Pearl #23 ~ Excerpt from Walking With Inkas

This is an excerpt from my travel blog, Walking with Inkas, and was originally written on May 30, 2006.


. . . continued from Pearl #22

After an hour and a half of sleep, I dragged myself out of bed to pack up and get ready for weekend activity number two: Ica. When I knocked on Jared's door, he chose sleep over travel, so I hailed a cab and headed off to the bus station to meet Brianna and Max without him. It was probably better that way, since our trip was very much of a "let's go to Ica and see what it's all about without any prior plans" type of trip. Jared likes to be more organized in his travels, and we probably would have driven him crazy with our approach to Ica. Not that we were completely spontaneous. Max and Brianna had taken care of the bus and hotel ahead of time, and we had some ideas about what we wanted to do.

About 3.5 hours south of Lima, Ica is the home of sandboarding, a sport my fellow adventurers and I were eager to try. Having snowboarded a couple of times in the last couple years, I figured my northern snow expertise would be well-challenged on the dunes of Peru. And when I say dunes, I'm not talking about the ones back home . . . not even the famous Indiana dunes that have achieved State Park status. These Peruvian mountains of sand rival the bluffs of the Mississippi river in height and make one think that the bus took a wrong turn and wound up in the Sahara!

As soon as we got off the bus, we were snatched up by Armando, our taxi driver for the day. I'm sure he was thinking he'd have a great day of driving if he could get these money-heavy gringos before anyone else, and he was right! We were prime targets, tourists without agenda looking for a little direction. Armando was just the guy to give us that direction. As he drove us to our hotel, a charming complex centered around a foliage-lined courtyard featuring an outdoor pool and restaurant, Armando pulled out brochure after brochure for various activities that we could enjoy during our overnight in Ica. He seemed particularly bent on showing us the bodegas, for which Ica is especially famous, and when we told him that we were interested in sandboarding, he had just the solution! It was only about 11:00 a.m., so he dropped us off at the hotel for an hour, drove off to make our sandboarding appointment for 4:00, and promised to return at 12:00 to take us to the bodegas. When he told us that the bodegas were free, and there would be a place to buy lunch, we were sold!

We went in and relaxed next to the pool for a little bit, commenting on how nice and sunny the desert air was, and wondering why we couldn't have the same kind of weather in Lima (it's often foggy here during the "winter", due to the cold air of the ocean clashing with the warmer coastal air). We decided it was for the better, since we're cooped up inside most of the week and wouldn't be able to enjoy such nice weather anyway.

But the weather in Ica was perfect! The sun was shining as we learned about the variety of wines and Piscos unique to this region, enjoying the samples at the end and purchasing souvenirs. The first bodega, Tacama, was more wine-focused, while the second was primarily Pisco. Both were very interesting, though. The second one was especially fun because of the other family on our tour! Anika had brought her 11-year-old son and his friend (same age) to Ica for the weekend, and they were just as inquisitive and energetic as 11-year-olds should be. Juaquin, a champion wrestler must be a handful for his mom, based on his climbing abilities (trees, grape press, you name it) and the questions he asked! Juan Diego was more stoic that his peer and lived up to the "caballero" (gentleman) quality of his name. Both were eager to try the Pisco at the end, though! Thankfully Anika only allowed them to taste the less potent samples.

From left (back), clockwise:  Me, Max, Anika, Brianna, Juaquin, Juan Diego

After the bodegas, we dropped off our purchases at the hotel before Armando whisked us off to our dune buggy! We climbed in, donned our helmets, and away we rode! Pretty soon our oasis had been shielded by the dunes and we had become true desert dwellers; for about an hour and a half. Our guide took us up and down, provoking girly shrieks from the . . . well . . . girls in the back of the buggy. Max remained more composed, but I bet he was shrieking within.

