As I promised, we are now back in Ica and ready for the next part of our 2012 Peruvian Adventure. My incessant writing about Peru must have everyone tired by now. However, it seems my fondest memories always take me back to Peru. So, here we go again. When I tried to remember all of the events, on this trip, I found a few blanks. Somehow my photos did not completely align with my memories. And as usual in a situation such as this, I invariably look to Deysi to help fill in blanks. She remembers some details much better than I do. I remember others. Inevitably, our memories will clash. At a time like this, my memories prevail. That is, with some small concessions to her. After all, I am the poet!

For this next article, I am going to focus on the few days that we had in Ica, after returning from the bowels of the Andes. As usual, on our vacations, the days were long and hectic. Each packed full of sights and adventures. This time was no exception. After arriving in Lima, jamming a lot of sightseeing into two or three days, we had then travelled, a bit farther south. To a part of Peru that we had not previously explored in great depth. Once there, we had dumped our bags and, almost immediately, pointed ourselves into the Andes Mountains, in search of Deysi’s family. That one day of adventure had been long, exciting, exhausting and yet, thrilling. We packed a lifetime of memories into that first day. Now we were back in Ica, for a couple days of unwinding.

And as anyone that has ever travelled with us knows, Deysi’s version of resting, was anything but. The next morning, after our return from deep in the Andes, we were once again in the exploration mode. We headed for the centre of Ica, and met up with Deysi’s sister Lene’. By now she had, had time to locate their cousin from Laramate, and was well on the way too organizing a grand reunion. As it turns out, they had numerous family members, also living in Ica. Much of their family had left the Andes over the years to resettle in Ica. We started at the main plaza, to see what this city was all about.

On arrival at the centre of the city, we saw, squatted in the most visible place, the main square or plaza. The “inevitable” Catholic Cathedral sat off one corner. It was magnificent. This time, the presence of a church did not set Jimbored into a fit of cursing. I had long since given up voicing my opinion on that matter. However, I will add, that no amount of “browbeating” from Deysi or her sisters could keep me from thinking my thoughts. By now, I had reconciled myself to just muttering quietly, to myself, as we passed. A Spanish Conquistador had “officially” founded, the city, in the mid 1500’s (the pillaging bastard). However, Lene’ explained that the indigenous peoples of Peru, have lived in this area since 700BC.

The Paracas peoples, first inhabited this area. Later came the Nazca, and finally the Chincha peoples up to the time of the Inca, around 1480. The Inca people ruled the area until the arrival of the cursed Spanish in the early 1500’s. The Spaniards scooped up all the gold and treasures they could find, in each place, and sent them to Spain. Then “crapped” out a Catholic Church to oversee and control the morals of the locals. Ica was no different. The one thing that I noticed early in our visit, was that none of the buildings were multi level structures. Later, I realized that this was due to the fact that Ica lay in the heart of an earthquake zone.

We strolled around the city centre. It was very clean and well maintained. Most of the buildings were painted in a bright yellow (or possibly gold) color. It was beautiful. The weather was sunny and warm. Ica has one of the best climates in Peru. It is located at the top end of the Atacama desert, not far from the ocean. Additionally not far from the edge of the Andes mountains. Summers are warm, and winters are mild. The location is perfect for producing fruit and vegetables. Crops such as grapes, mangoes, olives, cotton, avocado, oranges, blueberries, peppers and asparagus, thrive. The area is fed from an underground aquifer, that supplies water to the city and surrounding farms.

Not long after our arrival to the main square, Deysi’s and Lene’s cousin, the teacher from the Andes, arrived to meet us. He was very happy that Lene called him. He had also invited two of his sister’s and their children to meet us. It was a great reunion. Soon I had the camera out and took everyone’s photo. We strolled around the city centre for an hour or so. As we walked, the cousin, updated the history of the family from the Andes. At some point the idea of food came up. We agreed to go to a local restaurant, famous for typical food of Ica. I cannot remember, exactly what I ate, but something like a mixed platter of ceviche and fried fish. I point this out, only, because of how it passed through my stomach, later that night.

