A perfect plan, undone by poor advice!

 

The route around the collapsed bridge at Casma ending up testing our resolve.

 

On Sunday we had departed the hotel VistaMar on the beach north of Casma to see how far we could get up into the Andes east of Casma. Up and over was the plan, arriving back on the Pan-American highway north of the collapsed bridge. We knew that conditions were treacherous, with the roads in the mountains suffering from extensive flooding and rock slides.  In some places we were told the roads had been washed away in in others covered in rock slides. We also knew that there were teams of Peruvian road workers determined to keep the main arteries clear.

 

Overnight at the truckers hotel we had stayed in we had been told various accounts of the best approach. Some told us to get to Huarez and then to head on up the N3 and not to try and drop down until well beyond Casma. Others, truck drivers and police, told us to drop down from Huarez to Casma, minimising our time in the mountains and by doing so getting beyond the failed bridge. First stop Huarez!

 

We left the truckers Hotel at first light after Nigel had had to sit on his horn for about half an hour to wake some dozy pickup driver who had blocked him in. And then we were off rising, rising, twisting and turning once again. The traffic was relatively light, who else after all wanted to be heading into the mountains in the aftermath of Cyclone Yaku! There were a few heavy convoys of trucks transporting mining equipment but they were easily circumvented and on upwards we pushed eventually reaching about 4200m.

 

The map seemed to show that once up at this height we joined the N3 main road heading to Huarez and then on north but I never really noticed the roads joining and certainly no improvement in the tarmac. The N3 was a pot holed nightmare!. Many of them relatively minor but ever so often what I like to call “an axel breaker”, to be avoided at all costs. It’s an extremely tiring way to drive but onwards we battled across the high plains to Huarez. Once again the only times we were stoipped by the police was for a photoshoot which was surprising when 3 100 year old cars turnup in the remote Andes. Somehow i would expect someone to wonder what we are doing there!

 

You drop down into Huraez the main city in this part of Peru and the road disintegrates into rubble and chaos as is often the case. The City was busy but had a uncertain air with a very much more obvious police presence. A combination of the damage wrought by Cyclone Yaku and the recent political uncertainty has clearly impacted the City.

 

Before attacking the road down to Casma we stopped at a fuel station where there was a considerable contingent of police and took the opportunity to once again confirm that the road was to Casma and that we would come out the north side of the failed bridge. After all we still had the opportunity to go further north along the N3 and try and drop down to Chimbote. The police once again confirmed that we would get down to Casma and then on north. So off we went, down the wriggling road, ducking and diving around the rock slides, flooding the flooded streams.

 

 

 

Only once did we get stopped by locals blocking the road, claiming that they had single headedly opened the road, moved mammoth boulders and deserved to be financially rewarded for their efforts. I decided that the appropriate response was to have a discussion about civic pride in times of adversity, I speaking no Spanish and the locals speaking no English it became glaringly obvious that they were wasting their time and let us on our way. As we regrouped after this encouter, beside a fast flowing river, crossed with a rickety wooden bridge, Nigelk spots a tarantula deperatly seaking higher ground. Nonone wants one of those in the cars!

 

 

 

Down and down we went and finally at about 15:00 we were onto the flat and heading into Casma. We could taste the lobster and Chablis on the beach this evening after a 400km diversion to get north of the failed bridge.

 

As we rolled into Casma, firstly we were astonished to see the bridge on our left standing, with lorries right across it, the huge line of traffic snaking up the hillside, and then catastrophe dawned as we realised that there were tow bridges in Casma, the first was standing it was the second which had collapsed. We were now about two miles further on than we had been when we arrived on Saturday.

 

To say the hearts sank is an understatement. We were still not over the bridge, our co-drivers were waiting in Trujillo 200km north, it was 16:00 and we had nowhere to stay in a city which had about 20km of traffic surrounding it. The situation did not look good and worst case we would be sleeping in the cars. And then it began to rain! 

 

 

We stopped at a petrol station which had an odd sort of family venue next door to it which included pools, a football pitch, picnicking sites etc etc. Chris went to negotiate a possible venue for tonight and blow me he succeeded. We had four beds for the night plus some beer and dinner. Whatever the conditions they were better than sleeping in the car, or so we thought! The clue perhaps was in the state of the swimming pools which looked like an entomologist’s killing jar!

 

 

The roof on our accommodation was rudimentary to say the least. Yes we had four beds but only one of the rooves was entirely water proof. The sitting area and the other bedrooms basically poured water in. If we had been unlucky to have had electricity then I think we would have all fried! It was without doubt the most uncomfortable night of the trip to-date and the possibility is that we will be here until Thursday