View from the museum
Sunday, September 13, 1998
Woke up today with a roaring headache from the previous night... The beer isn't very pure, and the Pisco sour is extremely pure, I suppose. It took almost an hour for me to crawl out of bed and pack my backpack. Magnus, Annette and I headed out for the bus station. After almost 20 minutes of walking around, we finally found where the bus to Ica leaves from -- seems like every city destination has a separate bus depot... Go figure.
The 1.5 hour bus ride was uneventful except for the terrible Israeli guy who boarded with his recently purchased pet spider monkey. Excellent conservationist, terrible conversationalist. We arrived in Ica and stopped at the first hostel we saw. It turned out to be one of the best places I've ever seen -- 3 beds, clean showers, TV, and even a little desk. All for the one low price of 50 soles (about $5 each) thanks to some keen negotiation by Magnus.
So, we walked around and found a most excellent pizzeria, Restaurant Venezia which has been open since 1870. After stuffing ourselves silly and some final hangover recovery, we decided to head to the regional museum. We took a little motorcycle taxi -- 2 soles for quite a ride! The museum was closed, however, so we decided to walk back. Back in town, it was only 4:30 so we decided to head to a little resort called Huachachina that was briefly mentioned in the guide book. I didn't have much hope for it to be nice, but it was something to do.
Boy, was I wrong. It's basically a little oasis in the middle of the desert. A small clean lake surrounded on all sides by massive 300 meter tall sand dunes. A Sunday, there were a lot of Peruvian families out for a Sunday afternoon picnic -- kids swimming, kids playing soccer, kids on paddle boats, kids climbing up the sand dunes and coming down on snowboard style equipment -- a sport introduced to me as "sandboarding". Well, I was too tired (and still queasy) so no sandboarding for me. Instead, Magnus and I had a long talk about his home country, Sweden, and the differences culturally with the United States.
At dark, we came back to town and decided to go to the movies -- Godzilla was playing. We paid the 6 soles ($2 US) ticket price and watched the entire stupid movie. How a movie company can justify spending 40 million dollars on a movie like that is beyond me. No script, no plot, no characters, nothing but a few special effects. After the movie, we crashed and slept in comfort.
Monday, September 14, 1998
Today we decided to go back to Huachachina and give a go at sandboarding. So, we set out at a little past 9 for some breakfast. We settled into a little restaurant off the main square and asked for menus. Unfortunately, they didn't really have a breakfast menu -- improvisation was necessary.
With my limited Spanish, I soon found it necessary to point at the eggs, chop the cheese, and make frantic stirring motions. Luckily, I knew the word for tomato (tomate). A few minutes later, we were eating excellent cheese and tomato omelletes! Score!
So, out to Huachachina and quickly found a guy willing to rent us a sandboard. We found some nice gringos to watch the rest of our stuff and set out for the top. The sand was incredibly hot -- our sandals provided almost no protection against the searing heat. Still, we climbed to the top. Somewhere about half way up, I remembered my Kilimanjaro counting steps technique -- again, it proved useful.
At the top, we decided to test out the boards before barreling over the extremely steep slope. I didn't think it was all that difficult, and after I said as much, I was duly elected to go first. So, I greased it up with this yellow goo that the guy gave us and let it rip. Straight down hill, baby, rock and roll. I rolled OK, about 30 meters down the hill after a spectacular crash that broke my sunglasses and knocked the wind right out of me.
Fortunately, I was otherwise OK. So, I waited for the others to come down and then we all proceeded all the way to the bottom without much further incident. Magnus went last, and after seeing the catastrophic crashes of Annette and me, he took it really easy. Compare the sand for yourself...
A quick dip in the water, and then we all laid out for a nice little nap. Magnus wasn't feeling well after a quick lunch, so he headed back to the hostel. Annette and I took the afternoon really easy -- a little reading, a little napping, and some swimming. Unbelievably, she wanted to go sandboarding again. Well, I'm not a wimp and certainly didn't want to seem like one to her, so we rerented the boards and took off up the mountain.
This time my technique was MUCH better. I headed all the way down the mountain very fast -- almost straight down hill, and only achieved massive faceplant about 10 meters from the bottom -- right in front of a huge crowd of tourists. Again, no wind in my lungs, and sand in every single crevice of my body. Annette came down gracefully. Another dip in the pool and then off to the hostel.
We decided to go back to the Italian place for some pasta -- excellent decision. Then, I spotted a little billards hall across the street. We went in and I explained the game "cutthroat" to my friends -- it's basically three person straight pool. On the table next to us happened to be a three-cushion billards championship going on. I played a lot in college and even won the Georgia Tech Intramural League one year. A local dentist who spoke very good English found this out and decided that I would be a good exhibition match for the Peruvian National Champion.
Hey, he even offered to broker a bet, if I'd like to play for "something special." But no, we couldn't come to terms, so we decided to play just for the good will of Peru and the United States.
After a brief introduction, I graciously let the champion have the first shot, in deference to his title. I somehow managed to take an early 3-1 lead, much to the dismay of the now quite large crowd. Soon, however, his quite remarkable skill took over and after about thirty minutes he beat me 20-10. Still, I think he was impressed -- my new friends certainly were. Hey, I probably would have let up and let him win anyway -- it'd have been too embarassing to beat the national champion on his own turf, right?