On one roll through 2 America's. Or: with a BMW and a Kawasaki from Ushuaia to Alaska.

Seventh report (and last, for now) by Mirjam: 18 March - 14 April 2003.

We leave the smog-tainted Lima over the Panamericana and head for Ecuador. The moment we leave the city things are great again. We ride through the outskirts of the Andes. Sometimes we rise above the clouds and into the sun, knowing people below us look at the clouds; awesome!

After about 50 km we see the ocean. That's quite a change. Water to the left, the Andes to the right. And in between a fantastic road through the desert. Here the desert is like I always imagined. Very dry, no vegetation, no animals, and lots of sand. And not at all boring, there are many colors of sand: yellow-brown, red-brown, grey-brown, green-brown, dark brown, light brown, blueish brown. Incredibly beautiful! Too bad people make a mess of it. It seems garbage trucks randomly dump their loads in the gorgeous desert; preferably where there is no waste yet. Shame, shame, shame!

In the evening we reach our goal of the day: Trujillo. A medium-sized city, and we quickly find a place to stay. With a fine restautant, and a fine chef who manages to prepare me a tasteful diet diner. And Adriaan too gets something nice. Often Peruans ask you how if you like their cuisine. Unfortunately I can't answer that. I can only state the odors are promising. On the other hand, Adriaan doesn't miss a single opportunity to spoil his taste buds. And I enjoy the fact that he visibly enjoys his meals.

I feel fine, so next day we continue our trip. We still follow the Panamericana, which allows me to soak up the surroundings. Again we cross a desert area, although there is more vegetation now. And a lot more junk unfortunately. In Chiclayo I have a minor accident with a minivan. How I crave for a cigaret. But I haven't lit one up since Cusco, and I try to keep it that way. Fortunately no damage to the bike, and I only have a sore left hand/polse. After lunch (Adriaan has a delicious fish soup) we continue. But a small ache turns into a sizeable pain. At the end of the day I despise every village and toll booth, I have to clutch, and that hurts. Whenever possible I use my right hand to pull the clutch; not an ideal situation. We manage to reach Piura, but then it's over.

Poor Adriaan, he has to stop yet again. X-ray photos show no fractures, just a severe sprain. The doctor can only apply a pressure bandage and advise some rest.The only plus of this is that now I can test my pancreas. The question is: are my problems over because the pancreas has healed, or because of my strict diet? It turns out I still can't eat fat. If I do, it's trouble again. Oh well, that's clear now. The good news is that, now that I know this, I can keep this in mind, and there is no immediate need to return to Europe.

After 6 days we continue towards Ecuador, and end up in a coastal village called Mancora. Adriaan loves to ride in the mountains, but he adores the sea. We decide to stay here for 2 days. Now we don't have to cross the border on Sunday; all the better. We walk along the beach - one of us gets sunburnt - and through this typical tourist city. Adriaan eats a delicious ceviche, a kind of seafood salad.

Our next goal is Guayaquil; the largest harbor in Ecuador. There we want ot find out how we can ship the bikes to the US west coast. Panama (and so all of Central America) is out, because of my diet and the rain season there. We plan to visit it on our way back. So we leave early; it is a sizeable trip, and we need to cross the border.

At 10:30 we reach the border. Leaving Peru is a breeze, as is leaving any country. And we can enter Ecuador quickly as well. That is, we can, but not our bikes! We don't have a carnet de passage, and the customs officer can't be persuaded to admit our bikes without that piece of paper ("sir, who can afford such a bike here", and "we are doing a trip from Ushuaia to Alaska on bike; we can't even do that without them"). Adriaan tries the chief and the legal advisor, but to no avail. We can't enter with bikes. Disappointed we return to Peru. Luckily they don't make a fuss about our return. We don't have to redo all the paperwork. They just void our exit stamp.

We return to Mancora, and plan on trying another place to cross the border tomorrow. The owner of the hotel, Harry, is almost as disappointed as we are, and as a comfort he offers us a free stay for this night. And by coincidence an official of the Ecuadorian diplomatic services is also staying in the hotel, so contacts are quickly established. A call is placed to the consul in the city at the border, and we have to stop by tomorrow. He will write a letter for the customs, so we can enter Ecuador.

