The truth about South American traffic police.

Well what can I say about our experience of the Peruvian constabulary? Since being in South America since early January we have been ‘shaken down’ by the Bolivians and the Peruvians. We still have some way to go, so the game is not over but here’s how it seems to go.

 

 

There are the formal police check points which by and large are very straightforward. The vast majority only seem to stop the cars because they want their photographs taken which I have to say is a fair enough and we are always happy to oblige.

 

We had a checkpoint just north of Lima where the officer seemed to want every piece of paper I had (passport, drivers licence, vehicle insurance, temporary import permit etc etc) but didn’t seem to understand what any of them meant. I think he was somewhat inexperienced and was probably looking for a contribution towards his pension fund but got bored of waiting and let us go.

 

 

The first ‘shake down’ came on the duel carriageway to La Paz (Bolivia) when we were hauled over for driving faster than the 80km/hr national speed limit. We were, but so was every other vehicle including enormous trucks. We were shown the “camera image” showing exactly 100kph and then the rule book showing that a fine of $60 was payable. As I was sorting this out for my miscreant driver (David!) they decided to haul over the Rolls and claim that it was also doing 100kph+. Clearly this was nonsense and it was clear to the police team that they were not going to get Chris to accept that his car could do 100kpm+. They had bitten off more than they could chew, the Lagonda paid, the Rolls didn’t and we were on our way.

 

 

We had no trouble at any of the numerous police check points that waved us over. Smiles were exchanged, papers rarely examined and after photographs back on the road we went.

 

 

That was until the night of the drive to Trujillo. We had the nightmare night in the flooded cottage in Casma, we had the four hour wait to get across the bridge and then, against all our best inclinations a four hour night drive to Trujillo. We faced a tough drive with oncoming lorries with main beam full on, town after town that was still experiencing the after effects of the flooding from Cyclone Yaku, lorries stuck in the mud and trucks slipped off the roads. The worst was getting through the towns along the way and then in Chimbote at about 23:00 a solitary, plump police motorcyclist slipped in behind the tail-end Lagonda and hauled me over. The accusation was that I had jumped a red light, he had seen me do so. What is so telling in these situations is that they always occur in a place of good cell phone coverage so that Google translate works. I know that I hadn’t jumped the light, he insisted that I had and that the fine was Soles 860 ($230). We debated for some time and then he relented, if I wanted to pay “under the counter” (Google translate) then the fine would only be Soles 800. He was anxious not to be too obvious about the transaction and produced his citation book not to write one out but so that the cash could be slipped beneath it. I told him I had no Soles and I would pay in dollars which seemed to delight him. For his troubles he received a £20 note and a wedge of Argentine pesos. Good luck in trying to change those! An unedifying experience  but the eventual result was not entirely a degree of satisfaction.

 

The next encounter occurred north of Trujillo, once again having attracted the attention of a solitary motor cycle officer. Once again he seemed well fed, perhaps a consequence of the various tourists he successfully extracts money from. This time Didier was driving and the offence was overtaking on a double yellow, for which he was guilty but so too are the entire driving population of Peru. Once again the fine amounted to $200+ and we settled for $100 cash, no receipt required! I felt that I had let the guy off and should at least have included some Argentine pesos but sadly I had got rid of my last ones in Chimbote!

 

The first stop in Ecuador was a full blown army checkpoint. Heavily armed, all  with face masks on but certaiunly not immune to the charms of our french mystro. We chatted, we laughed and we joked and we didn't produce a single piece of paperwork. Photos were exchanged, no faces were reveiled and once more we were on our way.

 

 

It is so sad that this is how the system works but that is the truth and one just has to work around it. For the record all the photographs in the article were taken of police officers carring out their law abiding duties, and not of those displaying somewhat dubious practices.