The long overnight bus to Cuzco went smoothly and when I arrived I was immediately greeted with clouds and rain.
Immediately as I began to near the city centre in the taxi I knew this was a different city than any of the others I had been in. There was a certain atmosphere that surrounds this area. Built in a valley of mountains, sitting at around 3,300 metres above sea level, the houses and buildings creep up the mountain sides from expansion. The city is claimed to be shaped as a Puma and was designed that way by the Incan people who chose this city and area to be their capital approximately 500 - 600 years ago. The legend has it that the first Inca King and Queen emerged from the sacred Lago Titicaca and searched the lands for the best earth to begin their civilization. Cuzco was this place.
Their decision was well-founded. To date it is the most naturally rich area that I have visited. Trees cover the surrounding hills and mountains as well as many rivers. One of these rivers being the Great and Sacred Urubamba river which flows down the length of the Sacred Valley a few dozen kilometres away. They say the Urubamba was for the Incans as was the Nile for the Egyptians.
Being even higher in the mountains most recommend that one does very little for the first 2 days of his or her travels to Cuzco to acclimatize. I, on the other hand, ran around the city with Xavi, my Spanish friend, correction, Catalan friend (they get quite offended being mistaken for the other). We were trying to figure out the best way to do everything and manage our time and money. We achieved this by walking around all the agencies and finding the best prices on things, in the end it saved us a lot of money!
The first activity we did 2 days later was a mountain biking trek through the country side to arrive at Moray arquiological? site. Moray meaning circle in the old Quechua language (Incan Official Language, still spoken in many parts of Peru and Bolivia). Here at Moray are circular terraces carved into the walls of a valley like large steps. It is said to have been used for plant experamentation. Each level that you go down, the temperature is said to drop by a few degrees, likely the amount of water exposure changes as well. Look for pictures online if you want a visual. After this we proceeded to do some relatively hard-core biking through the mountains. Biking down steep, rocky roads with shitty breaks and cliffs descending ominously to my left. It was exciting/scarry at time. Good fun while leaving me quite exhausted by the end!
The drive back to Cuzco was in a Combi (A tiny local bus). These buses are cheap and crammed to the brim with people. If there is any space what so ever, more will come on. I had an old lady that was too old and weak to stand and within seconds she was pretty much nestling into my lap. It is over an hour drive back to Cuzco, I was hoping she would get off before then... 10 minutes in I had remembered I had some cake in my pocket, I quickly gave up on that, oh well, tasted like crap anyway. Looking at this woman sitting on my lap and can not help but wonder how old she is. There is not a spot on her face that escapes the wrinkles. Her mouth is an empty expanse that closes in on itself, likely from the lose of so many teeth. She wears tradition, colourful peruvian dress, with an off-white sort of top hat that is too small so it sits on the top of her head. The head is hard, and looks like its made of plaster, its painted. The paint is old and beginning to crack and break resembling the wrinkles on her face. I cant help but remember what Rob, one of my friends, said while walking around the streets of Arequipa, ¨I never want to get old¨. All these things aside, this womans hair is all black, retaining all colour. The streets of Peru are filled with women that look exactly like this one directly on top of me. My leg is beginning to go numb now. These women usually carry around everything inside large colourful bags that they tie around their neck and are always bent half over carrying the load, giving them a nice hump-back, likely after several years of living this way and working in the field. These women continue to work and are often the bosses of the communities and the towns. It is normal for them to live to ages of 85 and 90 years of age and remaining extremely strong in some cases. I was told this was because of what they eat, the high proteins and nutrients that fill the aweful tasting food that they eat daily, as well as the sacred coca leaf, which takes away feelings of hunger, fatigue and sickness.
The next day I drove in a bus back to the Valle Sagraodo to have a more extensive experience there. I found it to be an extremely peaceful area, rich red soil along with the sacred, brown waters of the Urubamba are the reason for many small towns to be built up around the area. As well as Inca cities before them. The walls of the valley are steep and green, the temperature is warm, although rain and thunderstorms are common daily occurances, for at least a few minutes. Here in the Sacred Valley we took a bus to the various Inca ruins within. Many areas of the valley walls are covered in terraces similar to those at more Moray although are much larger and continue for many levels, around 700 they said... The amazing thing about the best inca ruins are that they are all up on hills, on crests where the view below can be easily seen. This was mainly for defense and to protect against flooding from the river. The best Inca ruins in the valley, at Ollantaytambo are made of many large stones of almost 60 - 90 tonnes. All of which were dragged over mountains for miles from the quarry to this specific important spot to build a temple. These stones would be pulled by 900 to 1000 people and take almost 4 months before 1 stone would arrive at its destination. Insanse......... These enormous stones would then be shaped to fit perfectly together almost as a puzzle. An impressive sight.
By the end of the day I understood why this valley was considererd sacred. I could spend much longer than 1 day there.
Friday, November 25, 2011
Tuesday, November 22, 2011
Arequipa and the Colca Canyon (November 17th to 20th)
Immediately upon arrival to Arequipas main Plaza de Armas, Karl and I knew that things were looking up.
