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Iquitos is the largest inland city in the world that is not accessible by road. Not that we felt much like we were in the Amazon once we were in Iquitos. It was certainly a city, and yet it was also one that had almost no cars whatsoever in it. Such a fact would ordinarily have me dancing a little jig of delight, but unfortunately in Iquitos instead of cars they have mototaxis. Thousands and thousands of them, all racing around looking for passengers with their very loud motorcycle engines revving, and the city as a consequence feels rather like it has been taken over by a biker gang. The negatives of Iquitos were offset by having a great place to stay. Our friend Ciaran, the little Irish leprechaun you may remember us cycling with back in Mexico and Central America, had put us in touch with a friend of his, a Japanese girl named Lisa. She was presently living in Iquitos, studying to be a vet, and had a room in the apartment she shared with her Argentinian boyfriend, Ricardo, that she rented out through AirBnb, which was offered to us at a nicely discounted rate. Lisa and Ricardo were good company and the apartment was a good one, with air-con in our room and an oven in the kitchen finally vegetarian lasagne was on the menu once again! And there was even a rooftop gym that Dea and I went up to most nights to keep ourselves in shape during our long time off the bike and enjoy the cool night air while looking down over the city. On our first full day in Iquitos we realised that another friend of ours from our time cycling in Central America, Tyler, was also in town, and we arranged to meet up for dinner. We knew that Tyler had sold his bicycle in Cuenca, southern Ecuador, in order to continue his trip down to the Chilean capital, Santiago, by hitch-hiking from Santiago he plans to walk the rest of the way to Ushuaia along with his girlfriend. So she flew down to meet me here, and we went on a week-long ayahuasca retreat together. I can only commend her on her commitment to spend time with her family. We wondered if the relentless mountains of the Ecuadorian Andes had been the reason for Tyler changing his mode of transportation, as it had been for us, but he explained that it was actually because the roads were too dangerous. But it was the transportation he was taking south to Pucallpa that was of most interest to us. He told us he was leaving Iquitos at three in the morning on a rapido, a fast boat, that would have him in Pucallpa a day and a half later. We had been under the impression that there were no fast boats through this section, that we would have no choice but to take the slow boat, but Tyler had found a better way of doing it, and we were certainly very interested in that. The following day, the 26 th of September, was my 35 th birthday, and I celebrated getting older with a trip to Belem market with Lisa and Dea. At first I was a little disappointed by this birthday treat, for it seemed to be just like any other market. There were a lot of vegetables, and a lot of dead yellow chickens, and a lot of people, and a greater-than-normal need to hold tightly to your belongings. But the further we went, the more interesting it got, with enormous fish, and turtle eggs, and alligator heads. There were turtles, both dead and alive, and various drugs and potions, all of them medicinal of course. Well, I am getting older, I thought, maybe that could come in handy. But no, of course I could never do that, poor dolphins, and I decided I would stick to Viagra, thanks very much. If I ever need anything like that. Not yet. Tyler had given us instructions on where we could buy tickets for the rapido to Pucallpa The lady there told us that we could indeed travel to Pucallpa, but that the boat would be leaving from Nauta, a town kilometres south on an isolated Amazon road, and we would first travel there by bus. It was a good excuse for another vegetarian lasagne. Altogether the thirteen nights we spent in Iquitos were a great way for us to practice at living a more settled life in preparation for the end of our travels next year. One thing it did make us realise though, was that as well as having a nice place to live, we would need to have access to the outdoors, to green spaces where we could play and exercise. Iquitos is a pretty unpleasant place in that regard, with just a couple of parks that are usually too hot to sit in that are surrounded by roads and as a result feel like being in the middle of a go-kart track. So we were pretty happy when it was time for us to move on and get out into the countryside again, to go for a proper bike ride for the first time in three weeks. The flysheet was missing. Getting out of Iquitos was a more pressing issue, and for the first hour or so the roads were horribly busy with mototaxis. It was thoroughly unpleasant and I found myself hating the whole thing. Luckily a short while after clearing the city limits the road finally developed a shoulder, and the further we went the more the traffic thinned out. By the end of the first day the road was pretty quiet and I was enjoying cycling again. It was also a flat, paved road, which helped us ease into cycling, and by the end of the day Dea was feeling really happy because her wrist was giving her no trouble at all. But where would we sleep? There was plenty of rainforest along the road but also quite a few homes, and we chose one that had a few different roofed areas on the property to ask at. Dea did a superb job of asking, and we were shown over to a roofed area where we could set up our tent for the night. I ran around quickly and made a makeshift flysheet out of bin liners god, I love bin liners , plastic bags, and my lovely green waterproof trousers. And as you can see, I did a fine job. We than had a walk around town, during which the most notable thing we saw was undoubtedly a series of murals along one wall that depicted the coming of the white people to the rainforest in stark terms. Actually we had attracted surprisingly little attention during our river travels, presumably because of the increasing tourism in this area that meant we were far from the only foreigners in town. The following morning we were awake in plenty of time to get