Day 981
Huánuco Pampa
We had come down from the highs of the glacier, both literally and figuratively. After a night in a basic hotel recommended by some miners in the village of Huallanca we set off for Banos. With hindsight we would have been better taking the bigger road, which though longer would definitely have been more rideable, but then again we'd have missed so much!
Our friend Matt P had advised us to avoid the shortcut to Banos as it was unrideable, but we headed along it a short way to visit the Inca site of Huanuco Pampa. The low oxygen levels were again making me struggle, so whilst Tom, Helene and Jeff went to explore, I rested in the sun and practised my bad Spanish with passing visitors. The site was an administrative centre for the Incas, linked to other centres by an extensive road system. So yet again we were on the Inca road that ran from Cusco to Quito. At its height the city covered an area of over 2km squared, with over 4,000 buildings. It had a pyramidal platform at the centre of a plaza where officials would preside over ceremonies. Quite a fair few of the buildings remain so the intrepid trio had fun exploring it all.
Then it was back to the easier road to Banos.Well I don't know what Matt's road was like, but this certainly wasn't easy. Random rocks sticking up everywhere made for a very uncomfortable ride. The hills started in earnest too. At one point I was ahead and stopped for a breather, up on the hillside I could see several hundred people clearly having a party, even the cows were wearing garlands. Suddenly several people started running downhill towards us. We waited in anticipation, what was going to happen? It was a Saturday, which as we were in Peru, generally means another festival. A lovely lady with a very mischievous expression on her face, reached us first. Her hand was cupped, holding what turned out to be talcum powder. She smiled at Tom, managing to convey by expression alone that she wanted to cover him in talc. He nodded in agreement, and within seconds all four of us were covered. Then we were decorated with paper garlands, our photos taken, greetings exchanged. Slowly the villagers returned to their party and we continued upwards.
Lunch was taken in a local restaurant in a remote village. A tiny room, no windows with only one thing on the menu, a potato stew, served with rice and a small piece of trout. Tom ate everything, the rest of us handed our trout to a fellow diner.
Then it was upwards again, the road became rutted and muddy. Banos was a town too far, so we stopped in Rondos, or as I rechristened it, Mud-Town. Apart from the village square there were no paved roads, and the heavy rain had turned every track into a deep rutted mud bath. Some locals guided us to a local hospedaje, which turned out to be owned by one of them. It had a central courtyard area, an earth floor, partially covered by a corrugated iron roof. The family used this as their living quarters. A small kitchen area, with a few seats and some tables to sit around. Jeff played ball with one of the family members’ 4-year-old daughter whilst we took it in turns to have a hot shower. It was in a tiny outdoor room, just enough space to stand up in, no lighting but we didn't mind, a hot shower is such a special treat. Fortunately they were happy for us to cook our food, it was too wet to venture out. The woman of the house brought us endless hot water for drinks and cooking, and even scrubbed my pan clean, nearly 3 years on the road, cleaning it with a worn tooth brush had left a fair few stains!
We decided to have a short day to Banos, so we could all rest up. We passed two hot spring baths, but we couldn't face stopping and starting again. Being the weekend there was a festival here too. Basically they dug up the road and strapped up two decorated trees. Tom helped, and we were treated as honoured guests, free drinks were handed out, party time again.
Helene being French was suffering from cheese withdrawal, and as the shop had no change we happily bought 4lbs worth. Jeff was volunteered to carry the unopened one when we set off,well he is the youngest. Naturally there was yet another massive near unrideable climb out of there. We were heading out into the remote hills. Few people live out here and the small villages looked near deserted. Late in the afternoon we made it to Antacolpa, in theory there were 3 places called hotels, in reality they either didn't exist or the couple who ran one were away. We headed for the village square, we asked 3 rather uninterested locals for suggestions, one of them indicated the village hall, unfortunately it was locked. Fortunately the panel by the door had no glass in it and within seconds Jeff had the door open. The stage became our sleeping, eating, and cooking area. Tom found some open outdoor toilets, no water turned on, but there was plenty of rain water flowing through the streets, so we used an old bucket to collect water and fill the cisterns. Voilà, flushing toilets, we were ‘home’ for the night!