Arequipa is famed to be the best colonially conserved town in Peru and that was immediately evident. The churches and buildings were all built of nice textured stone. The plazas were green and the fountains flowed. The temperature was perfect, very sunny with a breeze. Arequipa is slightly in the mountains with an altitude of about 2,300 metres above sea level which felt nice coming from the dreadful desert for the past week. Mountains and volcanos surround the city as well el Rio Chili, unlike the dried up river basins in nazca which are actually used as roads... this river had a nice flow of water. All these aspects provid good activities to keep busy with in Arequipa, from mountain climbing, trekking, biking and even rapids for rafting. All these aside the main attraction of the city is the Colca Canyon which most people come to for 2 or 3 days only to hike the canyon or at least to see it, then to go on to the next stop. Arequipa was the biggest tourist spot I had been to at that point, so I never really felt out of place or unsafe.
I really enjoyed Arequipa although I felt unsatisfied with what I had completed there. Treks left daily for the 6 hour drive into the mountains. Up winding roads snaking through the mountains and stone walls, and down bumpy, unpaved roads that would kill any vehicles shocks after a few goes. There were options of trekking down into the canyon for 2 or 3 days, all included for very resonable prices of about 60 dollars although because of my prior arrangements I was strapped onto a sightseeing escapade for 2 days in a bus. While not being what I wanted to experience, it was still and inpressive and memorable trip. The Colca Canyon and the Catohuasi Canyon a few hours further away are the two deepest canyons in the world stretching down top to bottom by about 3,400 metres! The roads leading to this point are treacherous to say the least. Narrow roads hardly wide enough for two vehicles to pass with sheer cliff dropping of to the right, with nothing inbetween but a skimpy gaurdrail. All along the plateaus of the Canyon are small towns full of traditionally dressed women and dancing children. Pet eagles and llamas that for a small price you can get a picture with. The sheer depth and pitch of the canyon walls is impressive. When we arrived to the look-out call Cruz del Condor, named so for its popularity in seeing condors circling the skies above. Condors being enormous birds spansing 3 metres or more in wingspan when fully grown. Initially it was very cloudy down in the canyon, which is an interesting feeling, being above clouds. These misty forms began to build and rise from below to enocompass all of the onlookers numbering around 2 to 3 hundred people at that point in cloud. Unable to see anything, let alone any condors, people began to allow dissappointment to rule over, taking it as bad luck and that they would have to come back again in the next dozen years... Although the clouds did not stop there, and rose high into the sky leaving the canyon practically clear. This is when the condors came out. Soaring around in huge circles these birds (3 of them) stayed for a few minutes, just long enough everyone to get their fill with fotos and wonder. After this we began the boring drive all the way back to Arequipa.
I was considering staying longer in Arequipa and doing some more activity by climbing the cities Volcano el Misti, although I decided against it because of knew I would be able to do something similar but for less in Bolivia. That is something that does not lack in South America, there are mountain and volcanos to climb everywhere, I had to tell myself to be patient. I also wanted to slowly climb up the mountains to higher points giving myself time to Acclimatize. I knew my next 3 stops would all get gradually higher, finishing in La Paz, the highest Capital city in the World, that being the capital of Bolivia. It sits at about 4,200 metres about sea level.
I got to Arequipa one day early and decided to leave 2 days early giving myself more time in Cuzco, where there would be enough to keep my busy and satisfied for weeks.
Arequipa was a very positive stop. There I met many people in a small fantastic hostel that was a recommendation given to Karl. We had a small gang for a few days which was nice and several of that gang have accompanied me to Cuzco, where I am now. I left Karl although agreed to meet him somewhere in Bolivia. All the people I stayed with in Arequipa and for most of my trip so far have been much older than me and I have soaked the information and advice up. It is amazing the relationships that can develop over such a small period of time, between 48 and 72 hours. I have found that the people that I am surrounded by have had a great effect upon me in general, make me a stronger person in whole. The same can be said for the people who surround me at home. I owe a lot of who I am and what I have for the great people which I call my friends and family.
Thank you
Arequipa is famed to be the best colonially conserved town in Peru and that was immediately evident. The churches and buildings were all built of nice textured stone. The plazas were green and the fountains flowed. The temperature was perfect, very sunny with a breeze. Arequipa is slightly in the mountains with an altitude of about 2,300 metres above sea level which felt nice coming from the dreadful desert for the past week. Mountains and volcanos surround the city as well el Rio Chili, unlike the dried up river basins in nazca which are actually used as roads... this river had a nice flow of water. All these aspects provid good activities to keep busy with in Arequipa, from mountain climbing, trekking, biking and even rapids for rafting. All these aside the main attraction of the city is the Colca Canyon which most people come to for 2 or 3 days only to hike the canyon or at least to see it, then to go on to the next stop. Arequipa was the biggest tourist spot I had been to at that point, so I never really felt out of place or unsafe.