our bikes down to the river where we found our boat waiting for us. The boat ride went very well, for the first couple of hours. But then one of the three people in charge of the boat decided to put some music on, very, very loudly. Dea and I had taken seats right below one of the speakers, and as a consequence we got to enjoy it especially loudly, lucky us. When it finally relented it was replaced by a TV, which showed a fighting movie at a similar volume. I think we were all relieved when the end credits finally rolled, and we could go back to the loud music again. The boat did make occasional stops at little settlements to pick up and drop off passengers, but never for very long and we were never able to get off and stretch our legs. Perhaps the longest stop came in the middle of the afternoon, but it was not a planned one. The men in charge seemed a little flustered that the engine was no longer operating as we drifted over to the side of the river, and the bad smell coming from the back of the boat indicated that something had indeed gone wrong. But luckily for us this breakdown had occurred at a location where there were pink river dolphins, and so we happily watched on as they leapt up out of the river nearby. A beautiful and special sight, for sure. Somehow the men got the boat moving again and we continued on into the night. The music was finally turned off and us passengers all did our best to sleep, while those in charge continued to navigate the river by moonlight. Then suddenly I was yanked back to reality by the sound of the bottom of the boat beneath us scraping loudly on the ground, our rate of forward motion rapidly diminishing, and a chorus of startled noises from those around me as we did the boaty equivalent of an emergency stop. I quickly realised that we must have run aground as I adjusted from being asleep to being awake. The men in charge tried to free us with long wooden poles, but it was obviously not working, and after a while one of them got into the river. The water was clearly very shallow as he was easily able to walk around the boat. Others followed him into the water and they began to try to rock the boat from side to side to get it free. We were stuck. More and more of the male passengers began to jump into the river to help, and it quickly dawned on me that I was actually going to have to join them. It was really the only manly thing to do. So I pulled off my shoes and socks and leapt out of the window into the piranha infested waters. Waters which came halfway up my shins. The riverbed was sandy and mushy between my toes. Some fish nibbled at my ankles. I thought, and kicked at them furiously, hoping I still looked manly. What was I doing here, in this river in Peru, in the middle of the rainforest, in the middle of the night, a bright moon overhead, a beached boat in front of me? A surprisingly high percentage of the other men had their backs to the boat and were peeing into the river, in what I could only guess was a coordinated attempt to raise the water levels enough to free the boat. We all got alongside the boat and tried pushing it back and forth to wriggle it free. I assumed, after all my working out in Iquitos, that with my help we would have no trouble getting the boat moving again, but alas it really was very stuck. We were able to move the boat from side to side at the front, and at the back, but a middle section was completely beached. I walked around the stricken vessel and at a certain point the water was no more than ankle deep, the boat absolutely stuck fast. By now all of the men were in the water, save for one, who had reacted to the crisis by putting on a lifejacket and sitting nervously in his seat, an interesting course of action considering the one thing we certainly were not about to do was sink. It was turning into quite the team-building exercise, as we tried different things to get the boat free. Eventually it was decided that we should all push on one side at the front of the boat, which caused it to go around in a degree turn, and this must have helped to dislodge some of the sand beneath the beached part. A little after that we all heaved at the sides, trying to move the boat forwards, and it finally broke free, some two hours of effort rewarded. As the boat moved forward I found the level of the water increasing rather rapidly, and jumped aboard. With everyone hopefully back on the boat, the engines were started, and our journey could continue. Now there was a real jovial atmosphere on board, and we were all thanked for our efforts with a cup of Inca cola a sugary yellow Peruvian alternative to coca-cola, as fine a testament to one of histories great civilizations as you can imagine. A couple of hours later, with everyone having drifted off to sleep again, the boat ran aground again. Nobody got up this time. Morning came around, and the loud music soon started up again. It was sure to be a long day. We made our own entertainment, reading, writing, playing solitaire. Perhaps the most exciting thing to occur during this second day was when I spotted a large spider hiding in one of the life jackets that were wedged under poles on the roof of the boat. I lost track of the spider and fell into an exhausted sleep. I awoke as the boat pulled up in Pucallpa. It was a. To my relief we were landing at an unpopulated bank, which felt much safer than Iquitos had. All of the other passengers were long gone by the time our bikes were unloaded, having apparently survived the journey unscathed. We packed up our things and cycled sleepily into town to try and find a place to lay our heads. The streets were really empty, it was amazingly quiet, and actually somehow the very best time to arrive. Miraculously we stumbled upon a hotel with a hour reception and moved in. We had made it! Our boat detour was complete, from here we would be back on our bikes. But not yet. First, we needed sleep. Nice read. AND Inca Cola. I do love a drop of that. Like Like. Skip to content Different Parts of Everywhere Around the world by bicycle and boats. PERU, 24 th September — 11 th October Iquitos is the largest inland city in the world that is not accessible by road. Share this: Twitter Facebook. 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