Arequipa and Colca Canyon, Peru – July 21st - 23rd, 2017

We arrived early in Arequipa and as usual, had to struggle through hoards of taxi drivers attempting to rip us off. We eventually left the bus station, walked down the road, flagged one down (admittedly, this occurred 20 minutes later) and got one for a ¼ of the “fair price” from the drivers parked at the station. We were able to check into the guesthouse early, but after a quick breakfast on the rooftop terrace, ventured out to explore the city. Arequipa, the 2^nd largest city in Peru, is famous for a historic city center (a UNESCO site) and views of the surrounding towering volcanos. Before delving into the sites, we planned and booked an excursion to hike into Colca Canyon the following day. Colca Canyon is one of the deepest canyons in the world! At 13,640 feet deep, it’s over 2x deeper than the Grand Canyon! Next on the agenda, was to find an electronics store to replace Andy’s iPhone battery, which in addition to holding a charge for all of 30 minutes at a time, had swelled to about double the original size. Finding a repair “store” turned out to be quite the adventure. After visiting two local markets, asking a dozen or more locals, and wandering through areas which had never seen tourists, we finally stumbled upon a 50 sq. ft. shop which had the proper part and expertly executed the repair for about half the US cost. Errands complete, we walked through the UNESCO protected historic city center. The city is gorgeous, with brightly colored shops, pristine streets, and magnificent views. After lunch at a fancy European-esque sandwich shop, rest and cards at the guesthouse, pre-dinner cake at a local pasteleria (bakery), sunset at a rooftop bar in the main square (where we did not buy a drink because the waiter never came – bonus! free sunset views at the best spot in town), and dinner at a touristy gourmet potato themed Peruvian restaurant, we returned to the guesthouse and fell asleep instantly – which was good since the bus to Colca Canyon picked us up at 3am the next morning.

Around Arequipa. 

More of Arequipa.

Food, phone store, swollen battery, and creepy mannequin heads which are too small for the body (seen all over South America). 

On schedule, we were on our way to Colca Canyon bright and early the next morning (I guess not so much bright since at 3am, the sun is nowhere near rising). Along the way, we stopped for “breakfast” which consisted of typical Peruvian bread with butter and jam plus tea and coffee…perfect fuel for an 8-hour hike (go back and read with sarcasm if you missed that the first time around). Next stop was at a condor viewpoint overlooking a beautiful section of canyon. After 20 minutes of disappointment, we were thrilled when several condors flew directly in front of us! They are colossal birds!!! So cool! A few more hours of driving, we arrived at the start of the trek. While waiting to depart, the nearby Sabancaya volcano farted! Not going to lie, we were a bit terrified at first, thinking it was erupting, but apparently a little toot now and then is normal and expected. It was the first time any of us had seen an active volcano fart! After ooing and awing at the volcanic flatulence, we were on our way down Colca Canyon, accompanied by another condor!

Cruz del Condor viewpoint equip with handicrafts for sale and the start of the trek including a distant volcano with gas.

Our group consisted of two American friends (who had just finished a 2-year stint in the Peace Corps in Guyana), a civil engineer from Basque Country (now living and working in Uruguay), a French couple, two Argentinian women (one of which was a little person), and our Peruvian guide (for the first time ever, a female guide!). After 3-hours descending about 1200 m (~ 4000 feet), we arrived at the river at the bottom. Much to my disappointment, the tour did not take us to the deepest section of canyon, and the elusive depth was lost on us… although still spectacularly beautiful, to be fair. After crossing the river, we ventured up the other side for only 30 minutes before traversing the canyon for another 4 hours. Along the way, we stopped for a surprisingly delicious lunch at a village and thanks to the elevation and length of the hike, lost a few of our group members to donkeys along the way. Although a few others did make it without the help of donkeys, the going was slow and rough, especially for the girls with altitude sickness who were wearing Sperry’s and fashion (not hiking) boots. Around dusk, we finally made it to the oasis – yup, an OASIS at the bottom of the dry canyon!!! The lush green vegetation looked oddly out of place, yet exquisite! We passed several, really nice looking resort-type accommodations, before finally arriving at our lodging for the night… fair to say that besides the pool, our accommodation was not so much a resort as a decrepit assortment of concrete huts with bed sheets and comforters that looked like they had never been washed (our comforter likely had been given a mud (or poop) bath before being half rinsed, allowed to grow a little mold in the drying process, and draped over our half century old mattress – again thankful for our silk sleeping sheets). I guess you get what you pay for. Luckily we were so tired that shortly after cards with the group and soup and spaghetti dinner, we crashed in our dirty bed and slept like babies.  

The trek down Colca Canyon.

Traversing Colca Canyon. Along the way, our guide showed us how a fungus which grows on cactus in the area is used as red dye. 

Our not-so luxurious accommodations at the oasis.

Not-bright, but again super early the next morning (4 am wake-up), we packed our backpacks and started the 2 ½ hour assent out of the canyon. We eventually broke free of the herd of cattle and made it to the top about an hour before the rest of our group arrived. After breakfast, we loaded up in the van, and were on our way back to Arequipa. Even though we didn’t get to see the depth of the canyon, the overnight trip was still spectacular and we thoroughly enjoyed the trip – especially because the group meshed well together! En-route to Arequipa, we stopped at a tourist trap to pet some baby alpaca and try colca sours – pisco sours made with cactus fruit (um… awesome on both counts!). We also stopped at a volcano overlook, which also happened to be the highest point on the road at 16,109 feet elevation! We arrived back in Arequipa at about 6pm and showered before heading out to find some grub. As had been our experience in South America so far, most restaurants were closed for unknown reasons, and we eventually settled on a pizza place with terrible service, but decent food. Can’t have it all… 

Trek out of Colca Canyon.         

The town at the end of the trek. The guinea pigs in the cage in the bottom-center photo are not pets, but a delicacy in Peru. The dog in the bottom-right photo found Andy's food to be a comfortable pillow during breakfast. He was so sweet, but similar to our bed sheets likely never had experienced a bath.

The trip back to Arequipa.

