing about it. A big thank you to everyone for your support and encouragement along the way. There were two times that without it I might have thrown in the towel. Thanks to all the riders I’ve met and ridden with along the way, you know who you are. Hopefully it wont be too long before I ride again. I’m looking forward to sharing the journey already.

Ride on

Kev O’Keeffe

The ride from Porto Areanas to Terra Del Fuego was great; It had a mix of everything thrown in. There was 100 km of dirt to contend with once we disembarked from the ferry. This was both exciting and dangerous and served as a reminder of what I’ve gone through for the last seven months whilst riding from Alaska to Argentina. There was also a border crossing to deal with down here. We had to cross back to Argentina to reach Ushuaia on the island of Terra Del Fuego.

From the ferry we were able to watch dolphins play in the wake of the boat as we crossed. This was a sign of things to come; this part of the world is full of wildlife. We camped in the wilds about 150km from Ushuaia, in a forest beside’s a river. I woke up early the next morning and found our camp site surrounded with grazing alpaca. They were soon scared off by a wild dog that appeared from nowhere, a wild hungry looking dog. He set off after a cria that was being carefully guarded by its mother. There’s also are all manner of birds down here, eagles are plentiful but they always take off before I can get a good picture.

From here we had to ride the last 150km through rain-soaked mountains. The fog was so ticked through the top that I could barely see the yellow line in the center of the road. It wouldn’t seem right to have good weather down here but that’s exactly what we arrived into town to find, the sun was there to welcome us. I had gotten split up from Mark and Andre on the way in and as I was waiting in town for them to pass I met a buddy of mine who happened to be walking past, Greg from Canada. I first met Greg in Alaska when I was returning from Prudhoe Bay; he has also ridden the same ride over the last seven months. We all went to the Dublin Irish bar to celebrate reaching another mile stone and we celebrated well into the night.

The following day we went as far as the road will take you to a point named Bahia Lapataia. This is the end of the road, you can go no further south than here without getting wet. The obligatory photo with the sign was taken before we went in search of some wildlife. From here the road goes north back to Buenos Aires which I’ll be taking in a few days. I haven’t ridden north in seven months, it will be good to have the sun in my face for a change.

The first days ride to El Chalten was appropriately 500km on dirt roads. It was a long and exciting day. All riders were split up throughout the day as we all rode at a different pace. Mark and myself reached the town of Tres Lagos first and managed to get hold of the last 20 liters of fuel (10 each) in town.Without this we could go no further as the next day’s destination was 180km away through more deserted landscape. We found a little hostel with  some serious heating, had dinner and called it a day.

The next morning Mark and I headed off to the Fitz Roy mountain range and the town of El Chalten. The road from Tres Lagos is paved and dull so we made good time. Here we met up with Andre again and went exploring the mountain side. We even climbed a little to get a better view of this spectacular mountain range. This is a place most people come to hike for days on end but after climbing Machu Picchu we made a rule to never stray too far from the bikes again. After all hiking is just a fancy word for walking and walking sucks, especially up hill.

The next morning we set off for the Perito Moreno glacier a mere 300km away. What a sight this was. I rounded a bend to be greeted with the biggest chunk of ice I’ve ever seen. It was so impressive I over shot the road and almost rode off a cliff. This 250km square ice formation, 30 km in length,  is the world’s third largest reserve of fresh water. It is one of only three Patagonian glaciers that is growing, the face of which averages 74 meters in height. We stayed for about 4 hours watching huge chunks of ice calf and fall in to the lake below causing huge waves. It’s a sight that must be seen if ever you’re out this way. From here we retreated back to the town of El Calafate and camped for the night.

The next morning we set off in search of a mechanic (Andre is with us again). This search has brought us back into Chile to the town of Porto Areanas. We have been here two nights already but ride out tomorrow, once again aiming for Argentina and the town of Ushuaia at the ends of the earth.Click to view slideshow.

