Heavy eye lids peeled open, it was ‘stupid O’clock’ (3:45am) “eg,,Urrrrg,mpheltaaaaa, …smutheringgsteeeeew, blah, fhewww”, I mumbled to Lisa, which I think translated to “Oh God I can’t move…it’s too early”. We had to get going we’d arranged to meet the ‘laid on’ mini van, which would take us to the train station at 4:30am. Spot on time the white mini van turned into the plaza and we exchange a few good mornings with the few others already on-board, whilst we were handed all our necessary documentation and tickets.

Not going to write too much, it’s been a long day. We left Cusco this morning and spent the day riding decent twisty mountain passes that brought us as far as Chalhuanca. We’ve found a small but clean hotel right on the roadside, with secure parking around the back and large locked gates, so we should sleep well.

We’ve managed to get to the town of Nazca tonight, but again it’s been a long day. Much of our ride here has been above 10,000 feet and concentration has needed to be 100%. The ride down to Nazca itself was simply stunning. Ochre and orange mountain, covered in windswept sand dunes made for an unforgettable horizon. We’ve stopped on the outskirts in a small hotel called ‘The Star’

We’d already accepted that after the expense of our Machu Picchu experience there was no way we could stretch our finances to a flight over the Nazca lines, and yes we were disappointed but to be honest not devastated. We’re still bussing from MP.

We’d had a tough day lying by the pool and soaking up the Sun, when we noticed a large red truck parking up at the gates to the hotel, “bloody hell, Coco-Cola are delivering late in the day”, I mentioned to Lisa. Funny the delivery guy looked bizarrely familiar…no way!

A familiar South African twang cut the air. “What the fuck are you doing here”? Skank had shouted from across the car park as a dozen dozing guest turned to stare at the blonde hair numpty that was striding into the hotel ground (actually Skank bounces more than he strides but you get the idea ;-)) Skank and Sass our 'over-landing' friends had just arrived with 3 clients, we’d not seen them since we left Puerto San Julian on Argentina’s East coast, en-route for Ushuaia.

Needless to say we spent the afternoon wearing constant grins, catching up on news, with a constant supply of rum and coke on hand. Something’s don’t and should never change. It was great to see them again.

With Huacachina and the dunes behind we struck out for Lima, we’d not heard much good about Peru’s capital city.

Skank had already pulled out one of his short-wave radios and had tuned into the frequency Lisa and I use for the Autocom system. Disappointingly he could hear us but we couldn’t hear him (that’s not a bad thing as talk a load of a load bollocks anyway ?). Our day wasn’t to be without event. We’d all been making good progress and with Lisa and I riding ahead had found a long stretch of straight tar and been tempted to open up the bikes a little to clear their throats, we resisted the temptation, well there was no point, we wanted to stay with Sass and Skank and arrive in Lima together.

The two figures we’d spotted on the horizon line of the road were clearly visible as police. We patted ourselves on the back for resisting the temptation to accelerate. We’d celebrated too early. Now stood directly in our path, the two cops were clearly directing us to pull over. Shit!!! What now? We knew we hadn’t been speeding, I’d been checking our speed regularly with the GPS. And so it began.

These guys were low-life’s; Their approach started off as aggressive and lacking any imagination they simply continued the same theme. “Yeah, yeah buddy you can move on…I understand that you’re stating we made an infraction” I thought to myself. Their first attempt to extort money was to tell us that they’d been radioed by the chief to say we passed him some 20 minutes earlier and that he seen us cross the double-yellow line in the road. OK, we had seen police around that time but we sure as hell hadn’t crossed any lines. We’d been in South America long enough to know that as soon as you see cops you do everything in your power to ride perfectly. Why we give these guys a legitimate reason to pull us over?

They were demanding our papers and we’d handed them the fake ID/license we’d made months ago. They seemed to accept them. Their demand was simple; they wanted 500 Soles for the ‘infraction’. We explained using our ‘pleasantly bemused British voices’ that we didn’t have that much. The reply was firm; we’d have to accompany them all the way back to Lima, where they’d threaten to impound our vehicles until payment had been received. We could always continue they told us but then they’d retain our document. I was thinking, “you can keep the sodding thing you walking piece of fore-skin, I’ll print another at the next internet shop I find”. We’d now been doing this for 40 minutes. We knew dam well that they wouldn’t take us back to Lima, it just wasn’t worth their effort or time.

OK, my time to play this game I thought to myself. I began to tell them how difficult I thought there job must be. I exclaimed with as much sincerity as I could muster that I’d been a police officer in the UK for 11-years and our job is easier as we have modern facilities. The raise eyebrows confirmed that little fact had been absorbed by this Neanderthal in a uniform.

We’d agreed to pay, but of course we’d need to see the photo-evidence of the line crossing infraction. “Should we start to return to Lima now” We asked? It was a complete bluff. We were counting on them not wanting to. It paid off. We’d now been at this for an hour.

