Andahuaylas - a little more than a layover

Erik: The small city of Andahuaylas is about halfway from Ayacucho to Cusco – an 11 hour bus ride over some of the bumpiest, most winding dirt road we'd yet experienced. It was impossible to read because of the constant jolts, but we were on a big, comfy bus this time, with reclining seats and even a bathroom aboard, which made up for some of the discomfort. (Though using the facilities during the bumpy, swerving ride was nearly impossible.) Again, the ride was incredibly beautiful, traversing many high mountain passes, and we passed several Inca ruins along the way. By now, though, we'd seen so much of this dramatic landscape that we no longer were wowed by the incredible views. Normally these longer rides will stop about halfway at some tiny eatery, but ours didn't, and we were very thankful that we'd thought to purchase empanadas and bananas for the ride. After 7 hours, we did have a quick stop in a tiny town where we could stretch our legs, and we were treated to a parade of school children in traditional clothing from all parts of peru. I've no idea what the parade was celebrating, but the kids loved the fact that we were watching and smiling and they screamed “hola, gringo!” and hammed it up for our cameras.

We arrived in Andahuaylas after 11 bumpy hours. It was early evening, and we were lucky to find a decent hotel just a couple of blocks from the bus station. After a mediocre roast chicken dinner, we retired and slept like babies...

Andahuaylas is a non-descript, mid-sized town. It's nestled in a verdant farming valley, and it was nice to see some green after all the dusty brown hill towns we'd been in. We spent one morning taking a trip to a nearby lake town and the ruins on hill above. Described as the “mini-machu picchu,” Sondor was very beautiful, perched high on a hilltop with incredibly scenic valleys far below. We were also the only visitors that day. There was a man who made us pay a small entrance fee and sign the visitor log book. In the book I noticed that the previous visitors had been there several days before. What did this man do all day? There were no offices nor anything modern at all there – just the ruins. What a strange life he must lead, wandering around the ruins, waiting for days for people to turn up...

We found a couple of fun places to eat – one snack shop specializing in burgers and “anticuchos” - cow hearts on a stick. We had both. The hearts were a little chewy, but good. We also found a little pizzeria – the only place open at 5pm before our night bus to Cusco. Lucky for us, as the pizza was both cheap and delicious – a nice treat before another 11 hour, bumpy ride.

Talor: That bumpy ride to Andahuaylas was CA-RAZY!! Ten hours going bumpity-bump seemed absolutely endless... can't read, can't sleep, can't do anything, but look out the window at the scenery, which was gorgeous, but after a few hours, seemed no big deal. Being so high up on the big bus, couldn't really see the narrow dirt mountain road we were traversing on so all you saw was how far you would fall if it ran off the road. And as it made hairpin turn after hairpin turn, my heart stopped more than once. When we arrived, all I could think was, “Thank God!” because it felt soooo good to be on non-moving ground. Said never again, but several days later, we were boarding another for Cuzco... OY!

To see Andahuaylas... http://picasaweb.google.com/erikandtalor/AndahuaylasPeru#

Hard to breathe in Ayacucho...

Talor: It is hands-down, the smoggiest city I've ever been in, and the noise pollution is out of control! Situated in a valley, somehow the smog from the way too many cars, buses and moto-taxis gets trapped in the center of the city, and it's hard to breathe. It wasn't so bad the first couple of days, but after that, it actually hurt our noses to go outside.

After the rusticity of the previous two villages, we were looking forward to more modern accommodations with a hot shower. We took a large double at the Hostal Yanez (above a 24-hour casino), with a nice firm bed, a TV and wi-fi (which worked only sometimes in the hallway). And the promised hot shower was never hot, but warm enough since the climate in the city was actually mild and comfortable. Strangely, on our last day, they put another twin bed in the room without telling us. What, did they think we wouldn't notice?

Anyway, this mid-sized city gets a lot more tourism so there was no shortage of fancy hotels and eateries, especially around the pretty Plaza de Armas. Unfortunately, the smog made walking around so unpleasant, we ended up holing up most of the time in our room after just a few hours outside. But we did manage to have a night out, which started out slow with drinks at a boring gringo bar then ended well at a lively pena where we drank piscos and danced to live music.