Cusco, Peru – July 19th – 20th, 2017

After spending 21 hours in the bus, we finally arrived in Cusco in the late morning. Tired and stinky, we walked ourselves to the guesthouse, where we were able to check in so Andy could rest – he was feeling quite crappy, with similar yet milder, symptoms to what I had been experiencing for the last week (oh how the tables had turned). While Andy slept, Matt and I went out to grab lunch and explore the city. Poor Matt had been with us for almost a week and the entire time either me or Andy was in bed sick (I say “poor Matt” but really, it’s poor us – let me tell you: being stomach sick on a bus is not only horrific, but severely anxiety inducing since any gastro-relief is guaranteed to be epically public).

The drive to Cusco including tourist phone obsession at dinner and my artistic rendition of the earthquake and landslides that forced our 21-hour windy re-route through Cusco.

Andy and I had visited Cusco before hiking the Inca Trail in 2013. It was astounding how much the city had grown and changed in 4-years! Not only was it more crowded with tourists, but chain restaurants and fast-food joints had popped up everywhere! The square was essentially unrecognizable. Yes, sure, the city appeared cleaner and more-wealthy, but much of the local charm had been replaced by tourism… bummer, but we still loved the city. So much beauty and history… not to mention the city is surrounded by incredible ruins and the stunning Sacred Valley. Back at the guesthouse, we stirred Andy, who grunted and re-positioned himself in the fetal position. Marking him for a lost cause, Matt and I brought the laundry for an overdue wash and worked with the guesthouse owner to arrange for a taxi to bring us to some lesser known ruins the next day. That evening, Matt and I went out to eat again. Even though I had previously sworn off all food, stating, “I never want to eat again,” I was eating again… imagine that.

The city of Cusco.

Side streets in Cusco, including the hotel that Andy and I had stayed at in 2013. It is a non-profit that donates the proceeds to helping local kids. Matt and I randomly stumbled upon it while wandering around.

The next morning, Andy was feeling quite a bit better (miraculously) and, for the first time since Matt’s arrival, we all went out together for a day trip. Our taxi driver, Emerson, was awesome! Emerson spoke even less English than we did Spanish, so we mostly conversed in Spanish, helping each other with the other’s language along the way. Our first stop was at an overlook at the edge of the Sacred Valley, where we bought a few souvenirs from a local family, took photos, and pet the baby llama. Next stop was Ollantaytambo, a massive terraced fortified ruin with impressive rock masonry and carvings. The view from the top was incredible! After exploring the ruins for a few hours, we returned to the taxi and made our way to Salinas de Maras, which are pre-Incan salt mining terraces. A salt water spring was diverted to fill thousands of individual terraced fields, allowing the water to evaporate, and the salt to be collected, before filling the field with more salt water. Besides being unique and beautiful, the process had been repeated for the past thousand years or so… impressive! The next stop was at Moray, an Incan site with terraced holes, thought to be used as an agricultural research center. The elevation difference and relative position in the circle mimicked different climates throughout the Incan empire, allowing researchers to develop hearty plants and food stocks… even more impressive!!! The last stop of the day was at Chinchero, and Incan site with some terraces, a Catholic church, and an expansive field overlooking the beautiful Peruvian landscape. Struck by the desire to do cartwheels in the field, we ended up spending a good amount of time laughing at each other’s cartwheel skills, creating shadow puppets on the rock wall, and learning acro-yoga from Matt while watching the sun go down. It was a great day.    

The overlook en-route to the ruins.

Ollantaytambo!

More Ollantaytambo and the awesome llama hat I wish I had bought - reverse buyers remorse. Also, the most inventive sprinkler ever! 

Salinas de Maras. 

Beautiful Moray.

Chincero.

Being kids at Chinchero. Apart from our acro-skills, check out how perfectly the stones fit together in the wall at the bottom-left!

Back in Cusco, our great day got worse when the laundry establishment lost a pair of PJ shorts (my only pair of PJ shorts actually) and then accused me of stealing my own shorts… no, seriously, she actually went and reviewed the surveillance camera footage of us going through the clothes, convinced I had stolen them in order to scam her out of money. Seriously!!!?! It took about an hour and a half to sort it out – the time was mostly spent refusing to leave without them looking for them. Eventually, the shorts were found in the back room and the woman apologized profusely. All of this interaction was done in Spanish by the way… remarkable how fast you can learn a language when you have no other choice.

Narrowly missing the bus, we rushed from the guesthouse with a takeout pizza in order to make it to the PeruHop bus station in time for the overnight bus to Arequipa. When we arrived, our stomachs sank… it was completely abandoned. Had we missed the bus?! Nope, the PeruHop staff had messed up (thanks to the earthquake situation) and booked us on a bus which didn’t exist. Our options were to wait until the next night (which was not an option since we had a tight schedule to maintain) or attempt to take a bus with a different company. The PeruHop office manager was amazing and helped make other last-minute arrangements and a couple hours later than expected, we were on our way to Arequipa on a double decker bus with TVs in the seats and a stewardess – payed for by PeruHop! Customer service?... what’s that? 

Nazca, Peru – July 18th, 2017

Although the original plan was to stay in Nazca for a night to take the flight tour to see the Nazca Lines the next morning, when we got on the bus, we were informed that there had been a major earthquake the night before and the road to Arequipa was closed for the foreseeable future. Therefore, we had 2 options: 1) stay in Nazca and hope the road opens in time for us to make it to Lake Titicaca for Matt’s flight in a few days or 2) drive all the way to Cusco (about 15 hours) and take an overnight bus the next night to Arequipa (about 9 hours) – essentially tacking on an extra 13 hours of bus time. Not seeing another alternative, we decided to take the long-cut to Cusco. Although this undoubtedly sucked, at least we weren’t the tourists on the bus that left the day before – they were stranded between landslides and were stuck on the bus until rescuers could clear the road.

Before getting underway on the overnight journey to Cusco, we stopped at a viewing platform to see a few of the Nazca Lines. The Nazca Lines are a series of massive ancient geoglyphs thought to have been created sometime between 500 BC and 500 AD. The designs, which are simply shallow lines made in the ground, mostly represent animals and human figures. From the viewing platform we were able to see the lizard (which was cut in half by the road, thanks humanity), the hands, and the tree. Thanks to the isolation and dry, windless climate of the plateau, the geoglyphs have remained mostly intact for our viewing pleasure (would have been better from an airplane, but still glad we got to see them).

