It feels like an age since we immortalised a few days of our Peru experience. The last time we spoke we had just settled into Lima, which was a welcome change to the mountainous Huaraz.
Majestic Miraflores, Bohemian Barranco & Culinary Central
Staying in Miraflores and having the Pacific coast to traverse every morning was a pleasure. The walk south to Barrio Barranco was lined with parks, quirky architecture – for an unknown reason evoking feelings of GTA Vice City – and a surprising number of different birds; red ones, blue-eyed ones and ones of the humming variety. And pigeons. Further south, Barranco itself was far more arty, with coffee shops, artisanal restaurants and much older architecture, much of it in desperate need of repair. Although the dilapidation does add to the huge amount of charm Barranco possesses.
When we weren’t walking around museums, looking at art or learning about the many pre-Incan communities, we were eating. As an early Christmas treat, and as a counterbalance to the regular dinners of tomato, onion & pasta, we managed to snag a lunch service at Restaurant Central, featured on Netflix’s Chef’s Table.
Altitude food was on the menu; from sea bed to mountain top. For us, every dish had new fruit, vegetables and fish to eat, and it was not always entirely pleasant. There was also something quite theatrical about the food; without trying to sound pretentious, it was culinary storytelling, highlighted by Course 8 – High Valley: 2800m. Raw prawns, lukewarm brown broth and cool mushy avocado. It literally felt like we were consuming a river bank. Fascinating.
If you know us and our travel history, you will know that we often find ourselves in odd situations. At Central, this historical trend was not bucked. As Course 7 arrived – Coastal Foothills: 450m – an American woman on the table adjacent to us screamed
“Is anybody here a doctor?”
As I pointed at Daisy, I thought “sorry, it’s not my fault I am a proud husband.”
Obviously overcome by the thought of eating piranha skin, the American’s compatriat had collapsed. As thirty minutes passed by, and Course 7 was removed from our place settings in hushed tones, the restaurant continued to serve meals while a gringo lay on the floor, being comforted by another gringo. Long story short, the volunteer fire officers turned up to treat the stricken American, Daisy returned and Course 7 was re-served to us. Thankfully, the rest of lunch had us eat our courses as soon as they were served. And no one else collapsed.
A few days in Lima ended up being quite eventful, all things considered.
Deserts, dunes and dancing to Oasis in an oasis
We had already decided to book the second half in Peru with Peru Hop; one ticket, a number of key destinations on the Gringo Trail, and the flexibility to change travel plans last minute seemed like an attractive prospect, especially after spending hours stressing about buses for the first 3 weeks. After a short stop in the Peru Hop office, and a few hundred dollars later, we had our wristbands as well as tickets to Paracas, Huacachina and Nazca!
Our first “hop on” was an early start from Miraflores, destination: Paracas. Before we arrived we hopped off at the Chincha Tunnels for a sombre tour through a small section of 17km of slave tunnels outside Lima. The 18th Century San Jose Hacienda was home to a family who owned thousands of slaves forced to work in the cotton and sugar fields. The evidence of this horrific time in human history were uncomfortably screwed to the walls. According to our guide, the owner of this Hacienda was brutal; when the government passed legislation to give freedom to the slaves of Peru, the owner hid the truth for over a decade. He met his end on the front steps of the Hacienda when the slaves found out the truth, removing his head in the process. As we made our way back to the bus we were both quiet. Walking around San Jose was a thought-provoking experience.
Hop on, hop off; Paracas.
Paracas, a tiny, walled beach town, is located just outside a massive, desert nature reserve, the boundaries of which extend into the ocean; Isla Ballestas, off the coast, is nicknamed the “poor man’s Galapagos“, and is home to a lot of bird and marine life. As you know, we spent 3 weeks in the real Galapagos, so decided to save our soles (we took the free Peru Hop Reserve tour) and spent our extra time playing Rummy and organising our backpacks in the hostel; Kokopelli Paracas had a decent vibe, and the mixed dorm rooms had “pods” rather than bunk beds. Privacy maintained.
Hop on, hop off; Huacachina.
We’d heard mixed reviews of Huacachina; located 10 minutes outside Ica, this tiny town surrounds a desert oasis, which itself is surrounded by enormous sand dunes. It’s a one-road-in-and-out location, which, as alumni of UEA and University of Portsmouth respectively, is a geographical scenario that causes people to go a little loco.
The desert oasis has the reputation of being a party town, and the weekend on which we arrived was Peru Hop‘s 5th birthday; the Irish owners of the transport company threw 3 days of festivities at the newly-opened Wild Rover Hostel. After a night of “celebrating Peru Hop‘s birthday”, Daisy rolling back the years with a rendition of “Wannabe” while dancing on the bar, a club beckoned; for a town that has 97 inhabitants, the 1000+ attendees of this club was a surprising sight. If a picture speaks a thousand words, then this one is a novel –
Scrambled eggs, chicken sandwiches and sandboarding filled the itinerary for Saturday. Our hostel provided the sandboards and a dune buggy driver, who drove like an absolute maniac. Hanxiety was usurped by the overwhelming fear that our lives were to end that afternoon; the ride was bone-rattling, fast and uncontrolled. Ignorantly, we asked our driver if he needed a license or special training to drive a buggy in the dunes. Or if he’d ever rolled it. You can guess the answers.
During our adrenal downtime, we relaxed at our hostel – Banana’s Adventure – and spent it with new friends; three Mancunians, a fellow Hertfordshirian (? that doesn’t look correct…) and a lad from Florida/Texas. We navigated many conversational topics, yet only hovered around Brexit and Trump twice. Result.
Hop on, hop off; Nazca.
We actually changed our plans for Nazca. Originally, we wanted to spend the night in the town and take a flight over the lines the following morning, but after speaking to fellow travellers and reading up on the aviation experience, we decided thirty, vomit-inducing minutes didn’t sound as good as climbing the tower and then continuing overnight to Arequipa.
Travel tip: the Nazca Lines themselves cover such a huge expanse of desert that it is possible to see just a few. Before committing, we recommend reading up on the flight safety record, the Lines and the town of Nazca, as they all have hugely varying reviews. We are glad it was just a short stopover for us.
Thankfully, Gonzalo, our Airbnb host, let us check-in to our apartment at 6am, so after an overnight bus we decided that the first order of the day was a long nap. Exploring the second-largest city in Peru, Arequipa, could wait until later.
Until next time.