From Santiago we headed south along the Pan-Americana for as long as we could stand it. It wasn’t very long at all before we were all drifting about the road and falling asleep on the mindlessly boring piece of highway; we turned off as soon as we could and ended up camping in an orchard along a river bank. The owner of the property is a biker himself and was happy to tell us where to camp down by a river. The next day we collected as many apples as we could carry and headed off along the coast before camping on a nice beach (or so we thought). That night after a dinner of pork chops and lots of apple sauce Andre heard a noise and got up to investigate only to discover his spare tires and Marks tools had been stolen. It was lucky Andre heard them and scared them off as we all had unlocked stuff left on our bikes. That morning we searched the bushes along the beach and demanded to look in our neighbors tents and cars but we had no luck.  Our neighbors were mostly immigrant workers brought in for the seasonal farm work. When we first set up camp we thought they were holiday makers but they were far from it. Whoever stole the stuff was long gone by morning. We later discovered that they had stolen Andre’s machete as well, it was just as well Andre didn’t see the guys and give chase. Following this we had to search for more tires for Andre, we need to carry spares because of the remoteness of the route we are taking down through Chile. It was then onto the lakes district riding around volcano after volcano before heading to Porto Montt and catching the ferry into Patagonia.

I have been looking forward to Patagonia since leaving Alaska and it hasn’t disappointed me yet. We had to catch three ferries and ride on fantastic dirt roads to get into the heart of it. First stop was a little town of Chaiten. This place sits at the base of some volcano, not a good place for a town. It was covered in ash from an eruption four years ago. A river of ash flowed through the town and buried half of the buildings. The government tried to get the residents to leave but most objected and wouldn’t budge. This resulted in the town being half abandoned and falling into disarray. Because of the weather we couldn’t camp. The guest houses were all full so we ended up sleeping in a shed for two nights while waiting for the weather to pass, luckily there was a nice wood burning stove inside so we could dry out all of our soaking wet gear. From here we rode on more dirt roads towards Coihaique stopping to camp a night along the way.

I have encountered countless protests on my travels through Chile. There are road blocks throughout the country especially in Patagonia. The people are protesting against a variety of things, the government is trying to build a dam in one area so the people block the roads and disrupt no one but themselves and a few tourists. I completely support these people’s protests but they have to organize and do it right. They have to do as the French do and block the capital Santiago with their tractors, bring the city to a standstill not their own little towns, which does nothing.  The government wants to build a dam and flood a valley full of houses to create a hydro electrical plant in one of the windiest places on earth where a wind farm would be the better option. Governments are the same all over the world I guess, full of corrupt baby kissing useless lying morons.

Other places they have been protesting about lack of facilities and infrastructure. The blocking of fuel trucks from the roads has become a problem for us. We spent 14 hours in a Q for fuel in a town of Coihaique from 9am to 11pm. The local people block fuel trucks from reaching the fuel stations, forgetting that they are the very people quing for the petrol every other day. We were in the Q from 9am along with hundreds of other cars; the fuel truck showed up at 4pm after somehow getting through the demonstrators but then they all showed up and blocked the vehicles from getting access to the fuel stations. Fires were lit all around the station and heaps of tires were burned while the cops just stood by and watched. They’re protesting about protecting the environment by burning tires and filling the skies with poisonous toxic smoke. Makes a hell of a lot of sense really.

One of the fires got so big it melted the overhead power lines and the whole town was cast into darkness. The protesters, now really excited by the darkness turned into rioters and on their own petrol station. It was being powered by its own generator and it lit up like a space ship landing in the night sky. They pelted it and all surrounding cars with rocks, breaking windows and smashing up the petrol pumps. We were a few hundred meters down the road and unaware of what was happening until the cars ahead of us started to flee as the protesters came our way. By the time we realized what was going on it was too late, they were upon us. We were parked behind a truck and slightly obscured from view when they passed us by; we looked like we were fleeing and luckily enough most rioters didn’t really notice us. The ones that did shouted abuse but kept walking. They were being forced down the road by teargas firing riot police. We then had to ride towards the petrol station through the police and tear gas to get away from the rioters. I copped a mouthful of this very delightful stuff on the way, I wasn’t sure what it was until I had tears streaming down my face and a sore throat. I reached the station to find it severely damaged, full of rocks and smoking tear gas shells.