That day in Ica was highlighted by a hotel move. We had spent the first two nights near the centre of Ica. By mid afternoon we were checked into a different hotel and ready to see what it was all about. As I said earlier, the hotel LAS DUNAS was a very expensive resort hotel, paid for by our girl Ron. I will try to remember just what the resort included. However I know that I will miss much of the ambience of this place. The main entrance and lobby, were in a separate Colonial Spanish style building. This was the hub of the resort. Surrounding this hub were three swimming pools, a couple of bars, two or three restaurants, a children’s daycare area, an auditorium. They were all first class. I will let the photos fill in my descriptive blank spots.

The hotel consisted of villas. Each villa containing 4 rooms. They spread out, around the grounds, like a fan. Starting from the main lobby/entertainment area and stretching well into the substantial grounds. Each Villa consisted of two floors, two rooms on the ground and two above. We stayed in the upper floor of our assigned villa. I must add that it was really nice. It ranks within the top ten places we have stayed in over the 35 years of our international travel. This place was fabulous! JimboRed had finally arrived! No more 3 star accommodations for me. I am now going “first cabin” for the rest of my stay. Thanks Ron.

The rest of the 50 acre resort contained lawns and gardens which offered, golfing, horse back riding, sand dune rides, sand skiing, biking, a farm, and lots of other recreational activities. It was without doubt a Peruvian paradise. There was even, a private golf course inside the resort. Alas, poor ol’ JimboRed would not have the free time to play on it. However, I did walk around it and dream. One feature that did catch my eye, was on the north border of the property. It was a huge sand dune, like a mountain. It had all sorts of warning signs about “skiing” it, at your own risk. Truthfully, the thought of climbing a thousand foot mountain and skiing down it, had never entered my mind.

The resort also had lots to participate in. At night there was live entertainment, games and prizes. Our nieces Mari and Ana joined us for the first evening of festivities. They were both lovely Peruvian beauties, and did not have any problem hanging with the old folks. The first evening, the entertainment was outside and consisted of a dinner, drinks and games of chance. One of these was Trivia and another BINGO. The games, paid out Monopoly money to the winners, of each event. Prizes were then awarded based on the amount of winnings accumulated. Deysi and the girls were real good at it, and soon had $3,000,000 (pretend money) gathered up. We thought we were well on our way to a major prize. Come to find out that the smallest prize needed about a $15,000,000 win! Oh well they tried!

The next morning came soon enough. Wow, JimboRed’s Birthday had arrived! Great, now for some partying! Yup you guessed it. No sooner had I woke and was waiting for the festivities to start, when Deysi, kicked my butt out of bed and told me to get ready for another sightseeing adventure. “Get your stuff, get down to the lobby and wait for me.” My plans for a day at the bar, were dashed. So there I was sitting in the lobby, looking like a tourist, with all my gear, waiting for my leader to appear. I’m not saying anything negative. However since the time of our marriage, I had spent, the equivalent, of maybe two full years of time, exiled from a room, waiting for Deysi to get ready and start my day.

Where to this time, you might ask? Apparently in Peru, very near where we were, lie a small group of islands, somewhat like the Galapagos Islands off Ecuador. They were the Ballestas Islands. We would celebrate my Birthday there. I might mention here, albeit a little indelicate, that for the past few hours, my stomach had been trying to turn itself inside out, and purge everything I had eaten or drank for the last year, or so, out of my system. Including the meal of the previous day. Nothing cleans the old stomach lining, like a good case of the Inca Two Step. The last place I wanted to be, at this point, is on a boat going to look at where the birds crap! Deysi had a lot of sympathy. It went like this, “come on you weak gringo, suck it up and get moving!”