Views on the way to, and at, the Nazca Lines.

The Nazca Lines!

So, I’ve got to be honest, the trip to Cusco was, without a doubt the worst bus ride of the entire trip – if you have been reading our blog since the beginning, you know we have had some epically terrible bus rides. Around the time we stopped at the Nazca Lines my stomach started grumbling and producing massive amounts of gas and other non-solid products (sorry for the overshare). The cramping was absolutely unbearable. After spending over half the time at the Nazca Lines in the porta-potty and ¾ of the time at “dinner” in the bathroom, it was clear that the next 13 hours were not going to be fun. Indeed, they were not. At about midnight I forced Andy to go make the bus pullover, where I was sick on the side of the road, then around 2am, Andy had to go ask the driver if he could drop us off at the next hospital. Since we were in the middle of nowhere and the health care was considered sub-par (even by the locals), they refused to let us off the bus and instead compromised by saying that I alone could use the bus toilet for solid waste – well it wasn’t solid so that wasn’t a problem… After overdosing on Dramamine, I eventually fell into a drug-induced stupor and when I woke my stomach felt bearable, even non-emergent. Unfortunately, I also woke to Andy hunched over in pain – I guess we were playing tag because now he was “it.”       

Huacachina, Peru – July 17th – 18th, 2017

A Tale of 2 Perspectives, Round 2:

Andy

After arriving in Huacachina, we immediately went to find our hotel to drop off our bags and deposit Dani into her bed to rest. As is usually the case when you are desperate for something, things did not go smoothly. Our hotel was overbooked and subsequently scrambled to find us other accommodations. Thankfully, their sister hotel had availability, so we were whisked over to our new digs. Turns out it was the swanky luxo-camp spot in town with a pool, glamp-ish tent, and bar! It only took an extra 15 minutes to check in and they didn’t up our fee either. Sweet!

The eco-camp in Huacachina.

Poor Dani rested while Matt and I walked around and soaked in the surroundings: a small oasis town ringed around a pond with palm trees surrounded by enormous sand dunes, pretty freaking cool! After a quick tour of the town, we made our way to the meet up location for a dune buggy tour. We boarded our dune buggy which didn’t have the look of a functioning vehicle – it was beat up and rusty, the seats were torn, it was missing some seatbelts, and it generally had the feeling of a very used and abused piece of crap. Not surprisingly, the driver took the loaded buggy (which did start, to our surprise) to the entrance of the dunes, stopped, and told everyone they needed to pay the entrance fee…sure we did. We had all already paid the required fees through PeruHop. Some of us (Matt and I included) were resolved to not pay the scam while others didn’t seem to care or didn’t know better so they paid up. Eventually, after many other buggies past us, we got going again and off we went into the enormous dunes.

Photos from around Huacachina.

The driver was hell-bent on going as fast as he could in the screaming machine. Just driving on empty sand dunes, this meant the whole buggy was bouncing all over the place, catching air, and spraying sand everywhere. It was awesome! I should also mention that Matt and I were in the last row, so about 3 feet aft of the rear axle. This meant that we had the wildest ride! Unfortunately, our neighbor’s seatbelt didn’t work and kept coming undone in the bumpiest parts so they kept flying out of their seat and into the roof of the buggy. It was actually a little scary, but the rollercoaster of a ride was exhilarating and thankfully our seatbelts worked fine.

We stopped at a few sand dunes to try our hand at sandboarding. Most people were not as dumb as me and simply sat on the boards down the pretty short hills. I approached it just like snowboarding though, because, why not. Unfortunately, the boards had no edges and no control, so of course I fell. But I fell on my ass, and I fell so hard that I felt it for the next month. Seriously. Ouch! Sand turns out to be much much much harder than snow. My ass pain made the ride back to the oasis a bit rough, but it was still fun.

The next morning, we enjoyed the delicious breakfast at the sweet glamping hotel and relaxed for a few hours. Dani was feeling a bit better thankfully, so we all managed to climb one of the nearby dunes and soak in the views. Naturally, Matt and I raced down the hill (Matt won) while bounding like astronauts on the moon. I seriously felt like a kid in Huacachina, it was great!

Dani

Huacachina was incredible and unique, although less so from a sick bed in a tent. To be fair, my stomach seemed to be on an upward trend, but after not eating for almost 3 days, my energy level was low – too low for hiking up sand dunes. Alas, when we arrived, Andy and Matt went out to ride dune buggies and sandboard down the fine sand mountains, while I laid in a tent. I did venture out to dinner and even ate a little something, so that was a good sign. The next morning, I felt strong enough to sluggishly walk up the dunes and watch the guys race down. It was disappointing that nobody fell… how rude of them to deprive me of a good laugh. Before leaving town, we stopped at a pisco tour where we learned about how they make pisco. It was pretty interesting – and hey! I actually got to participate! Little did I know that the “upward trend” with my stomach was really just a speedbump before a sharp downturn into the gastro abyss… 

Pisco Tour where we learned about the process (which is essentially wine distillation), tried some samples (well, me less so), and were shown the some local handicrafts (look closely at the bottom-left photo).

Paracas, Peru – July 16th – 17th, 2017

A Tale of 2 Perspectives:

Andy

On the way to Paracas we drove past the Pachacamac archeological site and stopped along the road so the guide, Alonso, could talk briefly about the 2000 year old ruins (and how we didn’t have the time to go in). If you’re in Lima, sounds like you should go to Pachacamac! The bus continued with another brief stop for some delicious fresh bread from wood-fired ovens. Dani wasn’t feeling well and had a couple bites of the bread, but I scarfed down the rest. Between bites of palate satisfaction, I felt bad for Dani but was pretty sure she’d come around quickly…

Our last interesting stop was at Casa Hacienda San Jose to see a plantation house with a lengthy network of tunnels beneath the property. During Spanish rule, plantations paid taxes based on the number of slaves they had working. Naturally, in order to minimize taxes, the plantation owners would send most of their slaves underground when the tax auditor came around looking. Egregious human rights infringements aside, OK clever Mr. Plantation Owner. However, 300 years ago, tax auditors didn’t just make a trip out to plantations for a few hours to check-in. Nope, first it took them a week to get there, and then they’d stay on the property for several weeks. So, hundreds of slaves were forced to live in tunnels/caves for weeks on end, in cramped, oxygen-starved, filthy, and disease-ridden conditions. The tunnel’s size, smell, crowdedness, and general heaviness was so oppressive (not to mention Dani feeling so terribly), that Dani had to bail on the tour early and get some fresh air – this was alarming since Dani is definitely not one to quit on something.

