Peru is all in all a bit more wild, chaotic and generally more exciting as Bolivia. But same cheap. Not necessarily the nicest country in South America which I crossed during my tour. But there are several reasons, why I would like to return to Peru. Not because of the streets tho, but hitchhiking worked very well, allthough I faced some unexpected complications.

Stats

Hitchhiked distance: 2754 kilometer

Number of lifts: 47

Average waiting time: 24 minutes 44 seconds

Waiting time total: 19 hours 23 minutes

The Log you can find Log Peru

My Route

First I hitchhiked several days through blocked roads from Copacabana near Lago Titicaca to Cusco. What a nice welcome. From there I made my way north through anarchic Lima into Ecuador. Lots of transit.

People

Peruvians are very proud folks in general. Different to Bolivia, where I perceived a more humble attitude. The rich cultural backround comes through. People keep their heads up and seem a bit dangerous sometimes. But also here I made the experience, that behind the surface most of the people are very gentle and friendly, if you approach them with a smile. They are more direct than their neighbours, but not as bitchy as the Argentinians. I liked it.

Beside that I recognized about Peruvians: Rock, classic Rock and good old psychedelic Rock´n Roll. In the radio we got all that long forgotten classics going on. Music from my childhood. Supported by cover bands in the bars of Cusco. I think I somehow got the impression, that Peruvians are the rockers of South America.

Roads

Roads yes. There is a highway up to Lima, which starts behind Ica and is part of the Panamericana. In general this is a good route through plane land with a good road, but the Peruvians don´t really know how to use this brand new Highway. Which means it ends up in some chaotic traffic, which I found everywhere in Peru with it´s orgastic blowoff in Lima. Weird city.

Beside this highway you also got the country side. The streets there are usually quite okay, but eastwards of Nasca you got a lot of serpentines and a longer tour can be quite exhausting here. Maybe a little bit more exhausting as the real rural mudd roads, because the speed is higher and you are exposed to gravitation.

Keeping areas are found very easy, but the big roads are sometimes a bit narrow. But there are much worser countries for his, I don´t want to complain! Here and there you can find nice roundabouts which are always a good choice for positioning. City are often small and good to cross, even by walking. Near the coast you should be cautious, cause there are some big ones like Nasca or the Spawn of Chaos: Lima.

There are tol-stations in Peru which are also quite suitable for hitchhiking. On the big highways there are also some nice rest-areas. All in all some good options for positioning in Peru. The moving is very slow. Either the roads are shit, or the traffic unable. Or both.

Tactics

Walking worked here. But it is hard to make the Peruvians stop sometimes. I was used to Bolivia where literally everything stopped, which passed by.

But in general I had the feeling that hitchhiking worked quite well, with one snag: They expect you to pay. This was indeed a widely spread expectation towards hitchhikers, especially in the South. It is much different to Bolivia or the other countries in South America, because in Peru you will also meet a lot of locals who are hitchhiking. I haven´t seen that in other countries as much as in Peru.

This fact makes your life indeed a bit more complicated here. I recommend to be clear from the beginning, before entering the car, that you won´t pay, don´t have money and do hitchhiking. Often they pick you up anyway. Also I want to note, that the Peruvians are not very offensive, when asking for money, but point out very friendly, that they would need money for gas. Sometimes I wanted to give something, but they said it is okay, because I am a Gringo. But this was more exceptional. Better have a clear communication and avoid unpleasent suprises.

Pictures

Specifics

Lima might be the biggest Moloch I ever crossed and this is not meant negative. The city contains a strange charme and the traffic was so chaotic, that I felt in love with this unique Mayhem.

Cusco is the tourist capital of South America and all treks to Machu Picchu start from here. You will face a strange mix of backpackers, families and weekend travellers in this place. The city is very beautiful, makes good money from the tourist, nice bar culture and some clubs with wicked locals and drugs on every corner.

In Peru you can try the psychoactive San Pedro, which is legal and to buy on the market. In the mountains you can attend to some rituals with shamans and get some tripping in the old ruins. I never attended to thos kind of rituals, but principially you sit around a camp fire and take psychedelic drugs. Sounds not too bad and you don´t get in conflict with the law.

As I just had a look at the pictures again, I have to add something. Peru is beautiful. The landscape is very intriguing. The desert on the western coast is as beautiful as the mountains in the east part. And Cusco is definitely the moste beautiful city I saw in South America. Colonial style. Very nice buildings, just too much tourists.

Der Beitrag Hitchhiking in… (12) Peru erschien zuerst auf Warm Roads.

