Another border and a bunch of mountains.

We arrive in Porto Velho more or less on time in mid-afternoon. The docking process is prolonged by first pulling up to one side of the dock then backing away and pulling up to the other side. Once tied off the process was very fast and we are soon back on two wheels. Well for about 15 minutes until we get to the hotel. After 5 days of no a/c and the time of day we had planned on staying for the night anyway.

Our hotel is ideally located across the street from a gas station one way and a fruit market the other.  After all the rice and beans on the boat we eat a bunch of fruit for supper and are content with that. Air conditioning and a bed you can roll over in never felt to decadent.

The next couple of days are back to the routine of overland travel as we parallel the Bolivian border until we reach Peru.  There is a tour group in the hotel parking lot that are crossing the Amazon in a slightly different fashion than we are, but adventurous all the same.

We are also surprised by how terrible the road is, it reminds of the Paraguay road from the Bolivian border. We do our best to dodge as many holes as possible but we can’t dodge then all, fortunately we do not bend any rims or get any flats. We also thought we were done with boats but there is another ferry crossing rather uneventful and short but still a bit of a time consumer.

The road through town was a disaster.

The border crossing is straight forward on the Brazil side, stamp the passports and we are finished. The Peru side was a little less organized. We had forgot the process for Peru. First get the passports stamped, then make copies of the passports photo page and entry stamp page, also make copies of the bike registration and both sides of the drivers license. Take those to the SUNAT office in order to get the bike paperwork needed for entry. We are finally processed and shown to the gate.

Brasil border station.

The road gets markedly better on the Peru side so we can make up some lost time; there are a few maintenance issues once again. It is time to change Brenda’s chain as the master link seems to have worn the connecting links on both sides to the point that it does not line up with the teeth on the sprocket anymore. Both bikes are due for oil changes and Puerto Maldonado is the place for that. We find a nice little lube shop and the helpful owner does what he can as I change the bike oil. Brenda’s dash has been having condensation issues again so that also gets attended to.

It is nice be back in Peru, the little things make it very different from other countries. They put a lot of effort into keeping the edges of the road clean and neat, and the work crews usually wear high visibility clothing so that it is easy to see them. There are numerous little restaurants offering Menu del Dia, which is drink and a two course meal of soup and rice/meat/beans, usually for $7 or $8PEN (about $3CAD). Then there are the speed bumps, every little town has at least two and sometime they are in the middle of nowhere, sometimes marked and sometimes not. But the most unique thing is their ability to build the most spectacular motorcycle roads through the never ending lush green Andes.

We made the decision to stay on the East side of the Andes following Rte 3S and 5N to the Ecuador border. This will allow us to see a portion of Peru we have not seen in our previous visits. Most of the towns we stay in for the next week are just pit-stops along the highway, one town did not even have a name as far as we could determine, no sign, not on the GPS or Google maps, but they did have an interesting hostal and a friendly host.

We arrive in Tocache ahead of a violent thunder storm and heavy rain that lasts all night long. When we go down to the bikes in the morning we realize that Brenda’s bike was not under the cover of the eve and is a bit wetter than expected. Not a big deal as they are pretty much weather proof, today being the exception. For some reason Brenda’s bike battery was completely dead. I tried to boost with my bike but that did not work either.  After a couple of hours of trying different things including taking the battery to a service shop to get charged and buying a new battery we discovered that the new battery was underpowered to turn over the bigger motor. All the bikes here are 250cc and smaller so the batteries do not need to be very powerful. The other detail is that it will take two days to get one here from Lima. So we have no choice but to wait.

Today is Jan 20^th, meaning we have just over a month to get to Colombia, should be easy enough to meet that schedule.

5 Days on the Madiera River

Just to backtrack a bit. Here is how they load the bikes onto this boat.

Boat life this time is a bit different than the first time mostly due to length of travel time, the first was 24hrs, this was 5 days and 4 nights. We were hoping for some English speaking people to be on board with us and we are rewarded with a couple of young guys from Venezuela who become translators for our trip. Diego is travelling to Peru as is Junior. Neither one of them has any amount of money, Junior doesn’t have much more than a towel and friendly smile. Diego is a few years older and has travelled before so he has the basics, including his guitar which is his main source of income. They are travelling or at least hanging around with a missionary family that has been travelling for 25yrs. They survive by making and selling jewelry and their strong faith helps them when they need Him the most. 

