My last travelreport ended in Lima, the capital of Peru. 80 years ago Lima had only 173,000 inhabitants, but it's wealth made many rural Peruvians move towards the historically rich town. Nowadays almost 10 million people live in Lima, most of them in Lima's immense slums. Business and it's money has almost completely left the historic center of Lima and has established itself in the modern western-orientated suburbs San Isidro and Miraflores, both situated south of Lima. Modern buildings, shopping malls, businessmen with cellular phones, brand new cars, McDonalds, Burger King and Dunkin' Donuts; it looks like I am back in the U.S.A. again.

I myself stay in Barranco, which is situated a little south of Miraflores. Barranco is not Lima's latest southern suburbial extension, but a historic seaside resort, where upper-class Lima has been enjoying itself already for over a hunderd years. Especially the many historic country houses, often miniature castles complete with small towers, remind me of Scheveningen (a well-known expensive historic Dutch seaside resort close to The Hague) where you can see similar architecture. My first Peruvian hosts are Ramon Mendoza and Wendy Ramos. It takes me almost an hour cycling from Lima's center to reach their home in Barranco. Mainly due to the many traffic-lights, but also because of the hunderds of smoky mini-vans, cutting your way without mercy for every potential customer walking on the pathway. Defensive driving is the very first requisite for a cyclist in Lima!

When I arrive in Barranco Wendy is already waiting for me. She has to go to rehearsal and asks me to join. Quickly I unpack my bike, bring in my luggage and park the bike. Still in cycling-outfit I enter her car and some minutes later I meet the other actors/actresses playing in 'Pataclaun', the Peruvian comedy in which she acts. Although the point of the jokes often is not clear to me, because of my limited knowledge of the Spanish language, it is very interesting and enjoyable to witness the rehearsal. Together the cast discusses the screenplay, rehearses scenes and spontanious ideas are tried out and evaluated. The comedy, which is about 5 clowns living together in one house, is very popular in Peru and can be seen every Sunday-evening on Peruvian TV. During the rehearsals the outfit of the actors/actresses is limited to just a clowns-nose, but on TV every clown wears of course the complete proper clown-outfit, something I will see later on video. After the rehearsal I meet Wendy's husband Ramon. who has his own tattoo-studio in Miraflores' center. Just like in the U.S.A. and Europe, tattoos have become increasingly popular in Peru in the last decade and Ramon's agenda is over-full.

Wendy and Ramon live, together with their two young labrador-dogs, in a tastefully furnished appartment in Barranco. The dogs are both very playful, and not only on the beach, but lucky they are good-natured animals and my anti-dog-buzzer can stay in my pocket. My first real day in Lima I spend walking through Miraflores, where I also visit an internetcafe. Around six o'clock I go to Ramon's studio to see the artist live at work. At that moment he is busy with a tattoo of Che Guavara, still one of South-America's most popular persons, especially among young people. At night I join Ramon, Wendy and some of their friends at a visit to (probably) Lima's most modern discotheque 'Mammoth', who celebrates it's first anniversary that night (with cheaper, but still western-priced drinks). The discotheque honors it's name and has several floors with different styles of music and is western-fashioned and -orientated.

The next day I make a short bicycletrip in the morning through Barranco and surroundings. In the afternoon I visit the historic center of Lima, a visit I continue the next day under guidance of a local citizen. At first he told me he was just interested in showing his town, but at the end he was just interested in money. Normally a liar can not expect any support from me, but after a half day of joining me (and having the possibility to practise some Spanish) I made an exception (although he explicitly told me before joining me he was not expecting any money from me) and gave him $ 5,=. It is already sad enough that many Peruvians have to make a living this way, but it is the reverse side of a country so historicaly interesting.