Planless Gauchos riding into the chaos

I drove with two Argentinians, who kindly gave me a lift to the other end of the city. We were sitting in a rusty piece of junk to cross Lima through the rush hour. Driving directly into hell. What seemed chaotic on the highway, escalated exponentially within the city and turned out to be pure anarchia. I drove through a lot of different shit holes, but this city reached a whole new level. Generally every crossroad we passed while honking and screaming towards the cars around us. Ruthless and always in hope not to bump into anything while moving forward. Some truck tried to push as aside on the anyway much to narrow street. “Puta Puta”, the Argentinians screamed out of the open windows.

The bigger junctions where conducted by policewoman on podiums. They were standing with masks and glow stick on their unreal galleries and waved alternately the 5-laned traffic through. Underlined was this scenery by the aggressive sounds of a thunder whistle, with which they tried to restrain the huge traffic. Every gesture was clear and determining. A sight of behold, which might be one of the most impressing experiences for me in this absurd city. Traffic lights have been nothing more than decoration. Absolute chaos, but somehow it worked. Fascinating. And while we where waiting in the traffic jam, we could buy everything we needed from those nomadic salesmans which you need during the rush hour. Food, sweets, drinks……just not weapons. Beside this I recognized: Lima smells strong. Sometimes like shit, sometimes like food, sometimes like flowers…whatever, it smelled all the time. This is how I imagine a modern Ankh Morpork.

At some point i asked myself: What the fuck are we doing here? Luiz, my last ride, said, that the highway was leading through all the city and….well….yes….we were totally lost and stucked in the middle of this moloch. At every stop we took the chance to ask the drivers around us where to go, which turned out to become kinda running gag between us. “Preguntar Taxi?” “Claro!”. Haha. The best was: The poor Argentinos asked for the way, the other driver answered and while we drove of looking at each other, always the question came up: “Did you understood him?” “No, did you?”. Poor Argentinos. Nobody understands them and they do neither. This turned out to become difficult.

Or main problem was however, that they asked for a wrong direction and we ended up in a suburb of Lima, which was probably as big as Berlin and definitely not part of our way. So we had to go all the way back and cross Lima again. I took over the orientation at one point, after i realized, that there was a city map of Lima in my atlas. 2,5 hours later we have been back on the Panamerica. Survived Lima during rush hours. It was a nice experience somehow. In its own way.

23:52 I was waiting on the next Peaje and catched a ride with a truck. 30km to then next Peaje? Claro. Movement is movement. I passed out in the truck and woke up one hour later, when we arrived at our destination. I guess it was more than 30km. Falling out of the truck I took position again. It was 01:00 in the night. According to my gameplan I had to catch a nightlift far north now. Looking back made me become desillusioned. I was behind Lima, which was a big milestone on my way to Bogota. And allthough I was CONSTANTLY moving in cars and trucks during the last 24 hours, day and night(except for 30 minutes waiting time). Allthough this great performance I had only 800-1000km behind me. Hitchhiking as it should be, but this seemed to be the fastest possible moving. I knew, if I go longer distances the whole tour counts and not only sections. You might lose the battle, but still can win the war……and then Lucho came.

Night creatures and other animals

Lucho, who was named originally Luiz, passed me at the Toll-Station and while doing that, he looked somehow suprised and did a confusing gesture. I guess he was curious what i was doing there. So he pulled over, we had a small talk where he was going, he said 500km north. What a big distance for this slow roads and this area. “500km?”, I asked disbelieving. He agreed to take me. My night ride was there. Yay! We cleaned the car, made some space for me. I would stay for the next 10 hours with him and these are exactly those kind of night rides I am looking for. And exactly those who I enjoy the most.

Lucho was a crazy guy. He remembered me of Vitaly, some Romanian fellow, who gave me one a ride from Kopenhagen to Hamburg, also during the night (maybe I should write a Vitali feature one day). His car was stuffed with apartment furniture, clothing and other things. He was looking at me with a mixture of enthusiasm and insanity and weared a white towel around his neck, like a boxer during the fight break. he was working for a chinese company and was an engineer. Responsible for drilling. I could hardly understand his Spanish, he spoke very fast. But he was extremly perceptive and intelligent. He was lecturing about the different spanish languages and how they developed within the different cultures and he showed me a lot of different good music. Every little thing draw his interest. it was somehow a bit scary, because he was so freaky and aware at the same time. His questions were very precise and he did not let off until you gave an equally precise answer.

