The saddest room in all of Peru

Church dome in Cajamarca

We stopped for a night in the lovely colonial town of Cajamarca on our drive west to the Peruvian coast from our adventures in the highlands. Like much of Peru, this town has a rich pre-colonial history complete with Inca baths, aqueducts, and funerary structures. In the morning we spent an hour wandering the Ethnographic and Archaelogical Museum, an interestingly decrepit museum bursting with ancient pottery, jewelry, and fabrics. These priceless treasures were displayed somewhat haphazardly in dusty glass cases and on wooden bookshelves, with labels that looked like they were typed on a 50 year old typewriter. We felt like we were visiting a museum of a museum, since this is what we imagine Indiana Jones' workshop might have looked like back in the 1940s. We then made a quick visit to the Ransom Room to pay our respects to Atahualpa, the last king of the Inca Empire.

The Ransom Room (photo courtesy Wikimedia Commons)

Before the Spanish conquest of the Inca Empire, European explorers brought smallpox to the continent with disastrous consequences. The seated Inca king as well as his eldest heir both contracted smallpox and died in 1527, setting off an inheritance struggle. Two sons of the recently deceased king born to different mothers both claimed the to be the rightful heir. Huáscar was of royal blood, so was supported by the nobility as well as religious and political leaders. His half-brother Atahualpa was considered illegitimate, but was well liked, intelligent, and a cunning military thinker. Huáscar gathered his forces near Cusco, in southern Peru, while Atahualpa was supported in Tumebamba, a city in what is now northern Ecuador. Between 1531 and 1532 over 400,000 troops fought battles throughout the empire, with over 100,000 casualties, but Atahualpa reportedly won every battle. When Huáscar was taken prisoner in 1532, Atahualpa was declared victor of the civil war. Before he could return to Cusco to claim his throne, he encountered Spanish conquistador Francisco Pizarro in Cajamarca. While Atahualpa had around 7,000 supporters with him, they were armed with slings and rocks and protected by leather armor. Pizarro had only 180 men, but had 30 horses, 4 canons, iron swords, and guns, none of which the Incas had ever seen before. Feeling unthreatened by Pizarro's small force of men, Atahualpa left much of his army outside the city and entered unprotected with a small group of lords to greet Pizarro. The Spanish launched a surprise attack, easily slaughtered this force and took Atahualpa prisoner. The battle of Cajamarca should more accurately be described as a massacre as with its superior weapons, the Spanish then proceeded to kill most of the 7,000-man strong Inca army. As ransom for his release, Atahualpa filled the 85 square meter 'Ransom Room' once with gold and twice with silver. The Spanish took the riches and held a mock trail of Atahualpa. After finding him guilty of killing his brother Huáscar and revolting against the Spanish crown, they executed him. The fragmented Inca empire still took 40 years to conquer, but the Spanish eventually gained control over the vast area.

Girls watching us drive through their village on dusty dirt roads

After visiting the Ransom Room and wistfully wondering about alternative outcomes, we headed west. Supposedly the road from Cajamarca to the coastal town of Trujillo was a modern, paved highway. We were looking forward to a change of pace after spending the previous three days jolting over gravel mountain passes and peering down precipitous cliffs as we changed flat tires. We asked locals for directions and headed out of town. On dirt roads we passed ancient Inca aqueducts among the spooky rock gardens that sprouted out of the tops of hills, and wondered when the road was going to change to pavement. We think we ended up taking a very 'local' shortcut, as it was three hours of gravel switchbacks through tiny villages before we found the highway. We still didn't get any road relief though. Almost the entire highway, all 4 hours of it to the coast, had recently been ripped up and was in various stages of reconstruction. We arrived in Trujillo dusty and tired, only to find that none of the city's hospitals had Chris's rabies shot. So no rest for the weary, we spent the next day driving another eight hours to Lima, where they did have the appropriate rabies vaccine. We found a great hostel on the coastal cliffs of the city and are resting here for several days. And not driving anywhere.

