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 out for a quick bite to eat. He returns with anticucho (cow heart) on a stick that he bought on a street corner. He tells me how a lady took it out of plastic bag and cooked it right there in front of him. She then gave him way too much change back, which he rightfully returned to her. I don´t know why he thought 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 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, a policeman gets on the bus 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, but I smile and wave to the camera

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 with row after row seating. The first floor, however, is unlike any bus I`ve ever seen before – giant, leather La-z-boy style seats that recline to almost horizontal with foot rests. Shortly after getting comfortable a stewardess brings around pillows and blankets. We have our own bathroom, better meals and elbow room. The best part – 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. The second floor has around 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 local dishes and relaxing at 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 sign up for a 3 hour tour for $30 USD. They don’t ask for a license, make me sign a waiver or ask if I have the slightest idea how to ride a bike. All they tell me is to stand outside my hostel tomorrow at 8am.

At 8:40am 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.¨ We walk past motorcycles in the hallway and half assembled frames in the living room. He tosses Bill, the Scotish man, and I a 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 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, hands 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, fire ‘em up and head to the 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.

Some goggles would have been nice.

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

The ride was awesome, but it was far from easy. We ride through loose sand and I almost dump the bike as my rear end fishtails. Later we walk the bikes around a sharp switchback then continue along a narrow cliffside path. After lunch we drive on a highway past a protesting mob. 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 – a 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. Volcanos surround us. It is beautiful.

That night Keating and I sit in the main Plaza listening to a girl talk to us in Quechua. We have no idea what she is saying. We tell her that we intend to sleep in the park because we have no money. She invites us to her house. We decline.

Up Next: Arica Discos