Fresh bread and Casa Hacienda slave tunnels.

With our nostrils enjoying the clean air and our eyes re-adjusted to the bright sunlight, we finally arrived to Paracas. Badly in need of rest, Dani holed up in our hostel room while Matt and I grabbed lunch with some fellow Peru Hoppers and then took an ATV tour that I was super excited about. Paracas is very near to the Paracas National Reserve: a large protected area of wildlife full desert and coastline. I had read about ATV tours through the reserve and it sounded amazing. So Matt and I boarded our ATVs and our guide took us out…to a sandy ATV track between the town and the main road. The guide had us driving around the track in a several loops and then disappeared for a while leaving us to race each other a bit and see how fast we could go. It was a lot of fun, but with the clock ticking, I quickly realized it wasn’t going to be the ATV tour I had hoped it would be. We made the most of it though and enjoyed trying to catch some air and keep from falling off. The guide returned eventually and brought us to a spot on the beach where we could see some flamingoes in the far distance, and then he brought us back to town. “Tour” over. Oh well.

Fun in Paracas! Since backyards are a luxury very few have (if any), many Peruvians simply put their dogs on the roof during the day. 

The next morning, Dani was feeling even worse and we all decided it would be best for her to skip the Isla Bellestas boat tour – which would definitely not help her feel better. I felt terrible about leaving Dani behind in such misery, but we had already paid for the tour and there wasn’t much I could do to make her feel better. So Matt and I boarded the boat tour and immediately came upon dolphins in the bay. Then seals. And then a few sea lions. More dolphins! Fishing boats covered in pelicans! Dani’s missing this! We made it out to the tiny Islas Bellestas which are a natural bird sanctuary and are home to millions and millions of birds. The birds produce poop (AKA guano) and every seven years, a company comes out and scrapes all the guano off to sell it at $1000 per ton (BIG $$$ in Peru). We weren’t allowed off the boats, but you could still smell the islands and they were absolutely carpeted with birds. I’ve never seen so many! We even saw a penguin and a bunch more seals and sea lions. On our way back to Paracas, we saw more dolphins and sea lions fishing. We also saw the Candelabra, which is a 600 ft tall geoglyph carved into the side of the coast-line. The age and purpose are disputed, but it is thought to be about 2000 years old and can be seen from 12 miles out at sea. It was impressive, to say the least.

Isla Bellestas. The black on the hill of the top-left photo is not a different soil color, but birds! The Candelabra is shown in the bottom-middle photo.

Wildlife at Isla Bellestras.

Back in Paracas, Dani was doing even worse, so we tracked down a local clinic with the help of the hostel owner while Matt headed off for a bus tour of the National Reserve. Diagnosed with a stomach infection, Dani was instructed to take the Cipro we had. We slowly walked back to the hostel and I packed up our stuff while Dani continued to try and rest and nibble on some bread before we hopped back on the bus to our next stop.

Paracas National Reserve. Photo cred - Matt since we were at the Dr.

Dani

I felt sick the entire way to Paracas. We stopped several times, which I mostly used as an opportunity to sit on the bus and continue to feel nauseated. My own motion seemed to make matters worse, so staying as physically still as possible was the main objective. I did get out at the Casa Hacienda San Jose to see the slave tunnels, but once inside the tunnels the herd of people squeezed into a small, dank and dusty cavern made me feel both claustrophobic and anxious that I was going to vomit on the crowd…. I ended up turning around and trying my luck at sitting perfectly still.

Once in Paracas, Andy and Matt went out to enjoy themselves while I stayed put in the concrete jail-like room and slept. With a mild-grade fever, we were not sure that taking the antibiotics we had with us was the right course of action. With no doctor in town (or so we thought), I decided to tough it out and continually hoped that if I slept long enough I would wake up feeling a bit better. Unfortunately, it worked the other way around, with the symptom severity increasing. When bloody #2 came out, we started to be more desperate and asked the hotel owner for help. She walked us to an open clinic, where we met with a doctor for the bargain price of 13 soles ($4) while Matt took the Peru Hop bus to the National Reserve. The doctor said I had a stomach infection and to take the Cipro we had with us. In hindsight, taking the meds 2-days earlier may have enabled me to see the bird and animal-life splendor of Isla Bellestas. Instead, I missed Paracas completely and in order to stay on schedule I had to suffer through another bus ride while trying not to puke or defecate all over our new friends. Oh the joys of travel…

Lima, Peru – July 13th – 16th, 2017

After an awkward airport viewing of a Netflix sex scene, we arrived in Lima. It had been an uneventful trip, especially since we decided to catch the Airport Express bus to Miraflores (where the tourists go) rather than fight the taxi’s for a reasonable fare (like last time). We wandered around Miraflores for a solid 20 minutes before finally stumbling upon our unmarked guest house. Our room at the guest house was literally about 8 square feet larger than the size of the bed (clean though, so no complaints).

After an overpriced touristy breakfast at an adorable café, we relaxed a bit before Andy ventured out to get a Peruvian SIM card for the phone. It took a while, but he was eventually successful and came back just in time to partake in a cardio ski workout (in preparation for our… spoiler alert… Chilean ski-cation in August). No kidding the workout, combined with the elevation, almost killed us. For the rest of the day, we mostly killed time walking around and eating at a nearby Indian restaurant, while we waited in anticipation for our friend Matt to arrive. We were pretty stoked to have a friend join us for the next couple weeks. We visited Parque Kennedy, also known as the cat park, where literally hundreds of stray cats have found a home thanks to the cat food and adoption potential provided by a local non-profit. We also walked along the water, enjoyed the sights and enviously watched the paragliders and surfers in action. Matt arrived late in the evening, as expected, and we promptly went to bed… to be fair I may have already been sleeping.

