San Carlos’s main square
was the intended meeting point where the candidate gave a speech, the intensity
of which increased slowly but steadily to galvanize the crowd. The following day
we reached Merida in the Andes Mountains. There is the world’s highest chairlift
that goes from the outskirts of Merida, 1770 meters up to 4750 meters. The sights
were breathtaking The way down, however, brought us back to deal with reality.
Returning to
the hotel we were told that the following day the frontier would
be closed because of the elections. That news made us load our bikes and depart
for
Colombia. After climbing a mountain pass higher than 2500 meters
our
companion, the rain, escorted us all the way to the border town of San Antonio,
Colombia, where we were welcomed with strict customs formalities. By 9 p.m. we
were in a hotel in Cucuta thanks to Pablo, a fellow we met earlier riding a small
scooter with his girl friend, Yuri. We ended up having a supper together in an
outside restaurant with traditional music and happy people dancing cheerfully.
Back at the hotel about midnight we thought about the clear contradiction. People
were enjoying themselves despite the presence of army soldiers everywhere. The
following day we said goodbye to Pablo. We rode toward Bucaramanga crossing mountain
passes above an
altitude of 3000 meters. We took a break at Pamplona where
many people were cheering in the street. It was the 450th anniversary of the foundation
of the city and people were celebrating the occasion. We had people taking pictures
of their children sitting on and standing beside our motorcycles. It must have
been a great day for the local photographers for days like
this one wouldn’t
happen too often. We slept at San Gil, a colonial-style town, and the following
day we reached Villa de Leiva, one of the most beautiful
colonial cities in
Colombia. The soldiers granted us permission to park in the square for about fifteen
minutes to take pictures. Having said that we were
newspaper photographers
was a big help. The lady managing the Hotel Dino’s, possibly because of a
long-ago Italian boyfriend, (and that has happened to me before in South America)
gave us a room with a view
of the square. The afternoon was spent as tourists
wandering around town. Leaving town we headed toward Tunja by leaving the main
road for Bogota, we headed to Laguan de Guatavita, riding the last 50 kilometers
off the road. Later on we found out that the trail was closed due to some work
connected with an environmental program and our efforts to go through had been
fruitless. We were told to come back December 15 when the new road would be open.
So we headed for Zaraquira, a place known for the salt mines
but whose masterpiece
is the Cathedral of Salt with its Station of the Cross with the Cathedral itself
the ending station located 150 meters beneath the main gate. The place has a capacity
for 3000 people. In the meantime a construction work is underway to build an auditorium
with a 300-person capacity. The visit lasted one hour but we kept talking with
Fernanda, the
chaperone, who was happy to have been so useful. We were 300
kilometers from Bogota; a highway took us to the very heart of the city. We were
surprised that roads in that part of the world were so beautifully build, so smooth,
with street signs so frequent but what was really surprising were the wide roads
crossing at about 90 degrees with narrow streets and a transportation system so
functional making traffic flow easily. For a city like Bogota de Santa Fe, a city
of 8 million people, it is a great achievement.
Members of CISP, a humanitarian
organization that has been working in Colombia for a long time, welcomed us with
an extraordinary sense of hospitality and gave us lodging and a parking place
for our bikes. We are
thankful to our friend Luigino Ciotti who has worked
hard to make these arrangements possible. Until the next segment, greeting
from Bogota Giampiero, Andrea and Domenico
TRIP
REPORT PART 2  | We
remained in Bogota for a couple of days visiting interesting places like the Museum
of Gold where artifacts of the precolombian era are displayed and the old side
of the Candelaria built in colonial style. From there by way of the chair life
we reached Monserrat, the highest point from where the whole city of Bogota can
be seen. The same evening we took an airplane for Cartagena. This trip was already
planned to save us about 4 days on the road where there was a high possibility
of having dangerous encounters with bands of outlaws dealing with contraband.
Cartagena has nothing to do with the rest of the country. With a high percentage
of blacks, (let’s not forget that until the 18th century it was a slave market)
a steady temperature of about 30 degrees Celsius, Caribbean music and the Old
City architecture, it is a tourist attraction. | We then
took a day off to enjoy Rosary Island to visit a natural aquarium and to take
a bath in the warm waters of Playa Blanca. Back in Bogota we went to visit the
archeological site of San Augustin which is the most important one in the country.
We were told that the area was a dangerous one until the previous year. A guerilla
group had virtually cancelled the site from the geographical map but with more
tourists coming the situation had changed for the better. That is what we were
told by Miguelangel who would be our tour guide for the next three days. With
him on the saddle with Andrea we rode about 100 kilometers visiting some places
all around the city. The road follows the Rio Magdalena so we went from 2880 meters,
the altitude of Bogota, through an endless forest, down to 100 meters in San Augustin.