I really enjoyed Arequipa although I felt unsatisfied with what I had completed there. Treks left daily for the 6 hour drive into the mountains. Up winding roads snaking through the mountains and stone walls, and down bumpy, unpaved roads that would kill any vehicles shocks after a few goes. There were options of trekking down into the canyon for 2 or 3 days, all included for very resonable prices of about 60 dollars although because of my prior arrangements I was strapped onto a sightseeing escapade for 2 days in a bus. While not being what I wanted to experience, it was still and inpressive and memorable trip. The Colca Canyon and the Catohuasi Canyon a few hours further away are the two deepest canyons in the world stretching down top to bottom by about 3,400 metres! The roads leading to this point are treacherous to say the least. Narrow roads hardly wide enough for two vehicles to pass with sheer cliff dropping of to the right, with nothing inbetween but a skimpy gaurdrail. All along the plateaus of the Canyon are small towns full of traditionally dressed women and dancing children. Pet eagles and llamas that for a small price you can get a picture with. The sheer depth and pitch of the canyon walls is impressive. When we arrived to the look-out call Cruz del Condor, named so for its popularity in seeing condors circling the skies above. Condors being enormous birds spansing 3 metres or more in wingspan when fully grown. Initially it was very cloudy down in the canyon, which is an interesting feeling, being above clouds. These misty forms began to build and rise from below to enocompass all of the onlookers numbering around 2 to 3 hundred people at that point in cloud. Unable to see anything, let alone any condors, people began to allow dissappointment to rule over, taking it as bad luck and that they would have to come back again in the next dozen years... Although the clouds did not stop there, and rose high into the sky leaving the canyon practically clear. This is when the condors came out. Soaring around in huge circles these birds (3 of them) stayed for a few minutes, just long enough everyone to get their fill with fotos and wonder. After this we began the boring drive all the way back to Arequipa.
I was considering staying longer in Arequipa and doing some more activity by climbing the cities Volcano el Misti, although I decided against it because of knew I would be able to do something similar but for less in Bolivia. That is something that does not lack in South America, there are mountain and volcanos to climb everywhere, I had to tell myself to be patient. I also wanted to slowly climb up the mountains to higher points giving myself time to Acclimatize. I knew my next 3 stops would all get gradually higher, finishing in La Paz, the highest Capital city in the World, that being the capital of Bolivia. It sits at about 4,200 metres about sea level.
I got to Arequipa one day early and decided to leave 2 days early giving myself more time in Cuzco, where there would be enough to keep my busy and satisfied for weeks.
Arequipa was a very positive stop. There I met many people in a small fantastic hostel that was a recommendation given to Karl. We had a small gang for a few days which was nice and several of that gang have accompanied me to Cuzco, where I am now. I left Karl although agreed to meet him somewhere in Bolivia. All the people I stayed with in Arequipa and for most of my trip so far have been much older than me and I have soaked the information and advice up. It is amazing the relationships that can develop over such a small period of time, between 48 and 72 hours. I have found that the people that I am surrounded by have had a great effect upon me in general, make me a stronger person in whole. The same can be said for the people who surround me at home. I owe a lot of who I am and what I have for the great people which I call my friends and family.
Thank you
Nazca
The city of Nazca. One of the driest areas in the world. It will rain once or twice every few years, if they are lucky. There is no water, ever. All the rivers are dried up, all the homes have daily deposits of water for about 1 hour. Unlikely that hot water exists here, although considering the immense heat blasted upon the town each and every day, I doubt they would ever need warm water.
All this being said, one wonders why this community continues to exist and has existed in this area for thousands of years, being one of the oldest cultures throughout Southamerican History. Nazca an insane ammount of money solely from the mining industry, one of the best and most expansive in the entire country. Dozens of different types of minerals are exported from this area alone to all parts of the world, one major one being Canada, for Gold.
I was planning on staying for 3 days in Nazca total considering my great expectations for the community to provide me with some cool tours and neat information. There are several things to do in Nazca (Tourism being the second largest money producer, next to mining), although there is nothing about the city that inspires people to stay for longer periods of time and ¨do it all¨ per se. The main attraction here is the Nazca Lines, which one can pay a rediculous amount for a 35 minute flight in a tiny aircraft over the desert to see the various figures. Or alternatively, tourists and pay practically nothing and take a bus to a lookout point where they can see 2 or 3 out of the 15 figures or so. I was hoping to go to Nazca and find a cheaper price directly from the city, the normal price being around 100 dollars. When I got there and found out that cheaper prices did not exist I gave up on the idea and wanted to do alternative tours around the city. Although after meeting a German guy that first night things began to change.
Right from the beginning of my arrival to Nazca I had difficulty getting around and often found myself wandering around in circles. After finally finding my hostel which, had changed names and owners I find suspicious whether the great testimonials and commentaries of this place would stay the same. The director was a young bitch of a woman that constantly put off an aura of impatience which is quite annoying as a customer in a hostel. She would prove later to be even more of a stubborn fool the next morning. The night before the German (Karl is his name) and I agreed to wake up early and go directly to the airport and see if we could find cheaper options for flights from the companies who flew them. Upon waking up at 6 in the morning he told me immediately that he had not slept at all because there were bed bugs all over his bed. He showed the bed bugs to someone down in the hostel and they gave him a different room ¨bug free¨. Although he didnt sleep in that room either because of the paranoia that more would arrive and take to his back-pack making the next several weeks of his travels an agonizing experience, to say in the most polite terms.
