PERU AGAIN YEAR 2000, WILL THE FUN NEVER STOP – PART I

My next post is a collection of memories and photos, from another visit to my favorite place. Peru! This time we were lucky enough to have our friends, from Japan, California, NZ, and Philadelphia, with us. Over the years we had, together, managed to find many occasions to explore unique spots in this world. Our friends had a boy, we’ll call Rosco, who was near the same age as Ange. Ol’ Rosco was a very adaptable guy, and could be play as rough and tumble as the next guy. He could just as easily, have a rousing round of dolls, when it was Ange’s turn to choose. Him and Ange were fast friends. His parents were the Kiwi and we’ll call his dad, C. Luckily, we were both “free” from work at the same time, so Deysi decided to show us, Peru.

As was usually the case, when making these trips, Deysi did almost all of the prep work. This time, however, she had the Kiwi to plan it with. Like us, our friends were avid travellers. For this reason, they jumped at the opportunity for Deysi to show them Peru. For my part, I needed no coaxing to return to Peru. After all, I had discovered, a part of my life there, in the Andes mountains, in the ’70’s. In a lot of ways, my heart remained there always. For this trip, we travelled from Scotland, while our friends were to meet us from the DC area of the USA. And like clockwork it all happened. Within hours of each other we landed in Lima, Peru. As always, Ange was with us.

Ron, to my surprise, turned down another opportunity to bond with her parents. She was looking forward to an empty house, and not having us in her face, constantly. She was, at this point, fully immersed in study at the University of Edinburgh. Additionally, she was starting to form a social circle, as well as, having secured some summer employment in Edinburgh. She was quite expressive in her rejection of our invitation. I think it went like, “nnnaaahhh, you kidding, right?” Therefore, leaving her, to fend for herself, off we went.

As I have said, we all arrive in Lima, Peru about the same time, in late July, 2000. Of course, we were pumped to see the sights. The kids, perhaps not, But they were happy to see each other, and “put up” with us old folk. One of my very first memories, is of our first meal in Peru. I just had to take them to eat Peruvian, and my favorite restaurants were on the beach. It was in Peru, where I developed a lifelong love of seafood. And the beach at Miraflores, provided many of my favorite eating places. The most favorite being, the Restaurante Costa Verde, where many years earlier, I had eaten the turtle (Tortuga). It no longer exists, but there were many other fine places to feast. Many of my earliest memories of Peru, had to do with food, or drink.

We managed to find seating in La Rosa Nautica restaurant, right on the beach, at Costa Verde. Remember, it was August, therefore winter in Peru. The weather, on the coast, was a bit overcast, but the temperature was still warm. Although it was winter, there were still a smattering of beach goers dotted along the coast. For us, arriving from Scotland, it was warm and humid. We had window seats looking out onto the Pacific, and we were excited, looking forward to the trip ahead. As always, I was trying to force everyone to eat something that I had eaten in previous visits. That included, dishes like ceviche, camarones, langostinos, choclo, ocopa and anything Peruvian. I am sure Deysi told me not to be so pushy. However, I was pumped, and hard too control.

The reason it sticks in my mind, was Ol’ Rosco, then about 14 years old, and full of life. He could not wait too try everything and see how much trouble he might get into. After being seated, we were brought an Entrada, or starter. It could have been ceviche. Like all dishes in Peru, it was accompanied by a small dish of rocoto peppers, sliced in small pieces. I warned everyone, just how hot they were. But this did not stop Rosco. He selected the biggest chunk he could find and popped it into his mouth. A few chews and he downed it. Not a blink, not a grimace, nothing. He says, very proudly, “that is not hot at all!” He picks up another one and it follows the first one down. Nothing! I’m amazed. That pepper was hot enough to peel paint!

The next piece he selects and passes to his dad. “Here dad”, he says, “try this, it’s not much”. C picks it up, and being an adventurous eater, pops it into his mouth. After a couple of chews, you could see the flush rising on his face. He kinda looked like a thermometer as the temperature rose. I don’t think he quite knew what had happened, but he was now starting to gasp. Suddenly reaching for the water, looking for relief. As all of those with rocoto experience, know, water does not help. It just keeps getting hotter and hotter, until you start to sweat, and leak from every pore. Deysi knew the danger of this pepper, and was calling for bread. That being the only way to stop the burn.

Rosco thought this was hilarious. Ange and I could, also, see the humour. Now, the Kiwi, was finally grasping what had just happened. I am also sure, that C, learned another food lesson that day. Something like “beware of what you stick in your mouth in a foreign country”. Rosco was then invited to the farthest corner, of the restaurant, for a “chat” with his mom. I am not sure why that little moment stuck with me so long, but it did. Many of the other things we saw and did, faded from memory, but not that one. In a lot of ways, that first moment together, on our vacation, set the tone for things to come. We adventured, and we tried everything, and as much as was possible, Rosco tried to keep himself in “deep conversation”, with his mom.