We drove through the deserty coast area and aside the road were little houses with a laterns in front of their entrance. Illegal gas stations, explained me Lucho. But that was a secret. The laterns were a hint, that you could buy gas here. It became a very long night. I felt asleep. the kind of sleep that overtakes your mind and pushes you into the dark unconcious state. Your head falls forward and you start to drool on yourself. It is basically the only sleep that I have on a big tour like this. Sometime during daybreak i woke up slowly and Lucho asked, if I am hungry? We stopped at a small restaurant and he ordered some fish and some rice for us. Lucho invited me, while telling, that he felt asleep two times while driving this night. I decided to stay awake from now on.

Where you talk about the Wolf, there the Wolf is!

I observed with great interest Luchos mixture of insanity and acuteness, while he was dealing with people. In the little restaurant, he ordered something they didn´t had and it took them a bit longer to serve us. he constantly pestered, called the waitress and said with a disgusting smile: “You want me to come back, do you?” He had a really annoying behaviour, but somehow I was fascinated. Next stop: Gas station. The woman had no change and had to organize money from somewhere. Same game. He was screaming politely at her, why they have such a shit service here and why there was no water on the toilets. They started talking. he explained me, that this woman only earns around 200$ per month. Afterwards he became a bit more friendly. And there was water outside of the building, where we could wash our hands and faces. While washing a construction worker was shouting towards us. I couldn´t understand. But Lucho constantly provoked him, like evryone around him and while we drove off something like “para tu madre” came out of his mouth. He fleered at him and we drove off.

One more time police control. After corrupt several policemen before, Lucho said already: “Oh, this is going to be an expensive travel for me.” and he laughed hysterically. But this time we had problems with the paperwork. And if there are problems, after giving some money to the police, it means you are in deep shit! Long discussion, Lucho had to get out of the car and get to the police jeep. I don´t know what happened then, but probably it became expensive. A very entertaining night ride came to its end. Around 12:39 we arrived in Chicuaya, northern Peru. Again abit slower than expected, but I did a big step forward.

A small truck stoppe 8 minutes later and took me two hours further north on a road which runs 200km straight, without any civilization and only one junction in the middle of nowhere. At this junction i got dropped. There was a little restaurant where i could get new water, cigarettes as well as some snacks. While waiting at the junction, there was a woman sitting, who hopped from one bus to another, selling street food. Around us was onyl sand and garbage. After a while another woman arrived, got out of a bus, started sitting on her plastic box of food and emptied her pockets from all that plastic bags and junk inside. The wind blew the plastic bags across the street, half dancing, half rolling they were carried into the desert to finally stuck at a random bush for the next 500 years. A somehow sickening sight.

First i catched a Toyota, then hitchhiked a Taxi from Puna to Sullana and convinced a Mototaxi to take me to the end of the city in trade off a cigarette. Meanwhile i arrived in back in the jungle. The air was humid and hot, cars hardly stopped and i transpired like in Brazil the last time. Around six in the evening i got my expected evening ride towards Tumbe, the last city in Peru, a few kilometers away from the ecuadorian border. Again everything went like I worked for it. We should drive for 5,5 hours. Small truck. In between stopping for dinner. Fish again, combined with some ice-cold water and my driver invited me. Anyway i had no more than 8$ in my pocket and didn´t spend any money during the last 24 hours. Border near, Ecuador i am coming!

Der Beitrag As full of life as an old cheese on a hot day – Hitchhiking through Lima erschien zuerst auf Warm Roads.

Again blockade? Really guys?

80km behind Juliaca. Not very far. Cakewalk. At a bakery I filled my pockets with a whole lot of sweet things and crossed Puno. Strange to see that there was still nearly no traffic. And why are there again people standing around? “Hey, is that a blockade?” “Of course, until midnight today.” “Oh shit, still?”. I had in mind that they would block only for 24 hours the day before. Great. Anyway it wasn’t far and busses were also going, so there has to be some traffic. Traffic exists, hitchhiking possible.

Walking through Puno in the morning. First car, a Pick-Up stuffed with Gringos, stops immediately. Four US-Boys who go to Cusco. 300km behind my goal. Perfect hitch. I was travelling on the loading platform enjoying the landscape. At Juliaca we stopped at a roundabout and the guys bought some icecream. If I also want some… of course! We loaded a Peruvian granny and went for the next village for lunch. Pretty emberassing: They insisted on a group picture with the granny and me, when we left the car. Very unpleasant for her. And for me.

So far no more blockades until Juliaca. There where some small campfires, a demonstration, a closed main street and a lot of police. My information about the freight train were referring to a place about 80km north of Juliaca, direction Cusco. I decided to go there directly. Juliaca was a dirty metropolis drowning in chaos from the blockades, the police and with a train station under complete surveillance. More chances in Ayaviri.

