After 2 days waiting around, signing another form every couple of hours, the Peruvian authorities released our bikes. What a circus – but totally expected. In 2002 when we came into Peru on motorcycles from Chile we were held up at the border for 30 hours. Eight years has seen little progress with the make-work schemes that such red tape engineers. Still we found a good restaurant in Lima and our Sicilian chef Marcello kept us cheerful at the end of a long day sitting in queues at the mercy of the cretins in Peruvian Customs. See photos here.
Heading down the road to Nazca, makes one genuinely appreciate the green, green grass of home. How these folk manage to scrape a living out of the desert sands that line the Pacific on this side one will never know. It might have been raining cats and dogs up in Machu Picchu but down here it remains as dry as a bone, as always. Good to be riding but still short of sleep and yet to get in the swing of long days in the saddle.