I will admit that we usually avoid the backpacker crowd as they are usually in a different mindset than us, but given the closed quarters we inevitably see them and get to know them a bit. Diego is the real helper and turns into our translator most of the time. He also sang a few songs to us after supper on our  21^st anniversary and the missionary family gave us a special blessing to protect and guide us on our journey. 

Our Anniversary serenade. The boats motorman played a makeshift bongo to accompany Diego.

This seemed to open a door we did not expect as we were invited the next morning to join in a prayer circle. Willing to try most things at least once, we figured a Portuguese prayer circle is likely a one time opportunity. One of the other passengers, who we were referring to as the photographer, gave us a Spanish bible to follow the scripture which helped a bit because it is easier to read than understand the pronunciation. After that, the passenger we named the Bible lady decided it was her turn to give us a prayer and blessing, she was smart enough to bring Diego along to translate. 

The Brasilian Missionary leading the prayer circle, all unscripted. Her husband played music while she spoke.

So all stocked up on good energy and such, it seems that now some of the other passengers have gotten brave enough to approach us with the usual questions. The first is always, Americano? To which we politely reply No, Canadiense. To which they reply, “oooo, mucho frio” (ooo, very cold). Then they machine gun us with Portuguese, to which we shrug our shoulders and tell them we do not speak their language. They seem confused because after all we were in the Prayer circle.

In any event this boat ride is much more enjoyable than the first one, even though our closet is very hot during the day, our hammock provides a place of rest and a good vantage point to watch the scenery go by. We are surprised at how many little yards and villages there are along this river but it is a main trade route between Manaus and Porto Velho. It is explained to us why the dirt road has never been upgraded or even maintained. If the road were in good enough shape to use as a reliable transport route then the shipping business would not be needed and there is not enough money in passenger service only.

The only other regular visitors we get are the numerous children that are curious enough to make eye contact and smile. This is the ice breaker and soon they are sitting beside us, or just standing and staring at us. The binoculars were a big hit with them; they looked through them both ways and then would giggle like crazy. They are rewarded with some Canada stickers.

We pass many barges transporting Soya beans from Porto Velho to Manaus and from there they are shipped to Japan. The hull of our boat is filled with staple items that it will drop off in P. Velho and restock with produce like limes, rice, corn, and oranges. We enjoy the food as best we can, breakfast is at 6am and is what they call a typical Brazilian breakfast of very sweet coffee and bread or crackers. It is not very filling but the sweet coffee gets us going. Daily lunch and dinner is the same menu; rice, spaghetti, fried beans, and meat (chicken, pork, beef all cooked with the same recipe). Also, because we are not doing anything all day our appetites are not as big as usual. The joke with the other passengers is eat-hammock-eat-hammock. The mornings are cool compared to the afternoon heat so we take advantage of the 6am wakeup and sneak in a basic workout of chin-ups, push-ups, sit-ups and a few burpees. The kids get a kick out of this and the adults just watch and smile. Brenda gets a lot of compliments and questions because the ladies here have zero muscle definition.
We drop off a couple of passengers along the way but for the most part people stay onboard until the second last day when they disembark at Humatia, which is a two hour drive from Porto Velho but an extra day on the river. We stay on the boat all the way and the last day is just as enjoyable. People are getting excited about reaching the destination and like any confined group setting people become friendlier just before separation.

It is difficult to summarize 5 days of boat travel into one post and impossible to include all the photos so we will have to leave it at this.

Back in Brasil

Boa Vista is the last big city on this North/South route that leads to Venezuela. Had we been able to get through the Venezuela/Colombia border we would be turning North and going to St. Elena in the morning and from there to Angel Falls. As the border is still closed we turn South and head towards Manaus.

This is the typical lobby parking process.

