We are back...

Just to confirm that Rich and Chris are now back safely in the UK. We rolled into Bristol at midnight last night, concluding a mesmerising trip.

Thanks must go once again to everyone who donated, sponsored, encouraged and supported us.

Kee your eyes on the website, there will be loads more narrative, photos and video added over the coming weeks, fleshing out the existing bullet points so that the site reflects blow-by-blow the adventures and challenges of the trip. Look out also for the story of days 12,13 and 14 - which we used to extend the route and take in yet more stunning parts of Peru.

Days 12-14: Piura>Desert>Beach>Piura

It still baffles us to think how we ever managed to get from Cuzco to Piura in just 11 days; but in doing so a new set of possibilities emerged. We had 3 days to spare.

The first priorities were to drink and celebrate, get our clothes washed, sleep - which was the prime focus for day 12.

But as day 13 dawned we realised there was something missing from the trip. Though we had driven a massive distance, and over the most inhospitable terrain, we had not really reached a true endpoint.  Sure, Piura is in the very North of the country, but what we needed was a clear physical endpoint, namely the Pacific Ocean!

And so off we set, across the Sechura Desert which was pretty barren and smelt of fish in many parts, to the small beach town of Colan. Here we literally reached the end of the earth, taking our beloved mototaxi as far as was physically possible before having to turn around.

We spent a relaxing evening by the sea, playing 31s (a card game taught to us by Aussies Doug and Dave) before completing the final, final, final leg of the journey back to Piura, an 50km blast down the treacherous Pan-American highway (from which mototaxis are clearly banned...but hey, "law schmaw").

Day 11 Bagua Grande to Piura (the finish)

We made it! We have just driven the length and width of Peru, through rainy season, over the Andes and through the Amazon jungle, in a mototaxi, in just 11 days. Our 3000km trip was exhilarating, scary, eye-oping, varied, exciting and just brilliant fun.

 We had planned to travel 260km on day 11, stopping just short of the Sechura desert ready for an easy 12th day ride into Piura, but circumstances and adreneline got the better of us.

Having cleared the Andes for the final time (one of the most terrifying passes yet, with 10m visibility and buses/trucks rearing out of the gloom on all sides of the road) we then descended rapidly, seeing us in the desert just 45 mninutes after having been cold atop a rainy Amazon mountain. The contrast is like nowhere else we´ve been.

Once in the desert, we discovered that there were virtually no places to stay, and having seen a roadsign for "Piura 134km" there was no way we were going to stop.

In a tight group of 3 we convoyed towards the final destination, with a hail of massive bugs spattering us as they headed for our headlights.

We rolled into Piura at around 10pm local time, delighted at having made it.

And so it was done!

Day 10 Moyobamba to Bagua Grande

We expected the day to be a bit boring as the end of the previous day had seen us travelling on relatively unexciting flat tarmac roads with no potholes, no threat of bandits and no ridiculous cliffs to contend with.

However we were pleasantly surprised by an unbelievable blast through the region of Amazona. Having thought we were clear of jungle, we were treated to the most stunning day of jungle driving imaginable, only combined with mountains too, to give brilliant views for miles.

More jungle, more winding roads, more stunning scenery. Chris discovered that our fuel shut off switch was leaking (thus achieving the exact opposite of its intended shut off function) - a stark reminder that this challenge was in no way done. Indeed some of the gang started discussing possible diversions we could take, since it looked like we were ahead of schedule. My own sentiment was very much "let's not take this for granted". I was eager for us to press on towards the finish, since we had no idea what drama's may lay around the corner.

We drove steadily throughout the day, savouring the stunning views. We even fixed our gear cable that had loosened to the point where changing gears basically required us to stamp with full body weight onto the pedal for every change. With it fixed, we could glide thorugh the gears like, well, in a proper vehicle!

This evening we have had a good meal and a couple of Cristal Beers (Peru's best) ready for another early start tomorrow....

Day 9 Campanilla to Moyobamba

The main mission for our day was to get out of the danger zone! To help achieve this, we had another early morning start.

100km or so of bad road was the enemy, and we'd not even made it out of Campanilla village limits before a river crossing saw us whomp our chain right off, douse the electrics, and bugger up the clutch.

But we plugged away and gradually the roads the improved and we got ourselves to relative safety, the town of Juanji.

News was filtering through of another incident involving fellow competitors, but this time with non-fatal consequences, so we breathed a sigh of relief before pressing on to Tarapoto for our lunch.

Here we sampled the odd delecacy of a normal lunch accompanied by a giant peanut-butter/chickpea; the single most filling accompanyment of any I have ever tasted. 

Day 8 Tingo Maria to Campanilla

An absolutely crazy day. We began in deflated and confused spirits, following the tragic death of a fellow competitor. This only heightened our own sense of danger as we entered the most dangerous section of our journey, the "narcotics trail" through the Amazon.

All advice told us to drive only in the light, and the clear the full distance from Tingo Maria to Juanji in order to get out of the danger zone before nightfall.

