Caral Ruins and Lima

Conveniently for Lee, our arrival into Huaraz coincided with the football and so once we found the campsite and said a brief hello to our friends, we headed into the town itself to find a bar. We got into the world's slowest collectivo and so by the time we had eventually arrived into the town we only got to the bar for the second half. Still, there hadn’t been a goal yet and soon with a nice cold beer in hand, and rather angry Lee turned into a happy one. We had contemplated eating out in town but Sim had offered to make her famous pakoras. We had regularly discussed how much we liked her pakoras from the moment we had first tried them, the shared apartment in Cartagena while we waited for our campers to cross the Darien Gap. This would be better than any takeaway we reckoned and so we headed back to the campsite, where in the little kitchen there, we went for round two of great pakoras. We definitely need to up our game as our previous attempts had left a lot to be desired but then that’s probably the difference between having them cooked for you by someone who is actually Indian. 

Eating turned to route planning as we find generally that our travel schedules are roughly aligned. While we would be heading back to the coast the next day, Sim would be staying on the campsite with the dogs letting her (newly broken) hand heal and Kartik would be staying to do some more hiking. It looked fantastic, and perhaps one day we’ll have to return to the North of Peru as it seems already like there was stuff we were missing. Our new timescale didn’t really allow for this though and so the next day we dyed my hair a rather outrageous shade of red which I really liked (this is what happens when you have access to hot showers) and then said our goodbyes to Sim, as Kartik had left in the early hours. From our reasonably high elevation, we planned to hit the coast that evening. 

Due to our luxury showering, we left a little later than we probably should off, but early afternoon we were off. As we were currently at around 3700m and heading for the coast, I  had expected the road to descend. Instead we climbed. Before too long we were surround by that tufty yellow grass, barren rock and snow capped peaks that tells you you have hit 4000m. And still we went up. This would be some road when it started to descend. 

After an hour or so of steady climb, we reached Laguna Conocoha and took the road to the right, towards the sea. As predicted, it was one steep road. We zigzagged our way sharply downhill, trying very hard not to boil the brakes and passing one truck that had definitely boiled his judging by the clouds of smoke coming out of them.

Before too long, we had dropped about 3000m and the road levelled, now running gently downhill in the valley. Again we had an interesting contrast, between the fertile valley and barren mountains that backed it. Down in the valley to the right of the road grew all kinds of different crops, I spotted bananas, papayas and corn to name a few. Up on the left hand side was nothing but sheer rock, dusty and completely barren, where not even grass would grow. It seemed to have its place though. As we drove on we saw fields of red, laid out before us on the gravel to either side. On closer inspection, this was chillies drying in the sun. acres and acres of them, which I assumed had been grown in the valley and brought outside it just a little to make use of the powerful sun. 

The sun was now starting to dip below the buildings as we approached the coastal town of Barranca. There wasn’t too much in the way of free camping around and we had hoped to park on the seafront here for the night. It was a bigger town than we thought and by the time we reached the bustling malecon it was dark. A small fairground blasted out music while all around it was very busy and very noisy. It didn’t take us long to decide that this would not be a good night and so we debated where to go as there weren’t many other options. As we hung around next to the beach, we asked the police, they told us that it was dangerous here and to move to the other side of town. We tried that. It too seemed to be featuring a large street party, it seemed like there was some kind of festival going on. Clearly, wild camping wasn’t happening tonight and rather grudgingly we drove to the only paid campsite nearby. It was very expensive (£12 a night by our standards) but it would be quiet and secure. The cats could come out and be safe, which in itself is conducive to a good night’s sleep and we knew we wouldn’t be disturbed. Sometimes this is worth paying for too even if you do end up paying for something with a whole load of facilities you don’t need or want. 

Our quiet night meant that we were ready to push on to Peru’s capital, Lima, the following morning. Normally for us, capital cities are expensive and basically involve replacing whatever is currently most broken. This time however, we had a nice meal planned. A very fancy, and for us, rather expensive vegan restaurant that we decided we simply couldn’t pass up on. The last time we had food that fancy was years ago, back in Oaxaca, Mexico. We decided that this would be an early anniversary treat and I had booked us a table at the rather irritatingly named Plant Food + Wine for that evening. 

