Anyone who wants advice on this trip or who wants to take on a similar adventure DO IT!!! If you would like any advice from us please email us from the link under “contact us”.

We have traveled through Asia on a bike as well as Europe and met people from every country I can think of except for the smaller African countries. But one thing is certain and without any disrespect for any other country on this amazing planet of ours, I have never been so glad or felt so lucky to be a New Zealander.

Signing off
Silas & Angela

Large areas of the region were being evacuated with little response from the locals who didn’t want to risk losing their land, cattle and houses to other people. The medics on the road were giving out free information packs to locals who refused to leave. There are 10,000 people in direct line of a lava flow and 400,000 likely to be effected depending on the severity of the blast.

So unsurprisingly we didn’t take a day off in El Pasto but got up at 5:30am the next morning and rode 180km climbing 2,000m altitude and well out of the risk zone. We saw military in trees and at entry and exit points of tunnels and bridges on the way, but we were more concerned about getting clear of that smoking Mountain that looked as if it was following us down the road puffing with smoke and occasional lava.

Back into the swing of touring cycling though coffee country was like heaven. Coffee as far as the eye could see with the occasional fruit stall selling fresh “every tropical fruit imaginable”. Then following coffee scented valleys and rivers we arrived in Medellin, a beauty of a city half way up the country and to our delight a Kiwi owned and run hostel called “The Black Sheep” full of Kiwis and Aussies. They were and are, apart from a Danish couple, the only other tourists we have seen in Colombia and made for a good break from riding. Though as we all know meeting up with Kiwis and Aussies while travelling is not always great for recovery.

Off again on the bikes and Ange wasn’t feeling the best. I suggested that her dancing on the table the night before may be playing a part though it has never effected her riding before. She then got a rash and after consulting the guide book and a prescription from a doctor we realised it was Dengue fever. So riding next to a river which was also in the malaria risk zone (which I didn’t want to catch for a second time) and having Angela with Dengue in 35 degree heat with nowhere to stop but high risk guerilla attack zones where traffic by law was not allowed after 6:00pm, we decided to plod on. Ange being hard as nails did not complain and in 3 days started to feel better.

Then as fast as we entered Colombia we arrived at the Caribbean coast. Amazing. We stopped and I just stared, after 14,282km we are at the other end of South America. Now while looking out over the Caribbean sea filled with a sense of pride and a faint sadness at the possibility of the tour drawing to an end. I remember looking south over the Southern ocean 8 months ago basically shitting myself and wondering if Ange would last more than the first month before telling me to bugger off and flying back to the UK.

We did get into Cartagena just in time to try and catch the rugby in Buenos Aires. In my desperate enthusiasim to try and find a bar that had ESPN+ I ran into a rather dark and dingy bar and consulted the barman not registering the 40 locals fixated to a bull fight on the only TV in the room who also had mounds of empty beer bottles on there tables. The barman gave me the remote and I hastily flicked through the channels. After a deep roar grew from the crowd I turned around, felt weak at the knees and tried to explain that NZ were playing Argentina in Rugby. They did not take to this warmly and suggested I put it back on the bull fight mainly by sign language. I swiftly adhered and ran briskly back to the hostel.

A couple of days off riding now as we await the arrival of the mighty Dave and Emma two friends and both Glasto crew members. So celebrating my 30th in Colombia with 4 glastos we thought a good bottle of wine and a game of cards will certainly go down a treat.

Interesting reading on the Galeras Volcanoe

http://www.reliefweb.int/rw/rwb.nsf/db900SID/RURI-6P9PM3?OpenDocument

So in Quito we have found ourselves with some time up our sleeves and after a day to sort out the paper work we were off to Mindo, a small village in the Jungle, cool. This has been the – people wise, best part of our trip. After 5 hours of descending through tropical forrest we were spotted on bikes as we rode in and directed to “la casa de Diago and Viviana” who are also cyclists. Where we stayed in paradise for 2 weeks. On the second day we were invited to a bamboo farm where a local Ecuadorian couple we met were going to pick bamboo for their new house. We helped pick the bamboo, clean the bamboo in a river then brought the these great specimens to their new home in the trees. To celebrate, a BBQ and rock pool building ceremony in the river next to where the house will be built.

