Andahuaylas, Peru
The Backroads of Peru to Cuzco: Part IV
February 17, 2008
I found myself further and further from my home
And I guess I lost my way
There were oh so many roads
I was living to run and running to live
Never worried about paying or even how much I owed
Moving eight miles a minute for months at a time
Breaking all of the rules that would bend
I began to find myself searchin'
Searchin' for shelter again and again
Against the wind
- Bob Seger
Leaving Huancayo, again in the early morning to finish the 10-hour bus ride before darkness; I was rather ready to get to Cuzco after such a long time spent on various buses on abysmal roads. The road to Ayucucho was paved until the town of Izcucho and thereafter became a winding dirt path skirted the walls of the canyons as it followed a river downstream. In the beginning the railroad tracks followed alongside the road but these diverged here too, towards Huancavelica. A section of the tracks continued onward, obviously little used, towards a small town who´s prosperity had long since been eclipsed with the passing of the railroad era. The road continued to follow the briskly flowing river, which had lots of rapids, for quite a while before it eventually turning into a stagnant brown pond for some distance, a sure indication of a dam lying ahead.
Soon enough we approached some fenced in offices and you could see the edge of the dam. As we rounded the bend there was a big fence topped with barbed wire on the side of the road and a large sign that said it was prohibited to take unauthorized photos of this dam in the middle of nowhere. I´m not quite sure why and I don´t think this applied to bus passengers so I took a few unauthorized photos of said dam, perhaps the first ever glimpse the outside world has ever had of this engineering marvel. As we proceeded on it was warm and dusty inside the canyon, and the scenery was nice, but I think I had been spoiled by previous scenery in the mountains. Eventually we reached Ayacucho about 30 minutes before dark and I walked the streets, which had a nice two block pedestrian zone and the cathedral in the main plaza had a splendid gilded altar with multiple tiers (it is prohibited to take photos). I did manage to see a few other tourists, maybe 5, I had seen three in Huancayo, but other than that I had not seen any since entering Peru except for two in Huaraz, two in Cajamarca, and one in Pedro Ruiz.
The next morning I woke up early again for a 6:30am bus to Andahuaylas, about a 10-hour ride that started with a climb out of the valley and above the hazy layer of pollution sitting over the city. The climb continued gradually up to the uninhabited highlands before descending into a dust bowl of a canyon that was very hot and dry. The heat was stifling in the bus with the windows closed, tempting you to open them but upon doing so you would be promptly greeted with a cloud of dust. The bus stopped for lunch at Chumbes, it is apparently the place to stop for anyone on this route, as there were a total of 4 buses and two combis there. Continuing further through into the canyon, eventually the dust prevailed over the afternoon heat and with some windows open I arrived in Andahuaylas with a thin coating of dust. I promptly bought my ticket for the bus to Cuzco at 6:30am the next morning and went to clean up before my return to civilization tomorrow.
The ride to Cuzco was rather uneventful, we made good time because the driver was driving the bus as if it were a Formula 1 racecar, flying around corners and passing everyone on the road. From high up on the mountain the town of Abancay came into view far below and after the first glimipse of the town I think we were on the bus for at least another hour before we finally reached the town to stop for lunch. Onwards from Abancay it was easy going on the well-paved road the rest of the way to Cuzco. Shortly before Cuzco in some small village the lane into Cuzco was blocked off by people protesting something and all the incoming traffic had to detour through the village on a narrow dirt road with numerous switchbacks that were too sharp for the bus to handle in one turn. The police were on the scene of the protest but were just sitting there watching and refused to do anything. Despite this small delay we reached the limits of Cuzco with views overlooking the city below, a sea of red brick buildings and red-tiled roofs with some ancient churches interspersed here and there. At about the same time as our bus pulled into the terminal it started to rain, heavily. There was a mad rush of people from the three buses that had just arrived as people stampeded towards the shelter of the roof. Under the roof people pushed and jockeyed to get to the exit while the rest of the people waited for the rain to let up so that they would start to unload the luggage. Not exactly a fine welcome to Cuzco.
Finally, after some 95 hours on a combination of buses, cars, and vans, I had arrived in Cuzco by traveling solely through the Andes. It was a long journey, and quite arduous at times, with poor roads and poor buses requiring much patience and endurance. In traveling this route I have seen some truly amazing things and it has certainly been a unique experience with lots of interactions with the local people. In my opinion this was vastly superior to traveling down the easy coastal roads via the more established tourist destinations.