Derek Jennings
Feeling On Top Of The World

Experience an account of 50 days on a bicycle over the Andes from Lima to Rio de Janeiro

Thursday 5th November
Rio de Janeiro

Today we decided to do our homegoing final arrangements. Check flights, call at Reuters, contact Am/Express about the stolen credit card and somewhere try and find a bike box! It was hard to get Martin started, but we got going after he had rung the Embassy and found he had mail to collect, one of which was a parcel at the Post office. It contained a hand designed poster from his girl friend Kathy, signed by all his friends with a special congratulations message, It read “Congratulations To Martin and Derek, Hooray!! Winners Of The Strong Leg Award!!”. I picked up my letter from Helen and that was a real surprise and exciting, nice to know everything is OK, and Helen is excited as I am and looking forward to my homecoming. Excitement was soon dampened when I called at Varigs airline office and then later at Viasa to confirm my flight and was told that the 2nd leg of the flight Caracas – London had been cancelled and the next flight to Heathrow was Wednesday. Looks as though it’s a 4 day compulsory stay in Caracas, which is just about the last straw!

The disappointment is about all I can bear but I suppose I will overcome it just as I have the others, over the past 7 weeks. It’s Helen I feel really sorry for, she will be so sad, especially finding the airline I’m returning on is now Viasa, not Varig and not arriving for another 4 days. Must try and get a message to her. No hope of getting a bike box here, and anyway I shall more than likely use the bike in Caracas anyway so I shall pack it like I did in La Paz and hope for the best. Didn’t get to AM Express before the office shut, will try again tomorrow. Went back to the apartment in the evening and contemplated on the last minute arrangements made in downtown Rio, most had failed!, The return flight is a mess and I have to confirm tomorrow. Our hosts returned from their workshop in Petropolis at 10 o’clock, I wrote a few cards to my 1976 American friends, then bed. It’s midnight!, tomorrow we hope to make an ascent of Corcavado.

Called at the offices of the Touring club of Brazil today and spoke to a guy who replied to my inquiry way back in April, he was very pleased I found his advice useful and that a bicycle was our method of travel.

Friday 6th November
Rio de Janeiro

It’s the day I’m scheduled to fly home. Martin is staying here and leaves for the USA in a few days time. Before we part company we’ve planned to ride to the 710m mountain summit of Corcavado surmounted by 220 steps leading to the 40m high Statue of Christ. We got away at 10 but not before I prodded Martin several times!. I rang the airline who still knew nothing about the connecting flight from Caracus. Martin still wasn’t making a move so I set off alone because I was anxious about getting back in time for the flight tonight. I rode to the top without any sight of Martin not knowing that he had punctured.

It was a beautiful ride ascending the mountain with the Hang gliders swooping alongside. Steep at first but easing off later and through tropical growth echoing with bird songs. The sun shone beautifully and every now and then there were great views of the ocean, the beaches,and the city. We were lucky to have it so fine, yesterday it was so cloudy I don’t suppose very much could be seen at all! I was surprised to find how little traffic was using the road, I thought it would be chock-a-block full of tourists. It took 2 hours to ride to the top, and I am certainly glad that I took the time to do it. The immense size and height of the statue was amazing! and the views over Rio to Sugar Loaf Mountain, and Copacabana and Ipenema beaches were breathtaking!. Martin arrived about 3 ⁄4 of an hour later dressed in just a sleeveless skinsuit!!

We stayed until 2 taking photos and just enjoying being there! and then took another route down into the old part of Rio with cobbled streets and tram lines. Not such an attractive route as the one we used on the way up. Called at AM Express and found the credit card reissuing arrangement had failed (they knew nothing about it) so I cannot rely on that now! Who dreamed up the motto Don’t Leave Home Without It ??

Got back to the apartment and rang the airline again who told me my connecting flight will be dealt with on my arrival in Caracus. I’ve decided to ride to Rio airport tonight at 6.30 which will be in the dark, but might with a bit of luck miss the rush hour traffic which around here is HAIRAISING !! Arrived at the airport at 9 and while exploring the departure area we were told that bicycles were not allowed in the airport and was promptly shown the door by two security guards, who were adamant and told us to speak to Viasa airline. I dismantled the bike in the street then took it back to the baggage check and it went through quite smooth, underweight, but a 570 cruzeiros airport tax to pay. Martin had to lock his bike up outside the terminal while we went for coffee and say our goodbyes. Martin was not flying to the USA until Monday. It was an emotional moment to see each other go our separate ways having been in each others company continually for SIX WHOLE WEEKS! with all its pleasures,- and its problems! I had relied on him so much, and he had been a good friend and had shouldered the responsibilities of the trip so well, even though at times he had been infuriating, always leaving things to the last minute and then having to rush around like a madman to get things done! His route finding was very reliable except at times I never knew what he was up to and sometimes in towns he NEVER got it right!

