03.11.: Limatambo - 2,550 m -

04.11.

The night in my adobe room was eventful. I slept well for the first few hours, then the cold came. I made the mistake of laying on the horse blankets with my sleeping bag. The second mistake was creating the reason for the beer to be "taken away". There was no toilet, not even one for the public, so I had to improvise. The first time went well, but the second time I had to wait until latecomers were out of sight.

But then I fall asleep again. I'm not awakened by roosters or meowing cats, but by the voices of the early risers.

It's twenty to eight. My senor, who owns a truck, is already awake and planning his day and route. The truck fills the spicy morning air with diesel fumes. I ask him for a toilet, and he points his finger towards the nearby forest.

Later he pushes me up the narrow path with the Vespa

I pack my things, say goodbye to the senora, and by 08:30 I'm on the Vespa. I've never been up this early before. The ride is pleasant, no need for a change or anything else.

I imagine having breakfast in Abancay, but as I enter the city, my only wish is to leave as soon as possible. The 3S traverses the city, tackling quite steep inclines. It also goes through narrow residential streets with the usual speed bumps. Thanks to green lights and some risky overtaking maneuvers uphill, I handle the climbs well and leave the city after half an hour.
Up to this point, I have managed not to ride the same stretch twice. That was one of the reasons why I wanted to avoid the coastal road on the way from Quito here. I managed it, we have conquered the mountains, and Abancay is the intersection of my tour through Peru. Although there were still some small detours on the way from Cusco to Abancay, when I drive through the town of Curahuasi and see the signpost for the mission clinic, I know that there will be more places that will look familiar to me. I briefly consider stopping by the clinic again to personally meet the founder, but hunger takes priority.
Although I don't find a restaurant, I find a well-stocked fruit stand with fresh mangoes. After half an hour, I continue and reach Limatambo around 16:30. I stayed here on the way here, but as I drive through, I don't recognize anything anymore. I stop at a hospedaje, which also has a hardware store, get a room in the back, and can park the Vespa in the warehouse. I am exhausted, but the almost obligatory cola that I drink on a stool in front of the tienda awakens my spirits again. One of the two daughters of the house - she is 4 - sits down next to me and struggles with a sour fruit with many seeds.

Across the street are 4 school-uniformed girls waiting for a bus to take them home. It's not working at all. They have surely been standing there for a whole hour waiting. Since their bus is not clearly marked as public transportation, they try to flag down every sprinter or hiace. But those are tour buses that go on to Cusco. What a waste of time, I think to myself. They must still have homework to do. How is that even possible given the poor lighting conditions in the adobe houses. Or - and I really hope so for them - they are already done with everything and have 'finished work', if there isn't any household chores that need to be done at home.

I treat myself to a little siesta and later I get another menu. The best part is always the hot and invigorating soup, the main course usually consists of chicken, and in the end, there's a cup of tea.

On my way back to the hostel, I notice that the road is crowded with trucks. The truck drivers eat dinner in the numerous restaurants along the road, stock up on cola to stay awake, and embark on the arduous journey to their destination. I know Peru's roads and know that they have to fight their way through narrow and winding, unlit and sparsely equipped with signal strips on the road.

I am allowed to go to my hostel.