Andes and Amazon
on the South American overland trail

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.
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 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.

An insight into the world of Overlanding

Intro:
For someone who is nervous about travelling alone or new to travel in undeveloped countries the advantages of an overland trip are obvious. For many experienced travellers, however, the idea of arriving in an isolated South American pueblo or an African wilderness camp with a ready-made, pre-packaged group of ‘like-minded fellow travellers’ is not an attractive one. To gaze at an endless ‘road-movie’ of remote and beautiful countryside and intriguing communities through the windows of a rattling metal cocoon might not be your vision of the ideal travelling experience either.
            But increasing numbers of erstwhile solo travellers are realising that there is much more to overlanding than meets the eyes and that the big trucks offer opportunities that can rarely be matched in an independent trip.
            In countries where the tourism infrastructure might be minimal, or even non-existent, overlanding might be the only option for a traveller who would prefer to be spending their holidays on something more exciting than sitting around a series of backcountry bus-stands. If you think too that this is nothing more than a glorified package tour - a voyeuristic excursion rather than a sound and sensitive form of sustainable tourism - then think again. Because long-distance overland companies in particular are essentially forced to ‘live off the land’ as far as supplies and provisions go, they can become vitally important to many rural communities and most established operators are major contributors (or often founders) of important community projects. The World Bank estimates that as little as 10% of tourist expenditure worldwide actually ends up in the country of destination, but a study by Greenwich University showed that the figure for overlanding operations was as high as 56%.
            For all these reasons - but mostly because it is more fun than you would ever have imagined - overlanding is here to stay!

Won’t it be just one massive whistlestop tour?
In some ways it will indeed. You will frequently find yourself wishing you could stay longer, but you are certain to see more places and fit in more experiences than you ever could under your own steam. Overlanding gives lie to Kipling’s tenet that ‘he travels the fastest that travels alone.’ Along with a few once-in-a-lifetime experiences you will also get an unforgettable ‘taster’ of the region you travel through. Serial overlanders might see it as the ideal way to see as much as possible in the shortest time but, with a less frantic attitude to travel (or perhaps just with more time for future trips), you might realise that this is simply the world’s most incredible ‘window-shopping trip.’ As your journey nears its final destinations you look back on all the wonderful places you’ve seen and promise yourself a return one day…to really BUY!

Seeing as it will be my home for the next few weeks, just how comfortable is this truck going to be?
Since each operator has his own ideas of what makes the ideal truck for Africa, Latin America or Europe there are almost as many truck designs as there are overland companies (about 100 at the moment). After reliability, comfort is invariably the highest priority however, so even budget overland trips are rarely any great hardship. All trucks are fitted with comfortable, spacious seating (although layout varies immensely) and big windows, plenty of storage space for daypacks and an onboard library and sound-system are usually standard. Well-designed trucks are easy to unload and, within half-hour of arriving at your campsite, a comfortable little tent village will be set up and you will be sat around a fire enjoying that first beer of the evening.

They’ve promised a truck-full of “like-minded fellow travellers.” I bet I can’t stand them.
Those ‘like-minded fellow travellers’ that the brochures promise come in all shapes, nationalities and temperaments, but collectively they represent the most important factor in a successful trip. There is no maximum age limit and average age is actually increasing as more thirty-something ‘career-gappers’ discover overlanding. Contrary to popular belief, a small group is not necessarily the best; if there are only six or eight people you will be together most of the time, but if you are unable to find at least several people you can relate to among a group of twenty-odd travellers…well, it might be time for some honest self-evaluation.
Dragoman Overland (www.dragoman.co.uk) offer an interesting possibility for people who would like more control over who they will travel with; why not get a group of friends or family together and charter the entire truck?

Do I really have to empty the septic tank and do other unsavoury chores?
Some tours carry a cook - often a local, who might frequently also be the most knowledgeable ‘guide’ on the trip - but otherwise teams of passengers cook on a rota system. Most operators expect passengers to lend a hand in day-to-day camp chores. This is, after all, part of camping and if there are a dozen tents to pitch few people would be comfortable standing by watching the crew sweat through the whole lot.
The septic tank is another question altogether and the crew are unlikely to have you ‘getting your hands dirty’ to that extent…neither will you be expected to do an oil change on the truck or slaughter chickens for the evening meal!

Will I ever get the chance for some ‘me-time’?
The prospect of following a snake of twenty people through some third-world market is just not a part of most overland trips. In cities or towns for example you will naturally split up to wander either in groups of three or four, or if you prefer alone. The only people who seem not to enjoy overlanding, strangely, are often experienced travellers (no doubt priding themselves on their open-mindedness) who look on this as a solo trip - without the complications, risks or expense - and consider their fellow travellers simply excess baggage. Nobody will ‘invade your space’ if you want to be alone and, during a long trip especially, everybody will expect some solitary down-time but overlanding is essentially a team-sport.
 
Can’t I just pinch the suggested itinerary and do it all myself?
Good idea, of course you can! Now all you need to do is put in the research that will be crucial unless you expect to take double or triple the amount of time ironing out the schedule while on the road. Then you need to find local accommodation for what might be a different location every night and local contacts and guides who can make sure that you see the best of what a region has to offer without wasting more days. Lastly you just need a self-drive vehicle (maybe 4x4) to get you to remote country where local transport is likely to be either erratic or non existent…and an experienced advisor who can fill you in on the advisability (or not) of camping alone in the Peruvian paramo or the Zimbabwean thornveld.

I can’t work out which trips are good value? What are these ‘local payments’ I keep reading about in brochures?
In addition to the tour price most operators have a ‘local payment’ that must be paid directly to the driver/coordinator in cash at the beginning of the trip. This is for a food kitty, some accommodation, park fees etc and any day-to-day running expenses. In this way overland companies claim to cut down on their overheads and keep the entire package price lower. A good way to compare the value of the different companies is to total up prices for the whole trip including local payment and ‘optional activities’ (which are not included in the fixed itinerary but very often might be once-in-a-lifetime chances that would be foolish to miss).

Do I have to do the whole 30-week caboodle, or can I join for shorter sections?
Overland operators are usually very flexible and, just as you can tie one trip onto the tail of another, it is often possible to do just part of a scheduled route. If possible try to join at the beginning of a tour, however, when everyone else is still finding their feet and fitting into the routine. Contact the operator to discuss the possibilities and you will almost always get to speak to someone who knows the area firsthand.

The End