Restaurants and Cat Parks! Not sure how we feel about the combo Starbucks and Chile's.

The coastline of Lima including El Parque Del Amore or Love Park.

We rose fairly early and made breakfast at the guest house before making our way to a Lima walking tour of downtown. The tour met at a bar where there was free beer tasting – a bit early for drinking if you ask me, but… when in Lima. Thanks to the free status of the tour, it ended up being more of a herd than a tour, but well organized nonetheless. We took a bus to downtown Lima and visited a large number of parks, historic buildings, and plazas, learning about the history along the way. We also stopped on several occasions for food and drink tastings – coffee, a potato dish, and lots of different types of pisco. About half way through the lengthy tour I started feeling a bit peaked, but pushed through, hoping my growing stomach discomfort would subside. It didn’t… but eventually the tour ended and we made our way back to Miraflores. If it wasn’t for the friendly local that came to our rescue, we may never have made the return bus trip thanks the confusing ticket turntable.

Downtown Lima Tour.

The sustainability fair in Miraflores! Pretty cool to see them raising awareness on environmental issues. The bottom-right photo shoes the hundreds of surfers taking advantage of the long break - we were wishing for an extra day to surf. 

While I laid in bed clutching my stomach (I blame the eggs from breakfast which came from a random corner store with a stack of room temperature eggs piled about waist high), Andy and Matt ventured out again to visit the Miraflores area and coast. Later, we all grabbed a quick meal before turning in for the night – it was going to be an early morning. Since Matt had just over 2 weeks for the trip, we decided to use Peru Hop for our bus travel from Lima to Lake Titicaca. Peru Hop is a tourist bus company that drives a specific route and lets you hop on and off (hence the name) at different stops along the way. In between major stops, they take side trips to remarkable places en-route that you would normally pass over with a local bus company. The first leg of the trip, from Lima to Paracas, started before the sun the next morning. 

Safely on the luxury bus, stomach ache in toe, we were on our way. Before leaving the city, we stopped at Monumento al Soldado Desconacido. Lima is remarkably clean and beautiful, but it wasn’t until we arrived at the city overlook that we realized that the tourist areas of the city are surrounded by shanty brick buildings housing impoverished people (almost 80% of the city consists of these neighborhoods). There is massive class separation. While in Miraflores we saw catered birthday parties for infants and 5-star restaurants which market to the richest of the rich, yet the perspective from the overlook was quite different. Surprisingly, some of the most desirable locations (in terms of ocean and city views) are occupied by shanty towns. We learned from our bus guide, that this is because Peru has a law that if you can prove that you or your family have lived on a piece of land for over 20 years, the land is legally yours.

Quick stop at the Monumento al Saldado Desconacido before heading towards Paracas.

P.S. Lima is at sea level. 

Mancora, Peru – July 5th – 13th, 2017

From Cartagena, Colombia, it took us about 36 hours to get to Mancora, Peru, a surf town near the border with Ecuador. We flew from Cartagena to Bogota, had a 3-hour layover, then flew to Lima, where we stayed the night at a nearby guesthouse. Unfortunately, our planning skills fell short of figuring out how to get from the Lima airport to the guesthouse 3 km away (1.85 miles). Apparently, the Lima airport taxi drivers have united and refuse to transport anyone (especially a foreigner) for less than $20, even if the trip will only take 5 minutes! After a half hour of failed bargaining attempts (the lowest price we got was $15), we ended up calling the guesthouse (through the airport wifi) and had them send a car for the bargain price of $10. We were not pleased, especially since the guesthouse cost was $20 for the night and breakfast and we had to be back at the airport in only 6-hours (and to get back we had to pay another $10!). I know I know, $20, no big deal, but $20 is food for 3 days there! Speaking off food, the hotel was nowhere near any food options and the only vegetarian option was to pay $10 for eggs. Frustrating! Speaking of frustrating, due to the persistence of the guesthouse staff, we were picked up at 3am and transported to the airport in order to be 2-hours early for our domestic flight leaving at 5:15am. When we arrived, the Avianca staff decided it was a good time to inform us that the flight was delayed 5-hours. Why they couldn’t they tell us earlier, you ask? Funny, I asked the same question. Well, you see, they didn’t know that the plane that was supposed to arrive the night before didn’t arrive. Wait… they did know that! ARRRGH! Not to worry though, they were comping breakfast, which turned out to be 4 oz. of tea and 2 pieces of white bread. By the time the plane took off at 10:45am, we had spent more time in the Lima airport than the guesthouse. To be fair, the roundtrip flight from Lima to Piura cost only $42, so how much could we really complain.

Now finally in Piura, we still had to make our way to Mancora, 4-ish-hours away. We knew we needed to take a bus, what we didn’t know was which bus to take, how to get to the bus station, and what time the bus to Mancora left (all things that could have been solved with the internet – if only we had a SIM card and the bus companies posted their schedules). Unperturbed, we avoided the crooked taxis by walking to the main street and jumping on a colectivo public bus toward the station on Maps.Me (our trusty offline map app). After an incredibly indirect route through the city and lots of interesting people watching, we paid our 1 sol (30 cents) and hoped off at the first station. Unfortunately, the bus didn’t leave for another 2-hours so we decided to risk it and go to the other bus station (on the other side of town of course). After another 30-minute colectivo ride, we arrived and were pleased to discover that this bus was not only cheaper, but left in 5 minutes! Woohooo! Once on our way, we reflected on how far we’ve come with our traveling skills. Not only did we not yell at anyone all day (including each other), but we went with the flow, were patient, and sure enough, arrived at our destination unscathed. I guess the realization that getting worked up does nothing for you has finally set in.  

Travel days, including comped airlines breakfast and the view in Lima.