This business with the consul takes quite some time, so we won't be able to reach Guayaquil today, but that's no problem. As long as we can enter Ecuador. If only so we don't have to return to Lima, shipping the bikes from there is not a fun alternative. You can imagine our disappointment when the legal advisor refuses to accept the letter of recommendation from the consul. Again we retreat. And so we get to spend a fourth night with Harry (no, not another free stay).

But not all is lost. About 200 km away there is another crossing, a smaller one. Maybe they don't have a legal advisor, and a smarter officer (admitting tourists is making money for the country). We decide that we will return to Lima if this attempt fails as well. And you know what? We succeed! It takes an awful lot of time, but we are in! This is the first night in Ecuador.

Because of all this, we ended up more to the east than planned, so we won't be able to reach Guayaquil in one day. But that's alright, I have heard that Cuenca is definitely worth making a stop. Only, this stop turns out to be longer than planned. My intestines play up again, and two extra days of rest are required. We use them to have a serious talk about the rest of the journey.

We have already skipped going to Central America. We now consider shipping the bikes to the US, and use the time it takes the bikes to reach the US to get me better again. These are painful, confronting talks. And I have to admit I can't stand having to say I am not physically able to continue the journey. I see that as a sign of weakness, and I can't stand it. We - Adriaan even more than me - have been looking forward to this journey so much. It hurts to see the rest of the trip go up in smoke after slightly more than four months. I even suggest that Adriaan brings me home, and then continues the journey alone, but that sweetheart doesn't want to hear it. Of course he is disappointed as well; I silently cry for him.

The decision is made, so as soon as I am free of diarrhea we ride to Guayaquil. It's an interesting trip. Cuenca is at about 3200 meter, and before we reach the coast we have to climb even more. Again with our heads in the clouds! From this altitude nature changes at a fast rate. From sparse and arid to tropical and jungle-like. And as soon as we leave the mountains we are surrounded by banana plantations. With signs of the most well-known banana brands in Europe. I spot a yellow-green snake and, as we descend, several colorful birds. But I haven't seen any monkeys in the wild yet.

It is still early when we reach Guayaquil, so we immediately start looking for the company that can help us ship the bikes. We found their address on the Internet. But locating it is easier said than done. At 4 PM we still have no idea where we can find it, no one has been able to help us, and there seem to be no street maps of this city. I am tired an incredibly warm, so we call it quits for the day. We quickly locate a hotel with airco. We are still in the tropics, right at the coast, so it is humidly warm here.

The next couple of days are very busy for Adriaan. The shipping company from the Internet only does container loads, so another one must be found. That is fixed soon, so now we need a carpenter to build a crate for the bikes. That too goes smoothly, but when Adriaan visits him the next morning, he decides to call it off. He recommends a furniture builder, but he can't start until the next day, he doesn't have the materials for the crate. And when the guy can finally start building, customs tells us we can't export anything without permission. Acquiring permission will take two days, and we don't want to wait that long. Fortunately there is another way, so we get lucky again.

And I am glad too, my intestines are playing up again. The diarrhea is back, and this time I throw up as well. It seems as though the whole thing starts all over again, and I'm pretty sick of that. It's too close to our return home. The hastily arranged physician suspects (as does Adriaan) that the salmonella has been dormant, and is active again. So again I am on Ciproxine :-(. The doctor suggest doing some more tests in the hospital, but I refuse. I want to go home, as quickly as possible. There I will immediately check into a hospital, and they can do all the testing they want. But then I will have a doctor I can understand, and who understands me as well. Although we speak Castillian reasonably well by now, explaining the difference between an ache and pain, or between a stabbing pain and a nagging one is rather hard.

And so here I am, writing this last piece, on the plane. With slightly more than an hour and breakfast to go, this is the end of the journey reports. In about a year we hope to get on the road again. I will definitely write again. Hopefully until then.

Mirjam