As we arrived there I was pumped with Adrenalin. Still eight hours to wait. Went for an internet cafe and lunch, afterwards inspecting the route. Where are the spots to jump on, where are the people hanging around and where can I hide, in case. Went through the village like a detective looking for information, taking pictures of everything. And I invested in a down jacket (without sleeves) because I heared of -5° Celsius at night, including the airstream of the train damn cold and I wanted to have at least something warm, besides my standard equipment. It was around four o’clock, the train was scheduled between eight and half past ten.

Waiting for the train

7:55 pm. We have a saying in German that goes like “Five minutes early is the soldiers punctuality”. There i was. In my bag I had water reserves and cookies, cigarettes and matches. I only need a train now. With zero people on the train station I sat on my backpack, smoking. I had repacked all of my stuff earlier. Laptop to the center of the backpack, not on top. More stabil. Prepared for any possible happenings. Wearing only dark clothes. All warm clothes I wore already or had it ready to get them out of the box, easy and fast. Now waiting.

Every car or truck that honked somewhere in audible distance startled me up. The train? I was pumped with adrenalin. As the night closed in became very cold, I was miserably freezing and considered if it was the best idea, a train, this temperatures. Especially since in Peru you don’t have Box-Cars so you are exposed to nature. I practiced shadow boxing to keep my body on temperature. What also helped: the honking. Whenever I froze and a alleged train appeared my body jump into alert, adrenalin, and I wasn’t cold anymore. Interesting experience.

Grifting at the nightly train station

8:30 pm. Movement disturbs the deserted train station. Three people cross the rails, 100 meters to the right from my position. They stop. Look at me. Whisper. Turn around and walk away in a new direction. What´s going on here guys? Well, its not my business, no matter what they do. Anyway I took my backpack and went away. As I was gone they returned to their object of interest . Whatever that was. Mysterious.

I went for a spin. The basic principle of train hopping is that you stay clandestine. The decision to go for the platform at the local train station might not seem wise, but it should be fine. As I came back a man stood motionlessly on the rails. I stopped in the middle of the street. Movementless. Well, if he is scouting for the boys, while they do their business, I will have to wait. We visually inspected each other, while i lighted myself a cigarette. No communication. Waiting.

At some point a woman passed me and went to the man. A couple that was wandering through the train station. No sabotage monitoring. Through the evening I had another three couples that I disturbed with my presence. Every time they looked around the corner, saw “somebody”(me) standing there, turned around and vanished. But hey, it was my night. I wanted to jump a freight train. No room left for love. Sorry. Allthough i wouldn´t bother anyway. Make love guys, i just wanna hop a train.

Crowded with security

9:30 pm. No train at sight. But new friends. Two humans in yellow jackets slowly walk towards me. From the darkness. Suddenly a police whistle. I stood there, unimpressed. Police. Perfect, thats exactly what you need when you illegally jump a train. But as they approach me they made no move for conversation. “Buenos noches.”, I started. “Hi, what are you doing here?” Oh damn… need an excuse…aehm…. I wanna see the train!!!! (that was true) and … I will meet a friend, a girl…later…ya. That did the trick, I managed to radiate a peaceful atmosphere. Small incidents like that will not get me off my plans. Why I was standing in darkness? I should go into the illuminated area, there are a bunch of bad people around. If I had seen anything? Well, there were those three guys… doing something. Yes, bad people… criminals, better go to the bright spot over there. Then they left. Said something about 20 minutes. Didn’t really understood what they said, maybe they would be coming back in 20 minutes? If the train arrives whilst they are around, would i still try to catch it? I thought about changing the location but rather decided to sit it out and since they didn’t turn up within the next 90 minutes I felt safe.

11:20 pm. Bitingly cold, I was boxing in the third round against my shadow. My opponent and I, still fresh, fatigue as knocking only sometimes, at some seconds I am a little bit dizzy. It was chill! How would it be on the train? In the background I heard whistles, sometimes close and sometimes further away. Several patrols seem to go around in the city.

Good day Mr. and Mrs. Cone

11:35 pm, I hear somebody walking down the road. Whistles. I am standing in a bright area and don’t manage to jump into the shadows. I am spotted. This time not the two yellow jackets form the police, but two humans in Ponchos and basecaps. Looking like cones. Both stop and stare at me. Not moving a muscle. No word. I spin my circles trying to not get ruffled. What if the train arrives at this moment? I couldn’t think about anything else. Another whistle. Followed by motionless staring. Suddenly three dogs come rushing towards me. Two of them were cowards but one was encircling me aggressively. Baring its teeth, barking. “Good, good, calm down doggy, what’s up?” The two cones keep standing motionless, staring at me. The dogs might be street dogs, walking along with the patrols. Middle-sized, looking like plushy bedside rugs.

