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Huaca Huanchaco

Monday, March 2nd, 2009

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The best part about traveling alone is getting to make all the decisions you want, when you want, how you want, and no friend, girl or person can slow down the decision making process. I don’t have to deal with any of my flakey friends (who I do love dearly) in SF, those unable to commit to wiping their ass after a shit because something better may come up at the last second. Case in point with Huanchaco Peru. I had left Chiclayo to stay in Trujillo and on the way into town I was so turned off but what I saw, I immediately figured out which collectivo would take me the 12 kilometers to another beach town I heard about…Huanchaco. I made an on the spot decision and nobody could even question me…I love it. I was off to a beach town where the fishermen still use the traditional reed boats from hundreds of years ago. Using my “trusty” Lonely Planet I actually scored in a big way. I found the most amazing hostel—Naylamp is the name of the hostel for you blog prowlers—and instantly made a great group of friends.

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Joost—a Dutch, Carlo—an Italian, Wilco—a German, and I just hit it off. We had others pass in an out of our group over that week+ but the collection of like minds between the four of us made for really good times. Now keep in mind our days were very, very, lazy. Essentially we drank, played hours upon hours of cards, loafed around the beach and went surfing a couple times. Hmm, is there a theme developing here? Lots of surfing and lots of beach time…at least I have had more of it than I expected. I more imagined high Andean adventures, but I know they are still in my future. Anyhow this hostel had a deck overlooking the Pacific where they would serve us food and Pisco Sours. For those who do not know what this means, It is arguable that the Pisco Sour is single handedly the best cocktail on the planet. Strong, refreshing on a hot day, warming on a cold day, and so very tasty…essentially it is guaranteed drunkenness in a glass. This bread an incredible laziness. Actually being served and not having to move meant we had found the club med of backpacking hostels. I can remember one day Carlo joking that he had accomplished all that was needed to feel good about himself…he had actually walked 5 blocks down the road to buy a new bathing suit. Certainly more than the rest of us accomplished that day.

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A couple times we lived large, left the hostel and went to a bar on the beach. We managed to actually pull the greatest beach tourist blunder. Drinking ourselves into a stupor by a hearty 1PM we passed out on the sand lined up like beached gringos…wait we were. Not really thinking logically, we had unknowingly passed out well below the high-tide line. Sure enough a wave came, and violently soaked all of us and ruined the cigarettes, books, and the towels we had stolen form the hostel. We must have been a good laugh because after I realized what had happened, I next realized the entire beach had been diligently waiting and watching for the inevitable. Every person within 30yds was rolling hysterically on the sand and pointing at us.

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One day determined to tackle our drinking habit head-on we went out for a little cultural enlightenment. We went to visit the Huaca de la Luna and the Huaca del Sol. Essentially what had been an enormous sand dune for all of modern Peruvian history, turned out to be a buried temple. In 1993 somehow the secret surfaced and very aggressive excavations have been going on ever since. Sadly this is yet another site the Spaniards had plundered so there is considerable damage and very little treasure left; however, being buried in over 100 meters of sand for 500 years left what was left very well preserved. So well preserved much of the paint was still vibrant even though older than my country…just crazy. Well this is the end of the coastal adventure for now…off to the mountains and then the Amazon.

Chirp bundle up Chirp

Chiclayo, Sipan, Lambayeque, and Tucume

Sunday, February 22nd, 2009

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Usually I try to come up with a marginally or pitifully witty title for each posting but I simply love the actual names of the places I had visited on this turn, so I left them as is for the entry header.

After my time in Mancora I took another unsuccessful overnight bus to Chiclayo. Unsuccessful because even with a sleeping pill I barely slept and for the first time ever the damn thing arrived EARLY. It is not fun being all alone in a dicey bus station at 4AM. Now it may not have been dicey, but anywhere alone in a foreign country at 4AM feels a bit scary. After a taxi that tried to rip me off, I finally found a room and feel asleep for a few hours.

There was only one reason for me to come to this stark ugly town, and they were the sites I wanted to see. Chichlayo really has very little to offer the tourist. The city was scorching hot, the sun really hurt the flesh, and it simply is ugly. I realize the town has economic importance to Peru but its only—and very impressive at that—redeeming features are the surrounding historical sites. The sites are all a part of the ancient Moche culture that well preceded the Inca and lasted for much longer than the Inca. Most associate the Inca as being the most glamorous ancient culture of Peru, and it is a point hotly debated here in this country. Now the Inca were the most powerful culture in existence when the Spaniards came and started sacking the entire continent, and left behind the most indelible image—Machu Picchu; but they only had power for 150 years. However, because of the Inca’s lasting architecture and encounter with Westerners they are now the cultural image of Peru’s past.

