Mexico, Central & South America > Peru > Sacred Valley and Machu Picchu > Cuzco > Articles > Overland Uncovered: South America

Having backpacked through the region almost a decade ago, I was particularly excited about returning to South America, to see how an organised overland trip would compare to those days of footloose (if often undirected) solo wandering. We would be zigzagging a three thousand mile, five-week, course along the backbone of South America to take in parts of the world’s greatest rainforest, some of its most spectacular mountain scenery and a few of the wildest beaches.

I knew from experience that it would have been impossible to see what this trip promised had I been travelling independently. It had once taken me four days to hitchhike from the market town of Otavalo into the fringe of Ecuadorian Amazonia, but this time the truck transported us much deeper into the ‘heart of darkness’ in only two. A night under canvas, lulled by a gurgling mountain stream, was a welcome substitute for a mosquito-plagued night in a hammock, next to a family of snuffling village pigs. A fiery chilli con carne with garlic bread replaced greasy dishes of caldos de patas (pig’s foot soup – with the feet still in it) in a succession of roadside comedores. The rum tasted just as good as it ever did.

The main way in which an operator can try to keep its prices low is to limit the number of nights in hotels: the second is to cut down on the quality of those hotels. Nevertheless, even the lodgings that budget overland companies use are a cut above the usual backpackers’ hangouts that you find in the backstreets of Lima or Nairobi. It seems that, in their selection of accommodation, overland operators try to avoid any complaints by rising to the expectation of ‘highest common denominator’ among their clients. I for one had been happy to arrive in Quito and not to return to the cold-water flophouse where I had been mugged during my last visit.

Near the jungle town of Tena we stayed in the wonderfully-located Amarongachi Lodge and spent a few days trekking, rafting and trying to get an insight into daily life in a Quichua village. The Quichua are struggling to hold onto what remains of their traditional beliefs and jungle skills in a shrinking territory far beyond the land of the dominant numerous Quechua highland people.

Most responsible overland companies put an emphasis these days on supporting sensitive local tourism operations. Recognising not only their cultural responsibilities, but also the good business sense that is inherent in protecting an area in which they may be regular visitors for years to come, many are heavily involved in projects that support indigenous communities. This has helped overlanding to develop beyond the quarantined world-through-the-windscreen image that it once suffered from. Dragoman seem to be leading the ‘overlanding eco-game,’ with many of their Latin American tours and almost all of their African expeditions embracing at least one local community project.

Anyone who has travelled solo and slept under canvas for long spells will appreciate the feeling of blessed relief that comes from knowing that you do not need to scout frantically for a camp as darkness closes in and that wherever you stop for the night you will have the security that comes with a group of people. The overlanding grapevine had once again passed along word about some particularly beautiful ‘free-camping’ spots and we slept on highland passes where condors soared and deserted beaches where we watched herds of migrating whales following the Humboldt Current.

As with most overland trips, many of the highlights of the itinerary were ‘optional extras.’ But if this is your once-in-a-lifetime trip to South America why would you miss an opportunity to fly in a light-aircraft over the mysterious Nazca Lines?; to take a boat trip out to the massive sea-lion herds of Islas Ballestas?; to visit the unique floating islands of Titicaca?; or to hike the four-day Inca Trail to Machu Picchu?

Paradoxically, even on the infamously crowded paths of the Inca Trail in a group of twenty people, it was possible to feel about as solitary as you could ever get. Oasis had been leading tours through Cuzco for long enough to have found excellent guides who got us underway very early on the first day so that, as we progressed along the trail we were constantly one stage ahead of the crowd. I walked most of the last stage totally alone, soaking up the eerie atmosphere of those ancient paths.

There would necessarily be long days of driving between Quito and La Paz, and the brochure had warned that some stages would be on particularly ‘arduous and punishing’ dirt-tracks. The South American truck differed in several ways from the African ‘Whale.’ Glass windows and a heating system were necessary here as early morning starts could be icy in the Andean highlands. The seating was a mix of inward and forward facing seats but the passengers shifted often enough so that nobody was at a disadvantage.

For a few people the travelling time seemed to weigh heavily. One English couple complained and the driver could only point out: “I’m sorry, but do you realise that there’re more than 3,000 miles between Quito and La Paz? How do you think we’re going to get there if not by driving?”

This couple, like some other ‘experienced travellers’ I’d known in Africa, had originally been planning to travel alone in South America. Realising that overlanding represented the most affordable way to see all the sights that they had set their hearts on, they had - perhaps against their better judgement - decided to join an overland trip. Thus they saw themselves as ‘solo travellers,’ linked to the group only by necessity. They considered that the camping was a waste of time and that its sole benefit was to save on the cost of hotels and then they decided that, although they were happy to eat the food that others prepared, they would refuse categorically to take their turn as cooks!

The crew had never, in many years of overlanding, heard of such a situation and finally relations broke down sufficiently so that the offending couple were asked to leave at the next convenient city. They travelled onwards alone and very likely ended up having a wonderful trip…and the atmosphere in the truck was certainly improved by their absence.

This was an extreme situation but it is fair to say that the responsibility of cooking for two-dozen people on a camp-cooker could be enough to send even the most confident of chefs into a sweat. Fortunately, the crews (who might spend almost half the nights of the year bush-camping) have so much experience that, unless you want to attempt something more challenging, you really need not be much more than a kitchen assistant during your cooking duty. The emphasis is on single-pot meals (though in almost every group there is a vegetarian alternative) and the food, though surprisingly good, vary depending on what local produce is available. Unless you are the sort of intrepid traveller who thrives on mopane worms or guinea-pig you will certainly find that in many parts of the world you will eat far better around the overlander’s campfire than you ever would in village marketplaces. A Christmas dinner of spit-roasted pork (with crackling and apple sauce), roast spuds, three-veg and gravy followed by cake and custard, served on the shore of Lake Malawi, had remained an unexpected highlight of the African trip.

Overlanding is essentially a ‘team-sport’ and tales abound of legendary expeditions that were stranded by the side of mosquito-infested Congolese potholes for four or five days while they worked to extract their truck. You would imagine that it would be enough to make even the most dedicated passenger rebel, but apparently this is rarely, if ever, the case. Most overlanders are keen to ‘take the rough with the smooth’ and there was never any lack of volunteers to wield a shovel in the red Zimbabwe mud or the hot Peruvian sand on the odd times when we got stuck.

Be prepared to hit the open road with an open mind and there is an extremely good chance that you will make great friends during the course of an overland trip and it is often the spirit of teamwork that forges these friendships. Adventure and friendship are what make an overland trip a success. If these are two of the things that draw you to travel then overlanding just might be for you after all.

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