A long journey of overnight buses from Guayaquil to Lima

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After touching down safely into Ecuador’s largest city, Guayaquil, we had a few hours to kill before our late afternoon bus across the border into Peru. Claire and I decided to explore the downtown and after stashing our bags with the bus company at the terminal we were in a taxi and on our way.

The taxi experience within itself was a bit nerve racking as on our previous one night stay in Guayaquil (before our trip to the Galapagos) we had been given a strict set of criteria from hostel staff on how to choose a taxi to minimise potential robberies and kidnapping. Luckily we’d chosen wisely and were delivered safely into the centre of what we were a little surprised to find was a beautiful city. Frist we walked through a central park with literally 100’s of green iguanas milling about as well as squirrels and a small artificial pond with some resident turtles. It probably would have seemed even more impressive had we not spent the last week knee deep in the nature of the Galapagos. Next we walked along the expansive stretch of modern riverfront development, the Malecon 2000, with its seemingly endless public areas including multiple parks, duck ponds, children’s playgrounds and ice cream vendors. This led to the colorful and historic neighborhood of Las Penas where (after a 444 stair climb) you had 360 degree views of the city and where Claire and I were lucky enough to hear what seemed like the entire city cheering when Ecuador scored the first goal in their world cup qualifier against Paraguay.

Back at the bus terminal (after yet another problem free taxi ride, stoked) we stumbled across our friend Chris almost immediately and joined him in his McDonald’s dinner. Our bus left on time and, other than Chris having his hair stroked by a random guy sitting behind him, delivered us in reasonable shape to Mancora, Peru by 2.00am. Even the two border crossings, which we’d heard were notoriously long and dodgy, ran smoothly whilst our bus waited for us outside migrations. On arrival Claire and Chris retreated to bed after a long day but I had a friend from school, Ben, staying at the same hostel so I caught up with him at the hostel bar for a few beers until 4.00am or so. We had succumbed to a party hostel for the first time and were staying at Loki del Mar. From the outside, it looked more like a resort than a hostel with outdoor bars, a huge pool and cabanas with hammocks. However the rooms were basically an echoey concrete shell with a bed and some paint… not at all resort-like.

The next day was perfect sunshine and after a sleep in and fairly ordinary included breakfast we decided to hit the beach. Mancora is considered one of the best beaches in Peru and although it did the job in providing some brown sand to sun ourselves on and some water to splash in it was a far cry from the beaches of home. It did however give us the opportunity to meet one of the local beachbums ‘Johnny Brown’, a bartender/surf instructor who seemed like he’d invested most of his life into the Mancora party scene and was now paying for it (at one point he stared at one of his fingers for five minutes whilst flicking it with his other hand). However, the real flavors of Mancora didn’t become evident until that night when the sun set and the party began. Our hostel seemed to house almost exclusively bogan Aussies on a mission to drink each day away and never actually leave the hostel compound. It was also the Australian vs South Africa rugby world cup qualifier that night (starting at 2.00am) so needless to say it was a big night. Claire and I didn’t crawl into bed until 7.00am and the next day we heard from Chris that he’d not slept till 9.00am after he and a group of others from the hostel had hired a local fisherman’s boat and gone swimming out past the breakers.

Our initial plan was three nights in Mancora but the previous day we’d decided to cut this down to two nights and booked our onward bus travel to Trujillo. This also meant a midday checkout which was amongst one of the hardest things I’ve had to do the entire trip with next to no sleep and an elephant sized hangover. Luckily the hostel was equipped with a ton of communal spaces including a row of hammocks in which I set myself up in for the rest of the day. Before we boarded our overnight bus onwards Claire and I splurged out on a steak dinner at local restaurant ‘Beef House’ still memorable (even after crossing Argentina) as the best steak we’ve ever had!

Our first day in Trujillo was mostly a write off as we were both buggered after a long weekend and an overnight bus trip. One bonus was an unbelievable lunch from a hole-in-the-wall sandwich joint called San Agustin recommended by our guide book. Feeling like we should do something more productive with our second day we signed up for a full day tour of local archeological ruins pre-dating the Incan empire. Our pint-sized guide made the day with her enthusiasm and she seemed to glow each time we told her something she’d told us was interesting (she was even ecstatic in recounting how she’d once spent an entire day working to uncover a 3 x 3mm section of frieze). Our morning stop was at Las Huacas del Sol y de la Luna or the Sun Temple and Moon Temple ruins from the Moche civilisation (100-800AD) which included a museum of discovered pottery and history from the site. The site’s show piece was the five level Moon Temple which had been constructed over some 500 years by the Moche simply filling in the existing temple with mud-bricks every century or so then constructing an identical temple on top. In the afternoon we were then led around ruins from the Chimu civilisation (900-1470AD) including the vast city of Chan Chan and its many palaces. These were interesting enough to keep us occupied until the evening although had had extensive restoration works done making them seem a little less authentic than the earlier ruins of Moche.