We also ate well... a yummy ceviche (raw fish pickled with salt and lime) at a restaurant with a pretty patio facing an outdoor garden; a fantastic parilla (mixed grilled meats), at a pizza shop no less, better than any we had in Argentina; and the best bread we've had in Peru. These little all-natural, pita-like pockets were baked fresh twice a day in an adobe wood-burning oven, and people would line up to buy bagfuls. Crunchy on the outside, light and airy inside, we actually waited in the rain to buy them. After eating them, we wished we had more.

But even the bread wasn't enough to keep us there. It had a lot going for it, but if only we could breathe! O well, onwards and upwards...

Erik: OK, so Talor talks about food, and I talk about transport. The ride to Ayacucho was an adventure. The only way to get there was via “collectivo” - 20-year-old minivans with luggage racks on top. How many people can fit into a minivan safely? With some squishing, normally I'd say 10 or so. We were 18 in total, and we picked up more along the way. One family was actually moving to Ayacucho, so they had all their earthly belongings with them, lashed up on the roof rack with our packs and everyone else's luggage. The poor minivan was desperately overloaded, and our driver was a speed demon on the tiny, winding dirt road weaving through mountain passes. I was mentally wondering to myself if our families would ever be notified after we plummeted off some ravine onto the rocks below.

Of course that didn't happen, but we did have an interesting game of chicken along the way. As we neared the city, a man ran in front of our van, frantically waving his arms for us to stop. The driver complied and we all sat there wondering why, when we saw a group of men pulling a very thick, taught rope struggle into the street and towards a larger truck parked across the road. Soon we saw the reason for the struggle – at the other end of the rope was an enormous bull, snorting and fighting the men tugging on the other end. They ran the rope through the back of the cattle-carrier, and started pulling the bull inside. The huge beast wanted none of that, though, and bolted towards the men instead. The rope had been lashed off to the truck, and the poor bull's own momentum threw it into the air and onto its backside when the slack ran out. I was worried for the poor animal, until it righted itself and I saw that the rope had snapped. Now there was a huge, very angry bull just a couple of yards in front of our van, and he was looking straight at us with no love in his eyes. Our driver was obviously scared, and put the van in gear and pulled away. The bull followed us a ways, seemingly ready to charge, and his horns would have easily pierced the thin metal walls of the van, but our driver gunned the engine and we escaped. I have no idea what became of that poor bull nor the men left defenseless in the street with the angry bovine.

As Talor said, Ayacucho itself was horribly polluted by noise and car fumes, and we had a bit of culture shock after being in several quaint mountain villages. At times we couldn't see more than two short blocks down the street because of the noxious black smoke. The central plaza, though, was quite pretty and seemed immune to the air pollution. It was dominated by a huge, ancient cathedral, and other 16^th century churches were scattered all around the center of the city. Still, we'd seen plenty of old churches on this trip, so were a bit blasé about their impressive architecture. The bread Talor mentioned was our favorite thing about the city, and rivaled some of the best parisian baguettes i'd ever had, but it was not enough to keep us there. We were still 22 hours of bumpy mountain bus ride from Cusco, and so after a couple of days were back on the road.

If you'd like to see our photos of Ayacucho... http://picasaweb.google.com/erikandtalor/AyacuchoPeru#

Julcamarca population 2,000...

Talor: As if Lircay wasn't small enough... our next stop was even smaller! This rustic village had just two hotels and two restaurants, but friendlier than Lircay. The 2-hour shared taxi ride left us at Plaza de Armas, where there was a party going on at the Municipal building to celebrate the education system. They motioned us over, handed us glasses of punch loaded with the local hooch, and welcomed us to their village... nice.

Settled into the Hotel Nazareth, where we got a large room with 3 beds, 3 chairs and a toilet in the courtyard, and running water for only several hours in the evening. Not exactly my idea of luxury, but all that for just $4. It was our cheapest accommodation yet! It even came with a pet parrot who Erik made friends with and played “pick up the corn” game with. Lunched at Super Gordo's on the usual 3 carbs of rice, potatoes and pasta then took a walk around the whole village, which took less than an hour. With not much else to do, sat in the park at the Plaza and watched as life went by.