Manaus is on the south end along Amazon river and is one of the largest Port cities in the region. Between the two there is not much for population, there is however a very large nature reserve area and the city of Presidente Figueiro. Pres Fig seems to be a resort type town where people go to take jungle tours and swim in the rivers around town. Other than the friendly drunk guy at the gas station there is not much else for us in Pres. Fed.

Some nasty looking clouds.

A unique dining experience at the bus station, where there are six small kitchens and a bunch of picnic tables, find a spot to sit and the corresponding waitress gives a checklist menu to fill out. Then she collects the menu and shortly thereafter brings out the food. Then take the menu to whatever kitched she too it to where there is a cashier. Well that is how it is supposed to work, it is much easier to write about it after we learned the system. Initially we walked up to the counter and the cahier pulled one of the menu’s from a pile and circles something and pointed at the total. $R39. Then the arm flap and we sat down at a table. Then the waitress came over and looked more confused than we did because we had a filled out and paid for menu/bill. She smiled and walked away, followed by the cashier coming to the table and giving us back our money and taking the bill. Now, we can start over, the waitress comes over like she has never seen us before and the proper system is implemented. This process would not be complete without the drunk guy from the gas station visiting tables and asking for food, which he shared with a stray dog. Even the drunks are friendly here.

Nothing makes a scene more than two bigger, louder bikes pulling out of a hotel and into a crowd of people. Our hotel is across the street from the bus depot restaurant which is full of morning customers. We stand out at the best of times but moments like this garner more attention that usual. Every head in the restaurant turned when we started our bikes and rode away, then it was like we were never there and they carried on with their routine.

We made our way South to Manaus in the hopes arranging our boat passage to Porto Velho for Tuesday. There is scattered info online about the boats and prices and who to trust. We had been corresponding with Amazing Jungle Tours in the past few days and they seemed to have good reviews online. We found a hotel close to the dock in Old Town and on our way back from parking the bikes were approached by a overly friendly guy named Max, Mad Max as he called himself, he and his brother Armstrong run a tour company together and is eager to help. He points us back to our hotel and not surprisingly within an hour there is a call to our room that Armstrong is in the lobby. This is when the Spidey senses start to tingle. We understand that they have to hussle for business but we never mentioned what we were doing in Manaus. Armstrong was very personable and guaranteed that we could book a suite on the boat with a/c, one big bed, a beer fridge, and ensuite bathroom, all for the low price of R$2900 for the room and two bikes. All our research indicated that the bikes should be less than R$600 and the cabin at about R$1200. This left a lot of mark-up, and he seemed a little to eager. We told him to wait as we were talking with a different company already. Leonardo at Amazing Jungle Tours promised all the same stuff for R$1900, that seemed more reasonable so we did some final negotiating and committed to Leo. The next morning he was at the hotel a bit earlier than scheduled an took us and our bikes to the dock where we secured our passage and bike shipment. The south American factor had to kick in at some point so we were a bit disappointed when he told us the a/c suite was not available and we would have to take the Camarote cabina, basically bunk-beds in a closet with a locking door. I was a bit vocal at this point as I knew how hot it was on the first boat and sleeping is nearly impossible without a/c. He apologized profusely and blamed it on the Brazilians not doing business the same as in North America. Everything is first come first serve, even with reservations. It took a few minutes to calm down then realized it was still better than hammock class. Leo reduced the price accordingly and gave us the key to our cabina. We off loaded the luggage from the bikes and put the bikes onboard. Then back to the hotel in the hopes of getting our riding gear laundered today.

The river boat loading process. None of these are ours.

So four hours after dropping off our riding gear the front desk clerk says that the laundry machine is broken and they cannot wash our stuff. I promptly told him to use an outside laundry service instead of the hotel machine, to which he responded he would try but it may be cheaper. Okay, cheaper is good when talking about laundry. Much to our delight it came back the next morning smelling of cleanliness instead of stinky tourist hockey bags.

Now we had some time to walk around the town and snoop. We needed to buy some snacks for the 5 day boat ride and it was recommended t also uy some fruits and bread. Brazilians love bread. We also needed a bit of silicone to seal Brenda’s dash, I planned to do this while on the boat as 5 days is a lot of downtime. We also decided to buy a hammock because the room was to small to sit in and we would need a place to relax. After that it was soft serve ice cream and popcorn treats, then onto the boat the next day. Tuesday Jan 5th, 2016 2:00pm we board the Paulo Moriero. Next stop Porto Velho.

