To get to „Machu Picchu“ one of the main attractions of Peru, probably the main attraction, the majority travel via Cusco by train to Aguas Calientes and then either hike or go by bus up the hill to the main entrance. There’s also an alternative to that: The so called „back door to Machu Picchu“, which is finally not completely right as it is an alternative to get to Aguas Calientes but not to Machu Picchu. It’s the way to Santa Teresa and then either hike or go by train to the small town at the foot of the hill. I take that way plus a more adventurous way to Santa Teresa than necessary. A long way from Lima with some heavy passages on deep gravel roads on creek crossings without bridges.
The worse the roads get, the better the scenery looks alike with high mountains, deep valleys and great animal herds. To figure out if you took a tourist road is easy: Are there modern petrol stations in regular distance? Are you able to pay by card? Do the cafés offer special gringo menus? Do the locals ignore you when you sit down at one of the street cafés? All responses are “no“: You’re safe…No tourist road.
At one village in which I slept, there was probably an announcement that a gringo is in town. The next morning many people greeted me on the street “Ah! El gringo!“
The majority of the creeks and waterfalls run directly over the surface of the roads and spill parts of the track away over time. The majority of those water covers can be passed quite easily but some are so deep that both cylinders dive under. Sometimes it’s a hassle to get out of the creeks again as the riverbanks are pretty steep. At one of those creeks a truck gets stuck and the truck driver, his companion and me shovel about an hour to get it out…while five locals watch us from their SUV without even offering any support. I’m surprised by this, especially in such a remote area in the mountains…and the locals and the truck team knew each other. Just a bit later I lay down my motorcycle by trying to get out of another deep creek. Two young men come by with their SUV but it takes me a long time to convince them to help me pulling up the motorcycle again. They weren’t interested at all to help me but they realised that not getting the motorcycle out of the way will block them.
Close to Santa Teresa I see a motorcyclist (from Canada) who stood at the roadside with his motorcycle on the centerstand and some tools on the ground. Finally it was a standard stop as he just wanted to maintain his chain but he saw that something was missing at my equipment: My GoPro! Although the chances were pretty low to find this small device on the 24 km (15 miles) dirt road I immediately turned around … and I found it!
The train station at Santa Teresa isn’t really in Santa Teresa but about 8 km (5 miles) outside of this mountain town, called Hidroelectrica, which just describes the location of the station: Close to the hydroelectric power station. The train on its own runs with Diesel.
Aguas Calientes is a pretty, small mountain city in the hands of tourists but without nearly any road traffic: The only ways to and from this city are either by train (Cusco, Santa Teresa) or by foot. Within the city there are only buses which take the tourists up to Machu Picchu and pedestrians. All goods are transported by hand truck within the town, which is not too easy with all its up and downs.
The next morning I get up before the sun rises to catch the first bus and enjoy one of the seven wonders of the world on my own. It’s only me who has this extraordinary idea…and hundreds of other tourists. Great. But thanks to dense fog, the area is so shrouded that you don’t see the tourists even next to you! Amazing…and also not the whole city…super amazing. After two hours the sun comes through and the masses run to the standard points to make their standard memory picture. Lucky me I was standing there already and can leave with the Lamas who were also interested in the lookout, when the masses arrive there.
The way back to Santa Teresa I decide to hike as it’s an easy way without any elevation. At Lake Titicaca I want to see the artificial, floating islands on the Peruvian side and Isla del Sol on the Bolivian side. The connection includes a bit scary trip with an old ferry made of wood. Unfortunately the video footage doesn’t really show too much as it was during the night.
My way to Salar de Uyuni, the big salt desert, is less the touristic way than a bit more adventurous, although I didn’t plan it like that. I’m interested in the volcano Tunupa, which is located in the north of Salar de Uyuni … and in the middle of a pre-salt-desert … what nearly no one mentions. Why pre-salt-desert? Because a real salt-desert is full of salt and usually with solid ground. At the desert before there’s only a few salt and a lot of slippery, sticky mud. I realise that when my rear wheel gets sidetracked several times. As soon as I stop and get of the motorcycle to check if something is wrong with the tyre, I slip on this strange surface.
