NAZCA TO LIMA
21.11.09
Sadly all good things come to an end. Even a buffet breakfast was not enough to make me rise out of our lovely Nazca hotel bed with much enthusiasm and set out across the desert on our bikes.
In an effort to beat the heat, we were out the door early. I took one big breath of fresh air and despite the tired legs, I was feeling great. God bless oxygen!! We were rolling at a good pace and soon left behind all the comforts of civilisation to once again be alone on the road. The desert was as desolate as you can get. Not a blade of grass, not a sign of life.
It occurred to us that we were about to embark on a different cycling experience. Up until now, our motivation to cycle tour has been as much about experiencing the places in-between, as it has been about getting to the destination. Some of our best and most memorable moments have been alone on the road often somewhere “in-between”.
With an uninspiring landscape passing by bar a couple of crazy lines in the dirt, it resembled a dry Arabic desert. We were now focused on destination and the destination only: Ica, Pisco, Cerro Azul and Lima were in the forefront of our minds as the bitumen rolled under our feet.
For the most part, we completed our 80km days by lunchtime, giving us the afternoon to relax and explore the coast a little more.
Ica had the Museo Regional de Ica, which we visited in one afternoon before heading off to Huaccachina (“Waca-cheena”) - a very bizarre small town, nestled amongst the gigantic sand dunes and surrounding an oasis. The dunes were massive, pure and clean and had ‘fun’ written all over them. But sadly we arrived on dusk, too late to fit in a quick sand boarding session.
The town itself had a Saudi Arabian feel to it. Amongst the massive sand dunes, there was not a scrap of vegetation and at the bottom was bunch of palm trees and a lagoon with paddle boats. As we watched the sunset the colours changed over a cool Pisco Sour. You could just imagine an Arab and a camel setting off into the sand dune horizon. It was a very pleasant moment of contemplation in the midst of our travels.
On more than one occasion we have heard the phrase, ‘the Peruvians will steal your socks off you whilst you are still wearing your shoes’. And the following morning whilst eating breakfast we witnessed a prime example of this. Our hotel was located next to a local Christian centre and a major roundabout intersection on the Pan Americana Highway, giving us view out to the hustle and bustle. A semi trailer had taken the corner a little too quickly and lost his carelessly secured load of beer. What appeared to be two thirds of the crates had slide off the side and back of the truck, closing the road to south bound traffic, adding to the existing chaos of the interstate road.
What we saw next, at peak hour in the morning, was the biggest looting operation we have ever seen bar television coverage of a natural disaster. Rather than good civilians rushing to help clean up the road and help return traffic to its norm, we saw dozens of workers, mothers with children, rickshaw drivers, fellow truckers and the staff of the nearby supermarket liquor store scoop up as many crates as possible and bolt before the police arrived. Amusingly, we even saw the good missionaries from the neighbouring Christian Centre roll a trolley over, load it and quickly hide their stash, clearly forgetting the eighth commandment, ’thou shall not steal’. The driver stood by watching his load dissipate before his eyes. He was completely helpless until the police arrived. I wonder if there was anything left for them to take or to protect – I’m not sure which!
160km further north along the Pan Americana we rode into Pisco. Pisco is famous for its Pisco Brandy made from white Muscat grapes and the main ingredient of a Pisco Sour. It was created by the Peruvians but unfortunately we are told it is best marketed to the world by the Chileans. Pisco-Paracas is also the well known base for seeing the abundant wildlife of the Isla Ballestas where layers of sunbaked nitrogen rich guano (seabird droppings) are harvested as fertilizer. Despite having previously been warned about the smelly and plentiful guano, we were very much looking forward to sitting back sipping on a Pisco Sour and gorging on seafood in this romantic little maritime town. We had images of palm trees, maritime jetties and fishing boats, with the occasional beach recliner. Well, what a shock we got when we arrived!
Pisco seemed to continue our perception of an Arabian themed country; arid, war-torn and rough. Buildings were half blown apart, facade-less and severely crumbling. Shrapnel of stones were piled on the streets, kerbs and paving were turned up. There were completely bulldozed blocks, with some lucky surviving developments on either side, many with massive holes in their party walls.
What a mess this town was in. What had happened here? Had there been a guano war? We had heard of the large bird droppings but we didn’t think the guano bombing could be so severe!!! (And the Guano War finished over a hundred years ago in 1865-66.)