As Ramon and Wendy have to go out I have the evening all for myself, and evening I spend on preparing and thinking over the rest of my trip. Did I erase Chile already at an earlier stage of my itinerary because of limited time, now I am thinking over the three other planned countries: Bolivia, Paraguay and Uruguay. From these three countries Bolivia is the one that appeals mostly to me, but it is also the one less suitable to travel in the months December-January-February, as these months form the rain-season, with 3 out of 4 days of rain in January. Together with the knowledge that 95 % of Bolivian roads are dirt-track, which turn to mud during the rain-season, and the risk of land-slides I doubt seriously whether it is smart to continue my trip through Bolivia in this period. The alternative, along the coast towards Chile, however is also not very interesting, as it's landscape is, until Santiago (2500 km) similar to the Peruvian coast: desert with strong winds from the south! So I decide to shorten my trip with three months and save Bolivia, Paraguay and Uruguay just like Chile for another future trip. It also gives me the opportunity to celebrate Christmas with my family and New Year with my friends, something appealing more to me than spending these days abroad (although it could have been also wonderful days abroad with the propriate people, people I often met during this trip so far!).

I decide to spend my time left until Christmas completely in the Peruvian inland. The next morning, with my camping-equipment stored at Wendy and Ramon's place, I leave Barranco. I have some difficulties in Lima in finding the right road which leads toward the Andes, but after 40 (instead of the planned 20) smelly, smoky dangerous kilometres I am on the right track heading inland. Only after another 40 kilometres, in Chosica, situated at the feet of the Andes, the landscape starts to get interesting again. But before going on I spend the night in this with Peruvians popular winter-sport-resort. The next day I give it a try to reach La Oroya. Although I have 50 % less luggage without my camping equipment, it is still very doubtful if I will reach La Oroya today as I have to cover 140 kilometres and climb for many of these kilometres to conquer the Ticliopas (4818 metres). But according to my travel-guide there is after 70 km at 3000 metres altitude also a possibility to spend the night in a small hotel. Passing the village with the mentioned hotel everything is still going very well, and I decide to cycle on as it is 'only' 30 more kilometres to the top. However I did not reckon with altitude-sickness, and already at 3500 metres the first symptoms declare itself. I feel headache, dizzyness and have to stop several times to gasp for breath.

Finally I am able to spend the night in Casapalca, a mining-village at 4200 metres altitude. One of it's few farmers runs also a small shop, restaurant and guest-house. Don not visualize to much of it: the assortment of the shop and number of dishes on the menu can be counted on two hands and the number of rooms on one!. After I have taken some drugs (coca-tea) to reduce my altitude-sickness-symptoms, which become worser and worser (the last few kilometres I had to stop several times as I got dark spots before my eyes and felt like I would faint any minute), I have a soup which without any doubt would have tasted less if I would have visited the toilet before. My room is just big (or should I say small) enough to fit in a bed and one chair, and of sheets these farmers probably never have heard. Luckily I have my own sheet with me so I can still sleep a little hygienic and comfortable. Enough now about the moderate accomodation, as as bad as this was, so good were the people: a really friendly, interest-showing traditional Peruvian farmer's family trying to help you as good as possible with their limited means. The primitive circumstances of these mountain-people had it's own charms, and one felt more like a guest than a tourist!

The next morning I wake up with still a pounding headache, but I still deceide to leave, as it is 'only' 15 km to the top. Although I do not threathen to faint anymore, the 15 km are long and tough. In the small cafe (more a shed with some tables and chairs) at the top of the Ticlio-pass I take some extra coca-tea to reduce my altitude-sickness-syptoms... and to warm me up as the temperature is just above freezing-point. To stay warm also during the descent I use my rain-suit, as the freezing wind cuts through my clothes. Arriving in La Oroya it takes some time to find the hotel, as the long length (20 km) of this city makes me conclude falsely I have arrived in the centre. La Oroya is the mining-centre of the Andes-region in the middle of Peru. It is situated in a landscape of bold, pale, huge rocks. The town itself however is very colorful, picturesque and lively.

