The other half – Partying in Peru

Guard's station at Asia BeachWhen you travel you try and do everything on a budget. It’s expensive, after all, to stay in a hotel every night, eat out all the time, and pay for buses and flights. But for the past few days I was invited to the beach house of the family I know in Lima (names preserved for a spot of privacy!). They have a beautiful house they’ve just had built at a resort about 100km from Lima. It’s that far away in order to make it difficult for trouble to turn up, and it’s also very heavily secured so that people can relax without worrying about crime. Most houses in Limas are like living in a bank – their windows barred and with secure doors everywhere. At the resort you can leave your pushbike outside without locking it, the doors to houses are often unlocked and open… it just feels very safe after the cities.

But of course, after a while you realise there’s not a lot to do other than relax. I took my walks to a boulevard about five dusty kilometres away along a dirt road. I like a little exercise now and then. At the boulevard you had shops full of European and American goods, free internet, and again lots of security and it still felt very safe. It was nice to be able to leave my mobile phone out without worrying about it being snatched, for example.

The nightlife there only existed at the weekends and it was fascinating to see the difference between this place and a typical Peruvian city. It felt like I’d been transported to Barcelona! The hours are similar (ie, it gets going around midnight) and the bars and clubs similar. And the people too – because it’s mostly the wealthy and elite it favours people with more money and spare time and in Peru that’s usually (but not always) people of European or Latino descent rather than indiginous indians who anyway have their own culture and nightlife. So suddenly both the men and women are taller and slimmer and better looking to my European biased eyes. Not representative of Peru, but representative of a fair chunk.

Moving on, alone…

But now I’m looking forward to some more exploring. First I go to Tacna, hopefully today, and then on to Arica in Chile before doing some national park exploring. The current plan is Lauca National Park, Atacama, Santiago and Chiloe.

Donkeys and Condors

Condors are scavengers – that means they only eat meat of animals that have died and died recently…. Now, in the Colca Valley the condor watching is a huge draw, although in reality the spectacular scenery should be enough for most.

So, to keep the tourists coming and to keep them happy it helps if as many condors are flying in the appropriate places. And usually wildlife isn’t nearly so helpful. Well I’ve learned that the locals have a system to keep the condors interested. They buy a donkey every few days, for just 30 soles (about five pounds) and then chuck it over the edge of the canyon, near the usual condor watching areas. This regular supply of meat keeps the condors happy, and the condors keep the tourists happy. Suddenly I don’t feel quite as priviledged to have watched these majestic birds… but I can understand the thinking of the locals too.

Gin Tonic in Lima Central

It was Douglas Adams that suggested that wherever you are in the universe, asking for something that sounds like “Gin and Tonic” will usually give you the same drink. Of course I’ve only been able to test this theory on Earth, but so far it had proven unbreakable. So in a non touristy town in Taiwan a “shintoniic” sound gave me a drink made from gin… and tonic. But if it can be broken, the Peruvians can break it….

Last night our request for two “GeenToneecs”, as listed on the menu, provoked an explosion of confusion with the staff at “Ellens House”, a bar round the corner from our hotel. After a few minutes two large glasses, with about 250ml of vodka arrived.

We pointed out the problem… that a G&T usually has gin in it. And tonic. The glasses were taken away, four bar staff held a conference, and they returned with… two glasses of vodka with a dash of sparkling mineral water. I took a gulp and my taste buds immediately caught fire. Another return… this prompted more confusion and they came back to say they were just nipping to the shops for a bottle of “agua tonica”. Ok… they were getting the idea. And then we got what I still think was vodka, with a dash of sparkling mineral water… and a dash of tonic. We gave up. Angelique had also failed to drink her “Baylez”… a cheap and eye watering version of Baileys.

Peruvian service is often like this. They do their best, bless ’em, but sometimes they’re caught out by their own menus. They then utilise a Just In Time system, as popularised in Japanese factories. This means having stock arrive just in time for manufacture – so saving on inventory costs and storage space. But for restaurants that just means that your entrée may well arrive after your main course because some of the ingredients involved sending a member of staff to the market with a shopping list in his hand. Still, the food at these restaurants is often surprisingly tasty – just don’t arrive hungry….

Peruvian Food

Peruvian food can be quite easily categorised into the following sections:

Salty and meaty.
Egg based.
Dangerous.
Salty and fishy.
Scary.
Salty and vegetarian.
Touristic.

