Peru Report (Part 1 of 2)

So I’m sure you’re asking yourself, “But wait Todd (I don’t know why you use my name, you’re asking YOURSELF!), why are you reporting on your two week trip to Peru that you just returned from this month when you still haven’t done a report on your Germany/Czech Republic trip from way back in January?” That is a valid and well thought out question. Cause it’s my site. I do what I want, when I want. You can report about my trip to Germany all you want on your site. Honestly though, I didn’t want to talk about the Czech trip because I had alot of animosity for that country when I first returned and I thought if I put some time between me and the trip, I’d calm down and see it more clearly. Since that’s not going to happen, I’ll report on it soon enough, but for now: Peru!

Sometime last year, Lee decided to go back to his mission in Bolivia for three weeks. I’d never been before, so I decided to join him. Kerri overheard us and asked to join the expedition. Through the planning of the trip we decided to visit Peru as well because we (Kerri and I) wanted to hike to Machu Picchu. A couple of months before the trip, Lee bailed. Neither Kerri or I spoke Spanish (I took Spanish 101 in the fall and Kerri knew some from high school and she was going to study abroad for 6 weeks in Costa Rica), but we were already financially invested (plane tickets and Machu Picchu reservation) and we both still wanted to go, so we went. We did move the trip to just be in Peru (supposedly a bit safer than Bolivia) and knocked it down to two weeks. I left Phoenix and flew to Miami because I was going to meet Kerri there and it was the cheapest way to Lima (I found it at Kayak.com) Kerri’s mom flew out separately to surprise Kerri (cause she hadn’t seen her in 6 weeks since Kerri had been in Costa Rica). I got there earlier than Kerri, so her mom picked me up and we drove down to Miami Beach (so I could see the ocean). We passed A1A, Beach Front Ave.

And apparently, Miami Beach is cool with nudity because I saw three pairs of boobies walking around and I’m pretty sure there were more than that. A little uncomfortable when you’re hanging with your friend’s mom, but whatever. We headed back to the airport to meet Kerri and it took her FOREVER to get out of customs. Finally, she came in and we decided to go eat somewhere before our plane left. We drove back down to the beach and drove up and down the street looking for somewhere to eat. Nothing was catching Kerri or her mom’s eye and once we hit South Beach everything was pricy and packed. We ran out of time and headed back to the airport. Most of the restaurants in the airport had closed for the night, so I ended up getting a random sandwich (it wasn’t too bad though) and Kerri got a tuna salad (that ended leaking tuna juice all over inside our food bag). We hopped on the plane and I slept most of the way.

We arrived in Lima, Peru, at about 5 in the morning. We grabbed a taxi to the bus station. The streets were dead so early in the morning and the taxi driver pointed out a couple of transexual hookers before whistling at one of them. And by “the bus station”, I mean “one of the many bus stations”. In Peru, buses rule. That is the most popular form of travel. But, for whatever reason, every bus company in Lima has their own station. I’d heard that Cruz Del Sur was a good company, so that’s the one we went to. We got dropped off there about 5:30am to take a 3 hour bus ride south to Pisco, our first stop. Well, Cruz Del Sur’s next bus for Pisco didn’t leave until 2:30pm. Kerri tried to call a few other bus companies but we weren’t successful in finding an earlier bus/understanding them. Kerri eventually found a taxi driver that told us of a bus company (Sayuk? or something like that) that has buses leaving every 15 minutes. We drove over there and sure enough, we walked right onto a bus and headed for Pisco. We both fell asleep and by the time we woke up, we’d passed our stop. We spoke to the bus attendant (like a flight attendant…but on a bus) and he spoke to the driver. They decided to stop at the next truck stop/weigh station and let us out.

Then the bus attendant got out, crossed the street with us and helped flag down a bus heading back in the direction we were heading so we could ride back for free! Really nice guy. When we got to Pisco, we had the taxi driver take us to the best (best=cheapest) hostel we could find in my Moon Peru book. The Paracas Hotel. It was surprisingly nice. There was a small garden in the middle with an attached restaurant/bar. We got a double room for $15/each with our own bathroom. It had a TV (although only one watchable channel) and free WiFi. It was too late to head to the Paracas Reserve, so we just chilled around the little town, ate dinner, etc. We set up with a tour group to do the Reserve and Islands the next day at the crack of dawn.

The next day we climbed into a large 15 passenger van with a group of other white skinned tourists (mostly Germans) and headed out. They drove us down to the pier and we were crammed onto a boat. I was feeling very much like a tourist. They forced life jackets on us and boated us out to see the candelabra. The don’t know where it came from or why it’s there, but at some point, someone carved a giant candelabra into the side of a mountain.

Then they took us out to the Islas Ballestas. It’s a group of islands covered in birds. So covered that the island is mined for guano (bird crap) by the government to sell as fertilizer. You can smell those islands too. Very cool, but stinky.

Afterward they took us down to the Paracas National Reserve. I was thinking it was going to be some forest with a bunch of wildlife or swampland or something. Nope. It was a big desert. And being from Arizona, that was not the most exciting thing in the world. But it was right next to the ocean, so that was pretty cool.

The rest of the day we spent in Pisco. An earthquake rocked the city last August and much of it was still in large piles of rubble. When the earthquake started a lot of townspeople ran for the cathedral so God would save them. The concrete structure could not bear the strain and crumbled, killing many of the people praying inside.

I had no idea of the state of the town when we came, but it was pretty sad to see. We talked to the guys that were running the tour company and they said that before the disaster, most of the town thought of the United States as a bunch of ignorant, selfish rich people (let’s be honest, we have plenty), but the day after the earthquake hit, they saw large planes landing at the nearest airport full of food, water, blankets, clothing, survival kits, etc. for the people. They said it was from the U.S. government, but knowing how slow they work, my guess is it was charity and religious organizations. They said the Peruvian government had promised aid and had yet delivered (8 months later). It’s refreshing to meet people that don’t judge you based on the country you were born in.