The next morning we got up early and went in search of fuel, another station had received a shipment through the night and we were able to fill up after quing for a short hour. We rode about 5km out-of-town before being stopped at another road block this time set up by a load of truckers for some unknown reason. I’d had enough of this by now so rode right to the front and told them to get the hell out of the way. They produced a board full of nails and threatened to put it in front of the bike, Nick and Ivanka then came to the front as well, we were all a bit pissed off and let it be known, this must have had an effect as they let us through. We then rode on to the town of Porto Tranquilo before being stopped again on the way in. We wanted to camp on the other side of their town on a lake so we had to wait a few hours here; we passed the time cooking some soup and lying about in the sun. We camped in the shadows of ice-covered mountains that night before waking up to one of the most beautiful places I have ever seen. The lake was lit up with the morning sun along with the snow-capped mountains surrounding it. We rode around this lake General Carrera on a dirt track passing through ice fields for most of the next day before being stopped at another road block ten km from the Argentinean border.

This was the last one; we could take no more so we crossed out of Chile and into Argentina at the town of Chile Chico. We couldn’t go much further south trough Chile without having to double back anyhow. We have to re-enter Chile to get to Ushuaia but hopefully there won’t be any road blocks that far south.Click to view slideshow.

We headed out onto the salt at 5am, a little early for me but well worth it once we were out there. We had to take a 4×4 out there because the salt would wreak the bikes(we met a French type who brought his brand new bike out there. It was completely wreaked after one day. The salt had corroded everything including the wiring). I’d never seen anything quite like it before. Afterwards we headed out-of-town along a dirt road for about 200km before setting up camp in a field surrounded by lama and alpacas. We spent a cold night drinking beer sitting by a lama dung and plant root fire.

The next morning we headed off for a lake Colorado, a two-hour ride on the right road but a six-hour ride on the “road” we took. We ended up riding through the Arbol de Piedra, a Andes desert. I was taking the lead riding through sand, rock, gravel and washboard roads when I noticed one of my camera’s missing. I turned back to look for it, luckily enough  about five km back there it was lying in the middle of the track I previously had ridden. Since I hadn’t passed any of the others on my route back I figured they must have gone around the other side of the dunes so I turned around and gave chase. Unbeknown to me Andre had just broken down at the bottom of the dune I had just turned around on; I was now chasing shadows through this high altitude isolated plateau. I rode on alone for hours not knowing where I was or whether I was even going the right direction. My GPS had gone flat again and I couldn’t get it going and my back up GPS(my phone) also shat itself. How do these things always know when to break?

I was now following the deepest tracks, just hoping I was going the right direction. Next thing there’s a hail storm and being above  4000 meters it was fairly cold and miserable up there. I was beginning to get a little concerned for my life to be honest, I had enough water and food to last me 24hours but if I had an accident or ran out of fuel it could be days before I was found. Nevertheless and having no choice I pressed on through the cold. All of a sudden I came across this “stone tree” and a 4×4 with a few Colombians inside. I knew where I was when I saw the tree, I was in the desert riding the track we were told not to take.We had originally wanted to ride this track but were sternly advised against it.

I had a chat with the Colombians and found out I was only about 40km away from a ranger station. I had been on the wrong track all day but at least I had been going the right direction. I made it to the ranger station and enquired about my friends. It had taken me 6 hours to ride 90km through this desert. Luckily I only fell off once and didn’t do any damage , although to be honest I almost fell off a dozen or more times, one time at speed.

About an hour after I had arrived at the range station a 4×4 came in and told me they had passed my friends that two of them had broken down but were now moving again and two more were about an hour back. I headed off back into the abyss once more and about half an hour later I came across a worn out Nick and Ivanka. We decided not to go back any more because we could easily take a wrong turn and miss the other two and end up getting lost again ourselves. Instead we headed back and tried to find accommodation for the night. Soon enough Mark and Andre arrived looking a little worse for wear as well. They had to repair Andre’s bike in the middle of the desert , to repair it they had to dismantle half the bike as well. Andre was lucky not to have to abandon it out there. We then had to cook our own dinner in a “hotel” you wouldn’t sentence a dog too. It was defiantly one of the hardest and most rewarding days riding I’ve ever done. Everyone had taken a tumble throughout the day; we were all glad it was over, nobody was looking forward to the next day when we would have to do it all over again.

