The Independant 24 December, 2005
Intrepid cycling in Peru

Braving wind, rain and altitude sickness, Lee Levitt joins a band of intrepid cyclists to enjoy Peru's stunning mountain scenery

"Just to recap, the route we're going to take is 20km up and down, but mainly up, then 6km off-road, downhill, to the bottom of the Sacred Valley, and then 20km along the river, to Ollantaytambo." There was a moment's silence in the bicycle-topped wagon as we climbed a steep, narrow, cobbled road out of the former Inca capital Cusco, towards Chincero. Then Annabel Bentley, a 34-year-old doctor from London, piped up to tour leader Lee Timms: "You're really quite enjoying saying Ollantaytambo now." After a week of cycling at high altitude in southern Peru, with diarrhoea, headaches, chapped lips, and hot and cold flushes liberally shared among the Red Spokes Cycle Adventures group, a very British levity had arisen (alongside an occasional fractiousness) as the rarefied atmosphere released inhibitions. The age of the group spanned nearly 50 years - from 18-year-old gap-year student Jack Loveday to semi-retired consultant engineer George Broome, 66, of Houston, Texas, who was there with his 47-year-old wife.

Among our number, "Los Dos Americanos", as they became known, were seasoned high-altitude cyclists who had met on a cycling holiday in Bhutan, and had flown in with their matching $4,000 titanium-framed, 27-gear mountain bikes. Others, such as "weekend rider" Matthew Marlborough, a 30-year-old City banker from Upminster, had hired their bikes from Red Spokes. As cycling groups go, it was at times rather demanding, with tempers fraying when some realised they were not going on the strictly regulated Inca Trail to Machu Picchu (in between the cycling), but on an alternative route. Lee handled things with charm, good humour and dexterity (while simultaneously brushing up on his Spanish).

We had begun acclimatising, following a 90-minute flight south-east from an overcast Lima, at 7,900ft in the perennially sunny southern city of Arequipa - Peru's second largest conurbation. Its cobbled centre features elegant colonial architecture in and around the huge Plaza de Armas. And on a restaurant balcony overlooking the neoclassical cathedral, made from the region's volcanic white sillar stone, we toasted the trip with a Pisco Sour - Peru's potent lemony, egg white-whipped, cinnamon-topped national drink. During a supper of lean and tasty alpaca steak, a young boy played a simple tune on a wooden pipe - a minor prelude to more dinners accompanied by loud, brightly coloured, pan-pipe bands.

As an acclimatisation ride, we were driven to Chachani at 13,800ft. Pre-Inca terracing, where onions, garlic, carrots, alfalfa and corn were growing, gave way via shanty towns to an arid terrain with tough, spiky clumps of ichu (Andean grass) and giant Qeñua trees. "Arequipa is in the last stretch of the Atacama Desert, which is one of the driest in the world. We have the volcanos as windshields from the Andean weather," said Eduardo Molina, our Peruvian guide. Lee advised us to drink plenty of water, and warned that some of us might start getting headaches and feeling sick. If we became dizzy and started to lose co-ordination, however, it was more serious. "Take it easy - don't tear down the mountain," he finished.

We jolted, juddered and skidded our way down a rocky, sandy, winding track, dominated by views of the dormant El Misti volcano, until we reached the tarmac. One of the benefits of a cycling holiday is that you work up a decent appetite. Our first, and best, lunch stop was at El Mirador de Chilina, in the suburb of Cayma, overlooking the Chilina valley. We feasted on ceviche, a dish of fresh trout from the Chili River below, sweet potato, corn and onions, with a lemongrass and coriander dressing, followed by an Arequipan speciality lamb soup, washed down by jugs of chicha - a tangy, purple fermented maize juice - after which we descended to Arequipa via a single track along some terracing beside a stream.

The thinness of the air was forcefully brought home to me on an early-evening two-mile jog. By the time I was halfway round, I could barely string a sentence together, and following a sprint finish I was close to retching. The altitude is no respecter of fitness. To help combat the effects of the reduced oxygen, the indigenous peoples have, for centuries, used coca leaves. As we drove up to 15,800ft, passing Andean geese and packs of the rare vicuñas (a type of small camel), we stopped at a café for some coca leaf and chachacoma tea. Continuing past the extinct Chucura volcano, we passed around packets of coca leaves, and were encouraged to chew on the mouth-numbing contents. They had a bitter, liquorice-and-spinach flavour, which was sweetened by a tiny stone of white llipta ash that also releases the active ingredient of coca. "It's good to roll the leaves into a ball and absorb the juice. It activates your body," said Eduardo.

However, a freak snowstorm and freezing conditions wiped out the day's cycling, and we warmed up at a hot springs, surrounded by mountains, in Chivay instead. Nearly 100 miles north of Arequipa, Chivay is close to the Colca canyon - one of the deepest canyons in the world, with a sheer two-mile drop from the snow-capped Bomboya to the river. Condors, nesting in the sides of the canyon, are best seen early in the morning, and having driven past the silver mining town of Madrigal to the Cruz del Condor vantage point, we watched them glide on the thermals.

Further on, we reassembled the bikes near Maca, whose mountainside roads were sinking due to a geological fault. The route went inside the canyon and then climbed to Lari, where a church was being renovated, and Coporaque, the canyon's oldest town, dating back to the 15th century, before returning to Yanque. As we climbed past mountain villages and cattle-herds, my head began to throb and didn't let up until we finished in driving rain, making the 24-mile ride seem like 42. The solid wooden bed and heavy alpaca blankets at the thatched-roofed Tradicion Colca Albergue and restaurant could not have been more welcome.

It was on the Altiplano, 50 miles east of Chivay across the Andes, at 13,800ft, that the altitude really began to take its toll. However, having among us a chartered surveyor from Cheshire who had been on an Ayurvedic massage course in India proved a boon, and, in a headache-heavy trip, he had plenty of takers for his head massages.

Invigorated by a steaming hot bowl of beef soup with noodles, zapallo (pumpkin) and corn, more coca leaf tea, and with up to five layers of clothing to combat the chill wind, we set off on a 33-mile ride that was taking us up to 14,850ft outside Imata. The wagon followed with a couple of the group who were feeling too rough to ride. Isolated alpaca and llama herds grazed on the ichu, while lower down one of the dogs littering the road charged after me, barking ferociously.

At one point, we nearly reached 50mph as we sped through the sparsely populated expanse and around the beautiful Lake Lagunillas. Lower down, the route from Raqchi to Cusipata was more intensively farmed, with some of Peru's 600-odd varieties of potato, for which the province of Cusco is famed, among the crops surrounding the adobe (mud brick) homes.

By now, most of us were fully acclimatised and ready for the best day's cycling from Chinchero to Ollantaytambo. The former Inca administrative centre, on the east side of the Sacred Valley, Ollantaytambo is named after the 15th-century warrior Ollantay, who rebelled against the ruler Inca Pachacuti and sought refuge in the "shelter" (tampu). After 10 miles of fertile, undulating countryside, we came to the working Salinera salt mine, carved into the mountainside by the Incas, and rode down a precipitous single track.

A cobbled ascent to Ollantaytambo left many saddle-sore by the time we pitched up at the brilliantly-appointed El Albergue Ollantaytambo. While half the group climbed to the fortress one of them had spotted etched into the cliff face, I relaxed in a wood-fired sauna with eucalyptus leaves. Not only had it been the best ride, but I had finally broken through the altitude barrier with a headache-free day.

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