Back at the Hotel, took a rest from our very rough day, then got washed up and ready to go out to dinner. We decided to give the other restaurant a try, where an old man had fried rice with salchichas (funny hotdogs) on the menu. We ate watching the rain outside and laughed when we saw a giant rat come in to get out of the rain. Afterwards, went back to the Plaza to take in the “nightlife,” which consisted of a mini-concert in the park, but not so much fun getting wet so we retired for the night in our room with a game of cards til lights out at 10:00pm.

Erik: once again the trip to Julcamarca was half the fun. The tiny toyota station wagon which the 6 of us were jammed into suffered up and up until we were well above the tree line. Again the high-mountain views were amazing, if tempered a bit by our cramped quarters. As we topped a summit and began the long, winding trip down, I asked the driver the altitude of the pass, which was nearly 5000 meters - over 15,000 ft.

Julcamarca was very cute, and very small – about 2000 inhabitants. Drinking powerful cocktails with locals while still carrying our packs was a nice welcome to town. Paying $2 each for our room was nice, too. After that the fun wore off, and we got bored quickly. We did meet some very nice, friendly people and some nice, friendly dogs as well, but one day was enough, so the next morning we were off for Ayacucho, a much bigger city about halfway to Cusco.

Our photos from Julcamarca:
http://picasaweb.google.com/erikandtalor/JulcamarcaPeru#

Something missing in Lircay...

Erik: From Huancavelica, we decided to continue on through the central Andes towards Cusco, the HQ city for trips to Machu Picchu, and the heart of the old Inca empire. Unfortunately, Cusco was a good 40-hour bus ride away. We asked around about some of the smaller villages along the way, and decided to split the long ride up into several segments, our first stop being the village of Lircay, 3-4 hours away along a small, bumpy dirt road. The excitement of the amazing mountain vistas along the way – peppered here and there by tiny villages or herds of llamas and alpacas - was mixed with a constant terror of the bus missing a turn and us plummeting off the narrow dirt road (with no guardrail) down the steep cliffs below. It was exhilarating and fatiguing at the same time.

Lircay, unfortunately, was not. It's a small, dirty town, and the people seemed more leery of us than curious. We were the only foreigners in town, as far as we could tell. After a day there, we did find the old center of town, which was much more appealing, and we did find some friendly locals as well, but by then we were ready to move on...

Talor: We were told by several people that Lircay was a very small, very pretty village not too far away. So we decided to give it a try and break up our long trip to Machu Picchu. A very bumpy 3 ½ hour bus ride (including a half-hour to fix a flat tire) later, we arrived in the late afternoon with a hotel recommendation from the tourist office in Huancavelica. Found the Hotel Arccara, which was very basic with two twin beds, but had a private bath (which we found out later is pretty rare in that village). It was none too clean, but for $10/night, what can you expect? Put our bags down and went to have a look around...

As usual, we got stared at by everyone, but this time, the vibe was a bit different, not as friendly. Walked around looking for the Plaza de Armas, usually the social center of each town where life revolves around, but found none. Then we realized that was what was missing. Instead, the center of town was made up of an assortment of shops and restaurants, and not too pretty, just dusty and drab. Wondered what all the rage was about and thought maybe this town is just too small. But we figured we were there so we should at least give it a chance.

The next day, asked around and found there was a Plaza de Armas. It was several kilometers away on top of a hill in a neighborhood called Pueblo Viejo (Old Village). Made up of ancient colonial houses and cobblestone streets, it was very pretty, and as always, we got carried away with our cameras taking way too many photos of old crumbling doorways and stone arches. At the Plaza, we got to see a really cute parade of school children dressed up in traditional clothes, and took more photos. Afterwards, we were spent... life on the road is tough! With not much to do or see after that, we decided to move on...

Our photos from Lircay can be found here:

http://picasaweb.google.com/erikandtalor/LircayPeru#

Dancing in Huancavelica...

Talor: I love Huancavelica! Aside from the altitude (at 3800m above sea level, I was still struggling with headaches) and the weather (freezing cold in the mornings and evenings), I've got nothing bad to say about it.

Huancavelica is a happy, prosperous city that seems to be growing rapidly. Major roadwork and building/housing construction going on made walking around a challenge at times, but all is good when you're constantly greeted with, “Hola Gringo! Hola Chinita! Bienvenidos!” (Welcome!) And welcome us they did with smiles, gorgeous mountain views, good food and comfort at the Hostal La Portada.