We interrupted the journey with a stop to get sleep in Nevia. The following day,
after we obtained some information at the local police station, we decided to
take our chances on the road that goes from San Augustin to Popaya. We had to
face 150 kilometers of a trail where the possibility of being stopped by bandits
was real since the presence of the military along the road had pushed these bandits
far from the main road. Miguelagreed to come with us without exultation and we
then thought truly he was a kind of passport. He might have known someone in that
forest. At 6 a.m. we left the town but before that Miguel told us to hide our
money which we had already done but he advised us to keep 7 to 8 thousand pesos
($40 U.S.) so we could eventually pay our toll if that was going to be the case.
We rode uphill to about 3000 meters on a trail messed up by the previous night’s
rain. Rocks, potholes filled with water, you name it After 20 kilometers I got
a flat tire. We had to go 2 kilometers before we found some houses. There I had
to change the inner tube. At the first checkpoint the
soldiers told us that
from there on the road was safer so we pushed on. The next 30 kilometers we found
ourselves in the middle of nowhere and we kept a vigilant eye to spot something
unusual, After we saw some trucks we relaxed thinking that the danger was something
of the past and we even stopped to take some pictures. Along the road we also
saw a road sign
warning about mines. At the first village we took leave from
Miguel. The next military post greeted us with menacing submarine guns while we
tried to figure out if these guys in uniforms were real soldiers or if it was
a trick by rebel forces. We relaxed only after they made us open our bags, wondering
what three Italian tourists with their bikes were doing in that area. Popaya,
the white city as they call it in Colombia because of the color of the houses,
is a living city whose university was then occupied by students protesting against
privatization. Outside it several policemen in antiriot gear were ready to face
the situation if there was a need. We were allowed in the courtyard where there
were several tents and music, a lot of music to help ease the tension. The following
day we made it to the Equadorian border. While on the
way we noticed a high
percentage of the population was black. It was similar to being somewhere in Africa.
It took one hour to cross the borders of Colombia and Equador. Then we reached
the tiny village of the Cave
of Peace, 5 kilometers from the Panamerican Highway.
In that town there is a sanctuary built to remember the apparition of the Virgin
Mary in 1912. We slept at the Pilgrims’ House, unlike the one in Padua, it
promotes an ascetic life. The following day we halted at Ibarra to pay a visit
to the local Rural Bank which is the equivalent of our Mutual Help of 100 years
ago.
In fact, there is an agreement of cooperation between the Rural Banks
in the Brescia area and those in Equador. Andrea and Domenico are employees of
the Rural Banks in Italy. We became partners by paying $18 and giving an interview
to the NORTE newspaper. Entering Quito was not a problem. At the Rural Bank we
met Mr. Giuseppe Tonello who works and lives in
Equador; he has for many years.
Besides his affability he invited us to his house where he planned something of
a surprise. There it was a surprise
indeed, the surprise being the presence
of Alpine Star Patron Sante and Miki Biasion. Yes, just like you in the pictures
Both of them were there because the Rally champions had decided to donate some
electricity generators to the People of the Andes. This was a noble cause that
enhances the way we regard Biasion. So the evening supper lasted until 2 a.m.
between storytelling and laughter.