We agreed to deal with it late and went to the airport, where we found prices to be practically the same, We found one flight, saved 5- 20 dollars depending on where you got the tickets and took the flight. I think this was my first experience in a small plane with a capacity of about 10 people, crammed in. The engine, which was right by my sides, roared so loud it felt is if I was inside it. The bumpy ride was what Karl had wanted. A bit of a rollercoaster rollercoaster through the air that gets you a bit sick hopefully is how he put it. I didnt understand why someone could think feeling a bit sick was fun but I went along with it. The lines themselves were very ¨alright¨ nothing spectacular that left you with a feeling like it was worth 90 dollars.
We left feeling slightly unsatisfied.
Karl likely used this dissatisfaction along with his fatigue from lack of sleep to create a wicked German rage rain down upon this arrogant bitch as soon as we returned to the hostel. The funny thing was that she wanted him to pay 2/3 of the price for his use of the second bedroom the night before. From upstairs I could here him yelling in his harsh angry spanglish with german accent which provided a bit of entertainment for me.
¨Bat Bags! Bat Bags! Bat Bags!¨ Was what I kept hearing from below. I went down to provide him with some translating assistance although he mainly just used google translator, turn the screen towards her and poke the screen with a grunts and say MAL MAL. This woman didnt care one bit, she wanted her money, even after we threatened to put awful comments about the hostel all over the internet she was not phased one bit. It wasnt until another Irish guy came into the room to use the computer did she completely change face immediately and gave in. In exchange for her cooperation we told the next group of backpackers to down the road before they signed up. That got her panties in a bundle :)
I left Nazca a day early and I am glad, the heat was beginning to get the better of me. Constant headaches and fevers was not worth staying any longer. The town was shit anyway.
Karl and I took the night bus to Arequipa hoping for something better out of the next leg.
All this being said, one wonders why this community continues to exist and has existed in this area for thousands of years, being one of the oldest cultures throughout Southamerican History. Nazca an insane ammount of money solely from the mining industry, one of the best and most expansive in the entire country. Dozens of different types of minerals are exported from this area alone to all parts of the world, one major one being Canada, for Gold.
I was planning on staying for 3 days in Nazca total considering my great expectations for the community to provide me with some cool tours and neat information. There are several things to do in Nazca (Tourism being the second largest money producer, next to mining), although there is nothing about the city that inspires people to stay for longer periods of time and ¨do it all¨ per se. The main attraction here is the Nazca Lines, which one can pay a rediculous amount for a 35 minute flight in a tiny aircraft over the desert to see the various figures. Or alternatively, tourists and pay practically nothing and take a bus to a lookout point where they can see 2 or 3 out of the 15 figures or so. I was hoping to go to Nazca and find a cheaper price directly from the city, the normal price being around 100 dollars. When I got there and found out that cheaper prices did not exist I gave up on the idea and wanted to do alternative tours around the city. Although after meeting a German guy that first night things began to change.
Right from the beginning of my arrival to Nazca I had difficulty getting around and often found myself wandering around in circles. After finally finding my hostel which, had changed names and owners I find suspicious whether the great testimonials and commentaries of this place would stay the same. The director was a young bitch of a woman that constantly put off an aura of impatience which is quite annoying as a customer in a hostel. She would prove later to be even more of a stubborn fool the next morning. The night before the German (Karl is his name) and I agreed to wake up early and go directly to the airport and see if we could find cheaper options for flights from the companies who flew them. Upon waking up at 6 in the morning he told me immediately that he had not slept at all because there were bed bugs all over his bed. He showed the bed bugs to someone down in the hostel and they gave him a different room ¨bug free¨. Although he didnt sleep in that room either because of the paranoia that more would arrive and take to his back-pack making the next several weeks of his travels an agonizing experience, to say in the most polite terms.
We agreed to deal with it late and went to the airport, where we found prices to be practically the same, We found one flight, saved 5- 20 dollars depending on where you got the tickets and took the flight. I think this was my first experience in a small plane with a capacity of about 10 people, crammed in. The engine, which was right by my sides, roared so loud it felt is if I was inside it. The bumpy ride was what Karl had wanted. A bit of a rollercoaster rollercoaster through the air that gets you a bit sick hopefully is how he put it. I didnt understand why someone could think feeling a bit sick was fun but I went along with it. The lines themselves were very ¨alright¨ nothing spectacular that left you with a feeling like it was worth 90 dollars.
We left feeling slightly unsatisfied.
Karl likely used this dissatisfaction along with his fatigue from lack of sleep to create a wicked German rage rain down upon this arrogant bitch as soon as we returned to the hostel. The funny thing was that she wanted him to pay 2/3 of the price for his use of the second bedroom the night before. From upstairs I could here him yelling in his harsh angry spanglish with german accent which provided a bit of entertainment for me.