I’ll spare the details of the next two weeks but it was awesome and I have never felt so welcomed or refreshed in my life. The people don’t really have any money but everything works out, people help each other. Houses don’t need to be locked and often don’t have doors and no one goes hungry. There is no bank and you don’t often see money change hands. It just all works out.

When I was cleaning bamboo with Rose and Armondo in the river for their new house and saw how happy everyone was I couldn’t help but feel a bit stupid for getting upset about loosing an Ipod. Anything material suddenly seemed like a waste when you could build your own bamboo house in the jungle, pick fruit from the trees and laugh with your friends.

When we left after 2 weeks at Diago and Vivianas we had to insist that they took some money for all the food we ate and accommodation. I almost had to hide it before they would accept it. There were nearly a few tears but Angela promised me we will visit them again. When we rode through town almost everyone knew us and waved. Some even rode with us on there bikes to the top of the steep climb out of town.

Back in Quito we now bump into people we know and feel like locals. We are staying in an apartment with friends we met in Mindo who have 5 bikes on the wall in their lounge and ride every morning in a mtb park next to their house, my dream flat! Though 2h with the hammer down at 2,800m altitude sure cleaned out my lungs this morning.

So I would like to say thank you to whoever nicked our bag – we have made lifetime friends here in Ecuador who we will never forget.

Hope all is well with you all round the world, and after 3 and a half years of travelling only 55 days to NZ waaaahhhhhhooooooooo.

Galapagos Islands if you get a chance to go, are awesome, just so much life in the water though the islands themselves are very volcanic and seemingly lifeless in places. After finding an airline which flies to one of the smaller islands nearly half the price of the others, we arrived on San Cristobal island and met a Kiwi who owned a shop there and sorted us out no end. The next day we went snorkeling with him and swam with hammer head sharks, white tip sharks, Galapagos sharks, sting rays, manta rays, turtles and more fish than you could shake a stick at. Bloody good really.

San Cristabel is a good stop off point for sailors on their way from Panama through to the Marquises Islands, French Polynesia and of course mighty NZ (an adventure in the planning). March, April, May is the time to get through, missing the cyclones etc, so we met loads of sailors while we were there who offered to take us fishing and sail between the islands while drinking ice cold beer and cooking fish on the BBQ. Not a bad time had by all. Once we were about to leave the islands on our flight back to Quito we met captain Dave, who asked if we would be keen to sail to Easter Island. I have always wanted to go to Easter Island and on a 16m racing yacht who could resist! So on the boat we went. The first day was very pleasant, light favorable winds and calm seas, then the adventure began. The winds picked up and we found out that the captain suffered from chronic sea sickness and he went to bed for basically the first week. Angela with her iron stomach was on cooking duty. Even in the roughest of seas she was able to fry up a big feed using her now incredible strong legs to pin herself into one corner of the ship’s galley while I sailed the boat and the captain slept in his bunk. We then entered a high which meant motoring, calm waters, the captain surfacing and I read 5 novels in 10 days, a personal record! In fact I have never read one novel in that time. Actualy I can’t remember reading a novel? Heading toward the southern ocean I was on night watch, Angela was boiling the kettle and the captain surprisingly had decided to hit the sack. There were some dark clouds on the horizon and a front was on its way. The winds grew and so did the massive southern ocean swells that seemed to engulf the boat. At the peak of the storm Angela and I were taking watch from inside so as not to get drenched up on deck. Then we got hit by a bugger of a wave that sent us right over. When I say right over I mean right over! The cutlery drawer in the ship’s galley flew from down on one side of the boat and landed on the top shelf on the other side. The rice on the stove landed on the roof and I lay on the inside wall of the boat looking sideways at my bed wondering how strong fiberglass was. The mast hit the water and we popped back up but it was a good roll with plenty of water coming into the hull. So there we were bailing water out a boat in the pitch black in a howling storm wondering why we were not on a plane to Quito on a flight we had already paid for. But eventually the storm did abate and we got the water down to ankle deep. For the rest of the passage a leak opened up above my bunk and would poor like a tap onto my face about once every hour and a half. The captain assured me there were no leaks and that the boat was water tight and I had to admit there was not much water getting out.

