We got here safe and sound and without any glitches. I managed to resist my urge to lie to the customs officer in Atlanta during the stop over. I always feel instantly guilty of crimes I have only ever dreamt of committing when talking to airport security, especially when entering the States. He asked me twice what job I do back home and I had an overwhelming urge to say “I’m a Doctor”. It was just resting on the tip of my tongue begging to be released, but I restrained myself. I told him I was a Town Planner, which technically is a lie as I am now officially unemployed. Just even saying that small untruth and getting away with it gave me a bit of a buzz. Niamh: 1, America: 0! Whuu huu!
We’ve been to three different places in Peru so far, Lima, Nasca and now Ariquipa (just place names to you). We got an 8 hour bus journey from Lima to Nasca. The route is notorious for hijacking and we’ve heard stories about tourists being stripped of all their clothes and left in the middle of nowhere by South American baddies. I made sure I had matching underwear on that day. If I’m going to end up in some police station filling out a report in my pants I want to make sure I’m at least looking semi respectable.
The bus was surprisingly good as was the road. Money has been poured into both in recent years, I guess to entice hesitant backpackers following bad press over the hijackers. We were shown a video on board, which unashamedly boasted about the extensive comforts of the bus, talk about bigging yourself up. The video showed an attractive lady working for the bus company actually going around and tucking the overnight passengers in, wrapping a nice fluffy blanket over them as she smiled sexily at them and then at the camera. In reality, this might happen just before some rebel with a machete gets on and orders everyone to hand over their valuables, clothes and the fluffy blanket. The tucking in seems little compensation then I bet. The video went on to brag about the fabulous toilet on board. However, it was heavily emphasised that it was to be used for “urination purposes only”. This was repeated a couple of times, the second time in a more stern voice “I repeat urination purposes only”. If passengers needed to do anything other than urinate, they had to alert the driver at the earliest possibility so he could stop the bus. That wouldn’t be at all embarrassing, no.
We drove through the desert and passed by some amazing landscape before we arrived at our destination, Nasca, a spit and sawdust town in the middle of nowhere but with a simple charm. The next day from there we got a small 6 seater plane over the Nasca lines, which are drawings and lines etched into the desert terrain by ancient Incas for unknown reasons (read my theory on the lines also on this blog). It was very cool but the plane kept being turned on its side so we could get a better look at the images. It was impossible not to feel sick, the guy sitting in front of me puked into a bag. I was down wind of this, which was a treat. He apologised and I said it was okay, but I didn’t mean it and if I had a hit list, he would now be on it.
We had a very challenging day earlier this week (I have no idea what day it is anymore). We got up at 4am to be driven 40 minutes into the desert in order to climb the highest sand dune in the world (how this is decided upon I have no clue, but after climbing it I believe it!), we were then going to surf down it. They tend to let you do anything here without warning of whether it’s hard or dangerous, as long as you pay for it you can do whatever you want. I plan to test this theory out at some stage perhaps by attempting to preform surgery on someone. They told us the trek would be two and a half hours; it took us seven and a half, in the desert, in belting heat, on sand, whilst carrying day packs and a surfboard each. We were lead by our guide Juan Carlo who looked 12 and had terrible English. I asked him how long the trek would take (in English); he looked at me with a horrified expression and said “no”. I placed all my trust in him, good one.
We climbed rocky terrain at first, practically clambering up on our hands and knees. Naomi got scratched by a cactus “hopefully hallucigenic” she said, but unfortunately not. Cut to an hour and some coco leaves later, it was really tough and the leaves weren’t helping. Julie was struggling and kept having to stop and said things like “my body is shit, I’m dying”. In contrast, Naomi was like a mountain goat almost skipping over the rocky landscape, no problem to her. Also, throughout the day Julie and I got through two and a half litres of water each, Naomi just had a few sips of the tiny bottle she brought. Part mountain goat, part camel, I hate her.
The terrain finally changed from rock to sand and eventually (after hours) we made it to a smallish dune, which we were meant to practice surfing on and then walk back up. Me and Naomi weren’t up for the walking back up it part and told our guide, “screw this, lets just go straight to the big dune”. The big one was massive, 2000 metres in height and only slightly less inclined than a free fall. We did a few “It’s been nice knowing you” to each other when were at the summit and looking at what we had to surf down. Juan Carlo took off at speed and went tumbling down it head first, no idea what he was doing, his surfing was almost as impressive as his English. I started off on my ass, creating a massive sand avalanche behind me that chased me a quarter of the way down the dune and filled up my knickers with so much sand that my trousers started falling down. A couple of times I managed to get up on the board for a few seconds before falling on my arse at high speed. I have two perfectly symetrical bruises on both cheeks and I am proud of them, bruising not caused by drunken activities for a change.
Julie lagged exhausted far far behind and became nothing more than a speck on the horizon. She said after that she is never doing anything again that the guide book calls the “highest, longest or deepest in the world” of things. It says that about practically everything! Ha ha. As tough as it was the scenery was amazing and although Julie and I were aching after it (Naomi, the half mountain goat, half camel was fine of course) it was a cool thing to have done and a satisfying challenge (although Julie would disagree). We got back to the hostel and fell asleep and I dreamt of climbing over never ending sand dunes. One of them had Naomi sliding down it, panic etched on her face, with her hand out trying to reach me screaming “I’m engaged, help”. I’m sure this tells me something!
Photo of big dune below, the avalance I created can be seen if you look closely.
Quote of the week:
Naomi standing on the largest sand dune in the world, in the desert after hiking hours to get to it and she says whilst emptying sand out of her shoe....... “There is fucking sand everywhere“