The next morning we left Laguna Colorado and its multicoloured flamingo filled lakes and set out through the desert again, this time all staying together. The first thing we came across was a mountain side of geysers. We had great fun throwing a flip-flop into one and watching it shoot 50 feet up into the air. Words of advice don’t dry clean your motorbike pants in a geyser when you’re wearing them, they can get a little hot. There were bubbling mud pits all around as well and believe me when the sign says mind your step you’d better mind your step. I had one hot foot for hours after stepping in some hot mud. Luckily for me I was wearing bike boots.

After this we came across a thermal hot spring beside a Laguna so we had lunch and a wash. It was good to be clean again even for a little while. Next the track headed back into the cold desert where the rains once again came a calling. Before long we came across the border and check point of Bolivia. The border post was the most isolated one I’ve ever came across. It sits all alone in the middle of the bleakest mountains imaginable. The guy stationed here must have butchered some royal family to get this post.  Thankfully it was the quickest exit I’ve had out of any country. We were out of the Andes and free of Bolivia once more.

(Bolivia is one of the most spectacular countries I’ve ever visited. It’s full of wonders and natural beauties that will along with the altitude take your breath away. I was really sick of taking pictures on the last few days; every head turn deserves a snap. On the other hand the towns and cities are among the most disgusting I’ve ever seen and frankly the people are quiet miserable as well. While the rest of the world is going “green” Bolivians are throwing rubbish from their car windows. We need to educate these people and get them to reuse and recycle before they destroy the country. No country belongs to any man or group of people, the world belongs to us all and we need to protect it. It’s not the people of Bolivia’s fault, they have little education. Maybe our carbon taxes should be directed to helping these people, to educating them, to get them to put catalytic converters in the vehicles and stop pumping toxic fumes into the atmosphere, to get them to stop burning and recycle, after all; we all breathe the same air. Aren’t there failures ours as well? We will all suffer in the end if it’s not sorted out soon.)

The ride out of Bolivia and out of the Andes was almost straight down, about 5km from the Bolivian border we reached a sealed road and descended into Chile rapidly. As km after km fell the temperature rose dramatically. By the time we had reached the bottom and a town called San Pedro the temperature had risen 25degrees (from 8 to 33). Entering Chile was straight forward although it took about two hours because of the que. We found a campsite, had some dinner and a few beers and called it a night. Another hard day in the saddle over with.

We were now in the Atacama desert of northern Chile. There’s not much here but sand and mining company’s. There are some mines 15km long, they’re literally moving mountains here to get at the shiny bits inside. We’ve camped most nights in Chile so far as there is little else to do besides ride and eat in this part of the world. I’m writing this from inside my tent on a beach about 200km north of Santiago. Tomorrow we enter the capital to get some work done on the bikes; to get them ready for the final assault southward, the journey to Ushuaia.  Click to view slideshow.

From there we headed off towards Potosi but it was too far a ride after the road of death so we camped in the middle of a field by a river. It wasn’t our first choice of camp spot, we were hunted from that. Honestly there is something wrong with the people here, their miserable to the core. They’re not just miserable to us though, their miserable to one another as well. I find it very funny though, small angry pissed off people everywhere; most are only up to my elbow height wise.

The morning after a night spent camping next to a little stream in the freezing cold we departed again for Potosi a whole 400km away. I had a flat tire again so stopped to get it fixed in a little town on route. It took the guy over an hour to fix but he done a great job and only charged me $3 for his efforts. Shortly afterwards we rode into a hail storm. It was hard riding through this, the road was incredibly slippery. There was a car that kept overtaking us and doing the bollox generally that ended up sliding right off the road into a gully. The occupants weren’t hurt luckily enough; I guess that’s karma for you. After this we rode through the biggest dump of a town I have ever seen, the whole place was full of rubbish, it was disgusting to be honest. Bolivia would be a beautiful place if you just got rid of the rubbish and the people.

