Lima and Huacachina
After leaving Colombia I head to Lima where I meet up with my friend Amanda. She has just flown down to Peru during a break from law school. We spend one day in the city wandering through the streets, feasting on some amazing arepas, and walking down to the seaside where, much to my surprise, there are a lot of surfers paddling out. That evening we have some of the best ceviche we’ve ever had at Punto Azul - a restaurant recommended by Angelo, the very amiable and helpful owner of the B&B we are staying at.
The next day we are on a grueling 4 hour bus ride out to Ica, where we catch a taxi to Huacachina - a town small enough you can walk the perimeter in about 10 minutes. We do just that and suss out the place pretty quickly: very touristic, most of the food establishments serving sub-par meals at inflated prices. Despite this, Huacachina is worth the the visit. Taking a dune buggy tour through the surrounding desert you get a great perspective on things. Huacachina is this little oasis contrasted against large, rolling sand dunes. I’ve definitely never seen anything quite like it. The ride is an exhilarating one. Like a giant sand rollercoaster. The driver guns it up one side of a dune, slowing at the top and pausing just a moment before we go careening down the other side. Passengers squeal like just like at an amusement park. Once we are a good distance away, our driver stops and our little group jumps out. We all grab sand-boards. There is a succession of dunes that we bomb with these ragged little boards provided by the tour company. Unfortunately, for legal reasons I’m sure, they only allow us to ride the boards down on our stomachs, but it’s cool enough. Each dune is successively steeper and more fun.
Soon we head back to Lima as Amanda has to catch her flight home. I decide to spend one more day in the city wandering around a neighborhood called Barranco. The next day before catching my 2pm bus, I grab lunch at a secret little restaurant known as the “Bullfighter’s House”. It’s the house of a famous but now deceased Bullfighter that’s been turned into a spot where the locals eat. There is no sign, and no way to know there is a restaurant there. Luckily Angelo tells me of it and just how to find it. After the clandestine and amazing lunch I am on the bus for a 22 hour ride to Cusco. It is not as horrible as I had feared, but still it’s a 22 HOUR BUS RIDE…