 

Linden to Lethem Part 2

The other big reason that we decided to wait at the ferry was that we were not going any farther today. The plan was to stay over in the Eco Lodge across the river and then tackle the other half of the dirt road the next day. It gets dark here at 6pm and usually rains in the late afternoon so that added to the decision as well. Iwokrama Lodge and Research Center is an oasis in the jungle. The little road into the property opens up to the large main lodge, two worker housing units, 8 guest cabins, and 1 guest Hostel. They property has been there for twenty years so it is well established and does alot of tracking of animals and forestry. 

Main Lodge

Our garage for the night.

They also have a pet Caiman that is 12 feet long, he was rescued as a baby because the piranha had chewed one of his legs. The staff nursed it back to life but the leg was lost, so the 12 foot three legged croc has gotten used to people and is slow enough that he does not pose a threat on land, however swimming in the river is strictly prohibited.

We meet David and Barbara, and their guides; Leon from Georgetown and buddy from Ecuador. David and Brabara are from Perth Aus, and are here on a bird watching expedition. This area is home to a recorded 472 species of birds, most of which within walking distance of the lodge. Plus, for added viewing there are monkeys, deer, Jaguars, snakes and about a million beautiful bright blue butterflies the size of a man’s hand. It is a very peaceful spot and the staff are very friendly, the ladies geet us with big smiles every time they see us and are attentive to ensure we have a pleasant stay. We get to sleep under a mosquito net in our cozy room, a perfect end to a fantastic day.

One of the many colorful species of birds found here.

The jungle critters serve as our alarm clock, as does the falling rain on the roof. We anticipated this so after a nice breakfast it was time to conquer the second half of the jungle road. This section is quite a bit tighter as the jungle is trying to reclaim the road, plus the rain has made the surface more slippery in sections and we get occasional wake up calls when the back tire tries to pass the front. We had bid farewell to the blue gas cans while waiting for the ferry so we are travelling a little lighter today as well. The final checkpoint is at the South border of the protected forest region and because it is New Years Day, the guards seem extra tranquil and tell us that the road ahead has some slippery sections.

What seems like all of a sudden, we are spit out of the forest and into the Grand Savanna. Much like the foothills and prairies at home. The jungle surrenders to wide open spaces with rolling hills and cattle ranches. 

The Grand Savanna.

The road also changed from wet red mud to washboard gravel with baby-head rocks sticking up for good measure. There is only one cure for this type of surface, speed. At around 80km/hr everything just magically smooths out, with the exception of the suspension on the bikes which is working overtime, but that is what it is designed to do.  

What it is like to film at 80km/hr, on a rough gravel road, standing up, camera in one hand, throttle in the other. Not quite like the after editing version. 

This 160km section from the river to the boarder only took four hours, so we get to the border town at noon, and to the actual border at 1pm. Stamp stamp out of Guyana and back into Brasil, only to discover that the Brasilian officers are on lunch until 2pm. So we wait and talk with the bus driver and the customs officer for an hour. Nice guys, the bus driver is heading to Georgetown today and figures he can make the last ferry at 6pm. That will be a challenge given the road condition and the condition of his little bus/van, we suspect he will be sleeping at the river tonight.

The border is about 120km from our destination of Boa Vista, which given the 2pm opening of the border should work out well. Also, the road is paved in Brasil so no more dirt today. This also puts us into town mid-afternoon so we should be able to get the bikes washed and maybe even ourselves. New Year’s Day in the city means almost everything is closed, even the car wash, but a young entrepreneur looked at the bikes and figured this should be worth a couple of Reias.

