Puerto Maldonado

 Claus the owner of Kuporo Lodge cane down the hill promptly at seven to let us out. He’s spent most of his life in Peru but still English riding his bicycle every morning. He warned us to be careful as the government is going after the illegal mining and logging and tensions are high. 

We got going and I have to admit there was some trepidation in my mind. Layne and I have driven some odd spots in our thirty years of marriage, Bosnia after the war as well as Albania in the Balkans. I’ve seen war up close when violence was in Central America and I was threatened by a youngster with a knife once in St Petersburg, Florida actually. I got a black eye that time so I guess I was lucky. This time I had Layne and Rusty to worry about. The countryside nevertheless started out beautiful. 

But there were roadworks of course. 

The area we had to pass through was about an hours drive and my plan was not to stop no matter what. Strip mining is how they make money but the government won’t recognize their right to mine. Thats why they were striking across Peru a few weeks ago shutting roads down. 

And now here we were driving through their front yard. iOverlander:

 It was obviously a very poor part of the world, few cars and lots of motorcycles and tricycles and trash and people stacking around.

The countryside had changed completely by now as we descended to less than a thousand feet. We turned a corner avid could see treetops to the horizon, the flatlands were there. Temperatures rose from a perfect 73 degrees at Claus’s lodge to 95 degrees in the flatlands.

There were signs along the road advising businesses that buy cacao seeds and then those that sell rice by the sack. It’s all agriculture in this part of Peru where 5% of the population lives in more than half of the land in the Amazon jungle. 

The countryside reminds me a bit of Florida, road on a levee, lots of water and miles of big leafed trees and thick grass. 

I have to most of this area is trash free but in the area of the illegal mines it was a different story: 

Open face mines visible from the highway. I can’t imagine what’s going on out of sight.

Gasoline sold by the jug surprised me as there are a great many gas stations, too many in our opinion. Layne the lawyer thought the gas stations looked like money laundering operations. And here they are selling gas at the side of the road.  

A Peruvian postal clerk moonlighting by selling ice sorbet sticks of some mysterious fruit we’d never heard of. She and her husband work in Cusco but will be retiring to her village where she was born, San Lorenzo on the highway north of Puerto Maldonado. We enjoyed her ices, she enjoyed a tour of our home and we got back on her way. 

Florida or Peru?

We arrived safely and without incident at the regional capital, Puerto Maldonado. The idea was to find a campground and we had a look at one which had no room to park which I thought was weird. 

The town didn’t hold much appeal so I said let’s go for the border which was three hours away. We got lost in town when Google sent us astray and got jammed in a dead end. A live cop helped us out and we took north out of town toward Iñapari at the border. 

The yellow jackets are motorcycle taxis; you hire one for the ride of your life. 

The more motorcycles the poorer the community is in my observation. 

Over the Billinshurst Bridge and north to Brazil 150 miles away. It’s the second longest bridge in Peru at about 750 yards and it was named for a Peruvian President (Billinghurst? Who knew?) and it was completed in 2011 at a cost of 26 million dollars. 

The highway to the border at Iñapari was in great condition and there was hardly any traffic so we should have made excellent time. But every time we got to 60 mph we seemed to come across a speed bump. There were dozens of them, well marked with these damned white stripes. 

But we got to the campground an hour before dark around five o’clock on Wednesday. I was exhausted and we all were. Rusty had a huge dinner and passed out. We had a cooks night off. 

Dinner with a view over the lake hence came the paco fish:

Our spot for the night. Free with dinner. A little warm but very quiet and peaceful. Good night. 

Descent To The Jungle

 We have been traveling through remote areas of eastern Peru and setting up Starlink has been too much trouble honestly after a days driving in high insect jungle camps…oh yes we’re back in high humidity and lots of no see’ums. But let’s go back to Monday morning when we said goodbye to Josue and his lovely hostel in the valley at 12,000 feet, cool crisp and sunny.

Our goal a modest 83 miles away was Kuporo Lodge which promised a lovely refuge at 2500 feet altitude in the jungle. No more waking up to cold mornings. The only problem we faced was a pass at 15,400 feet before we got there. 

I was I will admit a bit apprehensive about the drive, even higher than yesterday’s 13,750 foot pass with lots more hairpins.

Early on it was obvious the mountain road takes its toll. 

The big disappointment was the paucity of interesting roadside food stands. Layne looked at me like I was ill when I sprang a buck fifty for a jello pudding cup. Hey, I grew up in an English boarding school and my taste buds got warped (as well as my sense of humor). 

It was a long slow drive up but the road remained perfectly paved as we drove between 15 and 30 mph.

We saw at least half a dozen trucks struggling with roadside repairs and a tow truck hooking up a tour bus.

In fact when we stopped to cool our brakes a tow truck stopped by to see if we were okay. I liked that giving us a sense we weren’t far from help. 

Notice also how vegetation is making a come back, and we were glad to see it as we descended toward the Amazon Basin. We are a little tired of the desert. 

Lunch was taken in a small roadside diner for three dollars each for soup and main. I had chicken while Layne had a pork chop. 

The television was showing the news  with a report of a clash between Peru and Colombia. The two countries are arguing over Santa Rosa Island with 3,000 inhabitants in the Amazon River. So far no shooting but stupidity is endemic all over the world.

Bolivia had inconclusive ejections but the socialist left which been running the country has collapsed and won’t be in the October runoff. I only care as next year we want to have another go at visiting and a centrist government may be more US friendly. And maybe the people of Bolivia will have a chance at some economic improvement and they need it as the pace is a corrupt basket case.

The road had a whole load of wash outs with landslides which held us up over and over again but only for ten minutes or so as the traffic on the InterOceanic highway was surprisingly light. 

The weird thing is you will always see a sign at an each roadblock announcing its illegal to sound your horn. But guess what? When they get impatient, Peruvian drivers stomp on their horns and they get impatient 15 seconds after the flagged stops them.

I asked the flagged lady how she coped without a toilet and she said they…send her relief in the form of a shift change. “Prohibido Tocar Claxon” means don’t sound your horn. I told her how funny I thought it was that they thought she could do anything about it. 

It was early afternoon but we had decided to stop early after only 83 miles. It was tiring driving but there was another issue ahead. 

If I say the road ahead is dangerous I trust you will appreciate that I am not in the habit of overstating the case but the road to Puerto Maldonado runs through an area notorious for banditry and violence  other overlanders have reported seeing signs saying foreigners go home. Our plan was to stop for the night before that section of road and then get through it early in the day next day. We found a place that sounded great just off the highway.

When we arrived the owner Claus originally from Czechoslovakia thirty five years ago showed us a gravel lot with no amenities on it. Apparently nowadays the showers and WiFi are for the rental cabins up the hill. But that was okay, for $8:50 we had a safe place to spend the night out of sight of the illegal miners and loggers in the world outside. 

Luckily we are self contained and it was no problem not having facilities but I got a horrible reminder we were out of the desert. I spoke with Claus and paid and got back aboard GANNET2 and my legs were on fire absolutely agonizing. After that we napped, ran the rooftop a/c, read our books, watched some TV, let Rusty out as he is immune to biting insects and eventually all three of us went to sleep. It wasn’t actually too hot, around 70 degrees and we got some heavy rain overnight. We were sung and breathing comfortably at 2500 feet. Tomorrow: the danger  zone at the mining township of Mazuko.