¨Bat Bags! Bat Bags! Bat Bags!¨ Was what I kept hearing from below. I went down to provide him with some translating assistance although he mainly just used google translator, turn the screen towards her and poke the screen with a grunts and say MAL MAL. This woman didnt care one bit, she wanted her money, even after we threatened to put awful comments about the hostel all over the internet she was not phased one bit. It wasnt until another Irish guy came into the room to use the computer did she completely change face immediately and gave in. In exchange for her cooperation we told the next group of backpackers to down the road before they signed up. That got her panties in a bundle :)
I left Nazca a day early and I am glad, the heat was beginning to get the better of me. Constant headaches and fevers was not worth staying any longer. The town was shit anyway.
Karl and I took the night bus to Arequipa hoping for something better out of the next leg.
Monday, November 21, 2011
Ica and Huacachina
All the advice that I recieved about Ica was to not bother going there, but to go directly to Huacachina, a small paradise oasis a short drive outside of the city. Ica had nothing worth visiting, too many cars, people, and the heat was outstanding. I took the advice and took a cab directly to Huacachina.
Immediately upon arrival I understood why this dessert oasis was so popular among gringos. A small natural pond sat in the bottom of a valley, surrounded on all sides with hostels, restaurants and bars. Huge sand dunes rise high into the sky on all sides. This was the perfect spot to relax completely for 2 or 3 days. I was quite suprised to see that the majority of the people walking around and swimming in the pond were Peruvians, I thought this was a gringo spot...Well all the gringos were hiding in there hostels where there were nice pools and bars. Only the Peruvians dared to enter the murky, brown waters of the pond. All the photos made the pond to look like a tuquoise jewel, happily surrounded by sand. In my 3 days there, I didn't see one foreigner in the water.
The atmosphere was filled with noises of sand buggys roaring off into the dessert carrying 4 to 15 people. The loud, uncovered motors could be heard and smelt from miles away. I spent the first day relaxing in the sun and hiking the sands to get a better view of the great beyond, always to find more rolling sands continue on and on. Unlike the hard, almost sand-stoney dessert of Paracas, the dessert of Ica was soft sand. Hiking it was deathly tiring, every step I would take the sands would just slide away under your weight.
Travellers visit this oasis to take rides into the dessert and go cascading down dunes face-first on wooden planks. They say this is the best place for professional sand-boarding, although being an avid snowboarder, I didn't see much difference, or immense skill. I never did get a chance to rent an actual snowboard with boots and test my luck, that was probably the largest regret. Anyway, that first evening I was casually walking around and this rasta looking guy was coming in the opposite direction and telling me to come see the sandboarding competition which flocks of people were beginning to climb the nearby dune to watch. I agreed, so we went together to watch the races and tricks. I was quite impressed by the organization that they had, flags, point systems, everything that a similar snowboard race would have at home. The fastest one to the bottom wins ultimately, although the riders hardly had to turn, the ones that did always lost. None of them could ride, a lot of it was quite ammusing. I wanted to try it myself and see if there was a great difference between sand and snow. The sand was super fine, almost molecular, and heavy. Once the sun started to go down, it got dark in the oasis before the dunes so all the people in the town began to crawl out of their holes up the sand walls to get the last few minutes of the sunset. Like ants the people struggled up the sand in hordes! Me and my new Peruvian friends sat in the sand with beers sitting in the hot sand waiting for them to warm up... I couldn't help but see the difference once again between sand and snow.
The second day was spent with more relaxing which ended up with sunburns down the entire front of my body, which would I would be reminded later of. That evening I took my own buggy ride out into the void to be covered in sand head to toe. Resistance was futile... The adrenline rush was exciting as the buggy climbed sand dunes and spun around 180 degrees to fly down again. Between these tours we would be dropped off at the tops of 500 metre sand dunes and lay down on these sand boards, this is where I felt the burns! Flying down the dunes for hundreds of metres and rapid speed was exciting, although a real snowboard would have been much more interesting.
The trip ended with watching the sunset in the dessert. The temperature difference between day and night or dusk and dawn was immense, as soon as the sun dropped, everything cooled down immediately. It was a peaceful sight, with the wind on my face and the sand in my ears and eyes. It was close to paradise.
I left the next morning to Nazca, for more heat and dread. The road there was windy and treacherous. The large double decker bus felt clumsy as it somehow turned around narrow corners weaving through the desert mountains. I was looking forward to Nazca, the inexplicable Nazca lines sat there, carved forever into the dessert floor forming shapes of animals and other beings. It was going to be fun, or so I thought.
Immediately upon arrival I understood why this dessert oasis was so popular among gringos. A small natural pond sat in the bottom of a valley, surrounded on all sides with hostels, restaurants and bars. Huge sand dunes rise high into the sky on all sides. This was the perfect spot to relax completely for 2 or 3 days. I was quite suprised to see that the majority of the people walking around and swimming in the pond were Peruvians, I thought this was a gringo spot...Well all the gringos were hiding in there hostels where there were nice pools and bars. Only the Peruvians dared to enter the murky, brown waters of the pond. All the photos made the pond to look like a tuquoise jewel, happily surrounded by sand. In my 3 days there, I didn't see one foreigner in the water.