The plane took off at 00.50 on a 5 hour flight landing at Simon Bolivar airport CARACAS Venezuela 6.20. The local time is 1 hour behind at 5.20. The bike came through baggage OK but I had a problem. I’d discovered at Rio when dismantling the bike that the rear spindle was broken and somehow I’ve got to solve that. No chance of exploring Caracas unless I do. I assembled the bike and set about arranging a connecting flight to Heathrow. Found there is nothing available until Wednesday which means I’m trapped here ALONE for 5 days! My cash situation is tight! and I’ve left RIO without it (American Express!). I didn’t think I’d need much on the way home anyway.

I changed my last 50 cents at the Cambio (420 Bolivars to the dollar) and hoping that the bike is rideable I set off at 9 o’clock to explore Caracas for a few days. It took me along the coast towards the docks only to find that the city is over the other side of a mountain and I’m going the wrong way!. I had to ride back to the airport, turn inland and ‘UP’. It was very hot and the back wheel was not going too well, so I just stuck it into its lowest gear and gently made my way over the mountain. It was a long way, about 28km and I could see the motorway below me which had made my road obsolete, not a car did I see for 2 hours, but the last hour was through shanty towns.

Tough climbing continued with big American clapped out cars dumped and laying about all over the place!. There were people fetching and carrying water and an unpleasant smell wherever the road was wet!. Arrived at 1 o’clock and made my way into the centre. After sampling the coffee I started to look for a bike shop. Found one but they did not have the rear spindle I was looking for. They sent me to another place which took some finding! but they did have the necessary spare. They fitted it and gave me their T shirt for 50 bolivar so that was that problem solved. My Blackburn bag rack is broken but I can’t fix that!

Roamed around finding my bearings and then looked for the lowest priced hotel. Everywhere was full or wouldn’t let me take the bike inside. A native guy in one of the hotels offered to help me in my search and we called at endless places, but he didn’t do any better. I finally had to demand we stopped otherwise we’d still be searching. I rode alone east to Plaza Venezuela and Sabana Grande trying every hotel I passed. It was now dark and I had resigned myself to having to sleep in the park, when at last! the Hotel Madrid appeared and I tried that. Was I glad I did!! there was a room!. It was 50B (£6) own bathroom and I was really in need of a sleep as I had flown all night. After a good clean up I went out for a pizza and coffee which now leaves me with only 50 Bol left from the 210 I started with this morning. Things are now desperate! it looks as if I’ll be living on bread and sleeping rough from now on. I noticed by the way that here in Venezuela they follow the South AM way of not putting toilet paper down the toilet, but in a basket at the side.

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Sunday 8th November
Caracas Venezuela

Had a good nights sleep and made good use of the wash-up facilities, a nice cold shower! and washed a T shirt. Went out for coffee after my own bread and cheese breakfast in my room. Returned and made ready to start another day! Just as I left the hotel I discovered a soft front tyre, it was 11am by the time I had repaired it. Made my way to the Plaza Venezuela to find that a number of bike riders were making their way into Los Cobos park. I followed them to find a bicycle race going on. Lots of “bikies” wanted to talk to me and I tried as best I could, but my Portuguese is NIL. Most of them offered me food, oranges, rolls, and fruit juice. Collected a couple of race souvenirs, one rider even gave me his race number!

Left at 2 and rode back to the city centre, took a few pictures then decided to make for the coast to explore that. Had to make two attempts to go the right way because I was turned away from the motorway by the police who got quite excited! over me wanting to ride a bike!. I returned the way I had come but DOWN the mountain this time. It had become very warm and was to remain sunny all day, the descent was in cloud but still warm. Called in at the airport Cambio and then went along the coast to Caixa De Mar. I sorted out a place to sleep on a deserted beach, there was nothing more suitable. Here people are living in shacks, it’s a rocky shoreline and there’s rubbish everywhere, this place was alongside a military area. I went back 2km to eat and waited till it got dark, then returned to find the beach spot. Very soon I had an armed MP beside me, he was quite friendly and stayed and talked for an hour while he was doing his guard duty. He said I could stay until morning and even sent his friend to get a Coke for me. I’ve no tent (Martins got that) I’ll just do what I can with my sleeping bag.

Monday 9th November
Caracas

The guards woke me at 6.30 and by 7 I was heading West along the coast on another sunny morning. Coffee at 5km and by 9 o’clock the road had left the coast and I was high in the mountains again, so much for my Carribean beach ride! Decided to ride 20km to the next town of Carayaca and then return down the mountain to the coast and ride back East. A funeral procession passed as I left Carayaca, two coffins, one a childs being carried by pall bearers and preceded by a hearse that was playing taped music and contained two mourners. Following were a dozen or more children carrying huge floral tributes, and then many townsfolk all moving very slow.