That same night we were again on an overnight bus, this time a further eight hours south to the mountain town of Huaraz, home to some of Peru’s best trekking and highest mountain peaks. The overnight trip was surprisingly ok other than an unchanged baby stinking out the whole bus for the final two hours.

Huaraz itself sits at an altitude of 3052m so after coming from sea level even walking around the town seemed an effort. Our first day was dedicated to food, coffee and beer in attempt to build our energy levels for the trek we’d booked for the following day. The trek itself was a one day trek to ‘Lagoon 69’ which sits at an altitude of 4600m. The cost of the day was around A$50 each which turned out to be great value as it included not only a private guide from 7.00am - 6.00pm but also a private taxi which drove us the 2.5 hours to the start of the trek then waited there for the five hours until we’d finished the walk then drove us the 2.5 hours back to town. Our guide Javier was a friendly local guy who for some reason decided that 10 minutes into the walk was the best time for us to take our first break whilst he went number 2 in the bushes. It was a beautiful sunny day and all around were snowcapped peaks including the highest mountain in Peru, Huascaran at 6768m. The walk itself wasn’t overly difficult although the trail did follow a fairly constant uphill gradient and the altitude made for some heavy breathing. We were going ok until about 4300m when the altitude started really getting to Claire causing headaches, breathlessness and nausea. To her credit she battled on and after a near collapse I was just suggesting she not go any further when we realised we were only 50m or so from the top. The lagoon itself was brilliant blue and filled from several crystal clear streams running the melted snow (otherwise known as water) from the overhead mountain. Thankfully the trek back to the taxi was much easier downhill and the lower we got the better Claire felt although she was left with a pounding headache until even after we were dropped back to the hostel in Huaraz.

Once again we backed up that night with an overnight bus trip (our last of 4 in 8 days). Of course Claire had to jinx us by saying 'at least there isn’t a stinky baby on board’ about 13 seconds before a young boy directly across the aisle from us started spewing profusely and stinking up the entire bus.

In Lima we’d arranged to again meet up with Chris and stay at hostel Kokopelli as recommended by one of his friends. As we’d arrived early in the morning (6.00am) and our room was still in use we weren’t able to check in until 1.00pm giving us more than a couple of weary hours to explore the surrounding suburb of Miraflores. Zombie-like we spent the next few hours wandering to the nearby beaches and a huge western shopping mall cut into the beachside cliff face. Finally able to check in we spent a lazy afternoon relaxing and catching up on a few hours sleep.

That night we decided to check out the local nightlife so after a few hostel beers and Pisco Sours (a local Peruvian drink made with pisco alcohol, lemon, sugar and egg white) we walked down to the main public area of Miraflores, Park Kennedy. We ate a late dinner at a local takeaway café and whilst eating we met an interesting local who went by the name Alex. He came and introduced himself in English and told us he was waiting for food then was going to a party in a nearby neighbourhood. Within seconds he’d invited us to come partying with him and said we could all share a cab together. Now for me and Claire this was enough for a few warning signals to start up as Lima has a reasonably bad reputation but before we’d managed to say anything Chris had drunkenly agreed. Claire and I managed to buy some time by making an excuse that we had to return to the hostel to get some stuff first. Here we had a huge fight about Claire not wanting to go out but also not wanting me to go and ‘be killed either’.

Eventually we agreed we’d both return so Chris wouldn’t be alone but under no circumstances would we get into a taxi with some random we’d just met. By the time we’d returned about half an hour later Chris and Alex were just leaving the café (having given up on us returning) and had scrapped the idea of leaving Miraflores anyway so turned out we wouldn’t have to get a cab anywhere which was a relief. Our first stop was a strange underground bar with a surprisingly high ratio of scantily clad women but before we’d even ordered a drink we were leaving after realising it was full of prostitutes!! The rest of our evening with Alex actually turned out to be pretty fun bar hopping to a few of local watering holes. He was a nice guy and I think was more in search of company than any other sinister motives. He bought rounds, danced salsa with Claire (who he insisted on calling Winona all night) and laughed the loudest when Chris drunkenly tried to dance Samba with the dancers at a Brazilian bar (which he also recorded on his phone).

