22.10. Jacas Chica -3,800 m -

22.10.

the hustle and bustle in the plaza wakes me up this morning at three o'clock. Intoxicated Peruvians are celebrating the weekend. Later, a pick-up truck with a diesel engine joins in and runs idly for half an hour. I write some apps and eventually fall back asleep.

nighttime activity in the plaza

At seven o'clock, I am wide awake and surf the internet for an answer to the question of whether a weld seam can be undone. The forums give conflicting statements. So, I rely on South American improvisation talent.

Today is Sunday - I wonder if any workshop is even open. And then, to my horror, I find out that today is census day. I remember in Chile there was nothing to eat the whole day... and that was a workday. The Peruvians are more cost-conscious and visit people on Sundays.

Today, I also want to leave early. The rain yesterday lasted a long time but eventually stopped overnight. It is still cloudy. I have breakfast in this hotel, whose restaurant also has a hall-like character and is cold. Cafe con leche and three rolls topped with fried eggs. A good foundation for the day.

I go outside to the plaza for a short while, take some photos, and then I can't get back into my hotel. The door is closed. No bell in sight. Hm - what do I do now? Knock. But then I see my breakfast server coming out of the gate with her handbag, behind which my Vespa is parked. That was close. What would have happened if...? Breakfast is also not paid yet.

I am ready to go at half past nine. The Vespa wobbles, I adjust the wire tension that holds the handlebar in place. It gets slightly better. La Union - the next place - is supposed to have a workshop, as the hotel receptionist told me yesterday.

I arrive in a village - the sun is shining. It's very warm again. At the entrance, I see the sign for La Union and wonder why the navigation system still says 27 minutes or kilometers. I follow the instructions on the display and find myself on a road that doesn't look promising at the end. I hear a loud voice calling. It's directed at me. Where am I headed? I say, whatever my GPS is telling me. No - this is La Union. I ask if it's just the region or already the actual place? The actual place.

Then I see that there is also a workshop there. And it's open. Mechanics are working under a car hood.

I take the opportunity to get the attention of the mechanics. I ask if they can undo a weld seam. Claro! Okay. That sounds good. I unload the luggage rack and have many spectators. A short time later, it is clamped in the vice. The mechanic first tries grinding, but then uses a flame. However, the flame not only undoes the weld seam but also damages the bolt that I need! If it breaks, the luggage rack is done for. I point that out. But it's already too late. The bolt is pulled out of its guide and worked on. Welded at the spot where the substance is damaged and processed until it is functional again.

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the weld seam is undone, the bolt is damaged in its substance and is brought back into shape with the help of the welding machine

welding: the mechanic welds WITHOUT protection. his eyes are exposed to the biting flame. I wonder how long he will continue doing that?

The mood is good here too. There are now 5 to 8 men standing around, giving good advice and mostly just getting in the way. I remember Wilfried's workshop.
Es is about German football and of course about Schweinsteiger and Pizarro. Bremen is also mentioned, and I can tell them where I live in Germany. It's Sunday, maybe cold and boring at home, so a workshop is a great change of pace. And when a gringo arrives on his Vespa...

by the way, the workshop is called El Gringo!

At 12:00 o'clock, I am back on the Vespa. At the gas station, the lady gives me a red cloth as a gift. Unfortunately, I don't know what it's for. But I will need it.

I drive to La Union for a while along a river and then up into the mountains on a flattened gravel road. The 3N proves itself to be a bad road again. Endless bumps. Hairpin turns, narrow spots, sinkholes towards the valley. But the weather is dry and I make progress. Whether it's due to fuel or altitude - the Vespa needs attention and jet changes. One would think that the coolant issue is settled for the next few weeks. But no. In essence, it's fortunate that the Vespa stuttered and hesitated, otherwise the temperature gauge wouldn't have alerted me to the coolant leakage.
When I park, I notice the small puddle forming underneath it. I check and see the leak in the engine compartment, and in that moment, a fountain shoots out of the hose in a high arc. Boiling hot. I jump to the right and barely avoid getting soaked. Due to the stuttering on the bumpy road and the constant jet changes, the clamp ring loosened slightly. Not so bad. I am well equipped and the damage is quickly fixed, and the coolant is topped up. After the jet change, I continue, but 500 meters higher, it starts stuttering again. I've reached 4,000 meters in altitude. It simply shuts off. It is already 5:00 p.m. I am on an open stretch without a parking bay, so I get to work again. Fog is rolling in, it's getting dark in the east again. I finish just before half past five. From now on, it will get dark quickly. And I don't have a place to sleep yet. No village in sight. Hm. Not a good starting point. But then, after a curve, a small roadside village appears and I ask a campesino for a room. I would have settled for a stable again. But he sends me to the next village. There is a hotel there. Is that true? Or does he just want to get rid of me and not be put in the awkward position of accommodating me and his family?
I hope and continue driving. It goes downhill, and I move away from the fog. After 10 minutes, I arrive in a village and ask immediately for a hotel. A finger points to the left and there it is. That was close!
I am still looking for a parking space when a girl looks out of the door and asks me what I'm looking for. Yes, they have multi-bed rooms and a cochera - parking space - is available over there. All good!!! The parking space is more like a pile of rocks and accessible to everyone. No - I can park up there instead.
Okay, hope dies last. Here is a paved parking lot. Hm - without surveillance? I was about to accept my fate when the hotel owner says I can keep the Vespa in the "lobby." Very reassuring! But the path there is not meant for Vespas, nor for wheelchair users. I unload everything to have more freedom of movement and struggle towards the entrance. But then I can't go any further. There is a big step. I ask for a beam, for stones, but the angle is too narrow to even get into the building. No chance.
The hotel manager drives away, waves reassuringly at me, and a short time later, help arrives. It is the cook from the local restaurant, using his skillful hand to grip the Vespa's front wheel. Together, we manage to lift it.

He asks me about work in Germany. He is an agricultural engineer and cooks here. I give him the tip to search for a Peruvian club in Germany on Google and get information there. His wife, who is also standing there, wants to leave Peru as well. Both young people who don't see a future here.

Now I'm sitting here in a big hall. Tables with overturned chairs. There was rice, potatoes, and chicken. Above me on the TV, a Disney movie is playing at maximum volume. Next door, the census takers have to evaluate the results of the local region. A tough job. It is now 10:00 p.m.! And it doesn't look like they will finish anytime soon. Our election helpers in Germany have it better.

I will continue tomorrow. Let's see how far I can get. Today, the GPS gave a clear direction: EAST. But I still have to go further south.