21.6 mi / 8.58 mph / 604 ft. climbing
Home: Casa Hospedaje Los Capulies

Finally we begin bike touring in Peru! Eva of course stopped by to see us off as we were loading up the bikes, and for the first time I think she really understood this crazy thing that we’ve been doing for nearly four years. It was also very satisfying to have a 15-minute conversation entirely in Spanish (of course with Eva doing most of the talking), where somehow we didn’t need to break out Google Translate even once!

Rett started great, with her bike loaded for the first time in Peru. We proceeded along a familiar route, initially from our previous bike rides, and then on the highway to Carhuaz that we have traveled several times in tour vans. In between, there was an unexpected section of steep gravel in the middle of the city that we had to walk down.

Three miles in, amongst the 50 to 100 auto repair shops that line the road heading north out of Huaraz, we stopped for an early lunch at the incongruously-fancy and expansive Don Cuy. To eat some cuy. Which is a very short Spanish word for “guinea pig”. A dish that most restaurants serve, not just those catering to tourists looking for “exotic” Peruvian foods. But this place has wood-fired grills, smokers, and really specializes in the little rodents. Mine came out visibly resembling a guinea pig (head, little feet), while Rett’s “Broaster” was a bit more like fried chicken pieces. It was good!

Back on the main north-south highway in the Santa River valley, traffic wasn’t too heavy, and generally well-behaved, but still, with dogs added to the mix, we opted for a four mile gravel alternate that runs on the opposite side of the (super-long) airstrip. Bad idea, because despite a mile of asphalt suddenly appearing in the middle, the gravel was rougher than I expected, so we expended far more time and energy than if we’d just stayed on the main road. It was certainly quieter though.

In Carhuaz, we’d booked a “Hospedaje” (this one essentially a 6-room hotel in a family home) on Booking.com, and when we rang the bell, a woman opened the door and led us up to Room #6, a much larger suite than the one we booked. Was this a “free upgrade” that some reviews had noted? Or a mixup that we would end up paying a lot more for? With our limited Spanish, I guess we’ll find out eventually! (luckily the most expensive room would be “only” US$68, but that’s more than twice the US$30 room we’d booked.)

We went out to acquire groceries for the wild-camping days ahead (the kitchen in our upgrade also allowed Rett to pre-cook some quinoa). We passed through the town’s Plaza de Armas, and it was even better than it appeared from the tour bus that passed by it on the way to one of our hikes.

Unfortunately, finding a place for dinner wasn’t as relaxing. We walked around to three or four places, with increasing hunger, sometimes taking a while to correlate the dot on Google Maps with the place in the real world. Once we found their locations, the next discovery was that Google Maps’ hours were incorrect, since they were all closed. Finally we realized that we might have been running into the Latin American bane of bike tourers: restaurants that don’t (re)open for dinner until we’re getting ready for bed.

Finally, we got a hit with Albaca Restaurant (though even there they had to turn the lights on after we slid the door open). Initially four workers were serving two customers (us), but then a big group of 10 came in to make it more of a party. We’d been working down our priority list, getting less and less excited about what we’d end up eating, but Albaca hadn’t even been on the list, and its pizzas were so excellent that it clearly should have been our #1 choice from the beginning.

The amount of low-key, family-oriented activity on the streets on a random Tuesday evening gives Carhuaz a pulse that would be unimaginable in a US town of a similar size. Just so many people coming together to socialize, rather than staying at home staring at the TV or their phones. I’m not sure if this is something inherent in Peruvian culture, or if it’s mostly driven by the housing units being much smaller (and, without climate control, somewhat less-comfortable) than American houses, “forcing” people outside for more hours of the day.

Hopefully the couple of gringos wandering around town added in some way to the town’s culture. We’re just glad to have successfully made our first hop in Peru from one place to another!