Now that we are on dry land after 16 days without seeing land there are some very funny points to the adventure and we were never really in any danger but a quote sticks in my mind that we heard from a French sailor while in Galapagos islands. “When adventuring around the world it doesn’t really matter where you are going, but who you are with and how you are getting there”.

So, we are now in Valparaiso and charged with the task of getting to Easter Island and back to Quito to pick up our bikes. A fun challenge, though after spending 7 months in South America and never once catching a bus or any other form of public transport other than the odd took-took we are struggling to fit into the more conventional style of traveling that faces us. Having to deal with time of day, day of the week and the ludicrous notion of paying to get from A, to B is really going to seem foreign. Though we do have a couple of days to psyche into it and some alternative plans…….

I expect this to find you all in fine fettle, smacking the daylights out of whatever you are cranking in at present. Remember to start out at 100% and gradually pick up the pace and if anyone asks you to sail 3,000 nsutical miles with them this week be sure to ask if they are going to be awake and check their boat for leaks before venturing out!

Cheers
Silas

Reaching the border of Ecuador we entered banana country, suddenly the poverty stricken Peru changes to fertile plantations and a chance to take a breath.

With the advanced irrigation systems taking advantage of the rainy season in the mountains and the hot season on the coast, banana growing is at its finest. This for me was like visiting the Guinness factory in Dublin. With bananas growing as far as the eye could see on both sides of the road and stalls set up for taste tests I soon became a conosuer of the Bonita product I grew up on. Sampling bananas is an art in Ecuador and selecting a bunch of fine quality essential. Product selection is based on color, aroma, peel ability, shape, texture and taste. I found plenty of water around the tree, strong roots, lush green leaves and a younger tree provide the ideal banana. The larger firmer bananas were better for cooked delicacies and delights. I will be holding tasting sessions and tutorials on my return to NZ, dates yet to be released, booking essential!

It was then that the small contours in our map that we had overlooked came to haunt us. What we thought was going to be hammering through flat Ecuador to Quito (which is at 2,800m altitude surrounded by volcanos) has been rather hilly. We began by climbing from the coast to over 4,000m. Two days after doing everything possible to get out of the sun we weathered hail storms, torrential rain and freezing conditions. It was on the second day after having mild sun stroke that we climbed nearly to the snow line, then descended for 20min which was enough to give Angela mild hypothermia. We stopped by the road and I had to put her in a sleeping bag for 45min before heading for Riobamba our closest town. Having to hammer as hard as we could just to stay warm.

Then a hilly 174km under fork lightning and a deafening thunder storm, around through and over countless volcanoes saw us ride straight past Quito and reach our finish line the Mitad Del Mundo! (middle of the world). A large monument marks the equator. Tired, cold and in pouring rain we celebrated and remembered our first day in Tierra Del Fuego where we were caught in a snow storm, I had broken all the spokes in my front wheel and I wondered if we would ever make it. Things have come full circle now and we are happy, sad, confused and relieved to have completed what we had set out to do five months and 20 days ago.

Total distance ridden 12,121km in 682 hours through 3 deserts, 7 official crossings of the Andes highest peak 5,050m altitude, 5 countries, 1 fatal illness, 7 flat tires, 1 new language and countless life changing experiences. We have a running video documentary of the trip, countless photos and about 50 years of stories to our credit; have kept to our 10 pound a day budget to our debit, not that we really care how much we have left at the end.

Thank you to all those that have sponsored our cancer research Auckland fund and for all the emails and kind words during the trip. We would have felt incredibly isolated without you.

We do have a small problem as we have finished what we thought would take a year in less than half the time….. For now it´s a week or so off to collect our thoughts and work out a plan.

Start out at 100% and gradually pick up the pace!

Cheers
Silas & Ange xxooxxoo

So after leaving Lima on our way up the coast where they advise a Police escort, we get through all the ¨high risk¨ areas no worries. So with my eye on the road and not on my palate, somewhere along the line I ate something dirty and contracted typhoid without knowing (of course I had the vaccine – I guess I´m the 1%). Happened to be the same day we rode 100km through a desert at a cracking pace with a German cycling machine we met with legs like Kauri trees. With typhoid it seems your stomach just stops completely. Anything you drink just sits in your stomach and you don´t hydrate. Great fun riding but towards the end of the day wasn´t feeling 100% and with my gut back to the same size it was in London I thought time for a check up. Luckily the beach town of Pacasmaya is JUST big enough for a hospital and was a short tuk-tuk ride from the hostel, so off we went….