Consequently we were up before dawn again, and on the road by 5am in a complete torrent of rain. Our eagerness to make progress was immediately scuppered by breakdowns. Nick's mototaxi developed electrical problems which took over 1 hr to get fixed. The mood was pretty tense and this delay only added to already high anxiety and we knew by noon that we'd unlikely make it through the danger zone.

A mixed message from a heavily armoured police checkpoint seemed to tell us that we would inevitably be robbed regardless of time of day or night. The implication was that the next 150km of road was unpoliced and that the checkpoint was more to stop bad things getting out of the danger zone than anything else. We cheekily asked for an escort through the danger territory, which the police declined to give, instead ushering us onwards in a "if you really want to drive that way, fill yer boots chaps" kind of way.

Foot-to-the-floor we pressed on. The smiles and waves we'd enjoyed previously were no longer there, and  soon enough the road was blocked by a group of silver-toothed folk wielding pump-action shotguns. I think we all had the same sinking feeling of "here we go, this is it" and feared the worst.

Remarkably though, we ended up befriending the "banderos", gave them a couple of bucks to thank them for 'protecting the area' and enjoyed good spirited conversation with them and even took photos.

After that we felt more at ease, though still wary and began to enjoy the spectacular jungle. The driving was tough, with corrugated bumpy stone roads and quite a lot of climbing. The mototaxis were taking a beating, but our main concern was making progress.

Late in the day our Aussie buddies struck problems, rupturing their oil sump and we had to call it a day early, crossing a huger river before seeking refuge and getting mechanical help in a small (recently guerilla occupied) town. It turned out to be brilliant.

The small garage became a makeshift bar and we enjoyed a few beers beforew taking the mechanic, his wife, child and mate out for dinner, before playing table football until late!

What a day.

Day 7 Junin to Tingo Maria

What a great day. We had a 4am start to try to cover some good ground and began the day by driving over the highest pass yet, nearly 4700m (>15,000ft).

We'd made it only a few miles before being stopped by the police, who tried to suggest we were mad driving on this road. They particularly objected to us doing it at night. Luckily, dawn was approaching sand as the 'discussion' continued, it got lighter and lighter, ultimately invalidating their objections. We declared "it is daytime" before they reluctantly let us press on, climbing to the snowy summit of the pass.

In fairness, these police, as with most of the others, were concerned first and foremost for our safety. Our mototaxis are slow, not very visible and are dwarfed next to the other traffic on the road.

Having crossed the summit, we then commenced an almighty 4km altitude drop from that freezing peak, all the way via Huanuco and ultimately into the Amazon basin to Tingo Maria, where I am now.

Chris is busy cajoling mechanics to help fix our wobbly and buckled wheels, ready for another onslaught tomorrow...whilst I take care of the communications (its good that we understand each others' strengths!)

* Footnote. It was on the evening of 7 Jan that we learned of hte tragic death of Peter Buckley, a fellow competitor. He died on a stretch of road we had ourselves driven during the previous 48hours. We were shocked, saddened and stunned by the news, whilst (confusingly) feeling that it was inevitable that something like this would happen, given the perilous nature of the journey. Our thoughts go out to Peter's family and friends. He died in the name of charity and adventure, doing something brilliant; and he will always be remembered.

Day 6 Huancayo to Junin

Day 6 started slowly. as planned we used Huancayo (big town) as a place to restock on spares and sort out problems with the mototaxis. Jon and Meg had their buckled wheel replaced, and Chris and I used the opportunity to buy a new chain, spokes, oil and some decent goggles to make driving at night in the rain a bit less unpleasant.

I used the opportunity to update the website with some narrative and pictures; something that seems a real time-drain when on the trip itself, but is invaluable for the friends and family following proceedings back home.

Our group grew as Dougie and Dave (Aussie lads) and Nick (from the UK) had caught us up the previous evening and in the morning, and so we headed out of Huancayo on good roads. the dynamic of a 4 mototaxi convoy was a bit different with 4 in the group and took some time to get used to. Basically it results in far too many stops if everyone pulls over every time anyone needs a wee, pops a chain, wants to take a photo etc...so we took a few hours to reach the right understanding.

The afternoon saw us flying over yet more high passes, climbing and climbing before a painful crescendo at Junin.

By the evening I was sat typing web updates on a keyboard without lettered keys (a Peruvian favourite), in Junin, after a ridiculous drive through freezing torrential rain along a pass at over 3400 metres.

We made good progress again today, despite losing a lot of time with fuel problems; spluttering and generally being wildly underpowered.

We had our first run in with the police (all other encounters have been very jovial). Tonight we were told that mototaxis were banned from the road we were on, which may be a theme that continues to haunt us...

Day 5 Mayocc to Huancayo

The day of the breakdowns. Our convoy had already been reduced from 3 to 2 mototaxis, and today everything seemed to break.

The chains came off or snapped 4 times, we suffered ignition problems, both our spare fuel cans fell off, one breaking (resulting in a comedic chuckle-brothers type scene where we all had our fingers plugging the leaks as we tried to direct the spurting fuel towards our fuel tanks). Our wheel jammed (making climbing hills impossible). Our speedo control until came off, an exhaust snapped and we lost 18 of 32 spokes on our wheel, because of the bumpy roads.