We stopped near the top of one dune for a photo opportunity, and Brianna and I reveled in our ability to make sand angels, thereby inaugurating the first official Desert Sand Angel Club, a sister club to the official Bikini Snow Angel Club that was started by yours truly almost two years ago at the top of a miniature Swiss Alp. New members are always welcome, please leave a comment if interested. :)

From there we were taken to our sandboarding dune. To my surprise, sandboarding was easier than snowboarding. This is probably due to the lack of winter clothing, the increased friction between board and surface (making it easier to control), and my own natural sandboarding expertise. Riiiiiiight. We actually only got to go down the hill a couple of times on our feet, since our guide made us get a feel for it by sitting down first. So I guess you could say I sand-sledded, too. That was actually more fun than sandboarding when Brianna and I teamed up and double-sledded! With both of our weight combined, we flew down those dunes, and had a pretty artistic wipe-out at the end of the first try!

By the end of the day, we were wiped out ourselves! We said goodnight to Armando and headed back to the hotel to relax over some local wine and taqueños (cheese-filled tortillas dipped in guacamole) so that we'd be all ready to go the next morning. We decided to check out Huacachina, the neighboring oasis that we'd read about in our guide book. When we got there, it was just as an oasis should be: A little pond surrounded by palm trees plunked in a valley of sand. A little town has grown up around it, and there was something in the book about a 200-year old hacienda. But from what we could see, there wasn't a whole lot to do. At least not that we were willing to spend money on that day. More sandboarding seemed to be about it, and we decided that as fun as that sounded, we were not up for trekking up the colossal dunes just to slide down again. We decided that we'd be better able to appreciate Huacachina the next time around. We still have to see the famous Nazca lines (mysterious sand etchings attributed to ancient cultures of Peru), so we'll be returning to the region in the future.

We returned to Ica in a very sketchy, and exciting, three-wheel scooter with a shell (that's about the best way to describe it). We'd seen, and heard, plenty of these things roaming the streets of Peru, but never thought we'd actually be in one! Let alone fitting three people (and Max is tall!) with their bags, albeit small ones. Nevertheless, it was the only thing heading out of Huacachina, and at three soles (less than a dollar) for the five-minute ride, it definitely wasn't a bad deal. We hopped on the bus and began the 3.5-hour trek back to Lima.

Brianna getting into the three-wheel scooter with a shell

Ahh, another Peruvian story come to an end. Sorry for dragging it out so long, but I figure those of you that want to skim through it can, and as for the rest of you, details are what make the story what it is! Besides, I had a lot of time to kill at work today. My computer's Microsoft programs are acting up, making it difficult to work on my Access project. They're getting it fixed, but I was glad to have some extra time this afternoon to catch up on my communication from home after the three day weekend.

Tomorrow I'll be out of the office all day, getting trained for election observing this Sunday. They sent out an email asking for volunteers, and I thought this would be a great opportunity to learn more about the culture and politics of this country. It's an interesting time to be here, as there's a lot of tension and uncertainty regarding the two candidates running for office. Alan Garcia, a the more democratic of the two, is more in line with the U.S., which may or may not be a good thing. Ollanta Humala, on the other hand is an ex-military socialist that heavily appeals to the poor of the nation (of which there are many) and asserts that he will put an end to the corruptive politics that have plagued the country for decades.

It's hard to say who is the better (or worse) candidate. As we were driving to Ica, the road passed several poor towns, and it was not uncommon to see Umala's name graffitied on the crumbling walls of buildings. The same is true for Lima, except that Garcia is the more popular choice. But despite the active voices for one candidate or another, the vote is still very uncertain. I hope to learn a lot from personally observing the process, although I'm very uncertain as to what that will entail. In any case, I can't help thinking of the upset that occured after the Madrid bombings while I was in Spain two years ago followed by the Bush/Kerry election just a few months later. Seems that politics are everywhere I go, and by jove, I think that my little Liberal-Arts-turned-Business brain is being reoriented yet again. This girl's going political!

But not before she gets dinner. You guessed it, it's the end of another day, and the (real) end of another blog. Hope you're all enjoying the nice summer weather I hear tell of in the northern hemisphere. Continue to keep in touch, I love to hear from you! And to the newest Costa Rican girls of Deltasig and Anna, thank you for my first two pieces of snail mail! They arrived at the Embassy today and are hanging on my cubicle wall. Suddenly I've got a little ownership in this cubby hole of mine. Printer-people may come and go, but I'm here to stay (until July, that is)!

Have a great day, all. Ciao!