After moving around every few days, it was a relief to check into a hotel and stay for an entire week! Much of our time was spent taking surf lessons, attempting to surf on our own, doing yoga, hanging out at the mostly-abandoned hotel/surf camp, fighting off an extraordinarily persistent sinus infection, and catching up on a back-log of travel planning and house rental turnover absurdity. Oh ya, and celebrating our 1-year anniversary!!! I’ll start with the surfing: We’re terrible, the break was tiny, and the instructor got frustrated with us (specifically me), but it was still a lot of fun. The break being tiny was both a blessing and a curse. On one hand, you could circumnavigate the white water, making paddling out a breeze. On the other hand, the break was so small that all the surfers were crammed together making it difficult to catch a wave without running into somebody (the lack of turning skills multiplied the severity of this problem). Also, for a few days in a row, the waves were so pitiful, that after spending an hour sitting on the glassy calm water (think lake not ocean), we were forced to give up and hope for better surf later in the day. In summary, the surf wasn’t very good – even to our standards, but that doesn’t mean that we didn’t enjoy it. To make up for the surf conditions, the yoga was extra difficult. We especially appreciated the laying down (Savasana) pose at the end.

The beach in Mancora and the adorable friendly puppy that turned deranged before out eyes. 

Surfing and wiping out surfing. Yes, the waves are super small, thanks for noticing.

When we weren’t doing yoga or surfing, we could be found at the surf camp hanging out in the hammocks or talking to the owner or one other guest. Yup, you read that right, one other guest (luckily, she was awesome and we enjoyed her company)! Fair to say that it was not peak tourist season in Mancora. A side-effect to it being off-season was that many of the restaurants were closed. This still left a fairly decent selection of touristy restaurants, but we found none that were good enough to write home about… with the exception of our surf camp hotel which had the most incredible fresh breakfast and a dessert cart which supplied us with cheap incredible pies and cakes each night! With crepes, fresh bread, fresh fruit, smoothies, French press coffee, and more, breakfast became, by far our favorite time of the day. After several days of unenthused eating (except breakfast and dessert of course), I ventured into the local side streets and after quizzing every local I could find (in broken Spanish), eventually made it to the market street where I was greeted with curiosity and bewilderment – apparently not many tourists go to the local market. Undeterred, I bought enough sandwich fixin’s for the rest of the week, thereby solving the “sick of eating out” crises. A side-effect to my shopping adventure was that I realized just how much I relied on Andy to share the responsibility of asking questions, understanding what they said, counting money, and making sure we weren’t being ripped off. It was very overwhelming to do on my own.   

Laguna surf camp.

Day trip to nearby Los Organos.

Unfortunately, it was not all fun and games in Mancora. After almost 3-weeks of attempting to ignore a sinus headache and runny nose, I finally broke down and went to the pharmacy. As I’ve mentioned before, it is incredibly easy and affordable to get basic medical care in many parts of the developing world. Even with the language barrier, it took only a few minutes to explain my symptoms, convince the pharmacist that the typical medications were not helping, and pay the $3 for a course of amoxicillin. As expected, the sinus infection cleared within the week. Not sure why it took me 3-weeks to deal with it – stubbornness I suppose. Also, on one of our evening trips to the dessert cart, a local kid with a stroller erratically steered his baby sister’s stroller directly into my toe, likely breaking it. It turned a vibrant purple color and swelled like an over-stuffed snausage. Not cool kid. Lastly, although most of the locals were pleasant and friendly, the laundry guy was not. After dropping our clothes off with him, we began to question the “accuracy” of his handheld scale (which he purposely kept hidden when weighing the clothes). Tired of being ripped off, we decided to go back and confront him. We asked if he could please weight the clothes again, this time, while showing us the scale. Turns out that we were right, he had overcharged us significantly! He seemed a little sheepish, but did not apologize, simply changed the amount due and went about his day. We were lucky all the clothes came back.      

   

The highlight to our week in Mancora was definitely our wedding anniversary! Andy had booked a couple’s spa experience at one of the fancy places nearby… you know, the ones we can’t afford to stay at. It was ridiculous!!! The private spa was on the roof of the hotel, overlooking an expansive abandoned beach. After the steam room, we indulged in a 90-minute massage, followed by an hour to relax in the private jacuzzi while drinking complimentary champagne and watching the sun set over the ocean. It was definitely a surreal, pinch-me moment! After the spa, we walked about a mile down the beach to our dinner reservation – also at a fancy hotel that we couldn’t afford to stay at. The meal was also incredible: pineapple/cucumber/mint juice, pumpkin/parmesan/pecan ravioli, zucchini carpaccio, and Andean wheat! Fair to say it’s going to be hard to beat our first year of marriage!

Anniversary evening! Also, I finally captured the nasty long fingernail that we'd been seeing all over the world on men's pinky fingers... apparently it's a thing. It's in the bottom-right photo.

Anniversary spa experience!

Our artwork was washed away by a wave about 5 seconds after finishing.

After a week of shear bliss, we were hesitant to leave Mancora to re-enter the hustle of fast-paced travel. As consolation, our friend Matt was joining us for the next leg of the journey!       

Cartagena (round 2), Colombia – July 4th – 5th, 2017

Strangely, the public bus from Palomino went out of the way to drop us off at a private bus station outside of town. From there, we paid the inflated rate from Santa Marta back to Cartagena, because, well… it was a Monday and according to the bus office staff the rates are higher on Mondays and Tuesdays (obviously). The first thing we did after checking into our hotel in Cartagena, was go back to our favorite gelato place and indulge in the silky sweet goodness of ice cream! Then we took a salsa class, something we’ve been wanting to do since arriving in Colombia over 1 month earlier. It was so much fun and we had a good laugh over how terrible we are at dancing sexy. All three of us solidified the accuracy of the stereotype that white nerdy people have no dancing skills whatsoever. It was still a blast though! After salsa, we did some last minute souvenir shopping, ate a delicious meal of potato soup, and returned to the hotel to pack, shower, and sleep. With over 3-weeks without hot water, it was not surprisingly that we did not break our cold shower streak in Cartagena. You’d think you would get used to it, but you don’t, especially not in an air-conditioned room. Yup, riddle me that, AC, but no hot water.

Saying goodbye to Colombia. Mom's sad face is not intended to imitate Elvis... or Trump. 

After a pleasant breakfast at the hotel, we caught a taxi to the airport, checked in, and soaked up our last few minutes with Mom. Eventually, it was time to say “Hasta luego momacita!” It had been an incredible trip and even though there were some serious hiccups along the way, Colombia was of our favorite countries so far. We absolutely loved the scenery and genuine energetic people – we can’t wait to come back!        