I knew it was all good when on our first night, after a really nice meal of pizza and pasta, we strolled around and saw a bunch of teenagers dancing in groups, what appeared to be folkloric dances, in front of churches and plazas. From then on, not a day went by without seeing dancing going on in one form or another, from an incredibly cute school dance competition to an amazing traditional scissor dance extravaganza. It's downright infectious so that we had to take ourselves to a pena to bust a move with the locals!

Situated in a valley, there were fantastic views of mountains everywhere and cool rock formations to flowing rivers and very rustic villages just a short “hike” away. Sheep, llamas and alpacas wander as freely as the dogs, some of which were the healthiest we've seen in Peru. And the kids were so adorable and always happy to pose and smile for the camera.

The food was hearty, filling and delicious! We ate lunch nearly everyday at the San Sebastian Cafe where they cooked up the best Milanesa (breaded beef patty), spaghetti in pesto sauce and yummy fish soup with lots of vegetables. We also had pretty good pizza and really delicious spinach ravioli at Pizzas Roma, the only pizzeria in town. And on Sunday afternoon, we lunched at Joy, a very popular restaurant just outside of town where they make the best Pachamanca (a local specialty of a variety of meats cooked with potatoes and vegetables in a dugout hole in the ground).

We treated ourselves well by checking into Hostal La Portada and taking their deluxe accommodation, which had a separate sitting area, scalding hot water in the shower and included a continental breakfast in their cafeteria just a hop skip and a jump away from our room.... aaaah, what luxury for $17 a night!

But the best part was when the very helpful Municipal Tourist Office put us in touch with Alberto, a local tour guide who took us around the city, and eventually became our friend. Life is good in Huancavelica...

Erik: Yes, Alberto was a great guide and became a good friend, as well as castellano (spanish) tutor. Our second day he led us on a tour of the town, giving us all the cultural and historical facts we could absorb. We were almost happy that the tour was cut short after 3 hours by a freak hail storm – our brains couldn't process any more spanish, though Alberto was always quick to provide us the english translation when needed.

The next day Alberto and I hiked up to the small village of Sacsamarca, about 2 miles up into the mountains. The town is built completely of volcanic stone and seems lost in time. I met many locals, including a curious alpaca, and a lovely store owner named Nicolasa, who showed me traditional thread weaving, herbal plants, etc. She also served Alberto and I a much needed cervesa. The town was so other-worldly and welcoming that I took Talor back there the next morning. (Nicolasa gave her the exact same demonstrations – her tourist routine, I guess.) We enjoyed spending time with Alberto so much that we went out Friday night to the pena with him and danced and drank the night away.

It's true that for a smallish town (population 40K or so), Huancavelica seemed to boast a parade, fair or other pubic event nearly every day – sometimes several times a day. While the kids there love to listen to western music and surf the net, they also seem very connected to and proud of their past, enjoying all that the ancient Quechua culture handed down to them – music, dance, traditions, etc. In all our travels through the Americas, this is the only place we found the youth so a part of their past. It was very heartening and refreshing.

Though we both really loved our time in Huancavelica, we agreed that we'd rather leave wanting more than wait until we grew bored of the small mountain town atmosphere. After a week, we felt ready to move on, even if we were sad to leave at the same time. We enjoyed the pueblo life so much, though, that we changed our very loose travel plans to continue a path through the other small mountain towns rather than descending back down to cities along the coast. The bus trip from Huancayo to Huancavelica had been so breathtaking, that I was hoping for more of the same...

For those with time on their hands, here is our vast collection of photos from Huancavelica: http://picasaweb.google.com/erikandtalor/HuancavelicaPeru#

Huancayo – getting there is more than half the fun

Erik: We'd chosen to go to Huancayo, high in the Central Sierra region of Peru, mostly because it was somewhat off the “gringo trail.” Our guide book described it as “a dusty frontier town which slowly grabs at you and endears you to stay.” Not much of a description, but then why not? When I found out that we could take a train ride there, that settled it for me. Too many hours crammed in buses, and ever since having left Europe, I'd missed the peculiar travel experience that is a long train ride. Little did we know, though, that the train took nearly twice as long as the bus, and cost 3-4 times as much! After much thought we decided to splurge and give it a shot anyway, and I'm glad we did. The ride was amazingly scenic, traversing high mountains and deep gorges. At one point the train had to climb a steep hill, and the turn-of-the-century engineers had come up with a series of switch backs, in which the train went forwards and backwards up 20 or 30 short strips of zig-zagging track to, in effect, go straight up the hill. Unfortunately sometimes these switchbacks happened in a tunnel, and our car would fill up with black, toxic diesel smoke. Oh well, nothing's perfect. We also got to get off and enjoy the view from the highest train station in the world – both Talor and I were a bit weak, dizzy and nauseous from the thin air there.