Rather something to cuddle than police dogs. Still annoying in this situation. I continued spinning my circles. The dogs lost interest at one point. The two cones sat down on a nearby bench and kept watching me. Every five minutes another whistle for their patrol friends. Besides that no movement. Slight whispers, no motion. Two dead-still cones with three plushy dogs and a gringo with a cigarette in his hand, stoically running in circles. Nightly scene on a Peruvian train station. I would really like to have a video of that moment.

At some point the two cones got maybe bored from my circular motion and went – together with the three walking fluffy-carpets – for new adventures. Meanwhile i froze bitterly. 11:50 pm, the train was nearly two hours behind official and one hour behind inofficial schedule (Patrick entered the train 10:45 pm). Time to give up… another honk… adrenalin…Train…no? No train. What a disapointment. I heard later, that they not even blocked the roads, but also the trains that day. This night found me a hotel for 2,20€ and crawled under the covers since I had frozen so much. Maybe a lucky coincidence that the train didn’t appear. Regarding temperature the ride would have been hardcore cold. But I will definitely catch up on Trainhopping later in the USA!

After defeat is before the defeat

At the next morning I packed my stuff… and there was that down jacket. In general a nice jacket, got it for 30 sol (around 7€), but it was messing up with my packing technique. Self-Discovery: I can not handle any new equipment because my order is disrupted, even if it was something very handy. Same shit, if I lose something or something breaks. I am trying to get even the smallest leftovers from my Stomaticum toothpaste since more than a month. You can’t buy this small and efficient toothpaste outside of Germany and I struggle against using another one. NO WAY! But: At some point it will be gone and I will have to deal with the situation. I am very attached to to my small home with all its details. Like Captain Chris, always focusing on preservation.

But then there was this down jacket. 30 Sol…to stingy to throw it. So I went back to the market and sold it there. After several talks I found two customers. Peruvians. 20 Sol… good price…yes, good price, cmon. The ladies behind the shop table approved. Deal. Back at the road I hitchhiked the first car. Too bad it was going into the wrong direction. 150 meters further the same guy had stopped at a gas station. Starts to talk to me and similar to my ride on the day of the blockade he hands me 10 Sol. “No no, don’t need it.” “Sure, get yourself some food.” “No no, no need for that… ok, well, thanks!” Everybody happy and I am compensated for the loss through the jacket. Thanks universe.

Shamefaced by the human race

On my way out of Ayaviri I had made a rather disturbing experience. I crossed a river and saw something swimming. Looked like a beaver. I stopped and realized that it was a dog. A dead dog. Nothing special. But looking closer I saw that it had a rope around the neck with a stone tied to the rope. Watching the dow being moved around by the water several thoughts went through my head. All together it made me very sad. Why would anyone do something like that? On the other hand, it is the sad reality that not everybody sees value in life and neither value in different forms of life, what arises cruelty like that. On the way to Cusco I also saw people kicking and hitting their animals (sheeps, lamas), two times, just because the animals didn’t want to move.

All together a stirring day. Later that day a Canadian woman that I met at the hostel showed me a different point of view. Maybe it weren’t some chav´s that killed a dog for saturday-nights fun, but the dog was very agressive, attacked people and thats why somebody did it. Nobody knows. Still I see in my head the dog, the rope, moving in the water. I made a picture but I spare you with it. Keep this disturbance for myself.

In the End

Hitchhiking to Cusco was relaxing, no big events. Originally I had planned to go climbing in Huaraz but the failed “Operation train hopping” had left some unrest inside of me. I need change. I might hitchhike the next 4000km to Bogota/Columbia without interruption, get a bike there and cycle through Columbia. The plan: I look for an old 20€ scrap bike, some bags and jump up the 800km to the coast. I can already see the traveling cyclists with their 3000€ hitech-equipment passing me. That’s another reason why I want to do it with a really old bike. In your face! Nobody needs that shit. And if I get tired I can hitchhike with the bike. Anyway: I am a hitchhiker. Not a cyclist.

Hello, you liked this article? Wanna read more? Please help us to translate more of my adventures and click here! :)

Der Beitrag How i hopped my first cargo train in Peru (not) erschien zuerst auf Warm Roads.

