Cars and Taxis and Busses, Oh My!

So I learned in Lima that in order to cross the street here, you just throw caution to the wind and hope that the cars slow down. Also, there is no flashing red hand on the crosswalks... there is a time and a green walk symbol, and when that hits 0, the light changes immediately. Also, cars honk constantly, taxis honk at everyone they pass when they are available, and car alarms are ALWAYS going off. This noise continues all night long, constantly. My stash of earplugs is proving to be way more useful than I had even expected. The honking is definitely more annoying than the base bumping from the discoteque down the street.

Taxis in Ica and Huacachina are ridiculously tiny little three-wheeled things that look straight out of a cartoon and feel like they are going to fall completely to pieces as you buzz through the streets at speeds they don't appear capable of reaching. Dune buggies are terrifying pieces of equipment that threaten to cease to function at any moment (increasingly so the further out into the desert we got) and yet they bomb up and down the dunes like it was nothing.

Arequipa has similar tiny taxis but they are a little less breakneck about the speeds they travel at, and there appear to be stoplights at some intersections here, but never a walk signal or an angle at which you can see the other light, so you still have to throw caution to the wind and be honked at.

The busses on the otherhand have been lovely. I'm booked on the nicest line of busses in the country, so while I feel a little un-cultural for not taking the cheaper lines, I definitely feel WAY safer. I actually slept on my overnight bus, mainly because I took a pill, but also because I feel somewhat safer than I expected to (thus being willing to take a OTC pill). Mind you, I still have all valuables tucked into as far into inside zipped pockets and I sleep clutching my onboard backpack like it was a teddy bear, but at least I actually feel somewhat safe.

Alive in Arequipa

I made it to Arequipa! We did end up going out saturday night and it was pretty crazy watching people around the club--gringos and peruvians living it up. I got my salsa on for a while but made a fairly hasty retreat when my group decided to head out. My second day in Huacachina was pretty dull until I hit the dunes in a sand buggy full of German tourists and two UK folks. It was ridiculous how much fun we had flying up and down the vast number of gigantic dunes. The desert stretched out for miles and it was our own private roller coaster. Sandboarding was done best head first, sliding down on my belly rather than trying to snowboard down. In fact, snowboarding it didn't work at all. But man, one dune I went down was crazy steep! Then we watched the sun set over the desert and headed back to town to try to get the sand out of the crevices it had lodged itself in. I will be picking sand out of my ears for weeks.

The overnight bus was fine, mainly because I remembered to take some sleeping meds. I actually got some sleep between tossing and turning, although I am really tired all the same. I am at my hostel in Arequipa (free wifi!), got my hot shower, and am mostly sand free. Time to go see the Plaza De Armas and find food.

An Oasis

Today started out beyond early. In most worlds it was still a friday night. It was so early that even though my hostel receptionist had urged me to leave, the bus station was not yet open. Regardless, I got on the bus and headed to Paracas to go to "the poor man's galapagos." The boat out to the Ballestas islands was definitely a little more rocky than your typical float. That plus the stench of the guano that they literally harvest off of the islands made my stomach turn pretty badly. Plus a little extra guilt for my miserable spa-fran-glish, and I was only very determined to enjoy this tour, damn it. There were humbolt pengins and a whole mess of peruvian boobies as well as cormorants, vultures, sea lions, etc... and it was pretty cool, except for the whole putrifying stench thing.

Then, after the second bus to Ica, and a quick taxi to Huacachina, I'm literally in an oasis. As in, there are palm trees, a lagoon, and it's surrounded by mountainous sand dunes that I'm scheduled to dune buggy up and sandboard down tomorrow. It's so touristy here, that english is the common language more than spanish. I found a hostel mainly by the niceness of the girl who worked the front desk (at least she wasn't some sleezy dude trying to sell me an extra tour), and a good vibe. This is a party town though, so there might be some pisco sours and dancing as this is a Saturday night. Safety is the priority though, so I'll be careful nonetheless.

The good news is that things are looking up. no matter the pressure I put on myself to speak better spanish, I'm managing fine. Tomorrow will be sandboarding and the overnight bus to Arequipa, the city I'm most excited for. Should be exciting!!

Lima!

I´m alive! No thanks to the Doubletree that I had booked for last night though. They had contacted me and offered a hotel transfer, but no one was there. After a long day of flying, and a stomachache from all the rich food and plentiful booze on the last flight (filet mignon and key lime pie... and wine until the flight attendants have managed to make the entire cabin pass out), I was NOT a happy camper about having a million people yelling "¿Taxi senorita?" over and over. I couldn´t remember where the safe taxi stand was, and my spanish completely got washed over by french. Turns out I can say a lot more in french than I thought, and a lot less in spanish. So when I finally got to the hotel around midnight I burst into tears.