As I’m not interested in getting lost in a desert, I decide to turn around and chose the touristic and safe way. Lucky me again that I find another track to Jirira, which is a bit more solid and dry. I arrive a bit late there but early enough to catch the sunset from the big salt desert. The night I sleep at a family’s house, who also give me something for dinner. What a nice memory sitting in the simple kitchen with three children and eating together and watching them play.
The next morning I start early into the desert to drive the whole way to Uyuni. I’m surprised that I don’t see anyone (and you can see from horizon to horizon in all four directions) until I reach “Playa Blanca Salt Hotel“.
At this former hotel, I meet many people…well, tourists, who look for the flag of their home country and take a picture with it. What tourists can do, should the Beast also being able to…so: What flag do you chose? “Any! My home is the world“ Nice answer, Beast. So, you get a memory picture with all the flags.
It’s probably the first time that I figure out that the touristic way is more sophisticated than the non-touristic way. At the touristic entrance to the salt desert, which is my exit, is so much water, that you have to plan your way out accordingly. I watch all the SUVs how they pass this small lake when I see a local guide waving me. He gives me signs that I shouldn’t go where the SUVs go but better take another way. So far I didn’t listen too much on the restrictions by locals (yeah, I’m bad), so maybe it’s time for some improvements. Although I don’t like the way he shows me, I follow it and get immediately stuck in deep soft mud. The local guide comes by, laughs and disappears. Wow. Lucky him that I’m busy with holding my motorcycle. Whatsoever. A few minutes later another SUV comes by with a local guide and an english couple and they pull me out within a short time. Easy. Before I’m able to ask for their names they’re already gone. At least I have a picture of two of the three: Thank you again for your support!
As a motorcycle isn’t a real dish, salt isn’t considered to be on such. Better clean it before the salt remains on it. I use a short fuelling stop at Uyuni to ask at a nearby building lot to use their hose for cleaning the Beast. While there are many people at Uyuni because of the Salar, on my way to Chile I’m nearly alone again. Not really completely: It’s me, the Beast and the mountains. At least. At the border control it’s the first time I have to open all my luggage on this trip but the officer just glimpsed in all bags for a few seconds. When I cross the border I get surprised that there’s no gas station in the town close by. The next one is 200 km (120 miles) away…which might get difficult with a remaining range of 120 km (75 miles) including my two canisters. Time to learn something new: In remote areas, the community and/or restaurants sell gas…that’s good! …for the double of the standard price…not so good, but that’s the rule of the market. At least I’m able to get to the next big town…again through a wonderland of mountains…completely alone.
New country, new currency. As I learned in Peru and Bolivia that a credit card in daily life is not accepted, you have to have cash. I get cash at the next ATM, but it keeps my credit card. Not too good, when you have four weeks remaining for such a trip. The service center isn’t really helpful and just suggests that I should stay in the town for the next days until someone comes and open the ATM. I suggest that they should mail it to a branch in Santiago. Although they accept this, until now I didn’t receive my cc yet.
On my way to Santiago I meet again Dave, a motorcyclist on a BMW F800GS from Vancouver, BC on his way also to Ushuaia, who I first met in Panama City. The next one and a half days we ride together. Quite nice to have someone to chat with in the coffee breaks. While I’m heading to Santiago, he wants to breath sea air before the way leads over the Andes. Always safe travels! I’m pretty sure we meet again on our way to Tierra del Fuego!
Santiago surprises me. In comparison to other big cities in South America the traffic isn’t as chaotic and the air isn’t as polluted. Overall it reminds more to a european city than what I saw so far in South America: A lot of museums, many bicyclists on bicycle roads, many green and clean parks where a lot of people walk or … dance… well, that’s not too european either. Everywhere you can find small groups of youths who get together and study special choreographies on modern songs. Nice to watch but nothing I will participate. Altogether Santiago seems to be a city to stay longer.