As we pulled into the wash bay some local guys hooted at us and said the car-wash is closed. We started to back the bikes out when the first guy strolled over and did the classic arm flap, indicating that the bikes need to be in the wash bay in order for them to be cleaned. From there the scrubbing started, first he soaked/rinsed the bikes with high pressure water, then he sprayed them with something that hurt when we accidentally breathed in the fumes. He was in a cloud of the stuff seemingly unaffected. Even his buddies moved farther back to avoid the vapor cloud of death. Then the bucket of laundry soap and sheepskin was employed to get the fine bits. He seemed a bit shocked when we commandeered the pressure hose and turned it on each other. Then we washed the luggage and one more death vapor was created with what appeared to be quick dry no spot stuff. The only thing I forgot to do was cover Brenda’s dash, now it is full of water and not working. The fun never ends, but for now we were focused on getting into a hotel, the first one wanted $100USD, ya right, they had a image complex. The second one was just as nice and was only $50CAD, and once again secure parking in the courtyard by the pool. We think it was because our bikes were shiny clean, 45minutes ago they would never have let them onto the tile floor.

Supper down the street at the very popular fish place, and that is a wrap. It is nice to be back in Brasil, clean and affordable hotels, great food, just enough modern conveniences to feel not so out of sorts, and of course very friendly people. 

You meet the friendliest drunk guys at gas stations. Not sure what he was saying in slurred Portuguese 

Linden to Lethem Part 1

All research says that the road from Linden to Lethem is broken up by a ferry crossing at km230. So we are in for a bit of jungle mud and isolation until that point. 

We were anticipating the worst so we filled our blue jerry cans with fuel as well, we have been carrying them around since Chile but they do come in handy at times. We are greeted with a very wide road initially, which made lots of space for crater sized potholes. 

Much drier than the previous picture.

The best part is they are filled with mud so it is hard to tell how deep they are until you hit one. Most are fairly shallow but there are a few that felt bottomless as it is impossible to avoid them all. It reminded me of that old joke about the cowboy up to his ears in mud commenting that it is not too bad but his horse is in really big trouble. As the pounding goes on there is a couple of quick stops to restrap the blue jerry can, once, twice, three times and we have a hole. 

Good thing is the gas is dripping onto the hot exhaust, but to fast to catch fire. We dump what we can into the gas tanks and the rest into the two 1 litre fuel bottles, then it is a creative crunch of the plastic can and strap it onto the bike with the hole to the sky. This will have to do until we burn some more fuel. We are busy dodging dirt piles, fallen trees, potholes and the occasional oncoming vehicle when we are forced to stop and deal with a second puncture, this time to the other blue gas can. I guess they were bought together and chose to die together. Once again shuffling fuel in to the gas tanks and the familiar crunch and tie method we are on our way. Almost. Brenda’s bike decides it does not want to start and after a bit of cranking the battery is to weak to spin the engine. Really...now...here...great. 


I start tearing into my luggage to get the booster cable, but before I take off the side panels and try boosting I hit the starter button one more time and it fires right up. Awesome, lets get moving again. For the most part the road was pretty good, although the 5 ton cargo truck stuck in a hole might say different, it turns out they have been there for 2 days with a broken rear differential. 

What a good section looks like.

Another jungle victim. Trailer stripped and left for dead.

A wet section, and the red clay is a bit slick.

We pass through some very small villages and the mandatory stop at the police checkpoint before arriving at the ferry. 

Checkpoint at the entrance of the Marubi Protected Forrest region. Document check/recorded.

230km and 5hours later. We are greeted by a friendly lady running a little restaurant at the ferry “terminal”, we are also told by the ferry operator that the officer at the gate wants to talk to us. We figure he wants to check documents or something because he did not ask to see anything when we passed through, instead he informs us of “how it works here”. If we want to cross we would have to pay $2000GYD, or we can wait for a vehicle to show up and cross for free with them. The ferry is a free service but this is how they reduce the costs of operation and make some money as the “fee” is not recorded. It is early enough in the day that we decide to wait for a while and see if anyone shows up. We pass the time by chatting with the restaurant lady and soon enough the fuel truck that we passed at least an hour ago rolls up. Good to go, 1pm crossing, right after the truck driver and his helper eat lunch. 

How it works here.

Our little free ferry. We have to wait for a four wheeled vehicle.

Typical cargo truck. Loaded with barrels of fuel.

One more checkpoint on the South side of the river. Passport recorded and the Police check for stamps.