Cuy - otherwise known as guinea pig.  That's not me eating it by the way....Lomo Saltado is one of the classic dishes – fried and salted beef, served in a big pile with gravy, vegetables and chips – all mixed together. There may be some salad on the side.
Dangerous food can be summed up as pretty much anything raw.
Scary is roasted guinea pig – poor little thing has it’s claws on show still and it just looks wrong. Heart kebabs are also a bit offputting.
Touristic is largely edible, but expensive. It revolves mostly around pizza and pasta, but it’s not bad.

Fried maize - handy wee snackThere´s a surprising number of vegetarian restaurants and they vary in quality. There’s a chain called Govinda run by Hare Krishnas and although the food is ok (and salty) the service was slow and the atmosphere utterly non existent. We’ve resisted trying another branch. Other vegetarian restaurants, especially in Cusco, can be excellent.

Breakfasts are a barely understood concept. A fried egg, a couple of rolls of bread and some jam, along with juice and tea or coffee and that’s about it. Sometimes you need more to set you up for the day.

Machu Picchu

The first view of Machi PicchuThis place is the jewel in the South American tourist crown. An abandoned town at the top of a mountain that never got destroyed by the colonials – partly it seems because it just wasn’t all that important and a lot because of its rather inaccesible location.

Vertiginous drops are normal in this part of the worldI won’t bore on about the history of this place, but instead I’ll say that it’s one of the most beautiful locations in the world. Vertiginous too – if you’re not keen on heights you won’t want to get too near the edges of the town. It gets worse if, like us, you decide to climb Huanay Picchu (I think that’s the name, I’m not checking notes right now) which is the peak you always see in front of Macchu Picchu in the pictures. For this you have to take a quite frankly dangerous path (especially if it´s been raining) up the side of a very steep mountain. Quite often all you can see is a one mile drop to the bottom of the valley. I clung on and did my best in spite of my well known fear of heights. In the end though I saw an alarming enough section to refuse to move any further and simply sat down and waited.

Where's the roof gone?! Macchu Picchu buildingBut even where we reached was well worth the effort. I´m soon going to be able to upload pictures to the gallery as I should have more time. First though I’m off to the Crovetto’s beach house for a few days of relaxation after the rest of the troupe disappear. Fiona and Renaud have already got back to Paris, with Soren and Kitt off to Denmark tonight and Angelique, Francois and Romana all flying out tomorrow. So the rest of my travels will be solo :o( The upside I suppose is that I´ll be able to insist on a vegetarian restaurant every night so nutrition might improve a little ;o)

I probably won´t be able to post again until next week… so don´t be too alarmed if it goes quiet!

I’ll say one more thing though – although I’ve thoroughly enjoyed this trip so far a little part of me is missing the home comforts – familiar food, no hawkers constantly trying to sell me things (I reached the point of muttering in English to one kid “Do I look like the kind of f*cking person who wants to buy a doll?” He didn’t understand.)

Safety when travelling

A lot of travellers worry about being robbed, kidnapped, raped, or jailed for trumped up drugs charges.

Cusquena in Cusco!But they get on a knackered bus, driven by a coca leaf chewing driver for 12hrs at a stretch, along the most dangerous roads in the world, without a second thought. I´m pretty certain more travellers die in road accidents than any other way out here. Our driver for Chiway (Chivay) from Arequipa was, I´m sure, Fangio´s long lost and suspiciously young twin brother. But we got home quicker than anyone else so there´s always an upside.

In a week I´ll be saying goodbye to the rest of the group and striking out alone. Can´t say I´m looking forward to that moment, but it´ll also be nice to set my own pace and explore some more awkward places. Or just lounge for a week or two at a beach resort in Chile I´ve heard of. We’ll see….

Cusco by nightTomorrow is another day of Cusco – quite the most beautiful town I´ve seen. Full of a mix of colonial and Inca architecture, though the colonials pretty much finished off the Incan work. The day after is Macchu Pichu, or Machu Picchu – I can never remember the right spelling. It´s famously amazing, and we hoped to trek to it but the bad weather we´ve experienced here has, at times, turned the streets into rivers. Not good up a mountain so we´ll wimp out and take the train.

The Incan stonework is something to admire – close fitting stones, without cement, lock together and have survived many earthquakes. The foundations of many colonial buildings are Incan and you can still see the fine work. You literally can´t slide a cigarette paper between the stones. How they did it so well is a bit of a mystery. It´s a shame that the Conquistadors destroyed the indiginous culture so thoroughly. Had they not been quite so obsessed by shiny things Europe´s effect on South America would still be dramatic – we brought with us diseases as well as war, and this combination elicited one of the great holocausts in history, killing perhaps up to 90% of the native people according to some sources. But whichever way you look at it, we weren´t a positive factor here.

