We had heard of a town just south of Lima called Paracas. Apparently, there was a beach there and it was meant to be a great stop along the coast. Hmm..a lesson in travel..all recommendations are subjectiveJ Our view of Paracas differed slightly from some of our travel mates, in that we found it to be a bit on the dingy, dirty, dusty and less than appealing side of the tracks. Sooo, we kicked our resourcefulness into high gear and booked accommodations at the hostel for 11 US dollars/night and opted to spend our days relaxing in the poolside cabanas of the 5 star resort that we discovered a five minute walk down the road. Perfect. We might have only blended in as actual guests for about 5 hours (walk like you know what you are doing and where you are going, always) before we were found out and were asked to relocate. But, we had no complaints as our relocation spot was the massive and extravagant resort lobby, complete with a beachfront view lined with tikki torches (the pretty bit of the beach), comfy overstuffed furniture to kick our feet up on, and a cozy rock fireplace. Yeah, that’ll do. Edinho, if you are reading this..thanks for the constant supply of maize, nuts and drink refills. You rock.
We did get adventurous one day and
found ourselves out on a bike ride through the desert sand dunes of the nearby
national reserve. You would think we had learned our lesson from heeding the
advice of others regarding the attractions of this region. Sadly, we had not. “When
you get to this part of map, go here instead..ride by the beachside, much more
pretty and will save time.” These were the words of our bike rental lady. And
they could have easily been the last words we ever heard from the outside
world. Ah, maybe that’s a bit dramatic, but maybe it’s not. The first few hours
of this adventure were actually alright as we pumped our pedals up and down the
hills of the dunes, admiring the endless sea of sand surrounding us at every
angle. It was as if time stood still as we rode through the middle of the earth’s
hour glass. Another moment of feeling so small in this great big world of ours.
Then the sun began to pound a little more violently on our gringa backs. And
then..then came the infamous beach front bike ride.
I’m pretty certain we rode our bikes
straight into the elephant graveyard of Peru. Simba, you got nothing on us
buddy. As riding was no longer an option, due to the impossibly difficult and
uneven mounds of sand, we dismounted and began the push onward by foot. A
surprisingly treacherous feat. A few feet into our trek we were instantly
overwhelmed with an unfortunate and terrible stench. I kept on moving forward
with the thought of “who knew beaches could rot?” perplexing my mind. Another
few feet and then..ope, there it was. Part of the reason behind the stench. I
looked up just as Laura let out a little scream and I found her with her foot
hovering mid-step, dramatically poised a few inches away from the carcass of a
dead sea lion. At least that what my mind interpreted this bloated half of a
creature lying before us to be. We squeamishly scooted around this poor fella
and kept walking only to discover that the path in front of us was completely
riddled with even more evidence of death. What the heck is in this water?? We
spent the next 20 minutes carefully tip toeing around to avoid stepping on even
more sea lion remains, countless fish skeletons, remnants of birds, and wait a
sec..is that a human femur?? Wouldn’t have surprised me anyways. We finally
made it to the other side and celebrated our survival with a priceless
rendition of Coolio’s “Gangsta’s Paradise”. As I walk through the valley of the
shadow of death…
It only took another 10 minutes of
riding in the blazing sun for us to realize that we could no longer handle this
dust bowl which had filled our shoes with bone fragments and feathers and had successfully
exfoliated our skin with all the finest dust particles the desert had to offer.
We turned those rusty bikes around and quickly headed back for civilization.
Well, maybe not quickly. We slowly trudged back toward town, while guzzling Powerades
and munching on Oreos (the health nuts that we are). Fortunately, we must have
looked pretty pitiful, because a truck filled with several hospitable Peruvian
scientists approached us about 15 minutes into our journey and offered us a
ride. What would have been a 2 hour miserable return trip via bicycle turned
into a pleasant and relaxing 20 minute car ride. Nervous break downs and
worsened sunburns successfully avoided. I have never met a group of scientists
I have loved more. Adios carcass city.