According to ‘Bill and Ben, the flower pot men” (I had this image in my head of these two, getting into their car and Bill saying to Ben…phlob-alob, flob-a-lob, ablob-a-lob, to which Ben would answer…if you love me you’d swollow it). Now they were saying they’d misunderstood the infraction and ‘actually’ the infraction was speeding! What??? “Christ you’re just making this up as you go along” Lisa and I thought. The fine was to be 300 Soles. I explained that “I didn’t think we’d been speeding”. I’d had enough of this ridiculous shit. Pressing some random buttons on my GPS unit and ‘Umming’ and ‘Ahhing’ in the right places, I explained…”I have a complete satellite record of our journey from our departure from Lima this morning and I have 16 satellites confirming my speed had not been higher than 70 km for last hour”! Funny, I’ve got no idea why I said 16 sat’s as GPS only record info from a max of 8 sat’s, well mine does anyway.

I continued, that we had no problem paying the fine but being a cop in the UK I knew how important it was to have evidence presented, did they have proof”? I continued “…of course we would also need an official receipt for any monies paid I explained.

Our new companions weren’t looking best pleased!!! Good.

This now, was nothing more than a waiting game, who would give first, them or us. Who could out-wait/talk the other?

Just then a large red familiar truck flew passed, with Skank sounding the horn and waiving. What we hadn’t realised, was that since they’d been in radio distance they’d heard pretty much everything. They couldn’t afford to stop and embroil themselves in this mess. We found them later waiting just over the crest in the road.

An hour and a half later and with our ‘fake papers’ back in our hands, Bill and Ben had given up and waived us on. Now…I know there is a God, because as they swaggered back to their 4X4, sat in and tried to start up the ‘twat-mobile’, the thing stuttered, belched and died. Brilliant! With any luck they’re still there freezing their asses off in the desert.

By early evening we’d done our best to make for lost time and were now following Skank through the chaos of Lima’s rush hour traffic. We were keen to get off the bikes.

We ended up parking the bikes some 5 miles out from the centre of town in a secure lock-up used by all the over-land companies for their trucks. Sass had already emailed the ‘Hotel Kamana’ to reserve us a room and had even managed to convince the staff to charge us the commercial over-land rate. 12 pounds a night for a 3 star hotel room was going to do us just fine. Thanks Sass, you’re a star.

With another full day of riding in, and even having spent two hours with Skank repairing a broken clutch on his truck we’d ridden into the night and arrived in the small coastal town of Huanchaco around dusk. The salt laden sea-mist covering our visors had made the last 40-minutes hard going. Hostel Bracamonte would be our launch-board tomorrow, when we explore the Chan-Chan ruins.

With bellies full of pasta and strawberry daquari’s we finally gave in to heavy eye-lids and turned in.

With breakfast downed by 7:30am we’d packed up and followed the large red over-landing truck out onto the road. 20 minutes later and we were pulling up in the large dusty lot outside the small ticket office where we’d buy our tickets for the ruins and meet our guide. This was a treat for us. On our own hiring a guide was simply not what our budget would allow, but the cost split6-ways was now do’ able. And so with out tickets in hand we entered the labyrinth of red mud bricked alleyways that make up the Chan Chan ruins. Structures, homes, temples over 2,000-years old and still visible. Even walking around it was hard to really grasp how old these structures are and moreover how they’d survived buried under the earth, sand and dust for so long.

An hour later and back at the bikes we donned our gear and headed another 15 km’s up the road to take in the even more spectacular ‘Moon and Sun Temples’.

This particular set of ruins has undergone a massive amount of repair and restructuring. Check out the photos.

With our sight-seeing done we needed to get a move on if we were going to try to reach Punta Sol.

By days end we’d not made it to Punta Sol but had still covered 201-miles of the Peruvian coastline. As dusk became night we’d pulled over into the scrub along with Sass and Skank and the truck and for the first time in ages, set up a bush camp complete with roaring fire. With full belies and just a ‘smidgen’ of vodka Lisa, Sass, Skank and I set up a tarp on the ground, pulled out the sleeping bags and slept under the stars. With nothing but stars above our heads we slept well. Nothing beats this.

We’d make Punta Sal with time to spare. With the GPS co-ord from Skank already inputted into the GPS, we waved adios, (yeah, a little smugly) as we accelerated past the truck and headed North. We’d arrive early and get our stuff sorted well before the truck pulled in.

We’d heard so many good things about Punta Sal, a beautiful little hostel with camping right on the beach. Sounded perfect.

MariSol and Pepe (the owners of Punta Sal) were being screwed by their web company and were keen to try to set up a new site. With that they made us an offer we couldn’t refuse. I build them a new site and they’d cover our accommodation, food and drink bill until we left. Needless to say I’ve been in front of this little machine for quite a few hours.

Punta Sal is beautiful, serene and just a little to perfect. In the same way that photos used in holiday brochures always are, when you’re left thinking…’nah, it can’t really look like that…can it’?

Yesterday we celebrated 3 years 5 months on the road. Time flies.