Peru Part 2: Lima to Iquitos

*Apparently, I never hit post on this draft, so it is being posted a year late.

 

June 23, 2024 Parque Nacional Huascaran 

June 15, 2024

After the stone streets and historic buildings of Cusco, Lima was a big shift. With only a month left in Peru, we broke our usual trend of long-haul buses and instead hopped the 1-hour flight between the two cities. Landing in Lima, the first thing we noticed was the perpetual fog that was hanging over the city. Our Uber driver assured us it would be a fixture for most of our time here given the time of year. He was not wrong. 

Since we landed on a Saturday, we didn't want to miss our chance to go out in the city on the weekend so we quickly headed out to the nearby Barracos neighborhood. I had a blast drinking and dancing, but before I knew it, it was way past my bedtime and I was still technically recovering from my cold. Johnny wasn't quite ready to call it a night, so I decided to head home while he had one more. We started the evening by Ubering out to the bars despite it only being a 20-minute walk because we didn't know the neighborhood. The Uber driver assured us it was a safe area and we'd be fine walking back. Even with this info, Johnny encouraged me to get an Uber, which I ignored and comfortably walked the 20 minutes back without incident. Johnny, however, was not as lucky. Even though he left just 30 minutes or so after me and was heading home on the same route, he was approached by a large woman who he assumed was previously a man, and who proceeded to grip him up. Johnny just thought they were making aggressive advances, but it took an effort to push them off. Once he finally broke free, it took him a second to realize and check his pockets, only to find that his cell phone had been lifted. I was none the wiser, asleep in bed while Johnny asked passersbys in his broken Spanish to look at their maps so he could find his way home. I think the phrase he utilized was something along the lines of "Bandito mi cell phone... la carta de cellular?" while miming opening a map on a cell phone. Of course, for those of you who speak Spanish, mapa would have been a much more effective word to use over carta, but regardless, he got himself home and I found out about the whole ordeal when I awoke the next morning. 

We woke up late and I eventually got the story, upon which I checked my phone where we could see the stolen phone's location about 20 minutes North of our current spot. Johnny decided he was going to confront the person and try to get the phone back, and I wasn't about to let him end up in a Peruvian jail by himself, so before I knew it, we were in a taxi headed north without knowing what we were in for. When we arrived at the phone location drop, we stepped out of the car to find a huge warehouse structure that was filled wall to wall with individual cell phone service and repair stalls. Trying to get the iPhone to chirp with an alert while standing near the pin was totally hopeless; there were at least half a dozen stalls in the immediate area, and of course, no one was about to cop to buying a stolen iPhone 13 that very morning. We had a chat with some of the local vendors, and they said that on a weekend, they may see as many as 40 people like us come through looking for their stolen device. Apparently, every stolen phone in the city ends up in this cellular market. Writing it off as a loss, we spent the rest of the day walking the historic district, feeling grateful that it could've been worse, and really, that was the first incident we had in over 18 months of traveling the world. 

In the following days, we explored the nearby neighborhoods, including Miraflores and its cat park. On a whim, I got my hair professionally dyed for the first time in my life to try to create a style that would let me grow out my grays a little more gracefully. The thought process was that 1. a very involved color service would probably be a fraction of the price compared to the US, and 2. if I hated it, it would give my hair a chance to recover and get fixed before the start of the school year. After almost 5 hours, I emerged very happy with the results of my first fancy hair color.

Originally, the plan was to kick our feet up in Lima for a bit, but between the gloomy weather and Johnny's cell phone loss, we weren't particularly feeling this capital city and hopped an almost 10-hour bus to the mountain town of Huaraz after just 5 days. Meant to be a spot spent hiking the many, many surrounding trails, we ended up not doing a whole lot the first couple of days and didn't actually make it out on a hike until day 3. After a couple lazy days, we got up for a 5am pickup to take us to Laguna 69 in the Parque Nacional Huascaran with about 30 other tourists crammed into a micro-bus. Luckily, the guide made it clear that we could hike as fast as we wanted ahead of the group, as the trail was well marked, as long as we all met up and headed back by a certain point. Well, Johnny and I really took that to heart, especially given that there were about 4 or 5 large tour buses behind us and Lake 69 is not a big place to spread out. Wanting to enjoy before the crowds, we took off and Johnny made the hike in about 1.5 hours and was the first one there with about 30 minutes to enjoy the beautiful tranquility by himself. I was the third person there for about 2 hours and relaxed in peace before the other groups rolled up. The spot's popularity is completely justified, with bright blue waters and snow-capped mountains at every turn, complete with several impressive waterfalls. After a couple of hours splayed out on rocks like lizards at the edge of the lake, listening to the crack and fall of the glacier above us, it was time to head back. Although there are other beautiful hikes to enjoy in the area, for the sake of giving us a bit of a time buffer for our next two stops, we decided to hop a night bis that same night to head to Trujillo, a necessary transfer point as we got further and further from the tourist paths. 

A few early hours spent at a mostly closed bus station, we caught the one transfer of the day that would bring us to Cajamarca, a town popular for national tourists but with very, very few "gringos". I was quite popular at the market and local museums when people asked me where I was from, and immediately wanted to practice their English. I didn't see a single other gringo as I visited the local historic sites including the random house, which is considered the end of the Inca Empire as it was where the Spanish held the last Incan emperor. I paid about $2 for the ticket, which also gave me access to four other local museums that showcased gold artifacts and human skulls from a recent Inca site excavated in 2009. It was pretty impressive for the price. The next day, I also visited the Ventanillas de Otuzco, tombs carved into the rocks. 

