Heaven Must Be Brown
February 4th 2009 I can skip over Nazca, the mysterious pre-Inca lines and a dis-heartening bus ride to Ica, because now I see it all as the path which led me to Huacachina.
Again, I find a lack of words to describe a place which now only exists in my dreams, however Huacachina deserves mentioning, at the least.
A short taxi ride from Ica and you enter the small village, where everybody knows each others busi
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