Most of the taxis around Pisco were a little three wheeled motorized rickshaw. I could not believe how many there were. Unfortunately everywhere we needed to go was within walking distance so we didn’t get to ride in one.

Walking back from buying our next bus ticket we came across a bunch of kids breakdancing. We stopped to watch and they loved the attention. Especially when Kerri got in close with the camera.

That night we took a bus to Nasca. We took an Ormeño this time. It was nice and comfortable but it was an hour and a half late. Whatever, we had a hostel waiting for us: Hostel Camiluz. We arrived late (thanks to Ormeño). The room was nice and clean and had cable TV and free WiFi, but we had reservations to fly over the Nasca lines the next morning, so it would have to wait for tomorrow.

We woke up early the next morning and had a small van waiting for us to take us to the airport. We had to share the car with, yep, you guessed it, more German tourists. When we got to the “airport” we sat around for about 20 minutes and i got crazy thirsty, so we crossed the street and found a little shop that not only sold bottled water (most of them did that), but sold COLD bottled water. Soon after, they ushered us into a small Cessna for our flight.

The pilot told us which seats to sit in (for weight distribution? or something) and I got chosen to be in the co-pilot seat. I can’t say for sure, but I think it was because the pilot felt that if he had a heart attack or was killed by a stray bullet, I looked like the most competent to be able to land the plane. We took off and headed for the Nasca lines.

For the uninitiated, the Nasca lines are these giant carvings found on the ground that date back thousands of years. They can not be fully appreciated from the ground and thus their mystique. Some people believe the ancient people that carved them had figured out a primitive hot air balloon to get into the air. Others believe they were symbols carved to communicate with aliens. Adding creedance to the alien theory is that one of the carvings is of a man in a helmet waving. The locals call this carving “the astronaut”. It’s seriously some crazy sh*t.

I took a ride in a small helicopter once and got motion sickness. About 20 minutes into this plane ride, I started feeling weezy. I don’t get sick on large planes, but the jumpiness of small vehicles apparently gets to me. Luckily, it ended soon after. We rode back to the hostel and I laid on the bed for a few minutes. Kerri went with the manager of our hostel (who I’m pretty sure had a crush on Kerri) to buy our bus ticket to Puno (a city on the edge of Lake Titicaca on the other side of the country). By the time she got back I was feeling okay so we went out on the town to see what was going on. We headed down to the main Plaza and market. It was busy, full of raw meat and shady looking vegetables. At the Plaza we sat on the grass and watched people pass until a police officer kicked us off. There was a partially finished hotel we hiked to the top of and overlooked the plaza.

The top few floors were just dirty concrete and it looked like it had been that way for a while. Kinda creepy. Especially when Kerri found a room full of mannequins. We headed back to the hotel to take a nap and the power was off on the entire block (maybe the whole city). Oh, and did I mention it was crazy hot? So, the TV didn’t work, the internet didn’t work, the fan didn’t work, and our bus didn’t leave until midnight. I drenched some towels in cold water and we put them on our faces, trying to stay cool. It didn’t work very well. A few hours later, just as we were going to leave for dinner, the power came back on. We asked Kerri’s boyfriend the manager where we should eat and he recommended a restaurant on the other side of the Plaza. We had nothing else to do with time to kill, so we headed over there. It was a really nice, clean two story restaurant with plenty of foreigners in it. So, I thought, “If I’m going to brave ceviche, this is the place to do it.” So I braved it. And, my friends, it kicked my ass (more on that later). We headed back to the hotel but I still couldn’t get the internet to work. Finally the time came to go to the bus station. This time we decided to take Cruz del Sur. It arrived on time and was the best bus ride of my time in Peru. The seats were comfortable and they gave us pillows and blankets. They served us breakfast in the morning, but by then the ceviche was wreaking havoc on my insides, so I didn’t eat it. Speaking of which, instead of orange juice, it is common to be served mango juice for breakfast. Well, “mango juice” is being a bit liberal, it’s more of an overripened mango pureé served at room temperature.

I don’t know if it’s even possible, but Kerri and the manager didn’t buy a bus ticket straight to Puno. We had a ticket to Aréquipa and then we would need to get off and jump on another bus to Puno. We arrived in Aréquipa around 8am. Luckily, the bus station (unlike Lima) housed all the bus companies under one roof. I don’t remember why we didn’t continue on Cruz del Sur, it either didn’t have a bus to Puno or it wasn’t going to leave for a while, but we found Ormeño was going at 10am, so we decided to give them another shot. Forgive and forget, right? 10am came and the bus wasn’t there. It was running late. 11am came. We were told it’d be there by noon. Noon came. No bus. Now we’re being told 2pm. We walked around to see what other buses were left. All the morning buses left and the others weren’t leaving until 6pm or later. 2pm came and passed. Then 3pm. At 4:30pm, the bus finally rolled in. We demanded a refund and they gave us a partial refund that amounted to about $3.

So, instead of arriving in Puno at 2pm and spending the day shopping (Puno is known for cheap wares), we arrived at 10:30pm ready to eat someone’s babies. A lady met us at the bus station and gave us a cheap room. We taxied over there and it was a nice hostel with beautiful vistas of Puno. They tried to get us to sign up for a boat ride on Lake Titicaca but it left at 7am and all we wanted to do was sleep. They gave us a key and we went upstairs and crashed. But I wasn’t asleep long…

TO BE CONTINUED!