The next day the landscape, which gives me more the feeling I am cycling on another planet, goes along with me for several kilometres, but very slowly it becomes more vegetated. Finally I reach Jauja, the first large town in the Mantaro-valley, where I visit the local market and spend the night. The centre of the Mantaro-valley, Huancayo, is now only 40 kilometers away and forms my next, and also final, destination in Peru. In Huancayo I stay in the beautiful guest-house 'La Casa de mi Abuela' ('my grandmothers' house) and it is indeed runs by a very friendly, hospitalble, talkative grandmother. At arrival I am welcomed by her son, which would fit properly in a Peruvian tourism-campaign, with his Indian look and long, black hair. The son has his own business on the opposite of the guest-house; he runs a restaurant where twice a week Peruvian traditional bands can be seen live on stage. As grandmother can't do all the work alone she has also help of a young lady, who loves to talk also a lot, but preferable in English as this is the language she is studying now. The guest-house itself is completely made of wood and has large rooms with beds all covered with beautiful Peruvian woolen blankets. The atmosphere is very domestic, which is strengthened by the presence of a friendly dog and a impudent cat. The cat is fond of bread (according to grandmother because it was raised by a baker) and every morning it tries to steal the guests' bread during breakfast.

Because the guest-house is (rightly) recommended highly in my travel-guide (The South-American Handbook published by Footprint), and almost every do-it-yourself-tourist uses this guide, many find the way to this fantastic guest-house: backpackers from Germany, Israel, Canada, Australia and even a cyclist from England. It is very nice to be able to exchange eachothers (cycle-)experiences. Also he had problems with the many dogs who chased him, which in one case even resulted in a large gall on his arm. My anti-dog-buzzer (the so-called dazzer) was something new to him, but I am sure that he will carry one too if we might meet on another occasion. Because of the presence of an Australian girl who likes metal, and carries a CD-player and a stack of compact discs with her in her backpack, I am also able to update a little with the music-scene I am used to be in in The Netherlands. And she is able to listen to the latest album of my favourite (metal-)band VoiVod (I carry their latest album with me during my trip, as well as a live double album of the Nits, my favourite Dutch (non-metal-)band).

Because of the sociable atmosphere in 'La Casa de mi Abuela' I decide to stay two extra nights. Besides the Mantaro-valley has to offer a lot of interesting culture. Especially the Sundaymorning-ride I will remember pleasantly for a long time, as it led me through many small authentic Peruvian mountain-villages with many picturesque scenes like spinning women (with those little wooden spools), playing children (in the brook), sporting youth (local soccer-competition) en speaking people (a sort of public village-meeting), and all these scenes set in a beautiful mountain-landscape with excelent weather. Many of the villages I pass through have their own cultural specialty; one makes hats, another makes silver jewelery, and yet another is specialised in wood-craft. All craftsmenships are brought together on the Sunday-market in Huancayo, which I visit in the afternoon.

Because of my return home just before Christmas I decide to buy some presents for my relatives and friends in The Netherlands. My choice is set on the wood-craft, and I buy several beautifully decorated calabashes, some of them even have a christmas-scene inside of them made out of small wooden figures. In the evening I visit, together with an Israeli guest, Seffie, and three students of Huancayo's University, a concert of a rock-group from Lima. As the concert is of such a miserable quality we decide to go to another place. The three ladies take me and Seffie to a popular, expensive western-style discotheque where a sound-mix-show is going on, and the disco music is interchanged with live-sung Peruvian tear-jerkers. Both are not really my type of music, but the others seem to enjoy at least the disco-music. Anyhow it was much better than the rock group we saw just before!

Before conquering the Ticlio-pass I had in mind to take an alternative route, passing through Huanvelica, cycling on the worlds highest road (over 100 km above 4000 metres), and passing another mountainpass heading towards the coastal pan-american-high-way again. But after the altitude-sickness-experience I decide not to take this route, as altitude-sickness is no fun, and I am not doing this trip to be able to brag on cycling on the highest mountain-pass, covered distance and so on. So on Monday morning I take the same route back as I came, but now I am watching the scenery from behind the window of the bus. Reaching the top it appears a wise decision as it is now snowing, and I remember how cold it was a week before without snow while I was pedalling here! Next to me sits, probably the only English-speaking Peruvian in the bus, and he prefers to speak in English as he has little opportunity to do so here in Peru. He lived several years in Sweden after he fled from the violence of 'Shining Path' in his home-country. Violence that nowadays is past history in Peru, although many traces of the violent periode can still be seen everywhere in Peru: many walls are still covered with political/-revolutionary slogans who leave little mis-interpretation and also many roads are still avoided by bus companies due to the violence that used to appear along and on these roads.

