Tuesday, 17 November 2009

Huachachina, Wild camping and Adios Pisco!





We have had a great time over the last two weeks getting involved in some really good projects as well as a couple of fun weekends away. Leon rose to great heights as the man responsible for the concrete mixer. We were also more involved with the Miracle project bamboo house which is almost ready for the family to move back in. We have really enjoyed our time in Pisco and can´t wait to return in spring to see how all the projects have moved on.


We had a fantastic weekend of play at Huacachina, a touristic oasis of beautiful sand dunes, sand buggying, boarding and chilling round the pool with the now ubiquitous pisco sour! After visiting the grotesque and fascinating Ica museum full of mummies, exquisite textiles and trepanned and deformed skulls, we made it to Huacachina in time to catch the sunset from the tallest dune while sipping a cold Cusquena beer! Ahhhh, what pleasure! The sand buggying was a terrifying rollercoaster ride through the desert where we were lucky not to lose the tasty English breakfast (complete with BACON) that we had eaten hours earlier. We also tried our luck at sandboarding, but it proved to be far more difficult than anticipated due to the horrendously dodgy equipment (i.e. a cracked plank of wood with two knackered velcro straps. Leon bailed so hard he managed to tear both his trousers and his underpants in one go!



Our last weekend in Pisco was spent wild camping in Paracas with some fellow PSF goons. It was all going so well until a gust of wind blew our tent into the sea (next time we must remember to weigh it down with rocks or bags!) Thankfully, due to Leon and Mark´s lightning fast reflexes and fearsome bravery to run into a pitch black sea the tent was recovered with no major loss or damage. The rest of the evening was spent playing guitar round the campfire and admiring the star lit sky. Most of us managed to make it to our tents that night, though two of our exhausted fallen comrades fell asleep by the campfire and woke up to find their breakfast mango nibbled by the local desert shrews! The next day we feasted on freshly caught crabs having used the tried and tested method of poking them with sticks from under their rocks while getting very wet from the sea spray. We were also delighted when the local pedestrian ice cream peddler showed up unexpectedly just in time for dessert. It was a wonderful way to end our time in Pisco and reminded us all that this region, despite the disaster, has so much to offer.


On Monday we bid our sad farewells to our PSF family and headed forth into the mountains. Normally, most backpackers head south to Nazca, Arequipa or north to Lima. However, we were feeling a little more adventurous and decided to head east into the mountains of the Central Sierra, a still rarely visited region due to the Shining path terrorism that plagued this area during the 80´s and 90´s. We boarded a night bus to Huancavelica full of excitement but our enthusiasm soon turned to ass clenching terror as the bus snaked along what can only be described as a Peruvian road of death! At one in the morning the bus ground to a halt. As the only gringos on the bus, Leon hopped off to find out what was happening. Unfortunately, we were unable to continue due to a small landslide on the road. Thankfully, some locals turned up with shovels and managed to clear the road after a three hour delay. As the sun rose we were treated to spectacular mountain scenery including a snowy overpass at 4850 m. We arrived in the gorgeous mountain town of Huancavelica a little short of breath, but we soon acclimatised with the help of some amazing cake and coca tea. We were delighted to find that we seem to be the only gringos here and that the town is almost purely indigenous. The Andean women wear the traditional coloured shawls, long skirts and black hats. The locals seem curious by our presence and have been very welcoming and friendly. Tomorrow, we intend to visit the nearby hot springs to soothe our aching muscles after our month of hard labour.

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