Roadkill

Shortly after getting to Cusco the idea of hiring motorbikes was raised by Anna and Dave. I have to admit I was slightly apprehensive about this idea. After participating in the un-organized chaos that is the Peruvian road transport system on numerous occasions - in taxis, death buses and by foot - the thoughts of entering this death-dance on something as un-protected as a motorbike were disconcerting to say the least. Based on these observations, and some not so wild extrapolation, motorcyclists appeared to stand in the pecking order of road users slightly above road kill and just below potholes in the list of road objects for motorists to avoid running over. 
In the interests of excitement and mindless disregard for safety I decided I would go along with the other two and participate in the case study “Does your holiday insurance cover the repatriation of your disfigured remains to Ireland?”. So we went to some fly-by-night bike rental shop. Went in, sat down and answered the questions: Do you have experience with motorbikes? Do you have motorbike licenses? Do you know how to use motorbikes with gears? When was the last time you were on a motorbike? Needless to say we lied to all and any questions. She cautioned us at one stage that in every group that comes in looking for bikes there is always one or two that lie about having experience. We were exceptional in this regard as all of us were lying about our experience. 
Sometimes it was hard to keep up with all the lies that were slithering out between our lips. Anything just to get to the part where you sign away your life and get the keys to the bikes. After all the lies and the signing we asked if we could get some lessons before heading off. Even the bike rental lady had to laugh at that – she was a really nice lady I have to say, and genuinely concerned for a our safety; her concern for it was only equaled by our reckless disregard for same. So we arrived the next morning and got set up with our bikes (brand new 250cc Honda dirt bikes) and received our complementary training. 5 minutes later we hit off, the three of us making lines up the road like a drunk trying to walk straight. Sure what’s the worst that could happen?

Ready to go!

We had a map of a tourist route that seemed to lead us along the main roads stopping off at various ruins along the way. However at the first major junction that we came on we took the wrong turn and didn’t realize it until a few miles later.

This is a genuine photo we weren't actually posing for it!

This turned out to be the best thing that could have happened to us as we noticed that there were some mountain biking routes suggested on the map near to where we got lost. So we hit off up some gravel road not quite sure where it was going to lead us. Shortly along this route Anna and Dave noticed a random dirt track. It was little more than a track up a mountain. At this point we had no map to guide us so hitting off up a dirt road into the middle of nowhere seemed like a bad idea. So we took this dirt track route. Dave and I hit off up the mountain ahead of Anna. A few minutes later we noticed that Anna was no longer with us. So we stopped and waited. And waited. Still no sign of Anna. So at this point we thought she was done for and that there wasn’t much point going back to look for her as she was most likely kidnapped. However we thought if we were able to salvage her bike we would be able to get our deposits back at least. So we went back down the track and found the bike just after a muddy section of the road on a corner. Anna was there too, albeit looking slightly disheveled and muddy. It turned out that as Anna was navigating the corner, the road just came up and hit her, destroying her brand new jeans in mud and bending the front brake lever into a hoop. Eternally optimistic, Anna considered this a result given the circumstances.

Broken brake lever

I'm sure they're here somewhere!

The road also stole her expensive sunglasses as well. Figuring that this was our spot of bad luck over for the day we hit off again up the mountain with a renewed sense of vigor. Adventure was waiting and we would not stand her up. Not this day.

We spent the next few hours riding through fields and through dusty, seemingly abandoned villages. We stopped frequently to take photos and to get directions from farmers. The people up here were not used to seeing tourists so they were very eager to talk to us and laugh at us when we showed them our map and intended destination. 

Friendly local farmers

The scenery up there in the foothills of the Andes was nothing short of breathtaking. Literally every 10 minutes we had to stop just to take it all in. Rolling hills met with fluorescent-blue lakes which lapped at the sides of snowcapped peaks.

Snowcapped peaks

I became tired of taking photos as some points as it didn’t have the capacity to capture the beauty of the place. There are beautiful places in Ireland and it is often referred to as an incredibly scenic place. But the sheer vastness and loneliness of this place could not be matched by anywhere in Ireland. I felt a sense of freedom up here that I’ve haven’t had probably since I was kid where it was always easy to think you were on an adventure even when just a mile from home up the fields. 

Scenic landscapes

Eventually the adventure had to come to an end and we had to start figuring out how we were going to fix Anna’s bike. We had called into a few mechanics while touring the countryside but none of them had a part to replace the brake handle with. Eventually one of them told us to try the main Honda dealers in Cusco when we got back. They also confirmed, as we suspected, that the bike rental company would shaft us for the damage when we got back even though it was just a 20 dollar replacement part. So we set off in search of the Honda dealer. Of course we left it til the last minute which meant we were riding around Cusco at night trying to find this place with very little idea of where it was. I ended up losing Dave and Anna and had no way to contact them so I had to try and make it back to the bike rental place by myself. By pure fluke I found it and was met at the door by the lady who rented us the bikes – we were over an hour late at this stage and she thought we had been killed. She enquired as to the whereabouts of my riding companions. I told them that there were lost but that they would be here in a few minutes – how I knew this given that they were supposedly lost did not seem to occur to her. I couldn’t tell her that they were riding around looking for a garage to buy parts to fix her bike. So a half hour later Dave and Anna arrived back with two perfect bikes and we got our deposit back. Turns out they found the Honda garage but it had just closed. But they seen the guy locking up and told them the story about the bike and he opened up and got them the part for the brake handle. He even fitted it for them. Fitting end to a good day.