This hospital has a pay as you go system and with each consultation, blood test, injection or pill you take, you do just that. But not always in the hospital. After they worked out I had a fever by me telling them, with the sweat and high temperature I asked for a drip. The doctor agreed this was a good suggestion and gave Angela a prescription for IV fluid, needle etc. Unfortunately the hospital did not stock any of this which meant Angela took a ride to find it all at various chemists. Sort of like reality TV, can you find the antidote before the life threatening disease gets you? Angela passed the first challenge and returned with the goods. With about 4 attempts in each hand the nurse finally found a vain after switching to the wrist area. Then Angela’s second test came, with a skyrocketing temperature an injection was needed. With new prescription in hand she was off. Chemists were closing but she rose to a new level and on return could almost speak fluent Spanish. I was particularly distressed as Angela passed the rather large needle to the same nurse who gave me the pin cushion hand. I then got the ‘roll onto your front’ sign, I knew where that injection was going – I was doomed.

Once I recovered and the doctor returned I thought right, time to start finding out what I actually have. A blood test is in order. Perfect I thought, I have the blood right here, surely this is easy. But unfortunately there was no one there who could take blood until the morning and I was not going to tempt the nurse to have another go on my arm, so round one over. The next day went relatively smoothly in comparison. In the morning at about 10am I received the ‘pay as you go’ blood test then later they diagnosed typhoid. Very common they said, and fatal without treatment, punctures a hole though the gut apparently, nasty. After the doctor suggested another night in the pay as you go hospital we asked for the antibiotic prescription and I discharged myself. Any future 5 hour wait in a NZ hospital will be worth it.

The total cost came to about 200 Sols which is more than many Peruvians earn in a year and many in their lives. I couldn´t help but feel I had cheated death in the eyes of any onlookers, and realised why they have armed security guards on the gate. Typhoid is very common, very easily treated but not all can afford treatment. I can see a problem in this system. When we left I remembered the elderly couple quietly arguing with the guard as we had been arriving and I had walked through without being questioned if I could pay or not. This little experience was educational and helped me understand the frustrations of people that we could almost feel in the air of some towns and in the eyes of some Peruvians.

We are now well and bursting at the seams to continue the riding after one day off (though we may take two). Six hundred kilometres from Ecuador and the last country on our official trip. Wahhoooo

Hope you are all cranking and giving it 100%
Cheers
Silas

Under the circumstances I think we were received quite well. We were humble, gracious and thankful always, a few times a little scared but all in all we never had any problems that cost us over a pound or got us hurt, but I would recommend this area by helicopter for the faint hearted.

Pisco is the name of this town and putting the hammer down non stop to Quito is the plan! We do have one detour in Mancora where we plan to do some surfing and maybe kite surfing. Well actually we could be side tracked at any stage, at ony one of the hundreds of resorts we ride past on the way, but we will be going towards Quito!

As we ride off the Alti plano of Bolivia into Peru at 3,500m altitude the Peruvian landscape is so harsh the mountains are more like sheer faces, with valleys plunging deep into the Alto Plano. Trees seemingly defy gravity, growing on top of each other up steep gorges with thin string like waterfalls and rivers lining the rock faces and river valleys. Suddenly the land looks like it has been chopped up with a giant axe and what used to be 20km riding in a straight line is now 120km of switchbacks down and up the other side.

We slowly grovel our way up the a nameless mountainside in light rain on a mixture of mud and boulders weaving back and forth across the road. Constantly being called ‘gringos’ which the Spanish dictionary describes as being “unintelligible gibbering yank” with obvious negative connotations, but I believe has come to mean anyone with white skin. I casually hurl a rock at a dog careering towards us with teeth shining and ribs sticking out. Some kids run after us asking for money, as we near the town of Ocras – about 100 inhabitants and not a lot else. This is where we will spend the night as there is only an hour of light left. We ask for directions to the only hostel in town which looks like it has not seen too many tourists and luckily for us the only two beds in the hostel are available. The spacious room offers a nice view of the sky through the roof and great ventilation for us to get some rest, “We´ll take it!”

