Thursday, August 17, 2006
Up the Peruvian North Coast and into Equador
Sand, sea and security...
In Peru some of the security measures on the buses are pretty tight, but on the bus from Lima they took our passport numbers, finger prints, and all the passengers were bag searched, metal detected and videoed . Whether this is to put off would be hi-jackers and theives or to help identify victims I don't know. It feels vaguely misplaced in what seems to be a fairly safe and stable country, and relatively rich compared to some of its neighbours, even though Norwegian Chris and I had had to fend off a gang of icecream bandits by ourselves.
It was a timely, but not too disastrous, reminder to be on our toes in Trujillo, a colonial town built bang on top Chan Chan the capital of ancient giant-sandcastle builders - having seen a fair chunk of the coast there is little but desert and dunes in the whole stretch. Norwegian Chris and I nearly fell foul of a fairly standard tourist hussle: while wandering along a street, Chris stopped to buy an ice cream, this bloke came up to me mumbling, as a distraction while a couple of other fellas zeroed in on the Viking. The next thing I heard was Chris saying, more in anger than fear, "This man's got his hand in my bag". So I grabbed the bloke in question by the wrist and held his hand aloft - I have to point out that for once in my life, in Peru, I am generally taller than the majority of the population, and this guy was short even by Peruvian standards - consequently holding this fella's hand up felt like hauling a small boy away from a biscuit tin. After the commotion subsided, and the mumbling short fellas ran off, we realised, too late, that Norwegian Chris had never got the icecream she had paid for.
Watch towers, the sort that look useful in a general uprising, on the corners of perimeter walls are also greatly favoured here, and while I see the use in protecting military camps, utilities and the suchlike, it again felt like overkill to see them used on the biscuit factory on the outskirt of Trujillo. I can't really envision a time when a leader of popular revolution is credited with a quote like "We may not have the radio stations or the electricity company, but our people are hungry and now we can truly say, when they call for bread, let them eat c...ustard creams."
Further up the coast is the surf capital of Peru, Manchora, a great place to spend a few days doing nothing...so not much more to add than that.
Banana Repuplic
It isn't really until the very north of the Peruvian coastline that the desert and scrub finally gives up to the lush green of forest and agriculture, and once in Ecuador it is almost overwhelming: I began to believe I might have seen more banana trees than any thing else in my entire life. The plantations stretch for miles with stand after stand, each tree sporting a plastic bag around the stems of the fruits...now that's what I call genetically modified!
Our first stop in Ecuador was it's largest city, Guyaquil, a huge delta town that is spending a lot of money to shed it's reputation as a dangerzone, with a upgraded bus station, new airport and revamped waterfront...however it's a bit like Birmingham meets the Southbank. If you are coming to this town soon, due to the revamp, you get kicked off the bus at a line of bus stands in what is pretty much a building site: buses out of town leave, and have their ticket offices, just around the corner, but don't give into the temptation to jump straight into a cab, get your forward tickets before leaving, as it's a long schelp in and out of the centre.
Call Me Ishmael
From Guyaquil it's a short jump over to the coast to Puerta Lopez, another great place to chill for a few days, and where humpback whales also stop over, off shore, on their way to and from their breeding grounds further north. So yesterday I watched these fantastic creatures throw sumersalts as I stood on the prow of a boat excitedly shouting "Flukes ahoy!" (although don't ask me which bit of a whale is a fluke I just remember it from Moby Dick). One of the National Park guides asked Norwegian Chris where she came from, when she answered, he replied "you eat whales don't you", to which she had to admit she had once...
Even with my inability to spell, I smirked when I saw the "I (heart) Wales" sticker someone has stuck in the boat, although I wondered what someone else was trying to say about the Welsh with the "Exitinction is forever" sticker next to it.
My favourite nautical joke (best told in a West Country accent):
Q: Why are pirates called pirates?
A: Because they ARHHHH!
In Peru some of the security measures on the buses are pretty tight, but on the bus from Lima they took our passport numbers, finger prints, and all the passengers were bag searched, metal detected and videoed . Whether this is to put off would be hi-jackers and theives or to help identify victims I don't know. It feels vaguely misplaced in what seems to be a fairly safe and stable country, and relatively rich compared to some of its neighbours, even though Norwegian Chris and I had had to fend off a gang of icecream bandits by ourselves.It was a timely, but not too disastrous, reminder to be on our toes in Trujillo, a colonial town built bang on top Chan Chan the capital of ancient giant-sandcastle builders - having seen a fair chunk of the coast there is little but desert and dunes in the whole stretch. Norwegian Chris and I nearly fell foul of a fairly standard tourist hussle: while wandering along a street, Chris stopped to buy an ice cream, this bloke came up to me mumbling, as a distraction while a couple of other fellas zeroed in on the Viking. The next thing I heard was Chris saying, more in anger than fear, "This man's got his hand in my bag". So I grabbed the bloke in question by the wrist and held his hand aloft - I have to point out that for once in my life, in Peru, I am generally taller than the majority of the population, and this guy was short even by Peruvian standards - consequently holding this fella's hand up felt like hauling a small boy away from a biscuit tin. After the commotion subsided, and the mumbling short fellas ran off, we realised, too late, that Norwegian Chris had never got the icecream she had paid for.
Watch towers, the sort that look useful in a general uprising, on the corners of perimeter walls are also greatly favoured here, and while I see the use in protecting military camps, utilities and the suchlike, it again felt like overkill to see them used on the biscuit factory on the outskirt of Trujillo. I can't really envision a time when a leader of popular revolution is credited with a quote like "We may not have the radio stations or the electricity company, but our people are hungry and now we can truly say, when they call for bread, let them eat c...ustard creams."
Further up the coast is the surf capital of Peru, Manchora, a great place to spend a few days doing nothing...so not much more to add than that.
Banana Repuplic
It isn't really until the very north of the Peruvian coastline that the desert and scrub finally gives up to the lush green of forest and agriculture, and once in Ecuador it is almost overwhelming: I began to believe I might have seen more banana trees than any thing else in my entire life. The plantations stretch for miles with stand after stand, each tree sporting a plastic bag around the stems of the fruits...now that's what I call genetically modified!
Our first stop in Ecuador was it's largest city, Guyaquil, a huge delta town that is spending a lot of money to shed it's reputation as a dangerzone, with a upgraded bus station, new airport and revamped waterfront...however it's a bit like Birmingham meets the Southbank. If you are coming to this town soon, due to the revamp, you get kicked off the bus at a line of bus stands in what is pretty much a building site: buses out of town leave, and have their ticket offices, just around the corner, but don't give into the temptation to jump straight into a cab, get your forward tickets before leaving, as it's a long schelp in and out of the centre.
Call Me Ishmael
From Guyaquil it's a short jump over to the coast to Puerta Lopez, another great place to chill for a few days, and where humpback whales also stop over, off shore, on their way to and from their breeding grounds further north. So yesterday I watched these fantastic creatures throw sumersalts as I stood on the prow of a boat excitedly shouting "Flukes ahoy!" (although don't ask me which bit of a whale is a fluke I just remember it from Moby Dick). One of the National Park guides asked Norwegian Chris where she came from, when she answered, he replied "you eat whales don't you", to which she had to admit she had once...Even with my inability to spell, I smirked when I saw the "I (heart) Wales" sticker someone has stuck in the boat, although I wondered what someone else was trying to say about the Welsh with the "Exitinction is forever" sticker next to it.
My favourite nautical joke (best told in a West Country accent):
Q: Why are pirates called pirates?
A: Because they ARHHHH!
# posted by Barney @ 9:53 pm 