From here on the ride was fantastic, the roads wound they’re way through the mountains to the town of Potosi, which the lonely planet describes as the highest city in the world. Its elevation is 4060 meters above sea level; luckily enough we have been sleeping at heights that have let us adjust to the altitude. Potasi was once on a par with Paris and London. It was once rich in minerals before the Spanish raped the earth. It is now another dump (although the old part is nice) where small companies risk the lives of children to dig out the precious metals. The average life span of a miner is 31 years, children start working here at 14 and stay till they die. If they find no metals they don’t get paid. You can go and have a tour of the mines but I couldn’t be bothered, they’re extremely dangerous because there is no control here. They blast their way through without any concern for the other mining companies’ whereabouts. Tunnels are drilled on top of each other and drilled with dynamite which you can buy here in town. We were going to get some and blow something up in the desert but no one is willing to carry it.

Next for us it’s off to the salt flats before heading to Chile.Click to view slideshow.

The next morning I set off through the mountains again for a town called Puno about 350 km away. The road reached a height of 4400 meters. It was bleak and dismal to be honest. I had to take out my winter gear and re-dress on the top of a mountain pass I was so cold. Some of the scenery in parts was nice; there were alpaca and lama everywhere (although I don’t know which is which). I reached the town of Puno about 12 o clock, had some lunch and explored it for a couple of hours. I found it a town best viewed in my rear view mirror so I took off towards Copacabana Bolivia. I reached the border around 5 pm; it was open till six so I had plenty of time.

Crossing out of Peru was no problem at all, there were four different offices that I had to go to but they were all next door to each other. I was out of Peru and into Bolivia in no time. First port of call here was Immigration which was a five min affaire; there was no one else about. Then it was off to see the customs guy. This is where the fun started. He appeared nice at first but was far from it. I gave him all my paperwork and he filled out the proper forms. Then he wanted to see my insurance for Bolivia. I told him I didn’t have any but was willing to buy some if there was some place selling it. He told me the only place was in La Paz 150km away and that I would have to go there purchase this and come back leaving the bike with him until I returned. I told him he was loco if he thought I was doing that. Then he starts to lean back in his chair rubbing his fingers together. I leaned back in mine and stared at him. He then stood up and looked out the window while rubbing his fingers together behind his back. I think he expected there to be a little something on the table when he turned around but surprise surprise there wasn’t. I was only going 8km further that day and could sit there all night. There was now a que beginning to form behind me because I had my chair blocking the door to his office and wouldn’t let anyone else in. If he wanted to get home that night he’d better let me go. He finally gave up and let me through after we stared at each other for another ten minutes. It was still easier and more enjoyable than most border crossings in Central America.

I then rode on to Copacabana and explored the little town on the shores of Lake Titicaca before meeting up with Mark, Nick and Ivanka again. The next day we took a boat to the isle of the Sun, the birth place of the Incas. Not too much out there to be honest, mostly just piles of rocks. I think by now I have seen more than my fair share of piles of rocks. I wish they would just finish one pile before starting another. Take Machu Picchu for example, it was defiantly the best pile of rocks I’ve seen for a long time, I can only imagine how amazing it will be when it’s finished whenever that will be.

The next day we headed off for La Paz a whopping 150km away. It was only a short distance but it took us 5 hours. First problem of the day was my rear wheel was flat, easily fixed though. I think some of the neighborhood kids might have let it down to get revenge for me shouting at them the previous night. They were playing football outside my window till 1am while their parents and the rest of the village drank themselves into oblivion. Then we had to que for fuel for half an hour before paying almost double what the locals pay for it. The government subsidizes fuel for the locals so they charge us more because we don’t pay tax here, fine with me but I bet the government never see’s their share. Then we had to cross the lake on a real dodgy “ferry”. Then there was a road block that the locals had set up for some unknown reason (the people here aren’t too bright to be honest). They blocked the road with rocks spread all through for hundreds of meters. We had to ride through fields to get around this. I had my second “off” of the trip in one such field when my back wheel decided my front wheel was going to slow and passed it out spinning me round in a circle. No damage done though. Then there was the crazy traffic as we entered the city of La Paz. I think you get your driving license in a packet of crisps here. No one obeys traffic signals or laws here, they all drive like we ride, which makes for total and utter chaos.Click to view slideshow.

