After a surprisingly quiet border crossing, we left Peru and rolled into Ecuador on our bicycles. From there we pedaled back into the Andes mountains. Hugging the walls of deep valleys high above rushing rivers, we dodged the rubble of dozens of landslides where unstable slopes had slumped into the roadway. Every few miles brought a new climate zone, from steamy, banana lowlands, to cocoa plantations that serve the world’s fines chocolatiers. Finally we reached the Ecuadorian highlands, just in time to celebrate Holy Week along Cuenca’s cobblestone streets.

As we cycled through Northern Peru, the world changed around us. Sand and rock shifted to scrubby hummocks, then to vast, sugarcane and rice fields fed by mega-irrigation projects. Wet season rains turned the surrounding hills a bright green, filled with birdsong and an abundance of wildlife. With each passing mile, industrial-scale farms gave way to small farms, then pastures dotted with oil wells. Eventually, a succession of sleepy beach towns haunted by the ghost of Hemingway brought us to Tumbes, on the doorstep of the border with Ecuador.