Leaving Bolivia, crossing the border, Passport inspection, new Visa, 13 minutes later I was in Peru. Not a lot of traffic, so I started walking. As always. A group of taxi drivers asked me for my destination. “Puno.” “Impossible, no traffic today.” “Why?” “Road closed, social conflicts.” “Oh. Well, thanks for the information.” Road blocked, I thought. Ha! So I have to get to the blockade, walk through, and continue on the other side. I had only 150 km in front of me. Can’t be that hard. The first Taxi gave me a ride to the next town. On my way out of the city a nice Peruvian took me in his China-Car. In that car I understood what was going on. The government wants to privatize part of the area around the Titicaca lake. It’s about resources and mining. Since the Peruvians don’t want that to happen they decided to close the whole road from La Paz to Peru – for 24 hours. We hadn’t even arrived at the main highway when we experienced the first signs of it. Stones and broken pieces of glass on the street, a warning to all that are going from A to B that day.

We passed a bus. I had spoken with my driver about strategies of movement when he excitedly pointed out: “Here here, this one’s going to Puno, just take the bus, it’s much easier.” “Well sorry, but no money.” I had more or less on purpose not taken any money from the ATM in Peru and wanted to start the day without coins in the pocket. The driver, happily excited, handed me 10 Sol (about 2,50€) and braked the arriving bus so that I could jump in. He seemed really happy. I couldn’t turn him down, accepted willingly and soon found myself in the bus. Technically spoken it was hitchhiking.

Today Peru is about destroying and blocking

The bus wasn’t going to Puno, that was clear, but just 40km further to another town, where we would find a connection to Puno. We rounded several stone barricades and headed straight into a village where we found a sudden end of the road. In front of us a barricade of barbed wire and behind it an exaggeratedly enthusiastic crowd that was taking down a street lamp (Type Cement) with ropes, combined forces and a good rejoice for vandalism. A very martial showdown. Bring it down to block the street with it buddies! At first I thought it was a lynch mob ripping apart a sympathizer of the privatizing group. Whilst I was still watching the spectacle with curiosity and ravishment, two women from our bus started to dismantle the barbed wire. Quickly back into the bus and on we go. But we didn’t make it very far since the village people (mostly consisting of old man and women) had already pulled the concrete pillar onto the street. Final stop. A brief discussion, no chance to get further, reverse gear. We have to take a detour through the mountains.

We continued via small roads. Inside the bus outrage spread. The words “taking pictures” and “denouncing” were heard. In general: The people on strike had my sympathy. They are doing it for a higher purpose, fighting for their rights, i like that. Even if they are overtravel a little. You cannot make an omelette without breaking the eggs… While the discussion was ongoing we were stuck again already. This time in the middle of a small village, in front of us we had a pile of debris and 150 meters behind that the street was torn open. The next blockade. Could also be road works. Another discussion. Finally a farmer showed us a way around that, through even worse “streets” and fields. On the last part of the detour we had to fill a trench with stones so that the bus could drive over it and in the end the farmer received 1 Sol from every passenger for the fabulous escort.

After gravel road we had arrived on the normal street again. Until the next village. Here the community had also proclaimed collective resistance. Of course. The police was already there, discussing. Same game, a detour. Looking for another way. Meanwhile we were in a convoy of 4 cars, including an ambulance car. Somehow we made it through, at one time we had to push the ambulance car out of a field and fill holes with stones again, so that we could pass. At least you could find stones everywhere on the streets today. But also glass shards.

Hitchhiking in Peru means principally paying.

Eventually we arrived at the bus’ final destination, I gave the driver the money I had received and decided to head for the bank and eat something. It was a beautiful sunny day, I was looking forward to the next 70 km and wondered how this spectacle would continue. I got out of the city with a ride from a taxi. After that with two old Peruvian woman in traditional dresses and an even older man. I somehow knew that they would want money. When I got out of the car the old man held out his hand and I gave him my last change. Puh, done. But it wasn’t going to be that easy all day. One mototaxi (three wheels, small cabin, kind of “Alberto-Pizza”-Mobil) was picking up an old woman and she most kindly invited me to hop on. To the next city. In general a good lift and I pointed out several times that I had no money. The old lady however had the voice of a commanding officer, so I couldn’t “not” get in. After we arrived she shortly remarked: “Now pay.” Resistance useless. But I didn’t have any… oh wait, some Bolivian change. Order taken. And the driver was satisfied. I have to add that I don’t get in if it is clear that I have to pay. Here although I got in believing they would take me for free and i didn’t want to be an asshole. I was figuring how hard it is in Peru. Especially today.

