Motorbiking Arequipa

9/27/09 – 10:00 pm. Cusco. Keating and I head to the bus terminal to catch our first overnight bus to Arequipa, Peru. Seeing that there is a good hour before the bus leaves, Keating steps outside to look for a quick bite to eat. He returns with anticucho (cow heart) on a stick that he bought on the street corner. He tells me how she took it out of plastic bag and cooked it right there on the street in front of him. She then gave him way too much change back, which he rightfully returned to her. I don´t know what made him think that it was a good idea to eat street meat immediately before a 12 hour bus ride with limited bathroom, but surprisingly he survived.

Prior to boarding the bus a policeman asks me if I have any alcohol on me to which I respond, ¨no¨ and step onto the bus. There was no inspection  of my bags. For the next security checkpoint, the policeman comes on the bus, stands in the doorway and points a small home-style video camera at us. Apparently this is their advanced security measures. I don`t know where exactly this evidence would come into play should their be a robbery and I can´t help but think of how ridiculous it is.

We opted for the premium ¨cama¨ (bed) section, which is first class. The large bus has two floors. The top floor is similar to any other bus I have been on before with row after row of seats. The first floor, however, is unlike any bus I`ve ever seen before. Giant, leather La-z-boy style seats wait for us that recline to almost horizontal with foot rests supplied by the seats in front. Shortly after snuggling into our places a stewardess brings around pillows and blankets. We have our own bathroom, better meals and elbow room. The beauty is that we only paid an extra $10 for these seats. Another reason to spring for the luxury floor is that it is much safer. There are only 9 seats on the first floor, where the second floor has something like 50. When purchasing the tickets Keating and I were approached by a guy who told us horror stories of being robbed on the second floor. His story made our decision easy.

In Arequipa we spend a few days walking around the city, sampling some local dishes and relaxing the Plaza de Armas. Food is incredibly cheap in Peru, especially Arequipa. Many restaurants offer a ¨Menu del dia¨ lunch special for just 3 soles (1 USD), which usually consists of a starter (soup or salad), entre (meat and rice or potatoes), desert (jello or pudding) and a drink. It couldn`t be cheaper to buy the food and cook it yourself. Surprisingly some people at the hostel still decided to make avocado and bread sandwiches.

Arequipa is a decent city, but compared to the touristy city of Cuzco it felt like we were in the middle of nowhere so Keating and I did the next logical thing – bought a giant knife and a machete.

14 inch knife: $3

Machete: $9

Feeling secure: Priceless

We walk through sketchy markets selling vegetables and knock off clothes.

Somewhere in town we stumble into an M.C. Escher picture…

A booth that offers motor bike tours catches my eye. I quickly signed up for a 3 hour tour for $30 USD. They didn`t ask for a license, ask me sign a waiver or if I even had the slightest idea how to ride a bike. They asked me where I was staying and told me to stand outside tomorrow at 8am.

At about 8:40am the next morning a motorcycle carrying two men roars up to my hostel. A small man, standing about 5`5 is driving and an older man from Scotland sits behind him with a look of terror in his eyes. The short driver introduces himself as Eddie. Thankfully he hails a taxi for us and beckons the cab to follow him to his house. At his casa he invites us in to pick out some ¨gear.¨ As we walk past motorcycles in the hallway and half assembled frames in the living room he tosses Bill, the Scotish man, and I the box with our supposed safety gear. I look inside and can`t help but let out a laugh. There are a few pairs of nasty winter gloves with holes, a single elbow pad and a pair of childrens` shin guards. Really? No goggles, no motocross gloves, nothing of use. The helmets are even more comical. Bill and I quickly grab the only motocross looking helmets. Two young guys from France show up and have slim pickings. The one is left to take a helmet that is much too large for his head. Eddie, the leader of the tour, solves the problem by handing him a winter hat to wear under the helmet to help compensate for the mismatched size.

We all wait while Eddie makes last minutes adjustments to the bikes – real comforting. The bikes are 250cc beasts straight out of the 1980s. I get last pick of the bikes, but I don`t care seeing as they are all equally likely to break down. We hop on the bikes, let em warm up and drive down the street a gas station for a quick fill up.

Now in order to get to the trail we need to drive along paved roads (read: highway). I`ve already mentioned what I think of Peruvian drivers so it is a bit nerve racking weaving through traffic. He leads us through dirt paths, around farms, narrowly missing dogs as they run out in front of us, nipping at our feet.

Thankfully I have sunglasses to help with the dust, but some of the other guys weren`t so lucky.

At our second stop, Eddie leads us through a canyon to a beautifully secluded spot surrounded by 12 or so waterfalls. I wish I had my camera. Thankfully, Bill later sent me all this pics from his camera phone.

The ride was awesome, but it was far from easy. At one point we ride through loose sand and I almost dump the bike as my rear end fishtails. Later we have to walk the bikes around a sharp switchback then continue along a narrow cliffside path. After our lunch break we drive on a highway past a line of traffic caused by a protest in a small town. As we double line the traffic, passing in the middle of the street, an oncoming tractor trailer nearly clips me.

At lunch we drink chicha – traditional corn based drink, a type of fermented beverage common in the region. Traditionally, Inca women made this important drink by chewing corn to a pulp and then spitting the mixture into a vat of warm water. Hopefully ours was made in a more sanitary fashion.

Our last stop of the day is at a tower over looking the whole city with views of the surrounding volcanoes. It is beautiful.

That night Keating and I sit in the main Plaza while some girl talking to us in Quechua. We have no idea what she is saying but think she wants us to buy her chocolate. We tell that we have no money and intend to sleep in the park because we have no money. She invites us to her house but we decline.

Up Next: Arica Discos

Tagged as: arequipa, motorbiking in arequipa, peru moto bike