After the marathon 14-hour ride the day before I had a leisurely breakfast in Huanchaco (a rich Trujillo beach house suburb with a not so spectacular beachfront) and set off once again along the barren PanAmericana south towards Lima. Not really sure how far I would make it I drove an unpleasant 6 hours or so alone until I arrived in the decidedly un-touristy town of Barranco at dusk. After checking out one smelly hotel recommended by the Lonely Planet I opted for another one just up from the bus station (Hospedaje Leoncio Prado – $7) and went to a bar around the corner for a beer. Accosted by two desperate locals who drank my beer, begged money from me, and wanted to know why I wouldn’t take them to Canada – the notion of immigration and documents didn’t seem to resonate strongly with them.
I woke up at 6am determined to make it to Lima early and drove down the sometimes four lane and restricted access portion of the PanAmericana – alternatively sweating (when it wound far from the Pacific) and comfortable.
As I approached a roundabout noting the two police 4×4′s stationed on either side I slowed to about 85 km/hour as I passed the 45 km/hour limit sign. I was then waved down by the policeman whereupon we had the following conversation:
Are you Peruvian?
No. I’m from Canada.
You were registered going at 70km/hour (motioning towards the 4×4 presumably containing a radar speed gun) and it’s a 30 km/hour zone.
Nope!
Yes, you were!
No, I was going at 50 km/hour and anyway the sign says 45km/hour, not 30 km/h.
Do you have any money from Canada (is it the USD)? Would you give us a voluntary fee of $20 USD for gasoline for the police truck?
No the money is not the same. I don’t have any with me as I’m driving all the way south, I hope to get to Argentina.
No chance then? Ok. Shakes my hand and says Good Luck.
I stopped at the Reserva Nacional Lomas de Lachay park and since no one was at the gate, drove into the park -it was supposed to be a miniature cloud forest in the local foggy micro-climate. I wasn’t much to look at…
Approaching Lima I was pulled over by one of the 30 or so policemen waving down as many cars as they could. He wanted to see my documents (insurance wasn’t produced or requested) and was happy with my passport, migracion card, and motorcycle import permit. So I drove through the thick and dirty Lima traffic to arrive at about 11:30 at the Kokopelli Hostal on Calle Berlin in the trendy/yuppie neighbourhood of Miraflores, near the sea.
Huanchaco, Barranco, To Lima, Peru









Great fun, wasn’t it? The police dialogue was worth it. I’ve been there. Here a police story for you:
Going into Mexico with our St. Bernard in the back seat of the car. We had more papers for the dog than for us. All vet vaccines, registration, etc. etc. The policeman sitting by the shade in a wooden chair. “how much you want for the dog?” Us: “Sorry, not for sale”. Policeman: “Too bad! Go on”. My husband look at me and said: “Why the hell we went to all the trouble to get all the permits and vet bills for McKluan!” Me: “Do you want to go back and argue?”