Palomino, Colombia – July 2nd – 4th, 2017

After the hellish experience we had just endured, we were all ready for some downtime. In Palomino, a small touristy town on the coast, we sprung for a nice guesthouse in Palomino ($30/night for a triple room – big spenders!). Ironically, Chez Oliv (our guesthouse) was owned by a French ex-pat high-school teacher. He and my mom, also a French-born high-school teacher, enjoyed talking about the school system in Colombia (in French). While it was a relief for her to be able to speak and understand the language, it confused me. I understood the French, but kept accidentally responding in an awkward Spanish / French / English mashup: "Si. Oui. NO Si!? Ahhh sorry!"

Chez Oliv in Palomino. Still no hot water showers, but that's standard.

Although a tourist town has its downsides, the accessibility to comfort food and western hospitality more than makes up for it… especially after spending the last week sleeping in hammocks and eating strictly arepas, queso, and pasta without sauce (aka plain boiled noodles). In an outdoor restaurant with live acoustic music, we enjoyed pizza, lasagna (with sauce), and a veggie sandwich with a large side of brownie and ice cream! The next day, we chowed on banana pancakes, fresh fruit juice (the fruit in Colombia is unmatched by the way), and more pizza. Fair to say, we did not go hungry during our short stay.  

Food and lazy cats in Palomino. There was even a Vegan Burger bike vendor!

Apart from sleeping and lounging around at the guesthouse, we also walked the beach and went tubing down the nearby jungle clad river. To get to the river, we each hired a motor-taxi which transported us and the inner-tube to the drop off location. Quite obviously, the safest way to achieve this was to place both people in the inner-tube hole, that way if you fall off on the single-track dirt path through the jungle, you’ll fall together and have a nice donut around your torso to cushion the fall. The river float was a lot of fun, except for the fact that my tube seemed to have a magnetic attraction to the foliage, giving me plenty of opportunities to make friends with spiders and miscellaneous bugs. The river ended at the ocean, where we dropped the tubes off with the tube collecting child and walked back to Chez Oliv.

The views around Palomino. 

We got up early the next morning, had a traditional breakfast of arepas, eggs, and tinto (the “coffee” drank by locals that essentially consists of the reject beans that the rest of the world won’t import), and hopped on the first bus we found heading to Santa Marta. After stowing our luggage under the bus, we realized that it was not a tourist bus, but the local bus. Taking the local bus is really no big deal (it is, after all, very budget friendly), but the downside is that you are crammed in like sardines and worse than that, the bus literally stops every 3 feet to let someone on or drop someone off. In hindsight, it should have been obvious that it was a local bus based on the interior, which resembled a run-down school bus with handles for standing passengers. A second give-away could easily have been the deluxe charter buses that passed us on the road while we waited for the bus to fill up. The 50-mile journey ended up taking over two and a half hours. Oops. 

La Guajira, Colombia – June 29th – July 2nd, 2017

The plan was to head to Punto Gallinas, the northern-most tip of South America – the problem was that it’s not exactly well traveled and the route is essentially impossible to surmise from the discombobulated information available on the web. You basically just have to wing it and hope for the best. So, after a two-and-a-half-hour bus ride, which was pleasantly short since we were expecting four hours, we made it to Riohacha, a largish-city en-route. After turning down the hoard of taxi drivers vying for our business, we walked to our hostel and promptly peppered the receptionist with questions about how to get to Cabo de la Vela the next morning. Lucky for us, the owner of the hostel was a super friendly expat American and we did not have to strain our Spanish skills to get the answers that we needed. Now slightly more confident that we might actually make it to our destination, we walked to a Middle-Eastern place for dinner and chowed down on some falafel before showering and going to bed. Unfortunately, sleep was short lived since a truck with compensating Colombians with massive speakers parked right outside of the hostel (which, by the way, was on a residential street) and blared excessively loud music until after 3 in the morning. Not cool compensating Colombians, not cool.

Riohacha and lots and lots of hand-woven Mochila bags.

The next morning, we left a bag at the hostel and caught a colectivo to Uribia, about an hour away – less when you are traveling over 120 kph (75 mph) on a small one-lane road. The driver dropped us off in town with a driver heading to Cabo de la Vela. We thought we had lucked out when Hugo, our driver, told us we would leave within a half hour. We had heard horror stories about tourists waiting 4+ hours for the SUV to fill up with people. Oh wait, that did end up happening to us… 30 minutes turned into an hour, which turned into two, all confined to the overheating car parked in the hot desert – now we know how dogs feel locked up in a hot car. Unlike a dog, we were able to buy some impeccably timed popsicles from a passing street vendor, we even bought one for a kid who had been hanging out with us hoping for a handout. Eventually, two Wayuu tribal women joined us and we sped off at crazy, uncomfortable speeds through the arid desert-scape. The road to Cabo de la Vela was less of a road, and more of an internal compass setting toward the direction of the town, each driver just made up their own route. After an hour and a half (most of which was spent trying to stave off Hugo, who was trying to sell us transport to Punto Gallinas), we made it to the seaside town of Cabo de la Vela. Promptly after arriving, Hugo’s SUV broke down – not a shocker considering his driving style. With some coaxing, he was able to get it starting again and dropped us off at our “hotel” where the car died again.  

En-route to Cabo de la Vela, including our popsicle receiving friend in Uribia. The bottom two photos show our accommodations in Cabo.  

Apart from being a Wayuu tribal village, the town is known for wind, and where there’s wind and water… there’s kite surfing! Unfortunately, learning to kite surf is a costly and lengthy process so we didn’t get the opportunity to try it. Instead we took it easy at our hotel, walked the beach, got pelted with flying sand and rocks, and waited for Hugo, who was supposed to pick us up for a tour to the surrounding areas. Apparently, Hugo wasn’t able to get his car working, so we improvised and hired 3 moto-taxis through the hotel to take us to a viewpoint and nearby lighthouse. Luckily one of the drivers was not the drunk moto-taxi driver in the parking lot trying to sell us his services… we think that’s what he was trying to do anyway. Albeit windy, the views in the surrounding areas were astounding. The scenery really gives the impression that you are at the end of the world (or on an alien planet). After a pseudo sketchy 30-minute walk back to the hotel, we met up with our driver, Anyelo, who the hotel had arranged to take us to Punto Gallinas early the next morning. Although he was a bit standoffish, we went with it, since at that point, he was our only known option to drive us the last leg.