After a day snooping around Lima, we headed south along the coast of Peru towards Deysi’s hometown, Arequipa. We had hired a van and driver to show us the sights. As always everything was planned to the smallest detail. Basically, I was just like “easy rider”. Show up at the designated spot and just fall into whatever activity, Deysi had planned. The first day, we headed along the coast of Peru, through an arid desert. It was warm and very peaceful. We were so excited to show our guests the sights. As usual, I probably spoke endlessly on the places that I knew of, or had heard of. I’m sure everyone was happy when our first leg ended and they could get space from me, and my endless babbling. I even tired myself out sometimes. Not!

Along the coast of Peru, we spent time in a bird sanctuary, in the (Paracas) Ballestos Island area. We drove along the coast, and encountered thousands of red and pink flamingos. We stopped at a fresh fish lunch place. Coincidently, in the same place where Deysi, I, the girls and JMW stopped for lunch 16 years later. At our earlier stop, the “restaurant” was no more than a painted over, adobe shack. 16 years later, it had grown a bit and looked slightly more permanent. The Corvina was fresh and very delicious. The scenery spectacular. My commentary, relentless.

While in this area, after a night’s rest, we continued thru Ica, where one of Deysi’s sisters lives, towards Nazca, Peru. We were all excited to visit the lines on the desert. This was the first, of our visits to the lines, over the years. Breathtaking, spectacular, and unimaginable do not quite capture just how mystifying this place is. As beautiful as it was, my mind still clings to a roadside breakfast we ate, before reaching the lines. I wanted to make sure everyone had the full “Peruvian roadside restaurant” experience. My target that day was to eat chicharones (pork chunks) or adobo (pork chunks in soup) for breakfast. That did not happen, so we settled for Peruvian croissants, marmalade, fresh cheese, instant Nescafe, and hot chocolate on the side of the Pan American highway on the Atacama Desert.

Fully fortified, we continued towards Nazca, to see the lines. I can remember a place on the Pan American highway, just before the town, where the road comes very close to the lines. Here, there was an observation deck about 30 feet off the ground where you could have your first viewing of what was described as “The Nazca Lines”. I also remember thinking, as I looked out over the desert. “Ok, I guess I can see something, yeah maybe it’s lines, hhhmmm looks good. Time to move on.” We then entered the town of Nazca and made our way to the “Lines”. After an interminable wait, we boarded a plane for a flight over the lines. I might say, that at this point, I was unimpressed, especially with the “goat roping” that surrounded getting an airplane tour.

Finally we were up in the air inside a 6 seater plane. The pilot was trying to explain what we were about to see. I looked out to my side and OH MY GOD, a whole new world has just opened up before my eyes. You can have it explained to you. Or you can look at 1000 pictures, but until you experience your first ride over this magnificent place, you have no idea of it’s splendour and mystic. I can truly say that I was stunned. If I thought that Machu Picchu was the most spectacular thing I had ever seen, then this was a very close second. My thoughts were now running to, “how in hell did they build this place”? For once my big mouth may have been silenced, while I gathered my thoughts. Below us and in every direction, the most wonderful images were displayed.

The pilot took us over the lines at about 3000′. He explained, that much lower, it was harder to distinguish the shapes. Of course this begs the obvious question. How in hell did they ever make these lines more than 2000 years ago? This question started in my head, this very first time we flew over these lines. And it remains, in there, today. It is still as fresh and the answer is still as illusive as it was then. The only thing that makes real sense to me, lies in the writing of Von Daniken, in Chariot of the Gods, who wrote, it was obviously an “Alien arrival area to our planet!” I say, amen brother!

You might snort in derision, but it makes as much sense, as some of today’s scientists, have come up with. For instance one says, that these Peruvians living a subsistence life on the desert, sewed together Alpaca skins, filled them with hot air and flew over the desert, directing the formation of the lines. Or that they made survey type instruments and directed formation from the mountain tops 30 miles away. This by use of signal mirrors. Hmmm, let me think! I say bullshit, these things did not happen either. Whatever it was, I do not think we will ever know, how, why, exactly when and or who. Remember the locals at that time were subsistence farmers, hunters/gatherers, fishermen and basically living hand to mouth from the offerings of an arid desert. They were not pioneering aviation, nor survey techniques.

By the end of our 30 minute tour, my mind was full of questions. Something like, “just who the hell are these Peruvians?” I have now been with one, for over 40 years, and nearly every day, I ask myself that very same question. From Nazca we boarded an overnight bus and proceeded into Arequipa, the hometown of Deysi. Her family was, as always, waiting to greet us, and waiting for the fun to begin. And as always, Deysi was loaded with presents for everyone. It was great to be home again. Our friends were immediately accepted as honorary Peruvians. We stayed in a local traveller’s accommodation, and made it a base for our exploration of Arequipa. Stay tuned, Part II of our adventures will follow soon. It is sure to be dynamic.

EDITOR’S NOTE SOME OF THE PICTURES HAVE BEEN BORROWED FROM OUR TRAVEL COMPANION’S ARCHIVES AND APPEAR TO HAVE THE CAMERA DATE SET INCORRECTLY. IT WAS INDEED JULY 2000, NOT “94 2 23” AS STAMPED ON SOME PHOTOS.