The atmosphere was filled with noises of sand buggys roaring off into the dessert carrying 4 to 15 people. The loud, uncovered motors could be heard and smelt from miles away. I spent the first day relaxing in the sun and hiking the sands to get a better view of the great beyond, always to find more rolling sands continue on and on. Unlike the hard, almost sand-stoney dessert of Paracas, the dessert of Ica was soft sand. Hiking it was deathly tiring, every step I would take the sands would just slide away under your weight.
Travellers visit this oasis to take rides into the dessert and go cascading down dunes face-first on wooden planks. They say this is the best place for professional sand-boarding, although being an avid snowboarder, I didn't see much difference, or immense skill. I never did get a chance to rent an actual snowboard with boots and test my luck, that was probably the largest regret. Anyway, that first evening I was casually walking around and this rasta looking guy was coming in the opposite direction and telling me to come see the sandboarding competition which flocks of people were beginning to climb the nearby dune to watch. I agreed, so we went together to watch the races and tricks. I was quite impressed by the organization that they had, flags, point systems, everything that a similar snowboard race would have at home. The fastest one to the bottom wins ultimately, although the riders hardly had to turn, the ones that did always lost. None of them could ride, a lot of it was quite ammusing. I wanted to try it myself and see if there was a great difference between sand and snow. The sand was super fine, almost molecular, and heavy. Once the sun started to go down, it got dark in the oasis before the dunes so all the people in the town began to crawl out of their holes up the sand walls to get the last few minutes of the sunset. Like ants the people struggled up the sand in hordes! Me and my new Peruvian friends sat in the sand with beers sitting in the hot sand waiting for them to warm up... I couldn't help but see the difference once again between sand and snow.
The second day was spent with more relaxing which ended up with sunburns down the entire front of my body, which would I would be reminded later of. That evening I took my own buggy ride out into the void to be covered in sand head to toe. Resistance was futile... The adrenline rush was exciting as the buggy climbed sand dunes and spun around 180 degrees to fly down again. Between these tours we would be dropped off at the tops of 500 metre sand dunes and lay down on these sand boards, this is where I felt the burns! Flying down the dunes for hundreds of metres and rapid speed was exciting, although a real snowboard would have been much more interesting.
The trip ended with watching the sunset in the dessert. The temperature difference between day and night or dusk and dawn was immense, as soon as the sun dropped, everything cooled down immediately. It was a peaceful sight, with the wind on my face and the sand in my ears and eyes. It was close to paradise.
I left the next morning to Nazca, for more heat and dread. The road there was windy and treacherous. The large double decker bus felt clumsy as it somehow turned around narrow corners weaving through the desert mountains. I was looking forward to Nazca, the inexplicable Nazca lines sat there, carved forever into the dessert floor forming shapes of animals and other beings. It was going to be fun, or so I thought.
Wednesday, November 16, 2011
Paracas National Reserve
Arriving in Paracas was a refreshing experience.
Sitting in a bay on the Pacific ocean, Paracas is a small village with very little, although has a few tourist attractions such as the Ballestas Islands and the National Reserve (not be mistaken with National Park, this is a serious dessert of about 335,000 hectares). Tourists usually stop here for 1 night alone. Upon arrival at the bus station I immediately decided I did not want to arrive in larger places late in the evening and have since changed my bus tickets to the morning and has been working well since.
I immediately made friends with one of the employees at the bus station who was glad to see me whenever we ran into each other for the rest of my time in Paracas. Amazing how friends can be made from practically nothing but simply from friendliness and being open-minded as a tourist and not turning every local down because of fear or suspicion.
At the gates of the bus station there was a man calling me, standing on the threshold of the property, ¨my friend! my friend! how are you my friend!?¨ I was unsure, although this man proved to be the competition and full of cheaper prices. He directed me to a different hostel than where I was planning for a cheap 15 soles per night, which is around 6 dollares. I was unsure upon entry through a wooden fence although as soon as I saw three bodies sitting around a shitty plastic table drinking and smoking I knew it was going to be a good time. There turned out to be three girls, two from Norway, one from Holland who had all just begun their travels and one guy from Sweden who had been travelling for the last 14 months! He was an interesting character, he had long hair tied back in bun with a lazy eye which I had to focus on not focusing on if you know what I mean. They were a fun group although we did not last nearly long enough, We all split up the next day after a long night of learning the salsa in an empty bar with enthusiastic men. Seeing a fat man dance the salsa is quite an interesting sight.
The next day I was up early to take the boat ride into the ocean to see the Ballestas Islands where thousands of birds flock, why? I am not completely sure? The only reason I saw was to couple up with other birds and shit on the rocks... The ¨guano¨that is produced there is one of the major exports for Peru, for what? Again, I don´t know exactly. The smell was overwhelming...
Never have I see so many birds in one place, just sitting, doing nothing. Also there were penguins and sea lions, also doing nothing. It was more interesting seeing the people working and collecting the guano to ship it off, poor souls.