So that is indeed, what we did. We hired a driver to take us about 50 km from our hotel to the beach at a place called Paracas. Over the years, since then, we had managed to visit this place a few more times. The islands were only a few miles, offshore. Thank God. Not 600 hundred miles offshore like the Galapagos. I can guarantee, without question, JimboRed would not have survived, a 600 mile boat ride, in the condition my stomach was in. Anyway, suck it up I did. I may have whined a bit, but mostly just to myself. We arrived at Paracas, climbed into one of many tour boats, along with a few hundred other tourists. And magically we are off to see something that I never have imagined, existed.

Each boat held about 30 passengers. They appeared like taxis at an airport. They left in a steady drone of motors, one after another. At the same time others were arriving and disgorging their passengers. Only to line up again for loading a new group. I was amazed that so many people knew of this place and I had only heard of it vaguely. We boarded. Myself very gingerly, I might add. Every muscle in my body was tensed up. I looked something of a robot climbing into the boat and quickly taking a seat. And with a roar, we were off. Had there remained even one seed of rice in my stomach, as we pounded into the surf, it would have been sprayed all over this boat.

Away we went bouncing across the clear blue surf and headed into the Pacific Ocean. I think the journey was not longer than about 5 km’s. But on this day, felt much more. An aura of excitement filled the boat. A tour guide stood at the front explaining to us where we were going and what we would see. Cameras were clacking, and high pitched laughter filled the air. Deysi was in good spirits. Her stomach was fine. She was ready for adventure. Part way out to the Ballestas Islands we slowed to look at a figure etched into the sand on the side of a mountain. It was a curious sight. Standing there in the ocean, on the side of the peninsula. Posing majestically 700 feet long and 400 feet wide, 2 feet deep into the sand. Seemingly, for no purpose.

At this point, the tour guide explained that there was, still, no explanation of what this figure represented or how it got there. He added that some suggested it was the symbol of the Knights Templar organization. Placed there by some zealots in the late 1800’s. Others said it was a candelabra. Some speculated that it was a navigation aid to early voyagers and pointed the direction to the open waters of the Pacific. However, he also added that no one knew for sure. The locals say it is a “lightning rod” of their god Viracocha. Indeed, there were pottery shards dating back to 200BC, found in the area.

My personal opinion was that a group of ancient revellers, most likely, some drunken teens, decided to etch their own form of graffiti into the sand. Thereby leaving their mark, forever. Walking or hiking in this area was prohibited. Many years later when returning to this area, it was still undecided what was represented here. Or for that matter, even when it was created. We paused here a few minutes to enjoy this mystery. Soon we were back on course to visit the Ballestas islands, looming in the distance. Immediately we started to pick up signs of life. Birds came zipping past. Looking for a target to unleash some guano on.

We had arrived. I had no idea what to expect. However, this was Peru and I knew it would be spectacular. Our first glimpse was stunning. You had to give your head a shake to absorb the shear magnitude of what you were seeing. Incredibly, laid out in front of us was a vista that stretched the imagination. Without a doubt, Ol’ JimboRed had never seen anything like this. In front of us and covering one side of the main island, were a million birds. They shrieked, screamed, cackled and hooted at us. The noise was overwhelming. The smell of bird crap was, if anything, worse. The boat was bobbing up and down, the cacophony was crazy, the birds were zipping by us. I was stunned. However, I still managed to take a few hundred pictures.

While our boat floated around, the guide told us the story of the Islands. No human was allowed to set foot onto this sanctuary. Both of us were lost in a dream. That day, incredibly we would see more birds than we had previously seen in our entire lives. Not only that, but the most amazing array of sea life inhabited these waters. Obviously it made some sense. The Humboldt Current brought the plankton to this area. Of course the fish came to eat it. Then birds came to eat the fish, followed by the bigger mammals, who could eat anything. Everybody crapped, and then the humans came to clean it up and sell it. And who said that you couldn’t sell bird crap off a rock?

The guide told us, every 4 years, a contract was given out for the harvest of guano. Apparently, it went to one company. They were allowed 6 weeks to come to the island and scrape the guano off the rocks. Why, you might ask? Well it seemed that guano was a key ingredient of both fertilizers and gunpowder. Unbelievably, during their 6 week harvest they could remove approximately 8000 metric tonnes each time. The rest of the time no one was allowed onshore. That is, except for a ranger stationed here to ensure no damage was done to this fragile ecological zone, by humans. Undeniably, It must have been a deaf ranger that they posted here. The noise was insane.

