Peru

After a weekend of waiting for Mario trying to make his way to Peru he finally arrived the following Monday, exhausted and hungry and without his luggage. We bought a few essentials and expected that his bags would catch up with him before long. We were happy to be together again after our month-long separation so for now, the difficulties seemed to be behind us so I concentrated on getting things ready for the boat’s arrival.

I met with teachers at a couple schools in Lima, did some exploring of the city, and met with the manager of the Yacht Club Peruano. The boat arrived on Thursday and Mario and I enjoyed dinner at the Yacht Club with captain and crew of the good Ocean Watch. They were all notably impressed by Mario’s persistence and perseverance through his ordeal getting to Peru. We will add Mario’s stay in the Panama airport jail to his collection of unbelievable but true tales to entertain our dinner guests.

The following afternoon Mario and I took off on a trip south towards the desert region of the country. We rented a car and I somehow navigated my way safely though the hair-raising Lima traffic. Traffic signals and signs in Lima are not even taken as suggestion, they are blatantly ignored.

We arrived to Pisco that evening bleary-eyed and with no idea of where to stay or eat. As seems to be always true in Latin America, someone was standing by to take advantage of just such an opportunity. His name was Felix. Felix hailed us down as we were scanning the streets for signs of a hotel. He led us to a hotel that was cheap and close (and actually had internet) so we gladly pulled in and parked. Felix wanted to sell us his tours of the area. He opened his pitch by showing us a book about the 2007 Pisco earthquake and pointed out the members of his family pictured in the book, listed as dead. Somehow that led him directly to selling us tours of the nearby national parks. We bought the boat tour to Las Islas Ballestas for the following morning. It wasn’t until the next day that we found out we’d paid three times the price of the tickets with Felix. Alas, the lesson was relearned not to make purchases when overtired.

The islands were blanketed by birds and sea lions. Mario’s binoculars were one of the items lost with his bag so he was disappointed to have to look at birds without optical enhancement but he took plenty of pictures anyway. It was beautiful but the overpowering odor of guano will be imprinted in my memory for a long time as well.

Following the boat tour we continued on to Lago Huacachina in nearby Ica. This is a town near a fresh water-sulfurous spring (there was no sulfur odor however) surrounded by huge sand dunes. We stayed at a fun colonial hotel on the lake and signed up for a dune buggy/sandboarding tour for sunset.

The buggy ride was breathtaking (both from apprehension and beauty) as we sped up and over the crests and valleys of the dunes. We stopped for pictures and then for the main event. Sandboarding. I had tried this once before already in Chile and had done alright but these dunes appeared much larger and more intimidating than the others. Mario zipped down the dunes first, belly down, head first. It took me a little longer to build up the courage but once I did I could belly slide with the best of them. We watched the sun fall below the sandy summits together in one of the most romantic moments of our trip and then climbed back in the buggy for the ride back to the hotel.

We were up early the next morning boarding our private taxi to take us to Nazca, home of the famous Nazca Lines. The drive there was one of the most memorable parts of the day. Grey barren mountains grew out of the morning mist from the desert floor. The road climbed through the hills and then descended into impossibly green lush valleys.

Mario was complaining that morning of an upset stomach, presumably from another meal consumed overeagerly. Nevertheless, we arrived to the small airport in Nazca. This had been my idea but I was beginning to question my sanity. No matter how I felt now the tickets were purchased and there was no going back. We boarded the four passenger plane that was to fly us over the Lines. Mario had initially tried to jump in front but after I almost killed him he resigned himself to sitting behind the pilot with me. We puttered up to the runway and then with a little speed and not so much effort we were airbound. At first it was very pleasant. The ride was smooth and the mountains and fields fell neatly below us. That was, until our first turn. We came to the “astronaut” geogliph first and as the plane tilted 90 degrees to the left and then again to the right I gripped Mario’s arm with the force of a drowning victim. I was ready to go down but of course that wasn’t an option. I tried to make the best of it and I did see some of the Lines while the plane wasn’t turning. At each turn though, I shut my eyes tightly and prayed it would be over quickly.

Mario, on the other hand, made a much better showing of the affair and dutifully looked over both sides of the plane and got some great pictures and even some video. Just as we were finishing our last turn however, Mario began to feel the combined effects of the previous night’s fish and the dizzying motion of the flight. He reached for a bag and it was all over. We landed two minutes later. We bought some obligatory souvenirs (including a shirt to add to the few clothes Mario had with him in Peru) and climbed back into the taxi, stunned and shaken. Of course we had a good laugh about it all, once Mario was feeling better.

We stopped at a tower to see some more of the Lines and then a little museum that gave more background about the history of these mysterious Lines. Unfortunately there wasn’t much time for recovery. There was an hour’s rest at the hotel pool and then we were back on our way to Lima, arriving late, and then I began a busy week’s work the following morning.