After that I rushed off to go to the national reserve, a 4 hour tour into the desert to see the landscape and fossils. Many beautiful beaches and cliffs dropping away into the waves below. The desert was harder base, less comprised of sand. This is from millions of years of solidifying then breaking again from earthquakes (which are the most common natural disaster around this area). Paracas is located directly next to a fault line, so they experience some of the worst earthquakes in the world, the nearby city of Pisco was left in pieces after the last earthquake last year. When driving through this was very evident. People working to rebuild structures that may have broken several times over and may yet break down again next year, just after they finish building it. Pisco was a sad looking town.
The Paracas area is one of the best to experience fresh sea-food straight from the ocean. It was fantastic!
When coming back to the hostel, I was not looking forward to being alone after the great times made the evening before. I arrived and there was a boring german man travelling Peru, and I assumed it would be better than nothing. An hour latter, while still down about the evening and the lack of social interaction, a short columbian woman came in strutting in and we connected immediately. Another good night came along with more salsa lessons in a different bar, and cool connections made with both gringos and locals.
All in all, Paracas was an awesome stop
Sitting in a bay on the Pacific ocean, Paracas is a small village with very little, although has a few tourist attractions such as the Ballestas Islands and the National Reserve (not be mistaken with National Park, this is a serious dessert of about 335,000 hectares). Tourists usually stop here for 1 night alone. Upon arrival at the bus station I immediately decided I did not want to arrive in larger places late in the evening and have since changed my bus tickets to the morning and has been working well since.
I immediately made friends with one of the employees at the bus station who was glad to see me whenever we ran into each other for the rest of my time in Paracas. Amazing how friends can be made from practically nothing but simply from friendliness and being open-minded as a tourist and not turning every local down because of fear or suspicion.
At the gates of the bus station there was a man calling me, standing on the threshold of the property, ¨my friend! my friend! how are you my friend!?¨ I was unsure, although this man proved to be the competition and full of cheaper prices. He directed me to a different hostel than where I was planning for a cheap 15 soles per night, which is around 6 dollares. I was unsure upon entry through a wooden fence although as soon as I saw three bodies sitting around a shitty plastic table drinking and smoking I knew it was going to be a good time. There turned out to be three girls, two from Norway, one from Holland who had all just begun their travels and one guy from Sweden who had been travelling for the last 14 months! He was an interesting character, he had long hair tied back in bun with a lazy eye which I had to focus on not focusing on if you know what I mean. They were a fun group although we did not last nearly long enough, We all split up the next day after a long night of learning the salsa in an empty bar with enthusiastic men. Seeing a fat man dance the salsa is quite an interesting sight.
The next day I was up early to take the boat ride into the ocean to see the Ballestas Islands where thousands of birds flock, why? I am not completely sure? The only reason I saw was to couple up with other birds and shit on the rocks... The ¨guano¨that is produced there is one of the major exports for Peru, for what? Again, I don´t know exactly. The smell was overwhelming...
Never have I see so many birds in one place, just sitting, doing nothing. Also there were penguins and sea lions, also doing nothing. It was more interesting seeing the people working and collecting the guano to ship it off, poor souls.
After that I rushed off to go to the national reserve, a 4 hour tour into the desert to see the landscape and fossils. Many beautiful beaches and cliffs dropping away into the waves below. The desert was harder base, less comprised of sand. This is from millions of years of solidifying then breaking again from earthquakes (which are the most common natural disaster around this area). Paracas is located directly next to a fault line, so they experience some of the worst earthquakes in the world, the nearby city of Pisco was left in pieces after the last earthquake last year. When driving through this was very evident. People working to rebuild structures that may have broken several times over and may yet break down again next year, just after they finish building it. Pisco was a sad looking town.
The Paracas area is one of the best to experience fresh sea-food straight from the ocean. It was fantastic!
When coming back to the hostel, I was not looking forward to being alone after the great times made the evening before. I arrived and there was a boring german man travelling Peru, and I assumed it would be better than nothing. An hour latter, while still down about the evening and the lack of social interaction, a short columbian woman came in strutting in and we connected immediately. Another good night came along with more salsa lessons in a different bar, and cool connections made with both gringos and locals.
All in all, Paracas was an awesome stop
Lima
Lima, The Peruvian capital, a bussling hot spot for many travellers just beginning their travels, most of which take the so-called ¨gringo trail¨ south down the coast north to Cuzco then into Bolivia through Puno and Lake Titicaca.
This is the the exact trail that I will be following, and have already met many other travelllers doing that same, either at different speeds or in opposite directions.
I arrived late in Lima on Monday the 7th of November. Ther hostel which I was staying in, Hotel Espana, was to be picking me up there. As soon as I came out of the checked zone into the pick-up area there were hundreds of people gathered waiting. Many were family but a large amount, to my suprise were for hotels and hostels. I immediately thought ¨this is not going to be easy¨I asked on Hotel Espana to one of the airport assistants and he immediately pointed in a direction towards the throng, following his movement a short,excited peruvian jumped into the air above the rest with his ¨hotel espana¨sign above his head, almost as if he had been picked for something extraordinary! On our ride to the hostel his sub-par vehicle randomly turned off on the road and he casually pulled it over to the left lane, as if it was a normal occurance. Waiting in Lima, at mid-night alone in a car, first hour in the city, a rather run-down part of the city at that. I was not too thrilled.