After buying some ham, bread, and jam I descended back to Caixa De Mar and swam at a private beach which now looked as if it had been taken over by squatters! Rode on to La Guaira and Matucu for a swim on another deserted private beach. All the coastline has “Playa Prohibida” notices displayed but there were people swimming here, so I joined them. Rode on to Naiguata afterwards until dusk looking for a campspot, with a short interlude at a roadside house where as I rode by, I was invited in for coffee and spoken to in English. I’ve now found a spot beside the ocean, quite rocky, but no one around and it looks safe enough to spend a night on the beach again. I’m still about 15km away from Naiguata.

Tuesday 10th November
Naiguata Caracas

Slept on a piece of board which was a bit uncomfortable! but I did get some sleep. Rose at 8am to a lovely warm sunny morning and the Pelicans perched on rocks a few yards out in the sea. Rode into Naiguata for breakfast, it was quite a nice sea front but I could not get access to it, or the marina which looked like a “Million Dollars” (all private property I expect). I approached the town and decided this was as far East as I should go, I’d better make my way back to the Airport in preparation for the flight home (don’t want to miss this one!). Had a swim on my way past yesterdays beach, now very hot!

I’m getting anxious about the flight and afraid that something else will go wrong. I had this thought during the night that my ticket says the flight is 10.30pm tomorrow but if a 24 hour clock is used (as it should be) 10.30 is in the morning not evening! I’d better be there real early, in case!! So onto Matucu and a nice fish lunch on a beach parade under the palms outside the restaurant. Tried a couple of hotels as it seemed a good place to settle, but it was 80B a room and I didn’t have that much money, so I went on and “sussed” out a beach to sleep on near La Guaira. The beach again was polluted with domestic rubbish and running alive with rats! Is this why “Playa Prohibida” notices are here? Went on into La Guaira for refreshment and returned to the beach after dark under a brilliant moonlight sky to do a spot of guard duty (perhaps rats won’t venture on to sand).

Didn’t see any evidence of rats, only what looked like giant cockroaches! and only the odd one on the sand. I chanced a lay down at 10, not too peacefully as the main road was right behind me although no one else was on the beach.

Wednesday 11th November
La Guaira, Caracas

Woke at 6 and spent some time watching the Pelicans diving for fish. Once again I was thankful to have had a safe night. After a swim and bread and jam for breakfast I was on my way for coffee to last nights restaurant. Had to pump my tyre up again, even though I’d changed it last night when I punctured riding back to the beach. Got to the airport at 8.45 to find that the flight time is 22.30 so 10.30pm was correct after all and I’m much too early! So a day on the beach at Caixa De Mar will use up the time. Spoke to Luis Leon in the arrival hall, we exchanged addresses, his card contained a personal message inviting me to his home! Bad luck! it came just that little bit too late. Changed my tube on the beach ready for the afternoons ride back to the airport, I’m watching the planes flying overhead and I can hardly wait for my turn to climb aboard and get back home to Helen and the family. It’s an exciting time but waiting is almost unbearable.

Went to Caixa for lunch and back to the beach for a swim in the afternoon. Made my way to the airport at 5 with a stop off for the last of that wonderful South American coffee, just couldn’t wait any longer to prepare for the journey home Had a good wash and change at the airport (first one for four days). Went through all the formalities OK and I am now actually aboard! “YIPPEE”. It’s a Viasa airline D.C.10 stopping over at Madrid and Paris on its way to London Heathrow. Gave up watching the Glenda Jackson – Walter Matheau film as the dialogue was in Spanish!. Landed Madrid at 6.40, the passengers gave the pilot a resounding clap when he touched down safely!!!! Took off for Paris at 8 after exploring the terminal. Spain looked very brown and dry but sunny until halfway through France and then it clouded over. Landed Paris Orly at 9.40, disembarked and explored that terminal before finally taking off and was homeward bound to Heathrow. A marked change in temperature now so it’s goodbye to those hot days and warm nights!

The journey’s over and a multitude of my thoughts and feelings have been recorded in this diary. Upon my return Helen also recorded her thoughts and feelings in the following wonderful poem.

TRAVELLING

HE TRAVELS HIGH HE TRAVELS LOW
HE TRAVELS FAST HE TRAVELS SLOW
In search of what I hear them say
As with bicycle boxed he flies away
For they have not known the feel of spring
And the seasons four his iron steed can bring
Don’t you mind they say to me
The one who is left to wait patiently
Mind! what word is this
I know the call I know the bliss.
HE TRAVELS HIGH HE TRAVELS LOW
HE TRAVELS FAST HE TRAVELS SLOW
The open road mile after mile
The desert path the mountain trail
He meets the challenge every one
With wind and rain and snow and sun
Onward where his pedals take him
To meet the faces of the nation
Where language proves to be no barrier
And smiling faces greet this wanderer
HE TRAVELS HIGH HE TRAVELS LOW
HE TRAVELS FAST HE TRAVELS SLOW
His appetite once more fulfilled
He leaves the tracks he leaves the hills
He leaves the sea he leaves the shore
His eyes are homeward bound once more
For here is comfort food and rest
And love that beats within the breast
As VIASA* lands with lights that burn
I thank the Lord for his safe return

* Venezuela Int Air, South America.