We spent an hour or so, moving up and down the island. My camera never rested. When my fingers and eyes grew tired, then Desyi took over. Later, when we were reviewing our pictures, I remember her saying, “I took that one, I took these also, that blurry one was yours,” etc. Amazingly, she never took one bad photo, only the good ones. There was never a bad photo-op. Life could be found on every rock, in the water, on the beaches, hanging off cliffs and anywhere you chose to point your camera. Each one of them dependent on another in the food chain. Other tour boats jockeyed for position alongside of ours. We bobbed and weaved in and out of the boats trying to get the best view. The weather was hot and the sky blue, as is common in Peru.

Something interesting that I noticed, was the congregation of most birds in different groups according to species. I would guess it was instinctive. Although, there was some mixing of birds inside of other groups, it wasn’t very much. It seemed like each type of bird preferred the company of their compatriots. I also felt that the food sources were so abundant, that there did not appear to be much dissension amongst the different species. They all just seemed to go about their business with little attention paid to their neighbours. I guess it all appeared to be in harmony, notwithstanding the cacophony created by each one’s attempt to communicate. All in all, a very idyllic setting.

The rock structures, carved by the sea were magnificent. There were caves, tunnels, arches, spires and cathedral shapes dotting the water all around us. Tour boats weaved a pattern in and out of these formations. Of course, each of the structures was covered in its own layer of birds. Sea life clung to the walls. Shellfish was abundant and there for the picking. Incredibly, even with millions of birds around, there seemed to be plenty of food leftover. By now we had skirted the shoreline, in some form of interlinked dance with the other boats, for over an hour. Unfortunately it was time to go. After all, how many birds can you look at in one day. Reluctantly, and with a kind of melancholy we bade farewell to this place. Undoubtably, another of the most spectacular places we have visited.

At long last we landed. Not one minute too early for my stomach After climbing gingerly out of the boat I made a quick sprint for the “facilities”. As always we spent some time looking around the beach town of Paracas. It lay sprawled along a sand beach, bordered by clear blue waters. Without question as nice of a beach side town as you could find. At this time in 2012, the major companies had only just started constructing the huge resorts, that we found here 4 years later. I must add that like many other places in Peru, this area provided some sights as enchanting and mysterious as you will find anywhere. Never had I seen anything like this. Why do I sound surprised? Finally the day was over.

Finally we were back. We had spent the whole of my birthday touring the Paracas area and the Ballestas islands. It goes without saying that Jimbored was beat. We dumped our gear and then Desyi bought me a birthday cocktail at the pool. My stomach had recovered enough, by now, too finally relax. But hold it, we are not done yet. That evening, the resort entertainment was inside in a big theatre. By this time JimboRed was already full of adventure, food, drinks and fun. Additionally, he had just survived a bout of the Inca Two Step. My birthday was over. I “tapped out”. Not so Desyi. She called her nieces, put on her party clothes and was soon gone in search of entertainment. So, I remained in the room while Deysi and the girls went to watch the show.

Armed with their millions of Monopoly $ from the previous night, off they went. The sound of YMCA, reverberated through the resort. They said it was good, with lots of singing, dancing, and acts. I can’t verify that for sure, so we’ll just have to take their word for it. They were gone for a long time. The music bounced off the walls, however within minutes JimboRed was asleep. From what I was told, the entertainment was first class. They had a “boy band”, chorus line, dancers, acrobats and more. My god I’m happy I went to bed. Later, after the festivities were done Desyi crawled back to the room, full of soft drinks and partying. Finally sated, she collapsed on the bed. She had started her day early and then partied into the night .