The next morning we left the bikes behind and took a mini bus to the local hydro electrical plant. Along the way you could see the engineering that went into powering this part of the country. The Peruvians drilled tunnels in the mountains, inserted turbines and diverted the rivers inside to turn the turbines and create the power. All fairly ingenious in my book. From here we walked 9km along the train tracks to the foot of the mountain containing Machu Picchu, to a town a little town called Aguas Calientes. We spent the night here relaxing and getting ready for the climb to the summit. We left at 4:30am for some unknown reason and walked up the million steps to the top. Why we walked I’ll never know, it was the stupidest thing I’ve done since swimming in the Atlantic on the first of January. The walk was a killer, we were told that if we walk up we will be there before the crowd but as soon as we reached the gate exhausted, the busses started to arrive with cheery people who had a nice night’s sleep and a spin to the top.

Machu Picchu is some site for sure; we entered into the ruins in thick cloud cover. Soon after entering the sun came up and over the “Sun Gate”, the clouds began to disperse and we were greeted with a spectacular view. It’s such an amazing place I couldn’t do it justice with words so there are heaps of photos at the bottom of this blog entry. We spent about 6 hours up there, 4 hours walking around and 2 hours napping on one of the terraces above the city before getting the bus back down to the village below.

I decided to get the train back to Santa Theresa as I had enough walking for one day. The train was at 1:30 so I had plenty of time for diner before setting off on the 9km train journey. When I went to get a ticket I discovered this one carriage train was full and they would not let me on. There was plenty of room to be honest but they don’t allow standing, I offered to hang off the side but they would not allow this so I had to walk the 9km of tracks alone. It was actually quite enjoyable to be honest; I couldn’t stop humming the tune from the movie “Stand by me for some reason”. I reached the power plant just a one of the workers was driving home and asked him for a lift. He agreed to give me a lift for 1 soles      ( 30 Cent ) and off we went along the hanging roads. We chatted about various subjects, him in some crazy language and me in English. When we reached my lodge I gave him 20 soles for his trouble. His face lit up, to me this is 6 dollars to him it was a fortune. I was glad to make him happy and he left with a huge grin. I hopped on my bike and headed for the hot springs to soak my tired body before dinner. We were all in bed asleep for 8pm that night.

The next morning at 7am we headed off back for Cusco. Along route Kerman took his first spill of his trip and ended up sliding through a river. He was fine but a bit wet. His handle bars were a little twisted but he was able to fix them easily. We rode through the Andes for a few hours on these dangerous roads. I came across a bus that has slipped over the edge one time. I wouldn’t have liked to have been a passenger on that ride. I reckon it would have been your last. Its hard to make out in the photo because of the clouds but the bus is about 100 meters below the road. I rode on more carefully after seeing that before stopping for lunch in a nice little town. We were kept amused by the local cops trying to get the Peruvian flag down from their flag pole. It was a comical affair. We gave them a round of applause when they finally succeeded a half hour later. We then took a dirt road over the mountains and back to Cusco. The night was spent in an Indian restaurant and the Norton rats Pub.

I fly back to Lima to pick up my bike today. I got an email last Friday telling me not to bring the computer as they had fixed the broken wires that had caused the problem. Why they could not have found the broken wires before telling me to order an 800euro computer I’ll never know. These wires have cost me a fortune but I’m hoping to get a refund from BMW at some stage. I’m not going to let this incident ruin my trip, I’m going to put it behind me and move on. I’m hoping to be back on the road with my bike tomorrow heading for lake Titicaca.Click to view slideshow.

 
To get this unit and have it installed is going to cost me around 1400$ all up. I raced through Ecuador and Northern Peru to see the Dakar rally only to be let down 200km from the finish by this useless part that has no place in a bike as far as I’m concerned. My bike is two months out of warranty as well but I’m hoping BMW will come up with a good will warranty and help with the costs. This incident has set me back two weeks now so I might have to miss out on a lot of what I wanted to see because making it to the bottom of the Continent before March is extremely important as it will be too cold there after February to enjoy. I bought a BMW for this trip because they are supposed to be hassle free but I’m really discovering the opposite.