To visit the Islands Ballestas and Pennisula of Paracas, it is necessary to book a boat tour. Job completed, we rose the following morning and headed out to the lslands, also known as the ‘poor man’s Galapagos’. We spent an hour touring around the islands, passing by caves and through arches to watch the herds of sea lions and flocks of birds. There were millions with the most common guano producing birds being the Guanay Cormorant, the Peruvian Booby and the Peruvian Pelican, all seen in colonies of several thousand strong. We also saw the Humboldt penguins which brought lots of oooh’s and aaaah’s from the crowd.
The boat passed a three pronged Candelabra petroglyph, a giant sand etched pattern on a hill. No one really knows who created this petroglyph or when. It remains perfectly intact as this dry maritime desert area gets less than 4mm of rain a year. One would expect this etching to disappear over time in sand storms, however when you walk on the surface of the sand it is in fact quite crusty. It is most probably from the fog and dampness in the air.
Following this remarkable boat tour we boarded our minibus to be taken around the Reserva Nacional de Paracas, also home of the pre-Inca Paracas culture. This vast desert reserve has absolutely nothing in terms of vegetation, however the colourful red, pink, yellow, purple and grey tones of the sand dunes were a very beautiful backdrop against the wild blue misty ocean.
Whilst Pisco itself is anything BUT a romantic seaside city, we had a pretty memorable experience visiting the islands and the Paracas Pennisula. If this was the poor man’s Galapagos, then image how wonderful Galapagos might be!
The following morning, we needed to do a quick stop over at the post office before rolling out of town. Whilst I was inside sorting out the mail, Stuart got chatting to a local man about the damage to Pisco town. As we suspected, a sizable earthquake, (8.0 on the richter scale) crumbled this town in 2007. The man said in Spanish, ‘lots of people lost their houses and businesses. I lost my house AND my foot,’ whilst pointing to his shoe. What a sad reality. It answered our questions about the war-torn ambience of Pisco.
110km north of Pisco, we stopped into Cerro Azul which is known as a popular holiday destination for Limeño Peruvians. It is a cute little seaside surfing town with a handful of fabulous restaurants and a great stop over for the night. However, the real jewel of the seaside towns to us was Pucusana, a small little fishing village 65km south of Lima.
Pucasana had a quaint little protected habour packed with colourful timber boats and an island of wealthy Limeño holiday homes. Apparently you can cross over to the island during low tide but we found it too hard to drag ourselves away from our delicious seafood restaurant to explore further. It was interesting to watch the fishing boats and all the excitement and commotion at the fish markets with market buyers haggling for best prices. The buyers would then load their trucks and rush back to Lima with their fresh stock.
Whilst Pucusana is a very charming little place; it did have its little horrors. Peru has a special hairless breed of dog and they are freaky! These dogs are known to have existed in Peru since the Moche period, 100 A.D. to 800 A.D (pre Inca) and Moche sculptures of these still remain in museums. Some believe they have warmer body temperature than other dogs and thus make good lap creatures for relieving arthritic pain. True or not, there is nothing cuddly about these unusual canines unless you are into gremlins. Our experience with them has been that they are feisty, territorial, devilish looking dogs and quick to have a go at strangers.....especially cyclists. Our two interactions thus far have scared us too much to capture our own photo so Click here for links to pictures and here for more descriptions.
By far the highlight of our stay at Pucusana was the fabulous hospedaje we stayed at. Run by a very sweet lady, Elizabeth, El Mirador de Pucusana is perched on top of a hill and had breathtaking views over the harbour and ocean.
Pucasana was our last stop before reaching Lima and staying in the great comfort of Duncan, Maemi, Mariano and Gorda’s(their dog) home in Surco.
Like most large cities, Lima was a city full of contrasts. It had its shanty towns, rough and gruff neighbourhoods, street stalls, well polished wealthy districts, glamorous malls and hip coastal suburbs. It had its nuances and it had its places of serenity.
For us, Lima had fine dining, museums, nightlife, bullfighting and friends.
We got to taste ceviche (chilli and lime marinated seafood), anticuchos (lean beef heart kebab skewers), jalea pescado (tempura-like battered seafood), arroz con mariscos (seafood rice similar to paella) and picorones (sweet made out of pumpkin/zapallo and sweet potatoes/camote with fruit syrup) and loads of fine wine. Stuart and I always thought ourselves to be the ultimate food fanatics but Duncan and Maemi were the true food connoisseurs showing us what fine dining was all about in Lima.