The train ride was fun, but we were very happy to finally arrive in Huancayo 13 hours later. We stumbled around the bustling, noisy downtown looking for a hotel – it was Friday night and the sidewalks were packed, and people were in no mood to make way for a couple of backpackers. Finally we found an out-of-the-way hotel, Hostal Plaza, with cheap, comfortable rooms, friendly staff, and the strongest, hottest shower we'd had in nearly our entire trip. What a relief after two long days of nearly non-stop travel.

Huancayo never did manage to pull at our heartstrings, though. It's a big city (400K or so), and very crowded, noisy, dusty and polluted. We took a few day trips out to local points of interest (convents, rock formations, etc.,) but always had to come back to that town of crowded sidewalks, blaring discotheques, and honking cars that would rather plow you over than slow down. To boot, every afternoon at about 2pm the clouds would roll over the surrounding hills, the winds would pick up, and we'd be treated to 2 or 3 hours of downpour. Before we learned the regularity of this atmospheric routine, we'd managed to get drenched and freezing nearly every vday. (Oh, did I mention that Huancayo is very high up and gets quite chilly at night?)

Still, all-in-all, I was happy to have made the trip there, though after a few days, there was very little encouraging me to stay.

Talor: The night before the train ride, we had to spend the night in Lima to board the train at 7am. We left the sun of Casma and arrived into the fog once again, but it was only for one night. Central Lima has a reputation of being very sketchy at night so we were really lucky to find the Hotel Presidente right on the square, just a couple blocks from the train station. Though it was pretty run down, it was a cheap and convenient option for the night. Took a walk to Barrio Chino (Chinatown) and found a restaurant serving curry... yum! Afterwards, grabbed a couple of pork buns and empanadas for our train ride the next day then went to bed.

The ride was very cool, but way too long even with the meal services (breakfast and a hot lunch, like they used to serve on airplanes... but better), and the games of bingo organized by the train staff. It was nice to get off finally, but we were exhausted (it's far more tiring sitting all day than being active) and we had the task of finding a place to lay our head... oy!

Spent the next few days getting to know Huancayo, checking out the different neighborhoods, but as E said, we weren't enamored. And though we had seen a bit of people begging in the streets in Lima, right around the center of Huancayo, there were always a lot asking for money, especially at night. They were obviously very poor, but we don't like giving money so we took to carrying bread and fruit giving whatever we had on hand. Found it a bit depressing. Plus I had a headache the entire time due to the high altitude. My body was not adjusting very well.

But we did manage to find a few bright spots... a Pena (live folkloric music venue) just down the street from our hotel where we drank warm, sweet pisco cocktails and danced with the locals. A visit to the cute little village of Concepcion where we found a very old, very cool monastery used by the missionaries to convert the indigenous but then had been turned into a convent and is now a museum with ancient art, an amazing library and... curiosity of all curiosities... a room full of taxidermy, animals and fish native to Peru. And for our last evening, we went to a nice quiet restaurant, which is hard to find in Huancayo because all of the restaurants, cafes and fast food joints are always blasting out loud music or televisions. We had a lovely meal of tasty burgers and a salad, managing to avoid the ever-ubiquitous rice and potatoes.

After a good night's sleep, we were ready to blow the dusty town and head to Huancavelica...

Our photos of Huancayo live at...
http://picasaweb.google.com/erikandtalor/HuancayoPeru#

(p.s. We somehow managed to lose a chunk of our photos... the day trips to Concepcion and to Torre Torre. When we find them, we'll put them up.)

Casma: Earth or Mars?