On top of t’world!

This is a complete re-write of the original, hurried, posting which failed to cover any detail about the Colca Canyon or Arequipa… or anywhere much that had passed between postings. I hadn’t realised I’d been so scarce with information.

Arriving High at Arequipa

We took what could only be described as a mobile sauna masquerading as a long-distance bus. We travelled from Nazca to Arequipa like this – sweltering on a bus that had very late. So after a long night of this ten hour ride along bumpy, twisty roads, we arrived at our first high altitude destination – the city of Arequipa.

Arequipa's Plaza de ArmasPisco sour and a cigarette - Romana's favouritesIt’s a classic, colonial city, and after Pisco and Paracas, and a lot of Lima’s less smart districts it came across as a clean and vibrant city. There are parts which are dangerous but as was the case on all of this journey – we never saw anything especially worrying to people who live in cities like Liverpool and Paris. Sadly the sky was quite cloudy so we never got a good view of the massive volcanoes like Misti and Chachani. This was a shame as they provide a stunning backdrop.

Santa Catalina MonasteryPond at Santa Catalina MonasteryOne of the highlights of Arequipa has to be the Monastario de Santa Catalina de Siena – actually a nunnery, it occupies a whole block of the city centre and was closed to outsiders for 400 years. Inside the architecture reminds you of cities in the south of Spain – colourful, fresh and simple. You can spend a happy afternoon exploring all the rooms, kitchens and chapels – seeing how life was lived here by the nuns for hundreds of years. A small number of nuns (around 20-30 it would seem) still live within the walls, but hidden away from the tourists.

The Colca Canyon and Condor Watching

Indian girl in the Andes and traditional dressFrom here we travelled to Chiway (Chivay) to see the Colca Canyon. This journey, although easier today than ever, is still rather gruelling – taking hours, half of it on unsealed roads and crossing a mountain pass at 4900mt. You soon start to feel the altitude and some members of the group suffered a little – Kitt in particular becoming ill enough to warrant a visit to the hospital. Once at Chiway you feel like you’ve arrived at a frontier town – the roads are mostly dirt, there are just a few cars and horses around, and the men and women look rugged.

Dave drinking mate de cocaLlamas and vicuna high on the AltiplanoAt one point on the route we stopped at a café for some mate de coca (coca tea) and a break from the bus. Here a few kids were hanging around outside. I went to take a picture of one sweet girl (pictured above) and she promptly held her hand out and demanded “un sol!” I guess the money’s handy, though I hope that to earn this the children aren’t missing out on schooling.

Alfalfa traders in Chiway (Chivay)Because of the tourist traffic through Chiway, we found that the food and facilities weren’t so bad for somewhere so remote. Ok, our showers were… shall we say rustic, but the rooms were clean and adequate and service friendly. The mobile phone didn’t work, but there were two internet cafés for those who’d like to recreate what the internet was like before broadband came along – the connection was sloooow. But it did work so I was happily in touch.

In the evening we ate pizza and danced away with a local group. I’ve got vivid memories of being grabbed by one of the local girls for the traditional dance and I could tell I had little chance of refusing. As I put my hand on her waist I realised that she was pure muscle. They build girls for strength up in the mountains. One of the dances they did was slightly bizarre, however, and appeared to revolve around domestic violence. Couldn’t quite follow that one.
Drank lots of pisco sour too. Hmmmmm….

The next morning we were dragged out at some ungodly hour. I’m not quite sure what time now, perhaps 5:30am, in order to wind our way up the Colca Canyon towards the spot where we hoped to watch condors soaring.

Dancing children found along the colca canyonAnd lo – it was good. A little touristy – all the villages which mostly are sleepy and restful wake up for the visitors, putting on traditional dances and the like in order to raise precious pennies which help educate the kids and restore churches. I actually feel that compared to similar towns in Chile they’re not doing quite so well here. There are plenty of tourists, but not a huge economy generated by them so far as I can see. But they’re definitely doing better than they otherwise might….

As time passed we eventually arrived at the point where we might see some condors. And… nothing… it wasn’t the season. Most would be at the Islas Balestas, it seemed, feeding on the placentas of newly born seals. Damn… we’d just been there! Didn’t see condors or placentas though.