However, once my hungover butt got out of bed today, and I managed to find myself a place to sleep tonight, things turned around. Somehow when I actually rely on myself it comes out much more comfortable for me than when I´m trusting someone else. I managed to run a short list of errands, have a tasty lunch for S9 (about $3), and find an internet cafe. Lima is not my favorite place so far though. Although a whole bunch of stray cats running around the Miraflores parks did make my afternoon coffee at a streetside cafe much more entertaining, there is simply ugly architecture and a general dingyness. Plus there is this awful cloud cover that makes the city glaringly bright but completely gray. Maybe I just haven´t found the cool parts yet. When I return eventually, I´ll actually do some more of the Centro district, hit some museums and look at the central square. But today´s purpose in my schedule was just to ease into this whole thing, and I think I´m getting there. At some point my spanish will start to catch up, and I´ll stop blurring my french and spanish. "Quiero un cahier" does not get you a notebook here, even though it turns out it´s close... But a lot of pointing and gesturing and a blend of "oui", "yes", and "si" will get the job done.

Tomorrow is the bus to Paracas and the Bellestas Islands (however you spell them). Should be an exciting start to my journey, and much more photographable than this city.

p.s.

Spanish computers evidently spell-check everything I type as wrong. There is going to be a lack of proper spelling on all of my entries. Enjoy, and poke fun all you want!

p.p.s.

Turns out that I´m using an accent rather than an apostrophe... and I can´t find the latter on this keyboard. Oh well!

The Packing Post

Carrying on my pack, for three weeks in the varied climates I'm traveling to, quickly became one of my goals for this trip. After all the BER experiences, I had to try at least. It really makes a difference in not having to wait for a bag through customs and just generally with making any tight connections that inevitably occur. So here's what I ended up packing:

Shoes:

Light hiking boots are a must for the various treks I'm scheduled for and hoping to join, and Chacos--strong walking shoes while still being sandals for when it's a little warmer--became my immediate "have to haves." Then, of course, I added flip flops for showers and because you always need flip flops. The Nikes are super lightweight, pack down to nothing, work as wandering around the hostel shoes, and with the insoles from the hiking boots they're pretty comfy.

Clothes:

Three bottoms, three long sleeve tops, three tanks, a short sleeve shirt and a dress. Throw in an unphotographed swimsuit and I think I've got my bases covered. There will probably be one laundry stop, but I'm sure I've got plenty (and it conveniently color coordinates pretty well).

Outer Layers:

Puffy stuff for altitudes, rain gear for the inevitable, and the splurge sweatshirt/jacket I got with my REI discount. Throw in headbands/buff/hat to cover the mess that will be my hair on day 3 without a shower.

When it came down to it, packing was a piece of cake until it came to the toiletries. I had shampoo and soap figured out (Dr. Brommer's solid all-in-one soap should work well enough to get me clean), but I need lots of bug spray and sunscreen and didn't want to necessarily leave that up to chance/higher tourist prices. So the liquids were a problem... that was until Dad saved the day.

The Solution:

An actual carryon bag for liquids that is not a flimsy ziplock which my dad has used on a number of flights without incident. It fits more than a normal ziplock too, which was critical because I needed two bottles of contact solution and as much DEET as I could carry. No having to oddly repackage things, no hiding liquids, and it SHOULD work.

But cross your fingers for me just in case...

Checked In

I'm checked in online. I'm really going to do this. I really do have first class seats all the way to Lima. In less than 24 hours (if all goes well) I will be on my way. I suppose I should start packing.

Do we really think I can get 3 weeks of liquids in a 1qt ziplock? It remains to be seen.

Solo Female Traveler.

It’s a phrase that scares people. Hell, it terrifies me when they’re so scared for me. I’ve done solo travel before--three months in Paris, traveling through Italy on a tour, traipsing across the USA and Canada for work--and it’s been tough, but never impossible. The scariest part is stepping onto the plane, and just trusting yourself enough, that even though there are a million things out there to scare you: pickpockets, scam artists, noisy hostel-mates... you will make it through in one piece.

This time it’s a little harder. Peru is not exactly the same as Europe. A couple of “Learn Spanish in 7 Days!” books is not exactly the same as 4 years of high school french. The looks on peoples’ faces when they find out where I’m going alone this time isn’t exactly as confidence-inducing as when the answer was Paris. The poverty level is much more striking in South America than in most of the places I’ve traveled. And I’m coming off the flux of helping a friend get married, moving into a new apartment, and preparing for graduate school.

But when the going gets tough, I usually end up on the lucky side of things. When deciding where to use up frequent flier miles to get to this summer, Lima came up requiring so few miles that I ended up with a first class ticket. When I dreaded going off alone once again, I had suggestions given to me of ways and means to get where I was going and meet people along the way. I always manage to come out ahead somehow--in Europe, in the US, and in NZ. The lucky star seems to hang overhead still, and (knock on something wood for me, will ya?) hopefully it will continue into the heights of the Andes and the depths of the Amazon.

Oh, and I want to carry on my luggage. The packing post will be very interesting...