Because of my change (again) in travelplans I have some extra time in Lima, time I spend mostly in the many museums. Especially the stuffed gold-museum is very inpressive. Incredible how large it's collection is, which surprises me even more as I find out that it is a private museum. The collection in the national museum is compared with that from the gold-museum very poor, but the special exhibition on the 'Senor de Sipan' makes this up completely. 'Senor de Sipan' is probably the most important and spectaculair grave discovered after Egypt's Tutan Khamen. The 'Senor de Sipan'-collection is only temporarily housed in the national museum in Lima, and will move to Lambayeque where a special 'Senor de Sipan' museum will be build.

My last days in Lima I stay with two Servas-hosts. My first host-family concerns a retired law-professor who lives together with his wife and handicapped son in San Isidro. They also have a daughter, and she appears to live in the Netherlands! Because of this, and some personal visits to the Netherlands, I am able to tell something different about my home country as I can skip the basics. My second host concerns an elder lady, who I however will not see the first day. At arrival I am welcomed by the lady house-keeper, who provides me a warm meal after first taken a shower. It feels like I am staying in some kind of luxury hotel. The already 60-year (even a record in Peru!) at Deloitte & Touche working accountant stays that night at her daughter's house, but she let me know she will be normaly home the next day. And so I meet as well mother, daughter and granddaughter the next day.

The day before my departure to The Netherlands I spend completely in arranging my flight, and especially the transporation of my bicycle. The send me several times from one corner to another at Lima International Airport when I inform on the possibilities to take my bicycle on a plane, something I expected to be difficult over here, as I had the same problem at Miami Airport whne flying to Aruba. Apparently only at Schiphol Amsterdam Airport taking a bicycle into a plane is easily, probably because The Dutch are so cycle-minded (everybody ever visited The Netherlands will agree with me on that). Via all kinds of roundabouts I finally find out that (in contradiction to earlier statements of the Peruvian airport-staff) KLM (Royal Dutch Airlines, with who I will fly back to The Netherlands) has also at Lima International Airport their special bicycle-boxes in stock to pack and send a bicycle by air. But not all problems are solved yet; it appears that my flight has a delay of twelve hours due to mechanical problems which made the original plane return to Amsterdam after leaving the Dutch capital for less than an hour earlier. So my flight will not leave at 9 o'clock in the evening but at 9 o'clock in the morning. As I call my Servas-host she tells me it is no problem to stay an extra night, but of course most other passengers are not in that luxury position. But KLM has to keep up there high reputation and I must admitt that I am very pleased with their solution as I do not eat and sleep every day in a Sheraton-hotel.

The flight Lima-Amsterdam goes perfectly and on Sunday morning December 13th, exactly 7 months after I left The Netherlands, I am standing on Dutch soil again. It is a strange feeling and thought soon to be back in 'normal' life again, life as I was used too before my departure. When you read this it is already more than two months after my fantastic cycle-journey through North- and South-America, which surely was the trip of a lifetime. I am living in The Hague again now, after staying three weeks at my parents home in Oerle, a small village in the south of The Netherlands close to the Belgian border, and restarted in January my old job as a financial management-assistant at a large agricultural school close to The Hague. Many ask me if it is not difficult to adapt to 'normal' life again, but I do not have any problems at all with going to work again. Maybe it is because cycling every day becomes a rhythm also, just like going to work is a rhythm. Or maybe it is because I desired more to my home-country, family, friends, and last but not least to my music as a realise. Although... sometimes it is itching already... Perry, Oerle, 20 february 1999