Wild West in Iquitos

Waterfront, Iquitos
Originally uploaded by fake fotos

Iquitos.

The first thing you notice about Iquitos is the noise. Well, maybe the punishing tropical heat first, then the noise.

Surrounded by three rivers, Iquitos is an island in the middle of the amazonian jungle; the largest city in the world only accessible by boat or plane. Disembarking from the plane is like getting wrapped in a hot, steaming towell. From there on out you sweat. Arriving at 7am, the temperature was 26 degrees celsius, the humidity surely was hovering around 90%. I left Lima wearing a sweater and a rain jacket.

As with all airports, bus terminals or train stations there was a crowd of taxi cab drivers (taxistas) offering their services: "amigo, taxi. amigo, taxi. amigo, taxi." Being offered a taxi for five soles ($1.66), I took it. The taxis are three wheeled motorcycles lacking mufflers.
The city is overrun with them, thus the noise. The only time you can really hear yourself think is between 1am and 5am. At 5am the city explodes with a resounding eructation of collective ignition. From then on all you can hear are thousands of unmuffled mototaxis circuiting the city.

Sonic relief can be found if you escape to the jungle, however, a completely distinct sonic experience awaits you there, that of the ... jungle. Duh.

Before I get behind myself...

Lima - another fixer upper for sale
Originally uploaded by fake fotos

I almost forgot about Lima. How could I forget about precious Lima?
So many good memories.

On the 7th of December I returned to Lima for a couple nights of big city fun before flying off to Iquitos.

Stayed in Miraflores at "Home Peru". Lovely place for a reasonable price. Apparently an old converted mansion (?) or perhaps just a stately manor.

Cruised up and down Avenida Arequipa. Took in a movie, La Brújula Dorada, or The Golden Compass. More like a golden turd. What a bitter disappointment. Phillip Pullman should ask to have his name pulled from the project. It was dubbed in Spanish, so that made it perhaps less disappointing as the English version has some fine actors doing voice-overs.

Like any other city of 7+ million people, Lima is borderline psychotic. Noisy and filthy, but not without its charms.

One thing antipodinal (did I just make that up?) about city life down here in South America, or at least Peru, is that the poor people live in the hills and the rich people live down in the city. Seems like every other North American city the rich are clammering to get higher and higher out of the filth of the basin. Who knows?

Did do some fine dining in Lima at La Gloria. It was glorious. Cheaper than it would have been in the States, but still not that cheap.

On Sunday morning at 3am I fled the city to see how if I could sweat out the urban toxins in Iquitos.

El Carmen, Perú

El Carmen, Perú
Originally uploaded by fake fotos

Where was I? Bouncing back and forth along the southern coast.

A quick review: Nov. 28th, landed in Lima, got robbed, fled to the desert oasis of Huacachina for several days; Dec. 2nd, flew over Nazca lines, then back north to Pisco; in Pisco stayed at el Hostal Tambo Colorado, owned and operated by a lovely couple; from Pisco went to Paracas to catch a boat out to Las Islas Ballestas; after the boat ride, a tour of La Reserva Nacional de Paracas, incredible desert landscapes; after Pisco I made a split second decision to go back to Huacachina, what the hell; then off to Chincha for a night; in the afternoon caught a colectivo out to El Carmen, the center of Afro-Peruvian culture; much to my naive chagrin, there was no music or dancing in the streets, those travel guides paint in such broad strokes; from there I went to Lima for a couple of nights before catching a plane to Iquitos, the largest city in the word accessible only by plane or boat. Ok, that was about as quick as I could make it.

Next up, I will travel back in time to review my time in Iquitos.

Playing catch up

Paracas Reserva Nacional - Red Sand Beach
Originally uploaded by fake fotos

Sure, "they" say you´re supposed to record things as they happen so they´re nice and fresh. But, I ain´t so fresh like that.

As can be noted by the photos from Paracas, I can´t seem to get enough of posting them to this here blog.

This could be perceived as a disasociative form of recounting the trip, but I suppose that´s the kind of traveler recounter (?) I am.

One form of travel I learned to loathe rather quickly was the bus. There are buses to represent all classes of society and as an American with the ability to buy my way into the upper echelon of Peruvian travel, that´s just what I did.

However, I soon discovered that the "cruzero class", one step below the super elite class, on the Cruz del Sur busline is not very conducive for sleeping. One way in which they accomplish this is by playing movies very loudly. Also, the selection of movies can be a bit discomfiting. Traveling through the coastal desert south of Lima, the first movie was Babel. Said movie begins with a young moroccan sharp shooter nailing Cate Blanchett in the neck while traveling by bus in a desert. Yes. Nervous laughter as I uneasily rubbed my neck.

After the movie, or movies, finish the music comes on. Who doesn´t love the pan flute in all its varied forms, from classic Andean folclórico to modern interpretations of 80´s classics? Somehow this reminded me of the film Aguirre: Wrath of God, wherein Aguirre demands that the peruvian panflutist keep playing the same song over and over.

Another super fun bus ride was the overnight trip from Lima to Arequipa, a mere 15 hours. Sleep came in uneasy fits. Then became a kind of hallucinatory nighmare when we hit the winding highway towering above the ocean. The back and forth twisting and turning was really great in its own right. The lack of a shoulder, much less a guard rail elevated the comfort levels to altitudes similar to the drop down to the sea. Then there was the leapfrogging between competing buses. We´d pass one, in the dark on a curvy highway, mind you, then they´d pass us back. Sometimes this happened while just up the road coming at us in the opposite direction were two semi-trailers playing the same game.

Chincha, Perú

Chincha, Perú
Originally uploaded by fake fotos

And then there was Chincha. It was hit eqully hard by the earthquakeand is in much the same state as Pisco.

