An account of another vision-quest in the desert, a change of plans, our arrival in Nazca at night.
The morning of our second day in Huacachina, Max, Ben and I returned to the place where we had eaten breakfast the day before. This time, the tunes were less power-ballad oriented and put a heavier emphasis on 80's pop. The result of this was that when I wandered the desert later, a good part off my journey was set to the beat of Whip It and Beat It.
Around 1:00 PM, I filled up a 2.5 liter water bottle and set off to conquer some of the local dunes. First I climbed up on top of the dune that we had been up two nights before and then descended to the valley on the other side. As usual, each footstep brought 20 foot avalanches of sand and filled my boots. Still, there were places where I could tell that the sand was more hard packed, and began to seek them out so that the walking would be easier. I found a way up the next dune that was still steep as hell, but firm enough so that I could put my feet down without sinking in.
The top was another ridge of sand, which I walked along for about half an hour. For some reason, there was a brick up there and with nothing better to do, I picked it up and chucked it down the other side. It took at least two minutes for it to roll the entire way down, setting sand flying in its wake as it tumbled end over end.
I took pictures and wandered aimlessly amongst the dunes for a while and then began heading further out. In the distance, I could see the biggest dune of all and knew that I needed to conquer it. I had plenty of water and plenty of time, I wasn't going to get lost because I was had noted where the bigger dunes around Huacachina were located, and was careful not to let them out of my sight. I could use my compass for some basic orienteering, though I would be a bit limited without a map.
Conveniently enough, there was an open plane between the bigger dunes, where footing was easy (actually, it might have made a nice run.)The walk was a gradual uphill. After about a mile, I could look down and see the big dune that I had climbed earlier below me. Beyond that, I could see the distant sprawl of Ica glittering in the distance. I waiked out for about another hour and then I was ready to begin my main ascent of the hill.
I hadn't realized starting out, but this was in fact, the same hill that we had buggied up the day before. Tracks in the sand showed our crazy ascent and the drop where we had plowed into the stomach-busting dip. We hadn't gone all the way up though, so the summit would be something new.
I began my ascent on the north side of the dune where the sand appeared to be the firmist. To my right side, I could look out and see the different world of desert beyond with its orange sand and stange black, stony crags. By this point, it was late afternoon and the landscape was cast in their mysterious shadows.
I got to the top, and took a few pictures of it all. I was pleased to see that there had been no other footprints to reach this point. Mysteriously enough however, there was a white cylinder resting in a depression partway down the other side. My curiosity was tweaked, so I ran down to check it out. A bag of sand. It was dissapointing that it hadn't been filled with, say, Spanish dubloons, but when I think back on things, it could have actually been a billion dollars worth of cocaine waiting for a pickup. I didn't cut it open to find out, but I suppose I wouldn't have had the crime savvy to put it on the market.
I walked back to Huacachina along a slightly different route which took me over some more dunes. A few people whizzed by in buggies and looked at me like I was some kind of alien. Walking! Imagine that! I smiled and tipped my cap to them.
Back at the hostel, I had about an hour to decompress and shower off before we wanted to get into a cab to the bus station in Ica.
When we got there however, we found that all the tickets to Arequipa, the city we wanted were unavailable. There were however, tickets available for Nazca, the city near the famous lines. It would be about four hours (as opposed to the 12 we had planned for) and would take us partly on the way to Arequopa. We decided that we had had our share of Huacachina and it was time to move onwards. Even if none of had been too stoked for the Lines, at least it meant that we were checking something off the required list for Peru. Hooray!
In a few minutes, we got aboard a Soyuz bus and went into the city. Perhaps arriving in a bus station in a strange city in the dead of night without a hostel booked sounds a little dangerous, but yeah, I guess you could say that we're just that edgy.
It was totally dark outside the bus windows, but in its place I had an unobstructed view of a godawful American movie dubbed in Spanish complete with Iranian bad guys and this woman that cried in every scene. I was rooting for the Iranians--or maybe a fiery bus accident.
As it happened, if we had worried about getting hostels, Nazca apparently had no shortage. One guy was particularly aggressive about trying to get us to go to certain hostels (Our guidebook calls his type a tout.) We blew him off at first, but then found that one of the hostels he was promoting had been one that we had been trying to find anyway. Meanwhile, we booked our tickets for the next ride of town which was 24 hours from now and with a new company, Cruz Del Sur.
The tout waited for us to finish our business with the bus company and then lead us to the hostel. A guy there showed us a room for the three of us with hard beds and pillows that might have been filled with gravel. All for the rate of 20 soles for each of us. The adjoining bathroom was a plus though and it's always nice not to be sleeping on the street wrapped in garbage for
warmth.
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