I was exhausted by the time we arrived at 1 AM when we both found out that I was not the one that he was supposed to pick up ¨You´re not Ricardo¨the man at the desk said. We all laughed and I went to bed. I never ended up finding out what happened to Ricardo.
I do not have an incredibly large amount to say about Lima. It was interesting to see the Industrial, ¨developped¨side of Peru although anyone from a 1st world country would quickly realize that this development was pretty shoddy. Lima is an enormous city, most of which I did not see, and was not inspired to attempt to see. People are everywhere, alway, and taxi´s dominate the city streets easily by 70 percent. The city has constant noise, all day and night. All driver´s honk their horns at basically anything that moves including themselves, at least 3 or 4 times per occasion. Its almost like a form of communication, a language of its own. The weather is generally poor in Lima, cloudy most of the time, accumpanied by smog, from the great amounts of polution. The monuments are not exciting and I was not interested much in visiting museums, I spent the 3 days wandering the streets, meeting people for temporary amounts of time and trying to get over my cold.There were cops everywhere downtown at all hours of the day, expecially around the Government Palace. I was awoken more than once by demontrations in the street by citizens.
I was looking forward to leaving Lima when I did on the 11th. I misread my watch in the morning and thought I was late making me rush to the bus station only to find out half way there that I had 2 hours to kill. The joys of travelling. Leaving Lima was an eye-opener, The poverty that was on the outskirts of the city and around the area was immense. Buildings unsuitable for living were built into the walls of mountains and hills. The lack of vegetation was noticeable as the bus brought me closer to Paracas and the desert. The skin of the townspeople changed as well and became more of a red-ish, maroon colour, never have I seen this, likely from years from living under those conditions and in that area. It was full of eye and mind opening sights to say the least.
This is the the exact trail that I will be following, and have already met many other travelllers doing that same, either at different speeds or in opposite directions.
I arrived late in Lima on Monday the 7th of November. Ther hostel which I was staying in, Hotel Espana, was to be picking me up there. As soon as I came out of the checked zone into the pick-up area there were hundreds of people gathered waiting. Many were family but a large amount, to my suprise were for hotels and hostels. I immediately thought ¨this is not going to be easy¨I asked on Hotel Espana to one of the airport assistants and he immediately pointed in a direction towards the throng, following his movement a short,excited peruvian jumped into the air above the rest with his ¨hotel espana¨sign above his head, almost as if he had been picked for something extraordinary! On our ride to the hostel his sub-par vehicle randomly turned off on the road and he casually pulled it over to the left lane, as if it was a normal occurance. Waiting in Lima, at mid-night alone in a car, first hour in the city, a rather run-down part of the city at that. I was not too thrilled.
I was exhausted by the time we arrived at 1 AM when we both found out that I was not the one that he was supposed to pick up ¨You´re not Ricardo¨the man at the desk said. We all laughed and I went to bed. I never ended up finding out what happened to Ricardo.
I do not have an incredibly large amount to say about Lima. It was interesting to see the Industrial, ¨developped¨side of Peru although anyone from a 1st world country would quickly realize that this development was pretty shoddy. Lima is an enormous city, most of which I did not see, and was not inspired to attempt to see. People are everywhere, alway, and taxi´s dominate the city streets easily by 70 percent. The city has constant noise, all day and night. All driver´s honk their horns at basically anything that moves including themselves, at least 3 or 4 times per occasion. Its almost like a form of communication, a language of its own. The weather is generally poor in Lima, cloudy most of the time, accumpanied by smog, from the great amounts of polution. The monuments are not exciting and I was not interested much in visiting museums, I spent the 3 days wandering the streets, meeting people for temporary amounts of time and trying to get over my cold.There were cops everywhere downtown at all hours of the day, expecially around the Government Palace. I was awoken more than once by demontrations in the street by citizens.
I was looking forward to leaving Lima when I did on the 11th. I misread my watch in the morning and thought I was late making me rush to the bus station only to find out half way there that I had 2 hours to kill. The joys of travelling. Leaving Lima was an eye-opener, The poverty that was on the outskirts of the city and around the area was immense. Buildings unsuitable for living were built into the walls of mountains and hills. The lack of vegetation was noticeable as the bus brought me closer to Paracas and the desert. The skin of the townspeople changed as well and became more of a red-ish, maroon colour, never have I seen this, likely from years from living under those conditions and in that area. It was full of eye and mind opening sights to say the least.
Introduction
Welcome friends and family,
I am already one week in and this is the first post, it has taken some time for me to get this arranged and find time to sit down and write. I have not done much blogging before so I am not sure exactly where to begin other than with the beginning of my trip.
I am not sure what I will explain or how I will explain it, it may vary from post to post depending on time and mood.
I am already one week in and this is the first post, it has taken some time for me to get this arranged and find time to sit down and write. I have not done much blogging before so I am not sure exactly where to begin other than with the beginning of my trip.
I am not sure what I will explain or how I will explain it, it may vary from post to post depending on time and mood.
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