 
Patagonia and beyond is what I’ve been looking forward to since leaving Alaska. I much prefer the people free wild open spaces than the cities, I’d prefer complete isolation to anywhere populate any day. I suppose it’s just as well the bike’s computer has let me down here rather than in the middle of nowhere like Patagonia but I’m still not happy about it. It should not have let me down at all. It’s supposed to be there to help not hinder.
Anyway I’ve decided to fly down and check out Machu Picchu while I wait for my bike to be repaired. I’m meeting up with some friends there, Mark, Andre, Kerman, Nick, Ivanka and the guy who calls me Fred. I’m going to hire a bike and ride a dirt track to Machu Picchu for 4 days. It will take a few days to explore so that will keep me busy and out of the city. I will have to return this way when I get back on the road because I want to see lake Titicaca if I have time, but at least I will have seen Cusco and when I return and won’t have to stop for more than one night.

 
When I was booking the flight on the net the offer of a return flight from Lima to Cusco was $137. When I went to pay I found out it’s only for Peruvians. I had to pay $400+ to get on the same plane. When I looked into getting train tickets for the journey from Cusco to Machu Picchu I discovered, for locals it’s about $10 and for foreigners its $100+. I’m not complaining rather just thinking aloud, what sad state the world is in when one person can afford to pay up to 10 times more than someone else for the same thing. They are right to charge foreigners more so that they can share in the world’s wealth. If one person can afford to pay up to ten times more than someone else just because they were born in a different geographical area the world is truly screwed up.
It makes me so sad to see the contrast between the rich and the poor here as well as anywhere else. This world is full of so many great people and holds so much beauty on one hand while on the other it’s full of greed and ugliness. While people continue to measure wealth on the basis of having more than the next person we will never be equal and without equality I fear the world will never be happy or at peace. There is an old Maori saying “Wealth should be measured by how much you give away not by how much you have” and how true it is.

I have a great fear of reincarnation because of the fact that there are more horrible places in this world than good which narrows your chances of coming back to a better life. Buddhists believe we keep coming back until we figure it all out. Hindu’s have a belief that the better you are in this life the better your next life will be. These theories both terrify me. I don’t ever want to come back to a world where people use and abuse other people more than they love and help each other.

 
There are people living in hell holes around the world working 18 hours a day for pittance because they know no better and everyone else just turns a blind eye and profits from it. Slavery was never abolished it was just replaced with a monetary system that keeps people in their place. Are we to blame just because we are born in a better place or are we to blame because we turn a blind eye to the affairs of the world. Each day the likes of CNN and Sky news feed us complete bullshit to keep us blindfolded to what’s really going on. (One time when I was in Lahore Pakistan watching BBC I was surprised to discover I was in the middle of a war zone,Pakistan was officially in a state of emergency. Luckily they told me because I didn’t know). Governments start wars on false pretences and only a handful of people object. Innocent people are slaughtered like live stock but because they are far away and no one cares. We need the oil and gas and we need it cheap. And we need this because electric cars are kept off the market to keep us feeding shareholders of the oil companies. Just like the unprofitable pharmaceuticals are never manufactured and plants that grow in the ground are made illegal. And worst of all governments start wars so their economies and their buddy’s companies can profit from all this.   I know there is a hell and it’s right here on earth for many people but maybe all the poor and hungry people were  oil-profiting-world-destroying-bastards in their last lives. Maybe there is equality….

Oh what a wonderful world.
Rant over.

I’ve seen the sights of Lima already, It’s massive with massive contrasts between the have’s and have not’s. One area will be completely different from the next .The people are friendly here so that’s great but the road is calling out to me, it needs me and I need it.

I went to see the Dakar rally come to town which was interesting enough, couldn’t get near the podium though. It was reserved for people who didn’t know what they were looking at. The podium was in the old town square and the ordinary people couldn’t get near, you couldn’t even get near the roads leading to the square. Watching it on TV afterwards it looked better outside anyway’s, the atmosphere was electric with riders popping wheelie’s, cars and trucks doing do-nuts and burnouts before entering the square. It was nothing like it would have been going through the desert but at least I got to see the vehicles.Click to view slideshow.