The building to the left is El Hostal Posada, where I was staying. The building next to it did not survive the earthquake. While in Chincha there was a tremor of 5.4. I was in my room on the third floor. In about five seconds I had put my boots on and was on the street.

Pisco, Perú

Pisco, Perú, originally uploaded by fake fotos.

The aftermath of the August 15th earthquake. The town was 80% destroyed and they are still clearing out the rubble in order to start rebuilding. Many countries have sent money to Perú, but apparently it has not found its way out of the pockets of bureaucratic pants.

Tsunami - La Reserva Nacional de Paracas

Paracas Reserva Nacional - tsunami site, originally uploaded by fake fotos.

This little bit of water is what remains of a lake created by the tsunami generated by the earthquake. Nearby were three tourist restaurants that were destroyed. My guide, Jesus, commented that it was better that they were wiped out as they regularly overcharged customers, creating an uncomfortable situation for the guides.

Reserva Nacional de Paracas - el suelo lunar

Reserva Nacional de Paracas - suelo lunar, originally uploaded by fake fotos.

After Huacachina I headed south to fly over the Nazca Lines. My bus passed an airplane that had to make an emergency landing on the highway. I´m sure that sort of thing happens all the time.

After flying over the Nazca Lines, which was amazing, there is not much to see in Nazca and it was beastly hot. My guide advised me to take the next bus out of town. Not exactly a ringing endorsement for the town itself. From there I caught to bus to Pisco, the epicenter of the August 15th earthquake. A friend in Huacachina informed me that the government of Perú has emergency funds allocated for earthquakes over 8.0 on the Richter scale. The initial reports, according to said friend, came in at 8.4. After some consideration, the official score was 7.8 or 7.9. Just below the level needed to distribute funds. Close, but no disaster. A crazy conspiracy theory or just another notch on the belt of corruption?

The above photo was taken in La Reserva Nacional de Paracas, just outside Pisco. Perhaps some of my favorite scenery in Perú. The whole coastline is a long expanse of desert with shades of red thanks to iron and mineral deposits. Not unlike the red planet.

Open Veins of Pisco

90 years young with pisco, originally uploaded by fake fotos.

A spry ninety years old, este señor claims the secret to his longevity is regular consumption of pisco. Mantiene las veinas limpias.

Who then, in their right mind, would turn down a shot or two or three after such an endorsement?

Thus, I concluded my visit to La Bodega Lazo on the outskirts of Ica, Perú by cleansing my veins with this fine gentleman.

El Hostal Salvatierra, Huacachina

salvatierra huacachina, originally uploaded by fake fotos.

My accomodations in Huacahina. Actually, the second place I stayed.
The first place doesn´t deserve mentioning as I paid too much for ice cold service (La Hoseteria Suiza...whoopsy). Salvatierra is family run and has been around since the 30´s. They are a very sweet family and I cannot recommend their services enough.

Huacachina buggy good time

Huacachina buggy good time, originally uploaded by fake fotos.

Here is a view of the sand dunes surrounding Hucachina at sunset.

Previous to this photo, I was laughing my ass forgettting all about the previous day´s robbery in Lima. The dune buggy ride was better than a roller coaster. I screamed like a 10 year old.

Sandboarding was also included in the fun, although I don´t think I´ll ever do that again. Our guide, Jaime, claims we reached speeds of
100km/hour on the sandboards, mind you, that was lying on the stomache. It was fast, maybe 60km/hour, but felt like light speed. Much screaming and laughing there too. Standing on the board snowboard style posed a different challenge, one that could have lead to a broken limb, or a sore rump in my case. No photos of the sandboarding as the camera would have been destroyed.

Huacachina

Huacachina, originally uploaded by fake fotos.

An oasis in the desert for the Peruvian elite. Now a backpacker´s delight. A very quiet little "town" of about 70 people who make their living off tourism. Hard to say how many pass through everyday, but it is teaming with an international surfeit of travellers, from the cheapest of cheapskates to the wealthiest of the wealthy.

Spent an inordinate amount of time at La Casa Avímoan. Great food and a very friendly staff.

Then there was the "booogy". Dune buggy rides through the vast expanse of sand dunes.

Finally, an update... maybe.

Where to begin? How about getting robbed in Lima?
That news is so old, it isn´t even news anymore, but for
those of you out there who haven´t heard here it is:

I got robbed in Lima.

Nothing fancy, mind you, no guns, no knives, no threats.
Just his wits against my complete lack thereof.

I arrived in Lima at 6am, paid way too much for a taxi
(maybe that could be considered the first robbery...but
it was safe and who doesn`t enjoy just giving their money
away when asked nicely by people in suits?) and was
delivered to the scene of the crime: the Cruz del Sur
bus station. Ironically, this is the safest and most expensive
bus by which to travel in Peru. Long story short, I set
my bags down after a man I presumed to be a bus terminal
employee started being helpful. An easy mark I was.


Needless to say, he walked off with my new daypack, which
contained my laptop, ipod, photcopies of passport and credit
cards and various other crap. You know, small stuff.

I then spent the next three hours at the police station. Maybe
it would have been 10 minutes if I´d been mentally spry enough to
start laying down cash. Instead, I related the events to three
or four different detectives of varying degress of authority,
each one higher than the last. A rigorous warm-up for the Spanish
skills. One look at the police station and it is obvious what they are lacking:
money. They were all very nice. Maybe they would have been even nicer if...

Enough of that.

Then it was off to Ica and Huacachina.

How does this thing work?

blog blog blog blog blog blog blog.

Think I got the hang of it.

Statement of Purpose:

A website, or blog, if you will, where I will be posting the various whonows and whatnots of
my trip through South America. Sounds fun, no?

Only time will tell how much fun we've all had in this group-hug generator here known as the 'blogosphere'.