Pointbreak Perfection

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The worst thing about getting a bus in Peru is that nowhere has a central terminal where all the buses congregate. Instead each bus company has it´s own station. This means that first you have to find the bus company that has a route through your preferred destination and then you have to try and find it´s location. For a gringo that doesn't´t speak much spanish, this makes things significantly harder than in would have been in the countries prior to Peru. In Ecuador you could turn up at the bus terminal, shout out your destination and sit back while the bus conductors fought to get your bags on their bus. Simple! Unfortunately i wasn´t able to apply the same approach for my journey to Pacasmayo. On all the previous bus journeys, i had always been the allocated bag minder. Pete organised the tickets and i did as i was told. I was now being thrown in at the deep end and needed to learn how to swim fast.

I had anticipated having a problem organizing my bus ticket. My cunning plan was to try and enlist the help of Alex, who´s spanish was very good. We organised to meet up the afternoon before we were due to leave, but a night spent on the sauce with Jimmy, meant Alex didn't´t make an appearance all day. My master plan had failed, so i headed off on my own. I traveled all over Mancora in the back of a moto taxi to all the different bus company's i could find. The only one that seemed to go anywhere near where i wanted to go was called El Sol. After a conversation with the girl at the desk, i still wasn´t 100% sure the bus actually stopped in Pacasmayo. The bus also left at 10pm and traveled 8 hours through the night. I knew the bus ended in Trujillo, so i brought a ticket. If the worst came to the worst, i knew i could get a taxi to Huanchaco (where Simon was) from Trujillo. I would just hope the bus actually stopped in Pacasmayo first.

I packed my bags, said my goodbyes and arrived at the bus stop a good 45 minutes before the bus was due to depart. I sat on the curb for over an hour and still the bus hadn´t arrived. There was nobody else waiting for the same bus, which wasn´t a good sign. Luckily a lady from a restaurant nearby took pity on me and brought a chair for me to sit on. When the bus finally arrived, i loaded my bags into the hold and climbed on board. It was absolutely rammed with Peruvians and all the seats bar one were taken. I quickly sat down as all the eyes on the bus followed my every move. At least i was lucky enough to get a seat. All the people that boarded the bus at later stops had to stand for the 8 hour journey. Despite it being the longest, darkest, most uncomfortable bus journey ever, i did manage to get some sleep. Even more amazingly, i woke up just in time to see a sign saying ´Welcome to Pacasmayo´. My stop. Mission accomplished!!

When i arrived at the hostel, i immediately got my head down for some proper shut eye. When i got up at midday, Scotty and his mates Alan and Jen were chilling in the hostel garden. I spent the rest of the day catching up with Scotty and exploring Pacasmayo. We would all hit the surf first thing the next morning. The break at Pacasmayo is a 30 minute walk out of town to the point. The plan was to get up at 5am, catch a moto taxi to the break in time for first light and enjoy having the waves all to ourselves.

It felt a bit strange wandering around town at 5am wearing wetsuits and carrying surfboards. It was still dark, we couldn't´t find a taxi and although pacasmayo is a good wave, there isn´t much of a surfing population. All this meant we got some strange looks from the locals. Jen eventually managed to get a cab to agree to take us, so we piled the boards in the car and jumped in. I ended up lying down in the boot for the extremely bumpy ride to the break. At one point we got stuck in sand and Scott and Alan had to get out and push. All this excitement and it still wasn't even 5:30am.

The new swell hadn´t quite arrived, but the waves were still head high and peeling for quite a long way. As our plan had anticipated, there was nobody else out. We all made our way across the rocks to paddle to the lineup. The wave wasn´t as fast and hollow as Lobitos. Once you dropped in and made your bottom turn, you were faced with a huge shoulder that pealed down the line for ages. There were no fast sections to chase and when you got a good wave you could go to town, trying to fit in as many turns as possible. I definitely got the longest rides of my life.

There was a bit of a rip moving down the point, meaning you constantly had to paddle to stay in position. After each wave you would be faced with a long paddle back to the take off, against the rip. It would take about 10 minutes to get back into position, but the whole time you would have a huge smile on your face, completely stoked from previous ride and keen to get another. We surfed for over 3 hours before i was running on empty from all the paddling and needed to get some breakfast. After such a brilliant surf, the 30 minute walk back to the hostel, felt like it only took 10 minutes.

Later that day Scotty, Alan and Jen headed north to a secret spot they had managed to get a lift to. I decided to stay in Pacasmayo for a couple more days. I enjoyed surfing, chilling at the hostel and exploring the streets of Pacasmayo before heading to Huanchaco for christmas. Only 5 days to go and it doesn't´t feel at all like christmas. The only reminder that it is the festive period is the life size nativity scene in the hostel garden and the live turkey tied up in the corner, completely oblivious to it´s fate. Only a few days to go and i still haven´t done any shopping. Pete, if you still have your presents to buy, top of my list is a new surfboard. 6ft 2" rounded pintail if possible bro!!!

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