Until next time
From Quito Giampiero,
Andrea and Domenico
TRIP REPORT
PART 3
 | It
was 10 a.m. when our wheels reached Miraflores, Lima’s city block where we
lodged. We traveled 6-700 kilometers from Caracas, 1200 kilometers in a
trailless
environment. The last 13 days have been the most engaging both for us and the
bikes since we went up and down from altitudes ranging from 4600 meters to 700
meters. We left Quito after a memorable night with Miki Biasion. The following
day we visited the Indios market of Otavalo where we witnessed an explosion of
colors and music. The day after was dedicated to a visit of the city. It was a
Sunday and there was no traffic on the roads. We left the capital city in the
morning in the direction of theh Cotopaxi (the throne of the moon) where the altitude
of 5897 meters makes it the highest volcano in the world. | After
riding 140 kilometers in a roadless area we went up to 4500 meters where there
was a parking lot. There we found out that the park keepers were on strike but
after they heard of our journey we were
allowed to go in to avoid us making
a difficult trek to enter the park some other way. From this altitude one feels
like dominating the whole world. What a view We went back to the Panamerican Highway
for a few miles and soon after riding off the road we arrived at a lagoon where
it seemed to us that it was a representation of all the people in the world. We
saw an Italian nun whose niece was there on her honeymoon, two American girls
and a few German guys with an off-road vehicle who were touring South America
for about six monthes. It was a cold evening and sleeping at the foothills of
the mountain was out of the question. So we had to light a bonfire. The following
morning, going down through Puyo, there was a different situation. We were in
the Amazon basin with its explosion of natural beauty. The road that
goes through
it required a slalom among rocks and potholes. That afternoon was raining. Therefore,
the mud became an additional problem. When we arrived at Macas we received the
hospitality reserved for some extraterrestrial aliens since bike riders are unheard
of and because the unusual engine size of our bikes were called “carro’
which means “automobile”. While we experienced warm temperatures the
day before,
the next day we were persecuted with cold water. Riding off the
road we went to passes up high in the mountains to altitudes of 3800 meters. Natural
waterfalls
threw water on the trail making it slippery. Domenico fell but thanks to the side
bag he had a soft landing. By nightfall we were at
Ingapirca, not far from
Canar, an important Inca site. The following day’s voyage had us coming closer
to the Peruvian border. Since we don’t like simple things we crossed it from
a secondary entrance situated up high on the Cordillera. Then the trail goes downhill
towards the Pacific Ocean and the town of Trujillo. If until now we didn’t
suffer from the local traffic, from then on we had to pay attention to it for
it is a chaotic situation. Cars blowing horns
for no apparent reason since
no one cares Street lights are like nonexistent while the cabs behave like they
own the street. When we took a cab to go to Chan Chan, the ancient Chimo capital
city, the 5 kilometer ride became a soccer broadcasting station. Pablito the cab
driver was soccer fan so he started a fake broadcasting of the Italy-German game
and after that
the Italy-Brazil final match of the 1970 World Cup in Mexico.
Only the goals were missing. We laughed so hard at the way he did it. The same
afternoon we visited the pyramids of the sun and the moon built by the Moche dynasty
about 1500 years ago. When we went back on the Panamerican Highway the surrounding
habitat looked more familiar. It was hot and there were tall sandy dunes, dry
land with no signs of life. This did not last for long. We left the Pan, which
is how the road is called there. Then the trail goes uphill and we decided to
travel out of it. It has been a 160 kilometer-long, frightening adventure. The
Pato canyon shows a multitude of rocky pinnacles pointing straight toward the
sky. Then we ended up on a trail with tiny old bridges with wood planks so badly
in need of repair that we were worried about the
few small trucks we saw coming
and going. The hand-dug tunnels were interesting indeed. We counted 47 of them:
some short, some longer and pitch dark, all of them cut through rock. The last
few miles our friend, the rain, rode with us all the way to Caraz where we stayed
for the night. Caraz became our residence for two days since we were in need of
rest. We then left Caraz and rode to Huraz which is famous for being the starting
point for
trekkers visiting the Blanca mountain range. Again crossing a pass
with a 4000- meter altitude we rode beyond the Laguan of Querococha Mount using
the Cahuish Tunnel at 4560 meters above sea level. This tunnel dug in the rock
is so small that only one car at a time can use it. At the tunnel exit we found
ourselves in the Chavin Valley with an altitude of 3145 meters. The place is famous
for its archeological remains that date from 1300 to 300 B.C.,
well before
the Incan Empire, and is the earliest archeological site in Peru. The following
day overloaded as we were, we reached the Lagune of
Lianganuco from where we
could admire Mount Huascaran whose height is 6768 meters. The park keepers allowed
us to stop in the park to take some pictures. There was no electricity up there
and we heard a little lady
complaining about it. Despite wearing a colorful
Indies costume while she was posing with us for a picture, the lady told us that
she could not use e-mail for lack of electrical power. Contradictions of an ever-changing
world! We left Huaraz to rejoin the Pan by the way of a neckbreaking road. Curves,
lots
of curves on a steep downhill! Finally having reached the Pan everything became
easy and we were in Lima without problems. We found a washing facility because
our bikes were in need of it. The following day we left our working horses in
a friend’s place until next year when we will be back
for a further journey
heading south all the way to Buenos Aires, Argentina. At his point let me give
you some details: between Domenico and I we took 1600 digital pictures; Andrea
and I took 850 slides, seven hours of movie pictures; we slept in 20 different
beds, changing countless number of bed blankets; and we had 3 flat tires. While
riding off road we never had a problem with the tires. Considering the fact that
we went through very difficult situations this was a plus. Finally we have to
thank our side bags,
hard, sturdy and useful especially in protecting us when
we fell to the ground. That is all. From Lima, hast luego!
Giampiero,
Andrea and Domenico |