Barranco was where it all was happening for nightlife. And Duncan, Stuart and I headed out to taste some Criollian music, typical to the coastal region of Peru. When we stood in the queue of a Peña that resembled the Vanguard in Newtown, we weren’t quite sure what we were waiting to see. There seem to be a lot of excitement as the first act finished and loads of camera crew and reporters packed the streets, interviewing celebrities and then left. Finally at 11:30pm, Vibra Peru hit the stage for a lively act with a kaleidoscope of performers.
Entertainingly, one performance was an afro-peruvian dance where a couple entered the stage with pieces of paper attached to their rear ends. The woman wiggles her rump dancing around the stage, the male attempts to light her on fire. He follows her around whilst still maintaining the groove. Sound easy? I bet it’s not with a good wriggling rump. It was rather amusing. Especially amusing when some ring-ins from the crowd had a go and they couldn’t wriggle their rumps quickly enough to save their arse.
Museo de la Nacion had a less than impressive collection of works, however one particular exhibition on The Shining Path was well worth the visit. Maemi tipped us off that the Museo de Anthropologia was an excellent attraction and indeed it was by far the best museum we had seen in South America to date. It had the best collection of well preserved ceramics, gold artefacts and fabrics from the pre-Colombian period through to the arrival of the Spanish conquistadores and onto the time of Independence and modern Peru.
After a week of relaxing and indulging in luxuries, our stay in Lima was extended to satisfy our curiosity and catch the opening of the bullfighting season. Prior to our Sunday session, Maemi educated us a little further on what to expect and I was filled with mixed feelings on this form of ‘art’.
Bullfighting in Peru could briefly be described as following the traditional spectacle of Spanish bullfighting, where the bull is usually killed in the end by the Matadores. This is primarily done by subduing and wearing down the bull, then thrusting a sword in the back of the neck and needless to say some people may prefer not to read the rest of this blog!
Duncan, Stuart and I arrived at the Plaza de Toros de Acho stadium to be greeted outside the gate by the riot police on horseback and a crowd of protesters, opposing the bullfight. I tried not notice the commotion too much as a rush of guilt charged through my body and I wondered if supporting this spectacle was the actually the right thing to be doing. We took our seats and waited in anticipation for the event to unfold.
The 8 different bulls (ranging from 360-570kg) enter the ring full of rage and ready to kill. He laps the ring, with muscles flexing and galloping at a great speed in search of victims. Waiting within the ring, cape in hand, are the 3 Banderilleros, the Matadores support team members. The bull, raging in fury, continually charges at them, driving them back into one of the many safety nooks around the perimeter of the ring. He then usually tries to pursue his chase by ramming his horns into the barrier, hoping to break through, before being distracted by the next Banderillero.
When the bull starts to show its first sign of tiredness, the Picadores then enter the ring. These are two men on fully shielded horses that are brought in to place a spear, some 3 inches long, into the back of the bull. This is a gut wrenching moment, as whilst the Picador has the spear in the back of the bull, the bull will charge the horse. Blindfolded, the horse has little idea of what is happening and continues to brace himself for the ram. You will often see the horse and horsemen being lifted up off the ground, demonstrating the great strength of these beasts. The team then rushes back in to distract the bull, relieving the horse so that he can make his exit from the arena. It’s an incredibly sad moment to watch the beautiful innocent, yet well disciplined horses, fall victim to the dirty work of the fighter.
To further aggravate the bull, the Banderilleros then begin to lure him towards the centre of the ring and stab skin-catching Banderillas (barbed spears) into his back, near the spine. Their primary aim is to aggravate the bull and drive it into exhaustion before the Matador takes the ring.
The victim is now the bull.
By this time, the bull is fully raged but starting to show signs of exhaustion as it stumbles, trying to keep its heavy weight on its feet. The show now begins, the Banderilleros exit the ring and the Matador takes their place with his red cape and sword in hand. He is dressed in glamour with dazzling gems affixed to his bust height coat and skin tight pants. He stands with poise, his free hand behind his back, torso projected and outside foot pointed. He almost moves around the ring like a ballerina, waving his cape, bringing the bull closer and closer to his body. With each close charge the crowd chants “Ole”. It is at this point, bullfighting is considered an ‘art’ as the Matador seems to dance with the bull, subduing him into exhaustion.
