34.8 mi / 12.2 mph / 528 ft. climbing
Home: Hostal Santa Barbara

Like Cusco, Puno has a multi-modal road corridor built within just the last couple years, though instead of running alongside the airport like in Cusco, it runs along the shore of Lake Titicaca, effectively a brand-new “Lake Shore Drive”. That meant it was even easier getting out of Peru’s 21st-biggest city than it was getting in: just a straight shot east from our AirBNB for several blocks, and then a right turn onto the lakeside bike path. Except a big parade setting up to march down the lakefront road (a perfect place for parades!) forced us to weave a bit to navigate around it.

The Lake Titicaca lakefront initially felt almost-touristy, like it wouldn’t have been shocking to see a Myrtle Beach surf shop (ok, it still would have felt completely shocking, but less-shocking than anywhere else we’ve been in Peru!) But that didn’t last long, and we soon reached sections with a lot of trash, glass in the bike path, and sheep grazing in the grassy “beach”. Occasionally there would be a really nice house standing alone amidst the muck, as if someone was trying to get momentum going behind the idea of “lakefront property”, but they’ve got a long way to go! Though with the lakefront road corridor just being completed, maybe lakefront-property development simply wasn’t possible until now.

Once we got spit back out onto the highway, the road was shoulderless the whole way (except for sections where they had installed a deep drainage ditch, in which case they added a buffer on that side, which was new and thoughtful!) So Rett spent much of the ride raging in terror, and while there were certainly assholes who dangerously blasted past us to beat oncoming traffic, and a few non-dangerous assholes who just blasted by too close for no reason, overall the traffic was able to pass easily enough so I won’t remember it as an especially-dangerous road.

The road hugged the lakeshore for about 12 miles, but then got pulled away and become less-attractive, to the point where Rett declared the unimpressive terrain filled with small-scale agriculture the least-scenic day of riding we’ve had in Peru. Which might have been true, but her impressions might have also been colored by her anger at the drivers. And the least-scenic day in Peru still beats an average day almost anywhere else!

As we passed through a small village Rett asked if we should stop to get drinks for lunch, but with the no-fun traffic, no beautiful place to sit and eat, and a helpful crossing tailwind, we just pushed straight through to our destination, once Rett presented the life-simplifying idea to get lunch out at a restaurant, and eat our packed lunches for dinner in our hotel bed.

Unfortunately for us, Ilave (starts with an “IL” like “Illinois”, not an “LL”, which would mean “key” in Spanish) is not a well-documented town, since most cyclists seem to ride straight on to Juli from Puno. But unlike that majority of cyclists who are Bolivia-bound, we needed to stop because we would be turning right to cut across the grain of the Andes from here.

As much as we love Peru, the country can make simple things very hard for us, even (or especially!) when we’re in towns. And in Ilave, without any pre-vetted restaurants, hotels, or grocery stores, I figured it would be a long and frustrating afternoon of old-school searching and being flustered by our poor Spanish.

But this was a lucky day where everything fell into place effortlessly and made life feel so easy and relaxed. We first stopped to top up our stove’s fuel bottle, 1 sole, done. Then we hit the main plaza (which was completely torn out and under construction), where Rett confidently picked a lunch place. They were serving a “menu” for S/8 in what turned out to be a cafeteria-like setup. We selected chicken milanesa from their list of options, paid a woman sitting at a table, she gave us a ticket and directed us to a counter across the room. Oh, but how do we get drinks? (several other parties were seated and eating, but none had drinks). We asked her and she indicated from a shop downstairs. Oh, ok, or we can just get our water bottles off our bikes. We sat down at a table and were quickly delivered bowls of soup with huge noodles and even chunks of beef. Oh, and then the pitchers of tea became ready, which were distributed to every table. And then our main course, chicken, with really good rice. And then the server even brought over two bowls of Jell-o dessert! All for US$2.40, served super-efficiently and with a smile. Incredible!

Half a block down we saw a store with a shopping cart logo, so we just left our bikes locked to each other in front of the restaurant and walked to investigate. It turned out to essentially be a dollar store, carrying a little of everything, but it had all the food we needed, and more (Rett got some nail tools, and I got a round of giggles from a gaggle of teenage schoolgirls by tossing them my best “buenas tardes”).

The final task was a place to sleep for the night. I’d targeted a place that had a listing on booking.com (thus I could see some photos of the rooms, and it indicated they cared enough to market themselves via computers), and when we arrived, a woman in the ground-level shop called to find someone to check us in. But she was getting no response, so we decided to try another maybe-place closer to the highway.

But just as we were walking away, a high-school-aged girl came out and took care of us, and she surprisingly spoke decent English that she was happy to practice with us! She showed us to a huge room for S/50 (~US$15, S/10 less than the price listed on booking.com), and we were settled into it before 2pm, with no need to leave for the rest of the night. If only every afternoon of tasks would go so smoothly!