Before we headed on towards the capital however, we had one stop on the way. We were only a short distance away from the ruins of Caral. This 5,000 year old ancient city,  which holds the title of the oldest known civilization in the Americas, and predates not only the Eygptian pyramids but also any of the Incan ruins we had already seen, was only a 40 minute drive away. It’d be rude not to. 

While it should have only been a short drive, we appeared to have lost all the air out of the shocks again, so we pulled over at a petrol station to refill them. This is sometimes more annoying than you might imagine as a lot of petrol don’t have a working air compressor and the ones that do are a mixed bag in terms of power. This one wasn’t great, but it was better than running on nothing and damaging the shocks as we still needed to buy ourselves a new compressor. Luckily the roads would be pretty good until the capital where we hoped to purchase a new one. Refilling them only takes a second, but the puddle of coolant that had developed under the camper would no doubt take us a bit longer. 

The schrader valve for the shocks is right in the engine bay and this was kind of lucky as it led us to our apparent coolant problem a matter of moments before we lost all the coolant and boiled the engine. A bulging cooling pipe was the cause.

It seemed to have developed a weak point and under the pressure of the operating system, was now twice the size it should be. When I moved it a bit it sprayed a mist of boiling coolant over everything. We were lucky in the fact that there is a little slack in this pipe and we could hopefully cut off the disintegrating end and reattach it again. Now we just had to wait for the engine to cool enough in order to do that, it was a pretty hot day and that was going to take at least half an hour. 

A few other people turned up to use the air compressor while we waited. One couple pulled up next to us. The girl sat in the cab was somewhat concerned about our large puddle. 

“Isn’t that from the engine?” She asked her boyfriend. 

He confirmed that it was indeed coolant. 

“Do you think they’re ok?” She wondered. “You should ask them!” 

Then, after a second of mulling it over, she declared. “They won’t understand you though”

As her boyfriend reappeared at the back van, I offered him the air hose we were parked on top of, asking if he needed to use it in Spanish. He declined, saying he didn’t need it, before getting back into the van and confirming to his girlfriend that we indeed didn’t speak the language. 

At least this had entertained us for long enough that the coolant hose was touchable. We trimmed off the worst part, and refitted the hose before pouring back in the coolant we had managed to catch. And once again, we set off. It’s a good job we had stopped really as not only was it a very hot day, but the road to Caral was particularly horrible and we definitely needed that air.

We turned off the nice tarmac and onto a kind of hard packed clay road. Despite not looking that rough, it was very bumpy. I was pretty sure that the nasty clunky noise wasn’t normally there but it was hard to tell over the excessive rattling of the van in general. Fortunately, it wasn’t a particularly long drive and soon we turned again, onto an even more minor road. Apparently we would not have been able to access this in rainy season, as there was a sizeable river to cross, but at this time of year we picky a rocky route around the large puddles that remained.

On the final approach, we decided to fly Steve before we got there. We were pretty sure it wasn’t allowed but then at least we could play dumb. It seemed like this might be something worth seeing from the air after all. Sure enough, it didn’t take long for someone to come and tell us that drones weren’t permitted, but by then we already had our footage and were ready to start looking at things from the ground. There is no better way than to show the contrast between the fertile lands around the river and the barren mountains than by drone.

We paid a few pounds entrance fee and then got our own private guide, for a further £4. It wasn’t possible to enter without one and in the end, I’m glad that we paid. Whilst there are a few information boards around the site, it didn’t come close to the detailed and informative tour that we received. He explained to us the layout of the town, what the buildings were used for and showed us the places they used to sacrifice offerings to their goods. All in all, it was around an hour long and we thoroughly enjoyed it. 

Now we were ready to get out of the blistering midday sun and continue on towards Lima for our nice meal. Despite the coolant hiccup earlier, we still had plenty of time in hand which turned out to be quiet useful as we hadn’t made it very far back out on the same road when I finally put my finger on the large clunking noise. It was every time I braked. Now that I knew where I was looking it only took a second to see the problem. Our brake calliper had lost one of it’s bolts completely and the other had worked loose. The clunking noise was that every time I braked, the whole calliper swung outwards and hit the inside of the wheel. Luckily for us, it hadn't broken the pipe yet. Even more luckily, I had a bolt that while being a bit long was the same size. These are quite big bolts after all. That meant that while it was still a little on the wobbling side, it couldn’t flap around all over the place. It would take us to the city where no doubt we could find a bolt that was not only the correct size but the correct length. We continued back on the nasty bumpy road, before hitting the lovely smooth motorway that would take us the remaining few hours. 

