After nearly a week in the Andes on mixed roads, we were finally about to head down to the coast, reducing the incidents of altitude sickness experienced by many, but little by us as we have been taking Diamox each day, half a tablet in the morning and half in the evening.
The road from Trujillo meandered down via many corners, but lost height fast. We were very concious that this was the longest day and even all though it was shortened by not going to remote Punta Sal, but staying near to Mancora village, it was still about 620 km. Generally the surface was excellent with few potholes. We all hummed along.
Everyone rode alone according to their interests and speed, which resulted in some funny passing exchanges. I had about 80% of a large tank of fuel and left last, with Paul leading out the front, followed by Rahn, JC, me and the truck with Sheryle and Willy in it.
The road was good and got better as the Pan American Highway (which runs from Alaska to Ushuia), in some cases even dual carriageway. However, it passed through a small number of towns and these were always packed with people and "tuk tuks" or three wheel carriages called Torinos or Little Bulls in South America and used for carrying two passengers - in one case an entire family of five was observed. In addition, Peru has instigated series of road humps in all towns, usually fairly modest but large in number. Occasionally they are very harsh (or steep) so that you have to slow to about 10km/hour to get over them comfortably, or take a mighty leap into space. But there are hundreds and they get wearing when you have a long distance to cover.
I was feeling good so decided to ride until I was at the limit of the bike's remaining range, which turned out to be about 386km. As a result, I passed all of the others, who were stopped for a pee stop, or for fuel, first being Rahn and JC and then later Paul.
He had stopped in a town we called "chick-fil-lay" after that food place in the USA, but the real name was Chiclayo. It was a large town and the most filthy I have experienced in all of South America. Peru has some wonderful things to experience and see, but they have two real problems being feral dogs and roadside rubbish. There are dogs all along the roads, even in remote places in the mountains, and they are generally feral, with a few looked after by locals. Mostly they do not attack or bark but a few do chase the bikes, and it is obvious that the council will eventually have to manage them in some formal way.
The rubbish is another matter. Basically at any layby on the side of the road in Peru, rubbish has been dropped by locals. There are differing views on why, but it is clear that the older people used to do this, as almost all their trash was biodegradeable. Now it includes plastic bags and bottles. While I could look past it in most places, Chiclayo was a different matter entirely. There was rubbish everywhere. The town is a central point for communications too, so on a local hill there were about seven huge radio masts with dishes and antennas, and houses directly underneath - clearly cancer will finally get to many inhabitants. In town there were rubbish bags blowing down the street, but out of town the piles of rubbish were maybe 3m high and stank. JC says this is cultural and that there are local tips for disposal, but I am sure this is not entirely true. Willy says that the correct thing is not taught in schools. It was simply not a nice place to be. Simply Peru must start public education to get people on the right course, as we did in Australia.
I continued on, across a large section with no towns or house and got well into my "reserve" of petrol, finally finding a garage just after a toll booth or "Peaj". By this time Rahn has passed me three times and couldn't understand why! Generally in South America, motorcycles are free at toll booths and there is a slip lane off to the right, usually hard to see and very narrow, but not requiring a stop. I did stop after one for a quick chat to JC. Anyway, I filled up at this garage and the cost was 146 SOLEs (about $60 AUS), which would be about five times the cost of filling one of the local small motorcycles. The female assistant was quite distressed, believing that the machine had measured it incorrectly, so I had to explain that my bike has a very large tank. We had a good laugh in that international mix of different languages and sign language.
Because of the change of hotel, our pre-provided GPS routes were going to be wrong, and so JC had given us clear instructions. Like "after the Manora sign, make sure you turn left down the gravel road before the bridge". This worked but the gravel road was not 3km long but nearer six to the hotel. The Bungalows are on the beach with good views to sea and a simple bar and restaurant. While not flash, it was nice to be beside the seaside. We had a local dinner in their restaurant and slept well.
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