BUS RIDE FROM HUANCAYO TO AYACUCHO, Peru ....... 9 long hours but so fabulous !! - 27th August

We woke up at 6am for our morning bus to Ayacucho. This time we used a different bus company called 'Molinas' (Named after an Empress), which covers most of these out of the way places. We presumed that better bus companies would not risk their buses (or passengers !!) on these rough roads. Got to the bus stop at 7.30am; it was cold and misty.


The people there were an interesting mix of people and were all local Peruvians moving from one mountain town to another; couples, mothers & children , single men, old women. Our bags were loaded on top of the bus this time (most other buses had them in the luggage hold in the bus ). By the time we left the main bus-stop the bus was more than full, with some passengers standing. There was a mix up with one of our tickets with that of a very young Andean mother. She had the gentlest and most calm face whilst the bus conductor was trying to sort out a place for her, and all the while she had her little 3 month old baby wrapped up at her back.

We left in time ; passed small dusty towns and soon we were on rough unsealed roads high up in the Andes. The mountainous and remote region south of Huancayo was largely out of bounds for much of the 1980's and 1990's. The road was still pretty dangerous and when you looked out of the window, you saw just a single-bus dusty track, with the sharpest of curves and bends, high mountains on one side and deep 2000ft ravines dropping all the way down on the other side to beautiful rivers below. The scenery was most spectacular and unbelievable.

Although our lives were entirely in the driver’s hands, we for some reason, did not fret as he seemed very skilled and experienced, and perhaps because everyone else on the bus was so "matter-of-fact" cool. The driver did not slow down no matter how narrow the road, and only once did he stop & reverse to manouver around one of the sharpest of bends.


Rossini was seated next to a young 20 year old girl, Dianata-America, who was studying in Huancayo but was actually from a small town (Huanta) closer to Ayacucho - she was going back for a small vacation. She was typical of the Peruvian temperament we had come to like - very reserved at first, to the point that she apologised under her breath every time her bag even slightly rolled and touched Rossini's foot, quickly pulling the guilty bag back. Then when Rossini initiated conversation with her about places we were passing - she was completely talkative, open and unreserved. She just talked non-stop in Spanish about everything - her life, her mother, her macho father who she could not live with, hence her living with her grandmother in Huancayo, what she wanted in life, etc. She was equally unreserved in her questions about us with almost no holds barred. She was quite smart and quickly realised when Rossini could not understand her, and would begin further simplifying what she was saying..........but she would not stop nor give up getting him to understand. Rossini certainly was entertained for quite a while.

We picked up many passengers and the aisle was full of people; the bus companies are not meant to have more than the seated number of passengers !! Going past these remote towns which were just a few mud houses clumped together, we did wonder how people would get from place to place, if these infrequent buses did not stop for them. Perhaps because the track was so narrow and restricted to one bus, we did not pass a single other vehicle all the way. Many of the village people must surely walk long distances.

Then we had this most interesting passenger - an old, near toothless woman in many flared skirts and a black bowler hat, carrying more plastic bags in the hands than she could carry. Each bag had 2 roosters or chickens. It was quite a job for her to keep them contained in the bags and we worried that they would be all over the bus. However there was some order and she put some on her lap, some on the overhead baggage space, some under her seat and every now and then she pulled their necks out of the bags to make sure they were okay....and every now and then they decided to try and make a break for it and crawled along the bus floor. We also had many vendors in and out of the bus selling food, fruit, bread etc. Never a dull moment. One man spoke passionately to all the passengers from the front of the bus of how the Chinese never suffered from cancer, and how cancer was the number one killer in Peru.....AND how by chance, he had the very tablets that the Chinese took daily to cure cancer, and even more fortunate, that he was selling these for a ridiculous low price of 5 Solas ($1.50) for 30 tablets.

We stopped at this little built up structure for lunch and toilet visits. We had some empanadas, chips and fruit that we had brought with us . The area was so desolate, the mountains very hardy and tough. We left in 30 minutes. It certainly was a very dusty trip, not hot though and the most interesting one. As we moved higher into the mountains and closer to Huanta & Ayacucho, the crowd in the bus was more and more Andean Indian, and we heard less and less Spanish and more Quechua being spoken. This was once the official language of the Inca Empire. Only recently have they begun teaching this in Universities - it is not taught in schools. Rossini was quite impressed to find a PC at an internet cafe which had Windows & Google in Quechua, rather than the usual Spanish.

We passed some of the most amazing and remote towns of a few people, schools with no more than 2-3 classrooms, and with always the large number of well-fed, well socialised and friendly dogs. The mother with the very gently face got off at a small town called Anko, which was two hours before Huanta. Huanta is about an hour from the final destination of Ayacucho. The final hour from Huanta to Ayacucho has sealed road which suddenly seemed so posh. The bus was stopped by police just before Ayacucho, and the old Chicken lady was asked (very politely) to get off as no animals were allowed on. Another standing passenger quickly pretended he was sitting with Letay on his lap, to avoid getting sent off too. After a bit of pleading, by the old chicken lady she was allowed back on.

Throughout the journey there was Andean Quena music playing, a lot of it with a woman singing in a higher than normal pitch. Ocassionally, there would be a Hindi Movie song played and it was even funnier to see some men whistle along with the Hindi music, as casually as they did with the Quena music.

The trip did tire us a lot and by the time we reached Ayacucho we were exhausted with stuffy noses, with dust covered bodies and bags..............but we all agreed (Letay perhaps slightly less than us) that that was the most spectacular, most exciting, and enriching bus ride we had ever taken. It did not seem like we were in the bus for over 9 hours. We were in Ayacucho at 5:30pm, and took the most run-down, flea ridden taxi into town. In the short 10 minute ride by taxi, Rossini was bitten by fleas all over. Nevertheless none of us were down after all the stimulation of all our senses during the days bus ride. Rossini would have gladly done it all again the next day.