The wasteland of the desert continued. Sand swirled across the road in front of us and the van swerved from side to side in the unseen gusts of wind that came across the miles of utterly flat and barren land between us and the sea. At least it was an easy drive for the brakes and we made it into the outskirts of the city without any near misses. As is often the case, the outskirts are where the car repair shops are and so as we drove along in the steadily increasing traffic volume, I spotted a bolt shop. Lee got the necessary bolt and I fitted it on the side of the road. This was definitely preferable to continuing on without it the rush hour traffic of the capital city. Cars swerved in and out in front of us, random pedestrians blithely walked into the middle of the road and if that wasn’t enough there were also the stray dogs to contend with. Brakes were a necessity.

After navigating the traffic and making several wrong turns on the sat nav, we arrived at Parque Castilla in the San Isidro. This was supposedly a safe place to leave the vehicle as well as being a relatively quiet and definitely free camping spot in the heart of the city. It was a reasonable sized park, mainly frequented by joggers and dog walkers. Signs telling you not to do stuff lined the side streets. Fine for littering. Fines for noise complaints (practically unheard of in Latin America). From this we deduced that we were in the rich neighbourhood and with 24 security cars patrolling the park we felt fine to leave the van. Due to our many delays that day, we hadn’t made it with too much time to spare. I spent our remaining hour trying to speedily sew zips into the pop top so that the roof could stay up and the cats could be contained while we were out. Then we threw on some nice clothes and piled into an uber. 

Plant Food + Wine is an all vegan michelin star style restaurant. While it may not have attained that rating, that is the kind of food you can expect to be served. It being tiny fancy little portions, we opted to order several things as well as a nice cocktail. The food itself, it’s too horribly expensive, the drinks on the other hand are a fortune. I think that in just that one night we spent nearly £10 on sparkling water, something that is often hard to come by in Peru. Still, it was one of those nights which you know isn’t going to be cheap and you settle in and enjoy the experience. It was truly delicious.

After a lovely evening, we returned to our spot, and considering that it was street parking in the capital city, slept well. The main thing that disturbed me, not purely from a noise perspective but from the very audacity of its existence, was the joggers who merrily started their circuits before 5am. 

The next day, we made a start on some of our to do list. As ever, it included finding parts for Ruby and as normal, we didn’t have much luck. We found the VW parts area and asked around to find the right person. He only had a Brazilian anti roll bar and headlight relay. Neither of which fits ours unsurprisingly. At least, these were both things we could live without.

The next thing, was more important to us and fortunately easier to find. After 4 years of sleeping on the same two inches of foam, it was getting pretty thin and worn out. We got to the point where we woke up with bruised hips in the morning and sore necks too. It had been pretty expensive to buy, but the time had come to replace it. We found a street full of upholstery shops and asked for some more. We had a good chat with one of the ladies, she was very interested in our trip, and after removing all the old pieces she told us to go and ask the guy inside to cut us some more. He told us that he didn’t have any though, sending us around the corner. We put our stuff back inside and were about to drive off when the lady asked what was happening. We told her he said he didn’t have any. She insisted that he did and just didn’t want to serve us. This turned out to be true and soon we had our old bed out on the street as a template to cut the new pieces. This is something that happens to us a lot, being turned away. It makes me wonder how many times they genuinely don’t have it and just how many times they can’t be bothered to serve the foreigners. You’d think in such a money motivated country they’d want the business but apparently they rather not deal with us. 

It didn’t take them long, once they could be bothered, to cut us up some new foam. We were told it’d cost £12 for the lot and our old bed ended up outside on the street. For the dogs, apparently. Rather chuffed at the very cheap new bed, we headed onwards to find the next thing. 