The following day we had a lazy morning around the hostel before venturing downtown in the afternoon for some sightseeing and culture. As it was a Saturday some of the roads around the main plaza had been shut down for a variety of street performances and mini parades to take place. Following this we paid the 7 soles for a guided tour of the Franciscan Monastery founded in the 16^th century. Compared to many building we’d seen it was fairly unassuming from the outside but inside was another story. It contained Spanish tile mosaics graphically depicting the martyrdom of its earliest members, a Harry Potter style library, a Moorish wooden dome ceiling and most famously the catacombs. The catacombs were the city’s original resting place for residents until the opening of the Lima cemetery in 1808 although our tour guide assured us it was still used by the order for burial of their brothers. It is estimated to contain around 70 000 remains many of which had been exhumed and arranged into skull and femur patterns to keep the tourists coming. Somehow being surrounded by all this death led us into a conversation with another member of our tour group, a New Yorker, about death and organ donation. He was horrified at the thought of donating organs stating ‘what if you weren’t actually dead but just really lethargic’ and ‘what if they also take your soul’, we just decided to let it go through to the keeper as he obviously wasn’t worth arguing with.

That night we’d splashed out on concert tickets to see the one and only ROD STEWART. Not being the world’s biggest fans but figuring it was an opportunity not to be missed we’d bought the cheapest tickets and found ourselves well and truly back in the bleachers with Rod little more than a colourful speck in the horizon. Still for a fella of 66 and after doing it for over 40 years Rod still gives a good performance and belted out some of his (or more likely our) favourites including ‘Maggie May’, ‘Da Ya Think Im Sexy’ and even ‘Rhythm of My Heart’. During one song he even managed to sing and also kick about 30 soccer balls into the crowd. The only minor downside the evening was no ‘Young Turks’ and a pretty unimpressive one song encore. Still we walked away happy and decked out in layers of the unofficial Rod merchandise being sold out front of the concert including t-shirts (Chris bought two), headbands, badges and bookmarks. We topped the evening off with some late night Maccas then it was bed.

After another night of insufficient sleep we were up early and in a taxi to the airport for our flight to Cusco. As we arrived at Lima international our first sight was a hoard of young teenage girls waving placards and looking very excited. Of course Chris thought they were there to see him off but it soon became clear they were all eagerly awaiting the arrival of Justin Beiber who was playing a concert in Lima that evening. We went through the check in motions, ate some breakfast McDonald’s cheeseburgers (yep third visit of this blog), found our gate and prepared for the next leg – Cusco and the lost Incan city of Machu Picchu.

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Photos

The amazing sunset from Loki del Mar, Mancora
The Loki del Mar wasn't all party. We first got to enjoy this beautiful sunset from our balcony

The colourful remains of the Moon Temple at Moche
These colourful friezes were inside one of the temples five layers. Our guide told us she once spent an entire day working to uncover a 3 x 3mm section

The White Mountain of Moche
The Moche people worshiped the God of the White Mountain

The south wall of the Moon Temple
The south wall is sheltered from the wind so the friezes are still present. It's also the most recent of temple layers. You can also see there is a hole in the top centre of the wall. This is from grave robbers

A Peruvian hairless dog in Moche
We found this little guy hanging out near the entry to the Moon Temple. We were told their body temperature is higher than that of normal dogs so they were once used to help people with arthritis

Within the ancient ruins of the vast city of Chan Chan
Built by the Chimu people from 900-1470AD, after the Moche civilisation. The Chimu we eventually conquered by the Incas

The reed boats of Huanchaco
Originally used by the Chimu, these reed boats are still used for fishing in the tiny beach town of Huanchaco

Trujillo's bright cathedral on Plaza de Armas
One of the many colourful constructions around the main plaza in Trujillo, Plaza de Armas

Peru's highest peak, Huascaran at 6768m
An amazing view of Huascaran which sits at 6768m above sea level plus the long uphill path we were on to Laguna 69

Laguna 69
Our first view of Laguna 69 just over the crest where Claire almost had to give up

La Catedral de Lima
In downtown Lima's main plaza, Plaza de Armas. Originally built in 1555

Colourful street paraders in downtown Lima
When we eventually made it out of bed we ventured downtown where we stumbled across a youth street parade

Rod Stewart in Lima
Luckily there was a giant screen otherwise Rod would have been just a tiny speck on the horizon

Comments

[Michael Sibert]

Where is the picture of the blue lake
Well done Bernie ... Nearly as good as Claire's Good too see you guys arn't too old to party and travel