A group of about 10 locals gathers round watching with intrigue as we clamber up and down the steep narrow external steps to the room with our bikes and bags. I spark up the cooker and get dinner under way on the floor as Angela lights some candles and puts up the mosquito net. Then a taste of home as I pull out the Ipod and crank out the killers on the new Hi Fi speakers I bought in La Paz yeaa ee yeaa! After dinner we head down for a shower and find that the tap to control the FREEZING water is on the other side of the building and the shower room is only just big enough to fit inside. A nimble step is required not to fall in the bog in the middle of the floor. So Angela is first to undertake the task ha ha. She gets in and awaits torture as I judge the water pressure by her screams and how much icey water is pouring out the door until she tells me what she will do to me if I don´t turn the water off! After I finish laughing she does the same to me and we both feel much better afterwards and so do the locals.

Off to bed and a quick look at the following day’s ride before falling asleep at about 8:30pm, tired but content under the mosquito net and the stars. The following morning we are woken by the ritual roosters, pigs and dogs outside the door before setting off again up the same mountain and it takes us another three hours to get to the top. It’s carnival time in the region which means water bombs often arrive unexpectedly as we ride through each small town. Even the most poverty stricken find the energy to chuck water at us especially when we are cold. At the two-hours-of-light-to-go mark we look for another place to stay and find a similar town, fantastic wahoo wahoo!

It is amazing the long term effects of war and the tone that it leaves in a country. Having cycled through Cambodia, Vietnam and Lao I have talked to people about the war-torn history of their countries. Although the war of the Pacific involving Bolivia, Peru and Chile was 100 years earlier than the very recent American war in Vietnam, the memory and resentment is very fresh in the minds of the Bolivians I have talked to. Often just saying “I have crossed the border from Chile to Bolivia” has been enough to bring up the resentment they feel inside.

Basically the story of recent war history went like this 1879-83.
1873 – Bolivia and Peru sign an agreement to their borders with each other and Chile without telling Chile.
1878 – Bolivia tries to raise tax on minerals after signing an agreement saying it would not do so for 25 years. Bolivia threatens to confiscate mined property from the Chileans if there is no compliance.
1879 Feb – Chile armed forces occupy Bolivian port of Antofagasta to protect their mining company.
1879 Feb – Bolivia declares war on Chile and asks Peru for help.
1879 April – Chile declares war on Bolivia and Peru.

Then basically the Chilean army hammered Bolivia and Peru. The Chilean army occupied a huge chunk of Bolivia from Antofagasta where the mining port was, all the way down to the Chilean border (effectively all Bolivia’s coast) without too much trouble and then invaded further up the coast into Peru and occupied Lima (the capital) for a time.

1883 – A treaty was signed between Peru and Chile giving Peru some of their land back.
1884 – A treaty was signed between Bolivia and Chile giving Chile ALL of Bolivia’s coast and the Atacama Desert which is very rich in minerals and triggered the initial dispute. Bolivia got a train line built for them by Chile from La Paz to Arica (which was previously Peruvian now Chilean) as compensation for all the land which was once Bolivian.

Bolivia not surprisingly was not happy being a landlocked country. Having no chance against Chile they tried to break out through the La Plata river system to the Atlantic coast on the other side of South America. Now they had a land dispute with Paraguay, and funded by American banks they went into what led to the Chaco War (1932-35). Ultimately Paraguay won taking land off Bolivia that was once Bolivian. A treaty was then signed giving Paraguay almost all the land they were fighting for and was mediated by Argentina who also made quite a bit financially out of the deal.

So Bolivia is left with much less land and loads of debt. As you can imagine there where a lot of pissed off Bolivians, not so much in the bigger touristy towns where people tend to get on with it, but in the small industrial towns like the one I am in now – that’s where the resentment lies.

A new prime minister has just been signed in – they tend to change frequently, and apparently a standard policy for each new prime minister to push is a determined demand and promise to retrieve the land lost to Chile in the war of the Pacific. There is no chance of this, and unfortunately not much chance for Bolivia as far as I can make out from talking to people, until they are led in the right direction.

I know it sounds cliche but there truly is not a day that goes by where I do not feel incredibly lucky to be born in the land of the long white cloud.

From Bolivia
Silas