Our search took us to the other side of the city and to the non-touristy market. Now it was getting on a bit in the day and the traffic was starting to get busier. We also decided that we didn’t really want to park and leave the van in this area. We decided we’d come back tomorrow and headed back towards our parking spot for the night. 

We didn’t get too far before being pulled over by the police. He told us some rubbish about not being allowed to drive foreign plated vehicles after 5pm, but gave up on it pretty quickly when we asked him to show us a written copy of that law. Defeated in his first enterprise, he wanted Lee’s license, which he quickly declared to be expired. We explained how dates work and that it was not expired at all. At which point he rather grudgingly waved us on, telling us to drive safely. After this rather pointless stop, we edged our way back to the park in the horrible traffic of a capital city, dodging it’s equally horrible drivers. 

We walked some rather frustrated cats outside for a while and Lee attempt to make Won Tons. We had found the pre-made wrappers in the supermarket and thought that’d this would be rather good. In the end, it resulted in a lot of rage instead. They refused to stick together or hold any fillings like they were supposed to and while to his credit he did produce a tasty meal at the end of it, I’m not sure it’s an experience we will be repeating. 

Again, we had a pretty quiet night apart from the desperate clawing of Aimee as she tried to get out of the pop top. This was on the list for tomorrow morning, we needed to change out our old decrepit velcro for zips. Currently it wasn’t possible to keep the cats in and the roof up, something which is sometimes a problem. 

With this in mind, we decided to head back towards the market we had been to yesterday. Initially, we thought we’d take an Uber but after two days of parking in the shade, we needed to charge up the batteries anyway. We found ourselves some secure parking nearby, and headed into the market.

While it looks like the area used to be a normal block of streets, they have now fenced off a large portion, two streets wide and several more blocks in length. Inside is nothing special, just regular streets and shops. This was apparently where the fabric shops where though and so seemed like the best place to find zips.  Inside, they’ve banned street sellers too and so now only permitted outside the large metal gates that block off each road, they stood in their masses. We stopped for some kind of long sausage pastry and then bought a rather odd quinoa based drink. Now incredibly full, we wound our way through the multitude of sellers and past the section that housed the food market. Here were all kinds of things, people sold bee pollen from huge sacks, the bees still swarming above it. On the other side a little old man sat with chunks of bark. As he cut into the red sappy side, it’d quite literally bled into a bowl. A crowd of people gathered around as he talked about what it was for, some kind of natural remedy I assume. All around people sold what they had. Piles of freshly gathered herbs, sacks of beans and entire pigs heads, were all readily available. It was both fascinating and chaotic.

We keep out the other side of this area, and walked into more regular streets selling clothing and the like. As ever, it was a matter of wandering around to find something, as the majority of places like this don’t list their businesses on google. We had some luck at the end though as I spotted zips hanging in the window of a little shop. In fact it turned out that she only sold two colours of zip by the metre and one of them happened to be ‘vino’ the exactly colour of our pop top. For a few pounds we were able to buy enough to do all the windows. The zips I had hurriedly sewn in before had been two short ones, one on each side of the window. This didn’t bother Aimee as she slid herself through the uncovered top section and escaped anyway. Clearly, we need one continuous piece all round, and now that we had it, it was just a matter of several hours worth of sewing to put it in. A job for a rainy day. 

The final thing to be found was a high pressure air pump. We had bought ourselves a new battery powered compressor to do regular things like tyres, but as it cut out 80psi lower than the shocks maximum pressure, it wasn’t quite enough. We had decided to try and find a pump that would normally be used for the air suspension on bikes, these high pressure pumps would definitely go high enough, if we could find one. As we weren’t really in the right area for this type of purchase, we moved back across the city. Found a different car park, and began hunting. 

We tried a two shops, neither of which had one but both recommended the same alternative. After quite a lot of walking and not much luck, we drove on to the final option, the recommendation. It’s always hard to know whether it’ll be a good recomendation or not, but this time we were in luck. They had a pump that was more than man enough for our suspension. It was a bit expensive, but it would be worth it to give ourselves a bit more of a lift and stop the front tyres scraping the wheel arches on every bump. With this final purchase completed, we were already on the southern outskirts of the city and positioned perfectly to head further south and reach our next destination, Huacachina.