Published: 25.10.2017
23.10.
I wake up in the breakfast hall with TV accompaniment. The clouds hang low outside. How will the weather develop today?
I'm hungry and ask for fried eggs, bread, and coffee. It's simply cold. The television, hanging on the wall, is set to volume 12 again. There's no other breakfast guest here, so I ask yesterday's cook to reduce the volume. I can understand that he and his wife, who is working in the kitchen - where the health department official Jan Fedder would have his true joy - want some noise, but I can't handle it early in the morning.
the students for the assembly
Everything looks very dreary. I look out the window while the eggs are frying and gaze at a schoolyard. That's what it looks like. The school itself is not so old, but completely run down. The windows are partly incomplete, the once green plaster has faded. I don't think there's any heating in the classrooms. I take a few photos.
There's also a hospital that lives up to its name. A house that looks more like an ambulance, but doesn't have any wards. The ambulance is parked under one roof.
there seems to be little urgent use...
Breakfast is ready. The coffee is hot, I'm slowly getting warm. The cook is about to leave. I remind him that we have to get rid of the wasps from the lobby together. Said and done. She's quickly back outside, but not yet on the road. There's still the narrow concrete path that runs along the house. On the right is the gutter, on the left is the wall. I slowly balance myself with the wasp towards the road. Done and not tipped over. The cook is already gone.
I pack up calmly. An old man joins me and a little later hesitantly asks for 5 soles. That's how much my breakfast cost.
He
It's getting brighter, my hope rises that it will still be nice. I'm on my way. Half past 10:00. The bumpy road will accompany me for the next 50 km. It's even worse in the villages. The luggage rack has already passed its probationary period yesterday. After an hour, I'm stopped by a road worker. It won't continue here for another hour. A big machine is going to flatten the road. The waiting queue is getting longer. Suddenly a family appears and offers Peruvian breakfast. Rice, chicken, potatoes, a hot soup. It's drizzling quietly. The motorcyclists don't wear leather suits, but rubber ponchos and rubber boots, or plastic bags wrapped around their shoes.
Just before 11, we continue. The formerly dry gravel road is now wet and slippery. It's not weather for taking photos. The fog hangs in the valley, everything looks dreary, tufts of grass, sheep, occasionally campesinos driving their animals forward. The villages look very poor. The adobe houses, which are inevitably built on the slopes, are slowly starting to divide towards the valley. The ground they stand on simply sinks.
full of hardship
There is no foundation. Boulders are used as a base, but they are usually not sufficient. A man sits in front of such a slowly dividing adobe house and greets me contentedly.
The descent is just exhausting. There are several meters of altitude to overcome down to the valley. The road doesn't get better, when an asphalt section comes, one pothole replaces the other. Some of them are as deep as yogurt cups. But it's getting brighter and after a turn I see blue sky behind a mountain range. That's my direction. After about 2 hours I'm in the valley, cross the river that has been accompanying us all the time, and arrive in a village.
The sun is out, it's finally warm - almost hot. So warm that I take off the thermal layer I have under my motorcycle jacket. I stop right in front of a shop and stock up on water and nuts. Rest for a bit and then continue. Of course, the wasp is a crowd-puller. And again and again big eyes when I tell them that I started in Santiago de Chile.
The next bigger city is Huanuco. I have arrived in civilization again. No one who lives here would believe the winter cold from this morning. It's midsummer here. Shorts and t-shirts dominate the street scene. Finally, the 3N is to be taken seriously again. Asphalt and well-built. It also leads to Lima and has to cope with a lot of traffic. After I'm outside Huanuco again, it continues very quickly southwest. Yes - southwest, because the 3N initially orientates towards Lima. I will then later - maybe tomorrow - get the turnoff to the east.
We leave the valley behind us and go uphill again. The wasp is still set at 4,000 m and doesn't show any signs of weakness. I overtake the trucks and want to reach Junin, which is 150 km away, today. But then there's another roadblock for a quarter of an hour and the jet change is due again. And when we're back at 4,000 m. we go through the procedure again. It takes time. And we continue uphill, the landscape is barren again. The wind picks up and shoots with gusts around the curves. In the east, it's turning again. I experience a similar scenario as two days ago. First rain, then snow, which doesn't stick to the road. It's getting cold. There's no downhill that I hoped for into the warmer and snow-free valley. We stay on the high plateau of the Central Andes. The sleet is increasing and it's getting darker due to the weather. My GPS tells me that it's still 37 minutes away. I won't make it. The trucks pass me, splashing me from head to toe, the wasp loses power. I look out for a restaurant where I can put on the thermal layer. And today, as if sent from heaven, a light appears in front of me, which turns out to be a rest area. That's my salvation. When I go inside, I notice out of the corner of my eye that there's also a hotel there. Decision made: end of the day.
First of all, I order hot tea. And it's not just one cup. I slowly warm up again. Today there's rice, potatoes, a double portion of salad, and fried trout. After that, a few cookies and hot tea.
The wasp is safely locked in the courtyard. Above it are slaughtered piglets hanging to dry - I suspect. They're too big for guinea pigs.
My room is very spacious, has a wooden floor, and a bed. A naked light bulb is screwed into its socket, there's a window facing the 3N, where the traffic passes moderately.
It's raining.
There are no towels, yes to wifi, but the key is not known.
None of that matters to me.
The restaurant is mostly frequented by truck drivers who take a break and have dinner with their gas tankers.
I keep getting up and closing the entrance door. Quite a strange gringo...
By now I'm also greeted by passing truck drivers with hello gringo. Hello in English...
Tomorrow I have to drive for 4 hours including a break to get to Huancayo. There's a cathedral and probably also a plaza with one or more hotels - real hotels!