There are lots of neat things about getting off the beaten path a bit, but one big disadvantage is that logistics and travel options become significantly more limited. I had to invest a significant amount of time trying to figure out the best way to get us from our current spot of Cajamarca to our next destination of Chachapoyas. I did manage to find one overnight bus with questionable reviews, but in my research, I also found multiple accounts of people raving about how amazing the drive was and trying to do it during the day to catch the impressive vistas. I spent a whole morning walking around to bus stops and talking to locals to figure out another option, which was rewarded when I found someone willing to take us in his personal car, avoiding having to stay a night at a transfer point and ensuring I would have a front seat for the windy mountain roads. After further discussions with a whole group of drivers at a roadside lunch spot, we all came to the consensus that rather than going all the way to Chachapoyas in one day, we should stay the night at a waypoint, Leymebamba. This would allow us to leave at a comfortable 9am and finish the drive before dark with the added bonus of getting to check out a highly-rated local museum. What a lucky find it was!

Such a cute little colonial town, it had all the charm without the annoying tourist infrastructure. In fact, Johnny and I caught quite a bit of attention while we stood in the town square while figuring out where to stay. There were hardly any listed online, but walking around and knocking on doors I found a great spot for only $13. Literally, the whole town was about 3 blocks by 3 blocks, but the cobblestone streets and wooden colonial balconies on all the old buildings created such a cool, if unexpected, experience. The next morning happened to be Johnny's bday and we started the day by visiting the Museo de Leymebamba, which contains over 200 mummies recovered from an excavated mountain mausoleum near Laguna de los Condores. The burial site was used for hundreds of years during the reign of the Chapapoyas people around the 11th century, and you can actually see the change in the mummification process through time with the influence of the Incas. It was a bit rushed to make the "collectivo" mini-van to the next stop of Chachapoyas, but we made it just in time.

Chachapoyas doesn't have too much happening in the town itself, but it's a home base used to access multiple tourist sites high in the Northern Andes Mountains. We were planning on visiting two: a waterfall and a site of pre-Inca ruins, but a twist of fate changed our plans when we picked a random hotel off booking.com. Turns out the owner of this hotel is not only a generous and friendly guy, but his family was visiting from Lima, and as a result, we were invited out on their family outings for two days. He had rented a van and a driver to take his sister and nephew around to the local fiestas patrons in the remote mountain towns, and we were along for the ride. I can't say we've really had an experience like it this whole entire trip. 

To say our presence stood out in the villages is more than an understatement, but people in these small towns did not hesitate to welcome us into the festivities. We were fed with the whole town, with probably some of the best beef we've had the whole trip, and continuously handed a cup of fermented boiled sugar cane juice that did not look appetizing but tasted good. The issue was more that the man walking around serving the drink had an old, stained 5-gallon bucket to transport the batch and a single mug that was dipped into the bucket for everyone to use. You're handed the mug and the man stands there and watches you drink it because, well, he needs the cup back. You're forced to drink it down pretty quick because, sure enough, there is someone next to you waiting their turn for the cup, so there isn't really too much time to think about it. And each time bucket-man came by we really did try our best to politely refuse, but there was really no getting out of it. At some point during the party, the giant bucket of juice was replaced with a bottle of aguardiente, homemade sugar cane liquor, still with a man walking around serving the whole town with a single cup. After 2 days of this, I have absolutely no idea how neither one of us got sick, but I guess 20 months on the road has built up our immunity. 

We also got to see a tradition where a tree is chopped down, decorated with toys, clothes, sodas, and balloons, and then placed in a hole for people to dance around. There is an axe that is passed around to important members of the community and they take turns whacking the tree with the goal of bringing it down for everyone to rush in and claim a prize from the tree, sort of like a piñata. Unlike a piñata, which may involve the less-than-ideal combination of alcohol and a bat, this version combined the aforementioned bucket and bottle of alcohol with an AXE. I was nervous to say the least as the axe was passed to the most stumbly of men to have their turn, but it all seemed to go off without a hitch and as soon as the tree was felled, there was a mad dash by everyone to claim their prizes. Overall, it was a really unique experience and definitely took me back to my Peace Corps days in Nicaragua, sitting on wood benches with dirt floors and the carbon residue from stoves hanging from the ceiling as skinny dogs and chickens weave between feet looking for scraps. 

Our host was also generous enough to invite us in his rented van to hike with his nephew the the Gotca Waterfall, one of the two destinations I had on my list for this stop. One of the tallest waterfalls in the world, it was impressive, but I am starting to feel a bit cynical at this point in the trip, with all the waterfalls we've seen, it's hard to not think "oh look, another waterfall" when I know that as a stand-alone activity, it would be amazing. It's small moments like that that let me know I'm getting ready to go home. Regarless, it was so generous of the family to invite us along and it really made for a special experience to get to see the country side with the people that live there. 

The other place I wanted to be sure we checked out while in Chachapoyas was Kuelap, also known as the Machu Picchu of the North. Impressive in it's own way, I can't really say that it holds much of a candle to that view you get of Machu Pichhu coming in on the Inca Trail, but the history was fascinating. 

When it was time to bid our amazing host family goodbye, we knew it was just going to get harder and harder from there. Chachapoyas really marks the end of anything that could resemble the tourist trail as we attempted to make our way into the Amazon basin, and negociating the buses and transfers as we started our trek way off the beaten path was not an easy task and I was again graftful for my Spanish. A confusing bus to car transfer trying to get to Tarapoto as a way point finally got us on our way to Yurimaguas and our last grand adventure of the trip, the slow boat to Iquitos.