The amazing race off the gringo trail

Rice field in the Rio Marañón Basin

We left Chiclayo early in the morning anticipating a long drive into the northern Peruvian highlands. Our plan was to stop for the night in the village of Chachapoyas before venturing out the following day on unpaved roads of unknown quality to the remote ruins of Kuelap. We made good time crossing Peru's lowest pass in the Andes at 7,000 feet before descending into the Rio Marañón basin. Our hearts sank when our rapid progress was halted in the humid river valley as traffic came to an abrupt stop. We had heard of but never encountered protesters blocking roads and figured that our luck had run out. However, we were approached by a police officer who informed us that the road from the valley to Chachapoyas was closed every day from 6 am until 6 pm for repairs. We could join the growing crowd of cars, buses, and trucks and wait for the road to reopen at 6 pm. While we strive to never drive at night, this time we had no choice. Little did we anticipate that the most harrowing aspect of this drive would not be driving in the dark, but navigating the throngs of impatient Peruvians in a fight to the death to see who could be the first on the road when it reopened. People returned to their cars around 5:30 pm, started honking their horns and revving their engines at 5:45, and at 6 pm the floodgates were opened. We have noted with some irritation that Peruvians are by far the worst drivers we have encountered on this trip, and they truly lived up to their bad reputation in this situation. There was no waiting quietly in line for their turn here. A narrow two lane dirt road was turned into a three lane, one-way demolition derby, as twelve hours of pent up frustration were released over the course of several short minutes. It all seemed to work out though, since we didn't see any fender-benders, cars rolled into a ditch, or fiery explosions. Just after dark around 7 pm, we rolled into the small town of Pedro Ruiz, found a cheap hostel, and called it quits for the night. While we were still 30 minutes away from Chachapoyas, we were beat from our race across the Andes.

Bus passing a van passing a truck carrying highly flammable materials
seconds after the road reopened

Wandering the streets of Pedro Ruiz in the morning on our way out of town we got some curious looks from the locals. This town is not commonly visited by tourists. When children stared at us we smiled and waved. Some would smile back, while others seemed so baffled by our appearance they just continued to stare. Anyone who knew any English words (usually 'hello', 'goodbye', or 'thank you') would shout them towards us by way of welcome, while others would yell 'Hola gringos,' but in a very friendly way. The term gringo doesn't seem to have the negative connotations here that it does in Mexico or Central America. A thirty minute drive took us to Chachapoyas where the paved road ended. We then continued on dirt and gravel roads through stunning valleys as we began the climb to 9,000 feet to visit Kuelap. The one-lane road wound through small adobe villages and we handed out stickers to the many children walking along the road. Luckily we only met about four cars during the five hour drive, since the passing areas were scarce and often on the edge of precipitous cliffs that plunged hundreds of feet down to the valley floor.

Reconstructed home within the ruins of Kuelap

We could see the giant walls of the fortress-like Kuelap as we reached the end of the road. Construction of Kuelap by the Chachapoyas people began around 500 AD, and the huge complex is surrounded by 60 foot tall stone walls broken by only three narrow entrances. The high altitude Andean cloud forests of Northern Peru were inhabited by the Chachapoyas as early as 200 BCE, who were conquered by the Incas shortly before the Spanish conquistadors arrived. We were the only people visiting the ruins that afternoon, and we wandered among the 400 circular stone dwellings that are protected by the daunting fortress walls. Intricate stonework representing the eyes of jaguars, snakes, and pumas adorned the dwellings' walls. We could also peer into the deep wells dug within the homes to bury deceased relatives and see the flat stones used for grinding grains. After completing our visit we ate a huge lunch in a local family's home (for an incredible deal of 2.50 soles ($0.82) per person) and then spent the silent night camping in our loyal caballo in the grassy parking lot just below the walls of Kuelap.

