30.10.: Huarpa - 3,050 m -

30.10.

brilliant blue sky, the mountains sharp in the backlight.

I wait a little longer until the family has sorted themselves out and get up half an hour later. Stephania, bu bu's mother, is already there. She comes every day and takes him to work. She washes the dishes outside at the sink. She greets me with a hint of a hug, South American style.

Carlos brushes his teeth at the other half of the sink, later veronika comes in work attire, white blouse, dark pants, matching shoes and jacket, and quickly washes her hair at the sink.

Angel, the aspiring agricultural engineer and veterinary doctor in his sports clothes - he has finished washing

Carlito: he still can't tie his shoes properly. He gladly accepts my help.
Earlier, stephania refreshed the pink shoes. But for whom? There are only sons here...
The kittens are expanding their range of activities

The children slowly come downstairs in their school uniforms, someone has put the cat's house in the morning sun, everything seems very peaceful, although like everywhere in the world, the pressure of everyday duties weighs on everyone.

Veronika shakes out her hair, second oldest motocross rider on the right, angel in the middle

Carlos takes care of breakfast. Fried eggs, rice and tuna. And nescafe. I play with the cats outside, take more photos, and stay out of the morning routine.

Carlos makes sure that the kids say goodbye to me with a handshake and don't just leave. I take a few more photos of the morning activity, then the kids and veronika are gone.

Once everyone is gone, there is a second breakfast for Carlos, Stephania, bu bu, and me. Carlos actually wants to leave the house at half past eight. But the exchange of phone numbers to send the pictures is more important to him. It takes time and patience, but after fifteen minutes, I receive an app from Stephania. That way, I can send her the photos when I have wifi again.

Stephania thinks I am too fast. She is not happy with her hair. Carlos is keeping an eye on his children

after breakfast with noodles and tuna

Stephania and bu bu are taken to the city on the Honda, where she works and bu bu is allowed to come along. I want to say goodbye to Carlos at the plaza de armas. But in the meantime, he has decided to take the day off and accompany me for a bit. We arrange to meet at his workshop.

When I arrive at Caesar's hotel, he greets me with a laugh and relief, waving a belt. Where have I been, he was worried, was about to call the police.
I didn't have his phone number, and I already thought last night that he would be surprised to see that my room key - key with padlock - was still in its place.

Before I am allowed to leave, we take some more photos. Then he shows me his vestments. Today is church day, he is wearing a white shirt, a tie, and in his room with a desk and bed, he proudly displays the vestments in front of me.

In the patio, an old lady dozes in a wheelchair, who seems to live here and is pushed and served orange juice by the fellow residents. Her son was here yesterday and also took care of her. She is brown-skinned, wearing glasses with a white frame that contrasts perfectly with her brown complexion. Even today, at an estimated age of 80, one can see that she must have been a Peruvian beauty in her younger days.

A beautiful community. And the center is Caesar. The large door wings to the street and the plaza are wide open, and people keep coming in and telling new stories. Growing old can be fun too. And when such a gringo comes along, with whom they also have fun, even better.

I pick up Carlos from his workshop. He quickly does some welding without (!) eye protection on his Honda, quickly refuels, fills the air with the special measuring device, buys water, and then we're off.
He hasn't really mentioned the condition of our road so far. I think we'll continue driving on the right on the paved road, but no, he turns left and we go up a steep red dirt road. Many tight curves, gravel, ruts - the whole package. Scenic, of course, very impressive. We climb from 3,200 meters to 4,200 meters and, right on cue, the Vespa hesitates and wants a different jet. The coolant hose is tight and causes no problems.
When we reach the top, we take photos.

selfie photo with the observing facial expressions: will it work?

In the background, the jagged peaks of the high Andes. Then we go down a long descent into the valley. Along the way, he shows me a gray path that runs alongside a river. That's the road to Ayacucho. Asphalted!!! It will take another half an hour until we get there, and promptly, the Vespa warns me because with too small a jet, it doesn't get enough fuel in the current air conditions. I generously give her a 90 jet. In the next village, we strengthen ourselves with cola and chocolate. He drives back to Pampas, and I continue on my way to Ayacucho. Later, he proudly calls me and says it took him 40 minutes instead of two hours on the way there.

But the asphalt is not in great shape. The road is very narrow and winding, sand in the curves, ruts, potholes, and gravel in the straight sections, "only" potholes scattered all over the road. It is very hot and the driving is very exhausting. 95 km to Ayacucho. Four-hour travel time. When I compare travel time and kilometers, I know what to expect. The road gets narrower and it is recommended to honk long and persistently before each curve.

two days before I drive this stretch, a coach bus crashed. Many deaths - including students from Karlsruhe - and two still missing.
The press writes that the bus driver was going too fast and couldn't avoid a truck.
The mega-trucks have to drive far to the left in the curves with their long trailers so that the trailer doesn't scrape against the rocks.
The bus didn't stand a chance.

lifeless rock and powerful nature
there are places to pull over when trucks and cars or buses meet. as a scooter rider, I also have to squeeze to the side when a truck comes around the corner.

Later, I follow a bus that drives at a good pace and dusts me from top to bottom. Doesn't matter. I need him as a shield to avoid being at the mercy of the trucks.
Under these conditions, I still don't make it to Huanta, but I call it a day in Huarpa at half past five.
There are two hotels, one has a garage (parking space for the Vespa).
The trip was very nice in terms of the landscape. The Rio Mantaro, which accompanied me again, provides the valley with spring green and avenues.

broken from the ride: I sit on a bench with a cola and observe the village activity. On the right, my favorite: watch out for speed bumps!

After my arrival in the village - it's a nice and warm evening - I sit on a bench with a cola and cigarette, just like everyone else does when they finish work here, I relax from the ride and observe the activity on the street. I chat with a woman sitting not far from me, who also runs a restaurant but doesn't offer breakfast.

I hear from Rolf that "my 3S" has some orange spots on his map. That doesn't bode well.

We want to meet again in Cusco, but they don't have much time. Let's see how it goes tomorrow.