Talor:

Took a 7-hour bus ride to Casma, a small town (pop. circa 40k), on the Northern Coast of Peru. Along the PanAmericana Highway, we saw some of the strangest terrain... nothing but desert on one side and beautiful blue ocean on the other. Then we went through miles and miles of what appeared to be sand dunes, but yet we'd see an occasional farm growing Lord knows what in a desert that didn't appear to be able to grow anything. We thought, “What the hell?!” And wondered what we had gotten ourselves into. But halfway through we started to see the sun come out, and I wanted to jump for joy, but we were still on the bus so I just grinned like a fool.

Arrived into Casma in the late afternoon, and it felt so good to feel the sun on my face. Took off our jackets (the first time in three days!) then headed to Plaza de Armas (the center of town) just a few short blocks away. The first thing that struck me was the number of mototaxis (small, 3-wheeled, motorized coaches) driving in the streets and each and every single one stopped and asked us if we wanted a ride. Then we started seeing the stares... everyone, including the dogs, were watching us and smiling... from the very beginning we found the people super-friendly and curious, “Where are you from?” followed by “Why are you here?”

After checking out several different places to stay, settled into the Hostal Montecarlo where we got a nice room with a ceiling made of natural bamboo, a firm, comfortable bed and a view of the sand dunes in the distance. But when we took showers later in the evening to wash the dust off, we found the water pressure barely a dribble... o well, it's never perfect.

That evening, went out in search of food and though we were happy to see quite a bit of street food, it was cold, so we took a table at Cafe Eden, which was just down the street from our hotel with a menu del dia (a set meal usually with a hearty soup, a main dish of beef, chicken or fish served with rice, pasta and/or potatoes, and a homemade beverage) for only 4 nuevo soles ($1.33)! That's cheaper than anything we saw in Lima. And it was good!

Afterwards, walked around the center of town, taking it all in... children eating ice cream and playing in the park, old folks chatting with friends, and women cooking meat on a stick. Then a friendly guy came up to us, introduced himself as Renato, and asked if we wanted a guide to take us around to some of the oldest ruins in Peru. We thought why not and negotiated a fairly cheap rate ($17 for 3 hours including transportation in his mototaxi) and set a date for the next morning.

Over the next 3 days, we spent a lot of time with our guide, sightseeing and dining/drinking together. Though the ruins we visited at Seshin (the oldest in the Americas) and Chanquilla (in the middle of the desert with a fascinating calendar wall) were interesting, we enjoyed getting to know the culture of Casma and Peru, and as an added bonus, it was an opportunity to practice our Spanish.

Renato also introduced us to foods traditional to Peru and Casma, “cuy” (guinea pig) being one of them. Took us to a restaurant that specialized in it. I'm not normally squeamish when it comes to food, but I was really hoping it wouldn't be the cute, furry animal we had in grade school as a class pet. Went to the bathroom behind the restaurant to wash my hands, and saw them in cages... crap, wished I hadn't seen them! They are one and the same! And when the server brought it out deep fried whole then sauteed in a spicy red sauce, you could see the eyes, the mouth with teeth, paws, tails, everything... yikes! Couldn't back out at that point so had a taste of the leg, and damned if it didn't taste like chicken with hot sauce... huh. Was glad I tried it but have no particular need to eat it again, especially since there are a million teeny bones to pick through. Decided that chicken being cheaper and meatier is definitely a better value.

Casma does get a fair amount of tourism, mostly archaeologists and students from all over the world so we were curious as to why we should get such stares and smiles wherever we went. The stares probably because we do make an odd couple. I suppose even in the US, outside of the large cities, we'd probably get stared at too. But the smiles, as he explained it is that most foreign tourists who come to Casma come to see the ruins for an afternoon, a day, two days tops, and never socialize with the locals. They don't usually stop to chat, which is a real shame because no matter how interesting the land, I always find the people far more interesting. And the folks here are so friendly! Have a coffee and ask directions to anywhere and they'll not only direct you, but give advice on other points of interest and their history. I really enjoyed walking around and talking to people again... felt like I was back in the small towns of Central America, except I could understand them better.

Apparently, Peru is the place to learn Spanish in South America because they tend to speak purely without rolling words or dropping syllables. After feeling seriously dejected in Argentina because I couldn't understand a thing they said, then finding Chile just a little bit better, I breathed a sigh of relief here, and didn't feel so shy to engage people in conversation. Add to that the fact that I was able to run in the mornings, eat tamales again, which I had been missing since we left Central America, and the fact that they are serious about their spice made me feel very happy in Casma. But as with all good things, this also had to come to an end because we had a train to catch back in Lima...

