Funny faces in Sechín and wanderings in Lima "book your hostel in advance" Perú

The alarm goes off early on the morning of Sunday, September 28. We pack up our stuff and eat a little something before we’re out the door by 9am. It’s gonna be a long day ahead of us. Peter meets us at our hostel and we rrrrrrrr down the street in his moto-rickshaw, as Nate carefully watches the mechanics of motorcycle riding. We pick up the bikes and take off!

My bike frequently clicks and snaps. Nate’s is way too small for him. All of the tires are low on air. Good thing it’s only 5km. The shoulder of the road disappeared. Extremely large VOLVO trucks honked us out of their way. The military guards by the speed bump waved at us.

And before we knew it, we were in the country side! We biked along the road past pastures. What a different experience from the inside of a bus. We were out in the countryside instead of just watching it whiz by the window!

My bike couldn’t shift gears, so at times I chugged along and at times I cruised!

We passed over a tiny bridge and turned left, avoiding the larger bridge to Huaraz (sorry Nate, maybe next time). A few more miles and we made it!

Down the gravel road we find the ruins. But wait! We have to pay 6 soles entrance fee. “Museum first, ruins second” says a sign, so we oblige.

The museum is a funny sight. And by funny, I mean pretty darn empty. I think Nate was relieved. We flew through it, excited by the prospects of 3600-year-old ruins of a temple “covered with gruesomely realistic bas-relief carvings of warrior and captives being vividly eviscerated.” (Lonely Planet, South America on a shoe string, Peru) Sweet.



Well, kinda. By my ruins standards, which have been set pretty high from Lebanon, Jordan and Egypt, it’s nothing spectacular. We climb up for a bird’s eye view of the ruins and run back down.





We make faces at the reliefs as they giggle back.






But quickly now! We have a bus to catch!! We hop back on the bikes. My legs feel like jelly; am I really this out of shape?! Heading back to Casma is easier since it’s all down hill! Moto-rickshaws, cars and trucks honked as they passed.



We dropped off the bikes at their homes and walked back to the hostel. We had a good hour to wait until the next bus for Lima, so we waited. Peter stopped by to check in. He ended up waiting with us for our bus. What a good guy! He went above and beyond what we had hoped. We quickly tutored him in English and joked around. It was sad to leave, but Lima here we come!

But not so fast! Our bus received a punctured tire along the journey. We ended up arriving in Lima after the sun had set. I’d read some things about Lima. You know, big city with high unemployment rate. Better to take the secure cabs. Don’t walk in certain parts of the city alone. The woman at the bus company office said that we wouldn’t be able to get a secure cab at that hour. Oh no. Two friendly women hailed us a cab and bargained the driver down.

We kept a careful eye out the window to make sure we were going in the right direction. The cab driver was very nice and dropped us off at the hostal. Whew! We lug ourselves up the stairs only to find that there are no more rooms available. We wander around, tired and hungry until we give up and hop in another cab. The driver is super awesome. He calls all his buddies to try to find out where this other elusive hostel is. With team work, we drive and find it.

The talkative guy at the hostel does not pick up on my "I'm very tired and hungry, please stop explaining how a refrigerator works" look. We find an overpriced Arabic food restaurant and pig out!

On the bus ride from Casma, my forehead started burning. Followed by stomach cramps. Followed by headache and fatigue. Followed by worse stomach cramps. Food just made it worse.

I was in so much pain. And shaking from fever. I don't know how I got back to the hostel, but as soon as I did, I collapsed into bed for a night of feverish dreams.

Monday, September 29.

By morning my fever had subsided a bit. At least I was coherent. We packed our bags and set off for another hostel. After wandering all morning through Miraflores we finally ended up at the backpackers' party central: Loki. We got a bright green wrist-band. Internet, communal kitchen, and comfy beds. Sounds like paradise to me!

Don't remember much about Monday. My stomach was doing all sorts of grumpy things. I spent most of the day in a fetal position trying to convince myself that tea, soup and positive thinking would alleviate my pain. And it did. Kinda.

Soup and wine was dinner. Quite a delicous dinner. We booked our bus for Pisco/Paracas for the next morning! Leave the hostel at 6:00am?! Time to get to bed!