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Obviously I am setting you up for the fact that in ways I found what the Moche accomplished as equally impressive as the legacy of the Inca. Before I get into the tour, I did complete my first day wandering around Chiclayo to randomly run into my friend Thierry again. It was a nice treat because I had assumed the entire time in Chiclayo would be a solo adventure, as the city did not draw many backpackers. Thierry had been working his charm on a local Peruvian girl and had found himself stuck for a couple weeks. The side benefit of this was that I was able to go out with the two of them and all her friends. It’s always cool to get locals to take you around their city. Either way they couldn’t change my mind…I think their town kinda sucks. Thierry and I did manage to visit one of the best markets I had come across thus far. There was one part in specific that had a Brujo’s (witch doctor’s) section. One could find all sorts of dead animals, hallucinogenic plants, powders, tobacco mixtures, and god knows what else. The market was highly chaotic and left me taking what I call the “snap and run.” Essentially this “snap and run” is when I see a photo I want but I am scared for the safety of my camera and myself. I stand still until there is an acceptable break in the human traffic, quickly take out my hulking DSLR snap a picture, stuff it back in the bag and basically run before any opportunistic thief can plan an ambush. So far so good, but I am waiting for the day when someone makes a leap for my camera. Anyhow, the market had a dizzying array of seafood, produce, grains, spices and even a huge section of blacksmiths. All in all it was a visual and olfactory orgy that was not always so pleasant. I even found a man who was selling the service of his trusty monkey. For $0.15 you could have monkey deftly work a scale so you could know your weight…don’t ask me, but it’s real.

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So back to the tours. I was able to see the tomb of The Lord of Sipan and the museums housing his treasures. This amazingly has been the richest discovery in the new world, and I believe the entire world outside of King Tutankhamun. The museum at Lambayeque sadly does not allow photos but it houses a dizzying display of gemstones, gold, silver, copper, seashells and textiles. All of this was even more impressive when one considers that what we saw was only what the huaqueros—grave robbers—had not yet stolen. There was a small side exhibit allowing photos and here you can see one of the gold masks that would have been one of a string of five composing a stately necklace. I really cannot give the museum justice but it ranks as the best museum display I have seen to date. Yes there are much larger exhibits I have seen in my life, but nothing matches the sheer beauty and amount of objects taken out of one single location.

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Tucume was the last stop on my tour and was the remnants of an adobe city. All the structures after a thousand years of weather now look like mounds of dirt, but the immensity of the location is what makes it impressive. The only way to appreciate the scope of their accomplishment is to climb a nearby mountain and scan the horizon. Here is one tiny sliver of their old city behind me, but to help with perspective it took almost a dozen side-by-side photos to capture the entire image.

I am off to the Spanish colonial town of Trujillo and another beach town.

Chirp a touch more cultured chirp

Heading To The Homeland

Friday, February 20th, 2009

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Saying farewell to Cuenca was a actually not as hard as I thought. I have a very hard time staying still for very long periods of time. Yes admittedly I move much slower than most backpackers, but two weeks in one place was just too much. My life has been such a whirlwind of stimulation that even a foreign city was becoming dull. Let us not forget to mention the fact that I was heading back to the beach for a bit more sun, girls, and surfing. I was also excited to finally be making it to Peru and much closer to my family in Lima.

The journey to Mancora was an interesting one. Hearing that the border crossing at the costal intersect of Ecuador and Peru was the most dangerous in South America my friend Elle and I decided that going for it in the middle of the night was best. This strategy may seem counterintuitive, but the reality—as we heard from others—is that the thieves are taking advantage of the tourists that arrive in droves during daylight hours. Therefore this produced a rare breed of thief…the nine to fiver. A quick summation was that everything worked smoothly and we were not robbed between the two border crossings (8KM of the hinter land in which you are not legally on any foreign soil). This likely only worked out because a very kind Chilean saw how hopeless we were and took us under his wing making sure that we found the right border protection service. No joke, this border is so bad they have a service to help foreigners get across without being robbed or forced into bribes. This also proved to be a slap in my face reminding me that my Spanish, while much better, is really not that good.

The entire trip I had high hopes for Mancora. I had heard for years about this ideal beach town in the north of Peru with great waves and beautiful girls. The reality was a hot very dusty beach town that did little to hold my interest. The Pan American runs through the center of town sending dirt and dust in every direction and the locals are simply rude. This has been the town that I most felt like a walking ATM machine thus far.

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Fortunately I found a great crew in a great hostel and we practiced our synchronized swimming and drank each night in the swimming pool until about 5AM. Typical of the trip so far we were an Irish, Swede, Canadian, South African, Brit, Peruvian, the two obligatory Aussies, and myself. I’ll tell you that considering how few Aussies there are in the world they represent very well on the backpacking circuit.

Next up, more ancient dead people and cultures.

Chirp…I’m very dark now