he could not have been more than about nine years old, he looked at my dish of food recently eaten, and glanced into my eyes - puedo - all i had left was letuce, tons of onions, assorted pieces of uneaten ceviche... the starkeness of the white sand dunes, the pacific ocean, and the oasis which is pisco was hard to take in - my eyes saw white sand, green from the grapes, chile, cotton and corn planted along side of the pisco river adjacent the foothills to the andes. an early morning pick up at the hostel, which was operating on late time took us down the coast from the city of pisco to the port of paracas - the same port from shich San Martin launched his war of liberation from spain many centuries
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