The views around Cabo de la Vela.

Unsurprisingly, Anyelo showed up 15 minutes late after he was adamant that we be on time for a 5am pickup. Even less surprisingly, we rushed into town, picked up one more passenger, and then waited over an hour while Anyelo chatted to his friends and ignored us completely. Sometime after 6am, with no notice whatsoever, Anyelo brutishly got in the car and drove off as if someone was chasing us. Unlike the moto-taxi ride to Minca, Anyelo’s driving was legitimately terrifying. His personality can easily be equated to a mix between Magilla Gorilla and Godzilla – essentially, he was a complete oaf who believed himself to be a rally car driver. Our hatred for him will become clearer after you hear about our return trip.     

          

Along the almost 3-hour journey, we made several stops, where we first thanked our lucky stars to still be alive, and second took pictures of the crazy, alien, desolate scenery. We also had to stop at least 50 times for the local children to remove ropes which were spanning the “road.” The ropes were intended as tolls to force drivers into giving them a bribe (mostly food or water). To Anyelo, they were an excuse to almost run over young impoverished children. He would accelerate, staring the children down, until the kid caved and lowered his or her rope. In one instance, the toddler was not fast enough, so Anyelo drove through the rope, breaking it, leaving the poor kid crying on the side of the road… nice guy, our driver.

En-route to Punta Gallinas.

To our relief, we finally arrived at the boat dock, where the only “hostel” at Punta Gallinas picked us up and transported us to our accommodation for the night. The accommodation was really just shelters jam-packed with hammocks and chinchorros (fancy hammocks). After a quick breakfast consisting of half a scrambled egg, an arepa, and a measly serving of con queso, we piled into the back of a Land Cruiser with 11 other tourists for a tour of the point (finally with a semi-sane driver). We stopped at the northernmost point itself, an inland lagoon with a beautiful view, and the dunes of Taro, which are sand dunes situated directly adjacent to the ocean. We had a blast running down the dunes into the water! The flying sand impaling our legs was less fun, so we spent most of the time in the water playing in the waves.

Accommodations at Punta Gallinas - the northern-most tip of South America!

After a basic lunch of rice and lentils, we rested for a few minutes, before jumping back into the boats with just two other tourists to go see the flamingos – yup, FLAMINGOS! After scaring the flock of flamingos (which doesn’t take much, they scare easily), the driver dropped us off on a peaceful beach to watch the sun go down. While walking the beach, we hit the sand-dollar jackpot! There were hundreds of intact sand dollars! We kept some of the best ones, but spoiler alert, they all were found crushed in our bags less than 24-hours later – turns out they are quite fragile. After a very long walk on the beach, we were only marginally worried when the boat did not return until significantly after sundown… the locals here seem to operate on their own schedule.

View at Punta Gallinas and FLAMINGOS!

More views and the in-tact sand dollar jackpot! 

Back at camp, we were looking forward to a shower to expel the sand that had found its way into every and all crevasses. Unfortunately, the water tanks had ran out, leaving only one operational shower which provided a trickle cold salty water… still better than nothing. Dinner was bleak and even more frustrating was the moment that we discovered that we had significantly over paid for the trip with our oaf of a driver, apparently it was not a set price as the hotel (and internet) would have us believe. Oh well, the alien-esque beauty was definitely worth the effort, even if we did suffer a sleepless night in fancy hammocks.

The next morning marked the single worst-event of the entire year – Anyelo, the oaf, showed up with three of his friends, raging drunk to pick us up. His lack of sobriety became painfully obvious when I opened the passenger door to find 15 empty beer bottles – this occurred at approximately the same time as Anyelo stumbled out of the car to collapse on a nearby bench. His friends found this hilarious… we did not. Having no other option but to be stranded at Punto Gallinas for another day (and not fully understanding the extent of his inebriation), we got in the Land Cruiser and hoped for the best. The best did not occur. Anyelo drove at over 120 kph (75 mph) through the road-less desert, often times allowing his tires to veer off the path into the thicker sand and only nearly avoiding a high-speed roll-over accident. After these near-death experiences, he would bend down and pretend that he had just been pre-occupied by the radio dials (smooth…), only for it to happen again a few minutes later. In addition to the crazy driving, his head kept bobbing asleep as he passed in and out of consciousness. At the mid-way point, he finally pulled over and passed out on a bench, while his friends partook in more drinking. The consequence to firing our drunk driver was to being stranded in the middle of nowhere… we were now ready to face that consequence and, united, decided to not get back in the car with him. We were bracing ourselves for a full-on Godzilla attack, when another driver pulled up for a short break. We explained to his tourist passengers what was going on and they came to our rescue, pleading with their driver to give us a ride. At first, the other driver refused, stating that it was a different company so he could not, but after observing the extent of Anyelo’s inebriation, he called his boss and they agreed to take us the rest of the way. To our surprise, Anyelo was not angry, but content that he could be rid of us and take a nap (or more than likely, continue drinking). To our delight, this driver did not drive like a deranged lunatic or make starving impoverished children cry. He instead stopped at each toll, gave them some fresh water, chatted to their parents, and continued on his way (how human of him).

Our near death experience at the hands of a drunk. Anyelo the troll is shown in the top-left photo, passed out on a bench. Also, my sand dollar perished... 

By the time we arrived back at the junction town of Uribia, our heart rates had almost returned to normal. It is surprising that someone like Anyelo is still alive, and even more surprising that that kind of behavior is tolerated at all (sadly, alcohol abuse is common among the tribal people of the area). Arriving in one-piece was shocking enough, but when the expat owner of our hostel in Riohacha randomly turned up and offered us a free ride back the last hour, we knew our luck had turned around. He drove calmly while we ranted about our dreadful experience… we were relieved to say the least. An hour later, we were back at the hostel. We retrieved our bags, booked a hotel for that night, did some souvenir shopping, and had a delightful lunch by the ocean, before boarding a comfortable bus (with terrible movies as entertainment) to Palomino.