On what turned out to be our final full day in Ica, we took the opportunity to visit more of Deysi’s and Lene’s relatives. This time Lene’ took us to visit some cousins and second cousins of the family. They were the offspring of one of Deysi’s mother’s, brothers. This family owned a store in Ica and lived adjacent to it in a home. Desyi’s cousin was so happy to meet her. All the girls shed a tear on meeting. Gosh, they even had Ol’ JimboRed feeling tender. The cousin’s son was a poet, songwriter, balladeer, and writer of children’s books. They called him Marco Polo. He indeed had some talent.

He later sang a ballad, that he composed, for his grandfather from Laramate. It was a sad tale. In typical, Peruvian fashion, it tore at your heartstrings. I don’t know why Peruvians all try to make JimboRed, cry with their music, however they always do. Because, from what I understood, about this song, someone had stole his dog, and/or his wife, his horse and his lunch. It was mournful and at the same time beautiful. I don’t see Benhameen composing a song for his old granddad, me, in the near future. We stayed for a part of the afternoon. Their cousin was very happy to have seen them, and ultimately sad to see us leave. However, we needed to close out our journey to Ica and get ready to move on.

Finally, that evening, everything seemed calm. The birthday party was over, the tour was complete, and we had visited everyone. That was until 1:10 AM on the morning of January 30th. I woke up to the bed sliding, the walls shaking, and Desyi yelling for me to “get up and get out!” “terremoto TERREMOTO!” She was shouting! I flop out onto the floor, the room is moving, everything is shaking, I’m scrambling for the door. Before I can figure out what is happening, Deysi is now yelling, “put some clothes on, put some clothes on!” Back in I go, throw on some clothes and meet Desyi exiting our room as cool as a cucumber. The building is still violently shaking. My god was it scary. Somehow it’s like nothing you will ever experience. The feeling of helplessness is overwhelming.

And if you think my stomach had already purged itself of everything in the last few days? Then you are wrong. Anything left behind by the Inca two Step was now purged once more. In a moment I was back inside and in the bathroom. Now, Desyi is yelling at me to get out, people are hollering and screaming, yet I am stuck to the toilet. Then, once more I was back outside. My heart was beating at about 200 beats. I’m sure that I was trembling. I had not been this scared since the time 35 years earlier when we had an earthquake in the Andes where Desyi and I lived. Anyway we headed towards the hotel lobby. All the other guests were congregated on the pool deck in lawn chairs.

Staff had started to hand out towels and blankets. There were no lights or power in the resort. Workers could be seen scurrying around. Coffee and drinks appeared from out of nowhere. The atmosphere was tense. Almost as soon as we sat down, we were identified and lead into the hotel. Desyi’s nieces were on the phone and had somehow got thru to the hotel, within minutes of the earthquake happening. I say minutes, however, I am not sure of the passage of time. They wanted to know how we were, what we needed and where they could help. Ana, got on the phone with a staff member and very firmly instructed her on how we were to be treated! I did not stop shaking for hours.

There was no question, that Ana was undeniably in charge. As if by magic, we were immediately lead to a new ground floor room. Emergency lighting was now on, they brought us food and water, and arranged to have our belongings moved to this new room. The other guests were still in the pool area, huddled in blankets, on lawn chairs. Unquestionably, it was our nieces calling and taking charge, that had us normalized very quickly. Immediately Desyi started to work on transport out of the area. The explanation, was that, no one knew, the severity of the earthquake. And additionally, what it might do got the infrastructure and transport in the area.

We did not want to be caught in the middle of another disaster such as they experienced in 2007. Additionally, at the time we had no way of knowing how bad the devastation was. Nor what could possibly happen during the next few hours. Occurrences like aftershocks or additional earthquakes were very common, in the days following such an event. And there was no way of knowing how bad they might be. “Fight or flight” mode, kicked in. JimboRed chose to FLEE! Lene’ took one final shot at Ol’ JimboRed. She stated that it was the earthquake that caused the loosening of my bowels, not the food. She said the my weak gringo constitution was the real cause. We boarded a bus and like a dream, we were in Lima later that day. Like a phantom, it was soon, all a memory.