As the bull tames, his head lowers, unable to go on, the Matador then takes his sword and drives it into the back of the neck. It is considered a beautiful kill if the bullfighter penetrates deep into the bull and it goes down soon after. We saw this happen just once out of the 8 fights and the Matador spent 20-30 minutes walking around the bullfighting arena to the cheers and support of the crowd. Flowers and hats were thrown to him and his team and with great aplomb they were thrown back into the crowd.
Unfortunately, often the first attempt to kill fails, and the bull is then once again full of rage and searches for the last of his reserves. The Banderilleros move in, to further provoke and tire the bull. One stands on either side, flicking their cape at the bull as he jostles his head side to side too exhausted to move his feet. The blood and saliva is now pouring out of his mouth. By this point, the kill has become a painful and drawn out process. The Matador then moves in and attempts once again to place the sword into the neck of the lowered head. After three or four attempts if the bull has not died, the Banderilleros move in for the mercy kill. Horses then drag the carcass out from the stage, the blood is dusted and the next act begins.
There were 8 acts in total; 8 bulls and 4 bullfighters with 2 rounds each. All four fighters survived but not without a few knocks. One of the Matadores was a Trujillo (Peruvian) girl, who we saw remarkably tossed in the air and mauled by the bull before her team moved in. Bravely, she continued the fight. Another contestant was a tiny 11 year 11 month old boy who made his debut appearance taking on a 360kg bull. He was tossed a couple of times and rammed in the groin. His injuries were sufficient enough to miss the second round. During each of these moments, I couldn’t help but feel a glimmer of smile each time I saw the bull score a few points, in what seems to me an unjust match.
Quite frankly, I thought the number of acts was an overkill (literally!). I left feeling pretty disgusted with the unfairness of the match and the cruelty of the drawn out process. There seemed to be far too many fighters ganging up on one bull. It was never a ‘fair’ fight.
In the end however, we were pleased we went to the bullfight to see what the hype was all about. However, I can’t say that come the next bullfight, I won’t be the one on the other side of the fence, supporting animal rights and protesting against its cruelty.
The close of the match meant that our time in Lima was up. We headed back to Duncan, Maemi, Mariano and Gorda’s house for our last blissful night’s sleep, before heading north the following morning along the Pan Americana Highway to Huaraz and the Cordillera Blanca.
Anita (and Stuart)
LIST OF FABULOUS LIMA RESTAURANTS
Restaurant Javier
Restaurant Jose Antonio
Restaurant Punto Azul
Restaurant Huanchaco
Restaurant Huanchaco
INTERNET RECIPES LINKS TO PERUVIAN DISHES WE RECOMMEND
ENTRÉE
ENTRÉE
Cancha (Peruvian pop corn)
Assorted platter: Anticucho (beef heart skewers), papa rellena (stuffed potatos), yuquitas rellenas con queso (stuffed yucas with chesse), chicharrones (deep fried pork), Tamalitos Verdes (little green tamales made out of fresh corn and and herb called huacatay)
Choclo con queso (corn on the cob with cheese)
Anticucho (beef heart skewers)
MAINS
Seco de Cordero (traditional northern lamb stew dish)
Ceviche de Pescado Tradicional (lime & chilli cooked fish)
Tiradito de pescado en Salsa de aji amarillo (ceviche with yellow sauce)
Jalea de Pescado (fish tempura)
Rocoto Molido (stuffed red peppers)
Tiradito de pescado en Salsa de aji amarillo (ceviche with yellow sauce)
Jalea de Pescado (fish tempura)
Rocoto Molido (stuffed red peppers)
Arroz con Mariscos (rice and shellfish stews)
Tacu tacu con Lomo Saltado (bean patty with Peruvian beef stirfry)
Cabrito deshuesado (de-boned) a la Nortena con Arroz (rice), Yuca y Frejoles (beans)
Cangrejo Reventado (scramble eggs with meat crab)
Chicha Morada (purple corn drink....yum)
Cabrito deshuesado (de-boned) a la Nortena con Arroz (rice), Yuca y Frejoles (beans)
Cangrejo Reventado (scramble eggs with meat crab)
Chicha Morada (purple corn drink....yum)
DESERT
Picarones
Masamorra Morada (purple corn pudding)
Masamorra Morada (purple corn pudding)
Buen Provecho!!!
Posted byStuart Kane at 9:24 PM
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Very instructive and good pictures.
And thanks for de postcard.
Diana y Gustavo.
Rosario. Argentina.