After a gruelling morning of drive, break, repair, drive, break repair, we hobbled into the town of La Esmerelda where we pretty much took the place over, handed out gifts, got our vehicles repaired, ate, stocked up on drinks before heading on our way.

Honestly it was the most unbelievable day of carnage. Which only got worse when Jon&Meg found themselves leaving the road and trying to drive down a sewer.

We towed them to a town, where their now ovular wheel was bent back into shape - before we blasted through the darkness to Huancayo - where we are now. We've bought some new bits for the vehicles, had a latte (!) and are now off northwards.

Finally we pressed on, again through the night, reaching our desired destination (Huancayo) for the evening. The plan had been to have a good rest and get a full service at Huancayo - though having spent much of the day doing repairs already, this seemed like a bit of a repetetive idea.

Day 4 Chincheros to Mayocc

The day began with disappointment. Our friends Ed and Stu, having spent the majority of the day previous fixing their mototaxi, suffered another breakdown first thing. They were very honourable about it and urged us to continue rather than lose any more time waiting with them. So we bid them a farewell and continued off in a small convoy of two - myself (Rich) & Chris, with Jon & Meg.

From that early disappointment the day really picked up quickly, delivering our first dose of "roads of death". These were jaw dropping and stomach lurching; stunning mountainside tracks with drops of thousands and thousands of feet just inches away. It is an experience unparallelled, and a landscape that is so immmense.

We drove the roads very carefully indeed - especially since you become accustomed to it after the first couple of hours.  They are absolutely mindblowing though.

The early evening saw us having a great encounter with mountain police. We shared a joke and gave out some Villa souvenirs. Chris even managed to convince on of the policemen to give him his cap - which he sported proudly for days afterwards.

After good progress during the day, we hit the worst road imaginable, in torrential rain. Pot holes everywhere and very very slow indeed. This resulted in a late night scramble towards civilisation, with us slippign and sliding around in the mud for the last 30km or so as we sought food and shelter for the night. With Jon flagging in the other mototaxi, I hopped on and drove the last section, with a very nervous Meg as my passenger. It is amazing how trust is so critical on these trips. Meg knew I was being careful, but felt nowhere near as easy as she would with Jon doing the driving. The sense of responsibility was great - and I was very pleased to deliver her to Mayocc in one piece.

Day 3 Andahualas to Chincheros

We spent the morning getting our mototaxi serviced, and waiting for our buddies Ed and Stu to have their engines rebuilt, so progress was really slow and we didn't get moving until nearly 3pm.

Within minutes of  exiting Andahualas we got our first dose of proper wet season requiring us to throw on the waterproofs and tape up the fuel tanks to prevent water getting in.

The rain was making the slopes unstable, only adding to our sense of hurry: "get past this mountina before it crumbles!".

Predictably the evening ended with us eating a chicken-based meal; and we were lucky enough to secure a decent sized room at a hotel in Chincheros, making the process of unloading bags a lot easier.

Day 2 Limatambo to Andahualas

Day 2 saw us up at 7am ready to make progress. I made a malaria tablet error; taking the tablet before having eaten. A one time mistake which resulted in a rapid sequence as follows:

1) take tablet
2) five minutes later feel nauseous, and inform my buddies
3) find nearest bush and vomit profusely.

We made a good start to Abancay where we picked up more cash (for petrol and food), enjoyed a chicken lunch. In the afternoon we climbed an enormous mountain pass, which was both spectacular and frustrating. 3 hours (of non-stop driving) after leaving Abancay, we could just look down into the valley and see it - prob ably less than 10km away asa the cros flies...testament to the amazong winding roads and steep climb we had been doing. We'd probably driven 50km, but the actual distance travelled on a map was negligible.

 Then, as night fell, atop the mountain, a fatal breakdown for our convoy buddies, resulting in us freewheeling their vehicle down from the highest point of a pass where it broke, fully 35km (I'm not exagerating) down into the town, in the pitch black, on terrifying mountain passes, it was a thrilling experience whilst at the same time probably being the most dangerous thing we've ever done.

Day 1 Cuzco to Limatambo

Our start was delayed by mechanical chaos, a long wait for the police escort, and then the realisation that helmets are legally required.

Having spent the previous two days battling to get our steed ready for the trip, it seemed the rear wheel had seized overnight, stoppping it rotating. Even I, as a novice mechanic, know that no wheel rotation = no movement (unless we carry). So more last gasp repairs were done; and the trip seemed ever more daunting, with exiting the compund seeming like a major goal, let alone traversing the entire country.

But, at 3pm we got away, ensuring that we'd be night driving from day one! After a ludicrous exit through the hills of Cuzco, including smoking engine, stalls, pushing up inclines, and much hilarity, we finally got clear of the city limits, in searing heat.

We blasted across good roads, already plunged in darkness (immmediately clarifying that we would indeed be night-driving, contrary to all advice, from the off) and progressed to the town of Limatambo, where we found the first of an infinite stream of Pollerias (chickeneries) had beer, chicken and a sleep. Four of us crammed into a twin room, guaranteeing an early bout of sleeping on the floor.