Erik's entry:
Yes, Casma was a warm relief after Lima, in more ways than one – the sun, the people, even the dogs. What I remember most, though, is the dramatic landscape. Casma is entirely surrounded by desert, and yet is itself a lush, green valley where they grow every fruit and vegetable imaginable. Looming over the city, though, is one of the largest sand dunes I'd ever seen, several miles long and hundreds of feet high, constantly shifting with the desert winds. One of the ruins we visited was poised on the border of the desert and the green valley, and the contrast was striking – a nearly straight line separated total desert without a splotch of green and the lush agricultural valley.

We also took a day trip out out to the fishing-resort village of Tortugas. This town nestled on a tranquil bay would be an idyllic coastal fishing village, except that it, too, was smack in the middle of pure desolation, the only signs of life lying beneath the turquoise water. We were there in the off season and during siesta time to boot, so there was little human life to speak of as well, outside of a few napping fishermen.

Casma is one of those hidden gems that we're really glad to have found. There is very little to do there, though, except eat and visit the many ruins. We were sad when we had to leave for Lima, but I'm glad we did so before we got bored of the small, endearing town.

Too many photos from Casma:

http://picasaweb.google.com/erikandtalor/CasmaPeru#

Lima, City of Perpetual Fog...

Talor: Rolled into Lima in the late evening, and it was cold and dark. As we passed the usual crowded streets, fast food eateries and casinos on the main street, it seemed like any other large city. Exhausted from a very long day of travel, we found a comfortable enough room with a shared bath at the Hostel Malka in the pricey, but safe neighborhood of San Isidro. We passed out thinking, “Tomorrow is another day...”

Woke up to a gray day, and we were hoping for the sun to show itself, but that was not to be because Lima is covered by a perpetual fog 24/7, nine months out of the year and so everything looks drab and boring. Spent the first day walking around to orient ourselves, but it is a big sprawling city with lots of different barrios from the upscale to the very poor. And we were advised to take a bus or a taxi wherever we went since it's not particularly safe, especially in the evening. Headed in the direction of Miraflores because we heard it was a nice area by the beach, but all we found were very touristy, very pricey hotels, restaurants and gift shops.

The next day we thought we should give it another chance and got on a bus for downtown Lima. Found it crowded, dirty, noisy and stinky. Sound familiar? Despite the fact that I've lived most of my life in New York, after spending the better part of our travels enjoying small towns and villages, I am finding the large cities way too stressful for this petite delicate flower. Plus two days of sun deprivation was putting me in a mean mood so we decided to get outta dodge.

One kooky thing while walking around in Central Lima... we were approached several times by young kids who seemed to be wearing school uniforms, but had “Conquistador” on their sleeves. They gave us leaflets with information on how to find God on the internet by going to http://www.esperanzaweb.com/. As we entered into Plaza de Armas, there were literally hundreds of them walking around in groups of four and five with arms linked, eating ice cream and handing out these leaflets to everyone. After about the 14th time, I stopped tossing them, kept one and waved it at them anytime they came near us, and they reacted with shrieks of joy and laughter and gave us the thumbs up... was glad to make them happy, but the experience was a bit disconcerting.

We wanted to take the Ferrocarril (train), from Lima to Huancayo (a city in the mountains of Central Peru), which boasts the highest point in the world you can travel to on a train. But the problem was that there is only one every two weeks, and the next one wasn't leaving until Friday, six whole days later... ARGH! The thought of spending another six days in Lima was way too depressing so we decided to go up north to a small town called Casma. With very little information about it, we didn't know what to expect, but thought it's gotta be better than Lima...

Erik:
Yes, it's hard to imagine just how depressing the perpetual fog is. It's an eerie, greenish mist, half natural and half smog, I think. Cars are constantly honking everywhere you go, and they do not give way to pedestrians. Still, we did manage to find an excellent and friendly cebicheria in our wanderings, where we enjoyed an excellent cebiche mixto (raw fish and seafood in a lime sauce) and a superb grilled fish fillet. That meal seemed to lighten up a little yet another dreary day...

We didn't take many photos, just a handful... http://picasaweb.google.com/erikandtalor/LimaPeru#