Again I walked through the city. Jumping onto a motorbike. I asked clearly where he was going. He continues silently. Again I asked where he was going. He took me straight into the pampa to the next blockade. As I get off the bike he asks for money. Again. Damn. Hey, I don’t have change (just paper money) … oh there … another coin. I gave him 5 Sol, about 10 times the amount he asked for, he could easily get a meal for that. For that amount I could have paid a taxi to Puno and he was doing good business riding his bike for 5 minutes. After realizing my generous donation I sympathetically clapped on his shoulder and walked away towards the road block. Whatever. I had no more change and didn’t want to give money to anyone anymore. That was clear. At the blockade I greeted friendly and told them where I was going. I was offered food (first I thought they want food) but continued. The first motorbike stops. We debate. I tell him that I have no money, he says he needs gasolina. 5km further? 1 km further, fine for me. At the end he leaves me standing on the road. Come on… 1km to the next village? No more money for rides today, suckers! Although most Peruvians don’t really ask for money but pitifully point at their gas tanks giving you the puppy-eyed look. Not the usual strategy. Hard to resist.
Two more motorbikes. One understood, the other didn’t. “Sorry man, don’t have no money for you.” Change was gone and I had to keep my principles. But it was okay, he understood. Another blockade, friendly greeting the people. “Why is there no traffic today? Hrhr, I know, I know. Joking. Good luck!” They did not understand my humor. Then I had my most favored ride of the day. Another motorbike. He was going pretty far. He gave me a ride just noting “Jump on!” as I told him the thing about money. Close to his hometown we met his son (the kids also made a blockade, earning some coins) and continued.

High running feelings

We headed for his town and at the entrance we found the yet biggest protesting crowd. About 50 people, ⅔ of them hanging around on the near field, the rest at the blockade. They went crazy as soon as they saw me on the bike. “Amerikanski, Amerikanski!” “No, Alleman.” Shaking hands like a young president, but the situation started to get out of hand quickly. Not for me but for my driver. They thought he was a taxi making profit from the protest. Didn’t want to let him pass although we met at least three other motorbikes that had passed the blockade before. Now they claimed it closed, fucking pricks. I watched them for a minute but then I got off trying to get involved.
He was the most nice driver of the whole day and now he had to take shit from 3-4 upset wannabe-Hitlers. I tried to explain the situation. Somehow nobody really listened to me but I think they understood that he was taking me for free. Pulling around on the motorbike. Small acts of violence, me standing next to my driver, about two feet taller than most of them spreading authority.

In the background a hateful woman, unstoppably bitching from the beginning. In between several people from the field had joined our “conversation” and a handful field-woman started to discuss with the venomous lady. The situation escalated and nobody knows why. I told the newcomers that he was no taxi to generate some support for him. At some point they told me that I could get through, but the motorbike cant. I felt so bad for the driver that I stayed. Chaos was unleashed.

The spiteful lady suddenly had an incredibly huge rock in her hand and – to my utter confusion – threatening one of the older bystanders, finally throwing it at him. As she picked up the next rock one of the wannabe-Hitlers. stepped in. The two of them start to fight. The people from the fields had finally joined the party. Screams, noises and chants from everywhere, everybody watching the situation. Reminded me of the Venezuelan border. At some point it was too much for me. My driver was putting on his helmet, I thanked him and excused me for the situation that I got him into. In a way that all of them could see it. Then I turned my back on them and continued.

Slightly pissed I headed for Puno, walking. My solidarity had been taken down a notch through this pointless despotism. That is really not fair, they should rather continue taking down street lanterns. But 150 meters further at the next road block I was cheered up again. About 15 people were standing around… playing dodge-ball. They spread so much joy that I also felt better. Keep on friends! Vive la restistance!

I am Hitchhiking without money, Muchachos!

After another motorbike ride I was 27km before Puno. I could reach it before dawn, walking. Although I had been on foot for 4-5 hours already today and they felt tired. A taxi stops. “Where to?” “Puno. come on, come on.” “Wait, I have no money.” “What do you mean, ‘No money’?” “Well, no money. Can I still join you?” He patted his seat as if he was giving a dog a sign to sit down. He started driving, very slowly. He wasn’t sure about the ‘no money’ story. “10 Sol to Puno.” he offered. “Sorry man, no money. I walk and hitchhike.” The concept of hitchhiking is not really present in the people’s minds. Reluctantly he continues driving me around. Three men jump in. “Puno?” “Yes, Puno. 3 Sol.” Damn fraudster, wanted to sell it to me for 10. The men somehow knew me from one of the blockades from before. Told the driver that I came with a motorbike and was walking. Seems there were not many gringos on the road that day. I had build up some reputation.
The driver was definitely no nice person to put it mildly. “You want to walk, you want to walk?”, he asked me. I think he was testing me. Fact is, I really do not mind to get out and walk if he doesn’t want to give me a ride. I don’t want to push anybody. And i am taking it seriously with my “Hitchhiking Around the World”- challenge. Getting more and more bugged by the situation and another paying passenger standing ready next to the street I decided, not without relief, to finally get out of the car and continue walking. I was tired. Every step was painful. But still satisfied to not be riding that taxi cunt. Only 20 km left. Seeing Puno in front of me was encouraging. One car passed, a taxi didn’t want to take me. That was the traffic of 45 minutes. And that even without roadblocks…?? These moments are the trials of patience on my journey. In the end two friendly Peruvians gave me a lift in there China-car restoring my faith in humanity. Puno, there I was. The following day I would go another 80 km north to start Operation Cargo-Train-Hopping.

