At a Nazca bus staion I popped my smaller backpack down on the floor for a few seconds, turned around and... GONE. Rather gutting to say the least, as I had been very vigilant about such things up till that point. One tiny slip up and some dodgy Peruvian was there to capitalise. Needless to say I was rather upset for a day or two, losing a couple of almost-full journals, my Ipod and a few books, not to mention my camera and a couple of weeks of photos. Ah well. One to learn from I guess and roll on the insurance claim.
Let that smidgen of darkness not cast a shadow across my experiences though, for my week spent at The Way Inn, a gorgeous farmhouse-style lodge nestled right up close to the grand Cordillera Blanca mountain range became one pof the best experiences of my trip. It is a shame I cannot share the imagery (and there were some really fantastic photos, you´ll just have to believe me) except for one single picture that escaped via facebook, but I am already of the mindset that I shall return there one day.
This was taken on a really quite exhausting hike up to Laguna Churup, a gorgeous azure lake right at the foot of a glacier. It sits at around 4500m above sea level, about then highest I´ve ever been on land and was a real sight to behold. The landscape around the lodge is all about gigantic rock faces that hover either side of winding rivers, strewn with boulders and grasses. Snow-caped peaks seem within touching distance and dotted across they valleys below, small families of Andean famers work the dry land for all they can get. It was bright and sunny every day, with views across the valley to the mountains beyond and down below Huaraz was just a small twinkling of light in the dark of night.
It was probably one of the most beautiful places I have ever had the pleasure to spend time in, made all the more special was some amazing, inspiring people, delicous home-cooked food and beds composed of orthapedic matresses with proper down duvets and pillows. Sounds luxurious, but believe me you need it, it gets REALLY cold at night. I left feeling better than I have ever felt, very at peace with the world. Leaving took me from one extreme to the other however, as I was to find out.
Lima is big, foggy and loud. I walked around Miraflores, undertook some essential purchases (hair and beard trim and a new thermos - pretty rock n roll) and found a well stocked high-end supermarket called Vivenda that rather resembled a Whole Foods or a Waitrose. Walking back I got talking too long to a dodgy guy who said his name was Ricky. Long story short, he was a shady con man who tried to extort me but I gave him five soles (about a pound) and he left. Weird. Still, not exactly nice. Decided to leave Lima straight away the next morning to meet my friend Adrian who I met up at Los Cedros down the coast in a small town called Pisco. The one good thing about Lima though, the beautiful tranquil hostel run by a young Peruvian girl named Melissa, One Hostel. It was a great refuge from the chaos outside and just being there reminded just why I never feel comforable in such big cities. Give me green rolling hills and the English channel any day!
Pisco, a few hours south of Lima by the coast is rather a sorry-looking place. Famous for the drink that bears its name, it was mostly destroyed by a powerful earthquake in 2007. It is slowly recovering (not helped by evidence of millions of dollars of goverment aid mysteriously dissapearing) and there are piles of rubble, bricks and the ruined shells of buildings everywhere. Not exactly a tourist destinaton, except for the Ballestas Islands that lie a few km to the south, famous for the vast numbers of birds and sea lions that live there and cover the place with their guano(read: shit). It´s so thick in places all the rocks look white and fishermen have traditinally gathered it up for fertilizer. I did a boat ride to the Islands, and the rocks were so thick with birds blackness almost covers the white. They take to the air in their hundreds and the noise and sight is impressive. Some big daddy sea lions were lazing on the rocks amidst the avian chaos, oblivious. Again, shame there are no pics, but dust off that imagination and try to see.
Next: sandboarding down the bizarrely massive dunes of Huacachina, a woozy afternoon flight in a five-man Cessna over the famous lines (and one shitty robbery) in Nazca, and mixing a big fiesta with visits to the police station, a fascinating monastery and the worlds deepest canyon in and around Arequipa. Rollercoaster ride or what.
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