Disheartened we started to amble a little, look at the tourist tat, and consider heading back to the bus when we heard an “ooooh” from other tourists. As one, hundreds of tourists headed straight to the main groups and looked out. And there she was… one solitary condor! Then another… and another! As we stood at the top of the terrifying canyon (the deepest in the world) we watched as the condors arrived. They Condor!really are magnificent birds to watch as they soar effortlessly between the walls of the canyon in search of carrion. And they’re huge… so when they pass closely you get a sense of their grace… and ugliness. Man! When you get close they’re ugly… but from more than about 100ft they’re beautiful. Like some girls I’ve met, I suppose.

After another day in Arequipa our next stop would be Puno and Lake Titicaca – the highest navigable lake in the world.

Sand surfing in Huacachina

Would have liked to, but the thought of falling in sand and filling every nook and cranny of my body with sand just didn´t appeal!

So instead we climbed up to the top of the biggest dune we could see, watched the sunset, and then ran down using these comedy strides of about six feet. And got sand filling every nook and cranny of my body. Ah well.

The oasis at Huacachina is a lovely spot… but somehow felt a little sad. It was hard to put a finger on it – the rubbish at the bottom of the sand dune we climbed, perhaps, or the absolute lack of life around the oasis itself in the evening. The place we stayed had a nice vibe and the best chips I found in South America, but the rooms were the dirtiest and most bug infested of the trip. I never realised how much a tiny ant could bite until I disturbed some. This prompted my usual, rational response to bugs that bite me… KILL! KILL! KILL! Yes – my usual pacifist response disappears after I experience pain.

It´s weird coming from Europe. I thought parts of spain looked like a desert, but in comparison…. it´s nothing. In Paracas it rains 1.5mm a year. In the desert we´re in now it´s something like once every decade.

Anyway, for now it´s time for beer… tara!

The road to Paracas

And now we find ourselves in Paracas – a four hour bus ride from Lima. It’s a tiny fishing village with a lot of restaurants good naturedly touting for business on the promenade, a small beach, a few hostels and a feeling of chaotic charm. It’s clearly poor as hell, but everyone seems happy too.

This internet shop appears to be run by a fat woman who eats a lot of burgeresque sandwiches and her eight year old son who wields a notepad with impressive precision.

Jon and Kath – you want to know about the wimmin?

Short and stout, mostly! Seems like the latino lovelies that everyone expect are mostly to be found elsewhere – european settlement of Peru was limited, unlike some other parts. Of course, within the group I’m travelling with the girls are all lovely, but to say any more would be indiscreet :o)

Oh – something I’d like to say… there’s less litter on the streets in this third world country than most towns in the UK, France or Spain. Kinda depressing in a way.

Tomorrow it’s the Islas Ballestas, a nature reserve, by boat before packing up and moving on to Ica. Or Nazca. I’m not entirely sure – six out of eight of the group speak fluent French, and the consequence is that I miss stuff. But going with the flow’s good. I’m chilling.

Del Carajo

At the end of the night a few of us were still ready to party. The reception went from 2pm to 11pm and to be honest… that’s not enough when you have the wind in your sails. Myself and Romana had wondered off from the group to investigate another party in the military base that sounded fun, but like our own, without tickets you weren’t getting anywhere close. Society do’s are like that in Peru.

Carlos, Geraldine’s brother said he’d meet us at Del Carajo. Of course he was steaming by this point, but seemed keen. We didn’t realise he was also meeting another bunch at a restaurant elsewhere, and no doubt another group at a third venue. He didn’t show up at any – I don’t think his wife was having any of it!

And one of those optimistic taxis later we found ourselves in the middle of an obviously poor district – a nearby bar pounding out the music, armed guards, and dire warnings from the taxi driver not to go wandering around looking for taxis – which given we were still in wedding gear was sound advice in most locations. At 25soles each to get in it was damn pricey by Peruvian standards.

What we didn’t reckon on was the ritualised humiliation that was going to happen. We expected a bar – we got a big show. Part of which involved all tourists being asked to step forward. And made to dance. Realising this, Romana – who holds no truck with peer pressure – walked away from the stage and sat back down. I was alone. But I was going through with this…. My turn came up… And I danced like a white man. To rap music, for some reason, which as far as i could tell was taking the mick but in a relatively nice way. I hoped. But I was going to go along with it.

But Romana wasn’t getting off lightly – as I sat down I spotted her being dragged up to the front. Frankly I think the Peruvians were surprised that a Polish girl could do a better job of salsa and hip thrusting than the Brazilian that had been before. We didn’t need to buy any more beer after that and suddenly had a lot of new friends.