About the end…

There is one thing missing here. The Death road. Was a day’s ride. In the beginning I thought there would be no traffic. Highlights were a Jeep giving me a ride on the roof. For the Death Road I managed to flag down a taxi to La Paz. We drove only for one hour on the so called Death Road, after that on paved road. Was kind of disappointing. The road is more beautiful, older and atmospheric then the Yungas roads which I did the days before. Principally similar, 200-300 meter deep drop-offs, constantly in danger of death and gorgeous. But since I criss-crossed through the whole Yungas this part of the death road was like the pseudo-cherry one the Black-Forest Cherry-Cake. Afterwards I crossed La Paz in a three hour “I – eat – all – street – food – that – I – pass – since – I – have – so – many – Bolivianos – left”-hike, hitchhiked a truck, again experiencing a blown tire, finally being dropped in Copacabana by a friendly couple where I found the 2,20€ Alementejo with the nice old lady, that painted this terrible evil image of our planet.

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Der Beitrag Day of the Blockade. Hitchhiking within the collective Resistance of Peru erschien zuerst auf Warm Roads.

General

Since 20th October 2014 i hitchhiked more than 36968,2 km. I had more than 405 Lifts, had to wait in average 23 minutes and 34 seconds and waited in total 182 hours and 39 minutes (which is about 7,5 days). I don´t wanna miss any of those minutes.

The Best

Is…Tenerife. 21 lifts i catched together with Hanna on this beautiful island. 8 minutes and 12 seconds we had to wait in average. I think Lanzarote was even better, but it was before i started with my documentation.
For South America the country with the best statistics is Ecudaor. 14 minutes and 30 seconds in average, till a car stopped and picked me up. 21 lifts in total and nearly 1000 km might not be that representative. But anyway.

The Positive Suprise

Brazil felt like Spain and Italy together. Totally shit. But the numbers speak another message. 15 minutes and 15 seconds average waiting time are close to the values of Ecuador. I catched 44 Lifts and did 6550 km through Brazil, which has definitely a higher represantation than Ecuador. Feelings might be wrong, numbers aren´t in this case. I don´t know how this can be so good, but during my Brazil crossing i felt like i had to walk at least one hour for every lift. Seems like i didn´t.

Mistaken

Totally overrated was Argentina on the other hand. For me one of the best country for hitchhiking in South America. Probably because of the Free WiFi in the gas stations and the comftable mix of warm roads, acceptable food, long ways and Internet. But the numbers are quite sobering. 34 minutes and 50 seconds average waiting time is the second worst for all my countries so far. I have to add, that i did alot of night hitchhiking in Argentina and this might have affected this value. With 8045 km it is also the country which i hitchhiked the biggest distance in. Also 84 lifts represent a big part of my catched cars so far.

The Worst

Definitely Colombia. Not even in the stats, but also how it felt. Don´t get me wrong, Colombia is a beautiful country, nice people, stunning landscape but moving here is just a pain in the ass. 48 minutes average waiting time. Can´t get worser. Allthough i had only in Venezuela less lifts than in Colombia. 943 km is the least distance i did from all countries in South America. But honestly, i doubt that this stast would get better if i make more distance here. Just a feeling. The reasons for this „hitchhiking-disaster“ im going to discuss in my „Hitchhiking in… – Colombia“ article.

My Secret Favourite…

…for hitchhiking in South America is not Chile…..but Uruguay. 88 Lifts: Its the country where i had the most cars and with 2689 km we find it in the upper midfield of the distances. The average waiting time was with 19 minutes and 42 seconds quite good. Even better if we take in account, that most of the time i was with Ralf together as a men/men team. Fucking good time, good job buddy. Also the country where i hitchhiked my first Cargo Train (hitchhiked and not hopped) and beside Syria the place where i got the most of my lovely Pick-Up rides. Unfortunately riding with Pick-Ups is freshly banned by the government, but let´s hope, that the Uruguayans take this law with the same „We don´t give a shit“-attitude as they take the rest of their lifes and still stop to pick up hitchhikers. Just so much fun there.

This table is fucking nice, isnt it?

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Der Beitrag Hitchhiking in South America – Statistically conclusions of my South America crossing erschien zuerst auf Warm Roads.