Endless Andes rolling from Kuelap to the Pacific Coast

We headed further into the wilds of the Andes and off the gringo trail the next day on an epic drive on one-lane gravel roads to the mountain town of Celendín. We wound through a lush river valley past tiny adobe villages and people on horseback herding sheep before climbing back up into the Andes. Two persistent dogs intent on snapping our tires to shreds chased our car for several minutes so we almost missed the fact that we were finally at Abra de Barra Negro, or Black Mud Pass. At 12,000 feet, an awesome range of huge peaks opened in front of us spreading out into the distance like Big Sur on steroids. We then spent too many hours on narrow switchbacks descending to 3,200 feet, puncturing a tire, climbing back up to 10,000 feet, and finally descending into Celendín. While we traveled only 136 miles from Kuelap to Celendín, it took us over 10 hours. I guess 30,000 feet in elevation change in one day will slow you down a bit. Next we head back out to the coast of Peru as we need to visit a big city for Chris's last rabies shot.

Rubble and ruins in northern Peru

The Pan-American Highway shimmers in the distance

After spending several relaxing days with the Burbanos (friends of the family) in their lovely homes in Guayaquil and Salinas, Ecuador, we headed south for Peru. Huge signs on the newly paved Pan-American highway marked the way to the frontera (border) bypassing the frontier town of Huaquillas. We happily followed these signs until we suddenly realized we were in Peru. No passport check, no car import permit, no scary looking army people with automatic weapons. The normal border procedure has always involved two steps: leaving the departure country before proceeding to enter the arrival country, accompanied by lots of stamps, lines, and photocopies of documents. Something obviously wasn't right. Men shoveling gravel directed us onto dirt roads that led back into Huaquillas. We wound our way through a boisterous street market barely squeezing past push-carts and piles of pineapples to arrive at Peruvian immigration. While my Spanish isn't terrible at this point, I still haven't entirely mastered the past tense, so explaining our awkward situation was challenging. We felt a bit stupid saying that we had accidentally and illegally driven into Peru without officially leaving Ecuador or processing any of the necessary paperwork. The Peruvian officials couldn't seem to understand us when we said that no, we weren't trying to leave Peru to enter Ecuador, but in fact were trying to leave Ecuador to enter Peru. They eventually let us back into Ecuador and we proceeded to cross the borders in the right order with proper documentation. International incident avoided, we then sped into the wild coastal desert that spills across the northern Peruvian Pan-American Highway.

A lone tree bravely ekes out a living in the Peruvian desert

Skimming along the empty Pan-American, we swept through desolate small towns and bone-dry canyons. Shelters build from reeds and simple adobe buildings in varying states of decay occasionally interrupted the solitary landscape. We had the road to ourselves except for the rare bus or semi-truck blamming down the freeway. We enjoyed the stark beauty and rock-garden simplicity of the scenery until we reached our first destination, the small city of Chiclayo. Surrounded by archeological sites and home to several wonderful museums, we set out to visit the ruins and learn about the pre-Incan Moche people who lived here from 100 to 800 AD.

Ghostly remains of a church in Zaña, Peru

On the way to the ancient Moche pyramids of Sipán, we first passed through some more recent ruins in Zaña. Founded in 1563, this old colonial town was slated to become the capital of Peru until biblical floods destroyed the town in 1720. Cows wandered among the remains of churches poking out of wheat fields, and we meandered around the narrow dirt roads that cut through the desert. We also drove by tumble-down adobe walls and houses abandoned by all but the vultures, but weren't sure if these were recent or older remains. The flat desert landscape was then punctuated by the strange lump that is Sipán. It doesn't look like much from the outside, as rain and wind have worn down the truncated adobe pyramids, but it is home to one of the richest tombs northern Peru. First discovered by grave-robbers in the 1980s, it was in danger of being completely plundered until the police and a local archeological team intervened to save the priceless treasures. The 1700 year old Royal Tombs of Sipán contained fabulous ceramics, intricate gold and coral jewelry, and the remains of a Moche warrior priest and his loyal subjects. This lord was buried with women, soldiers, dogs, llamas, and took plenty of jewelry, food, and weapons to live well in the afterlife. We will continue our exploration of pre-Colombian culture as we head to the northern highlands of Peru to visit the Chachapoyan site of Kuelap.