Paracas

It should be mentioned that Peruvians are intense about helping tourists be comfortable and stress-free in their country. Our first experience with this was on Saturday evening, when we mentioned to the kid behind our hostel’s desk that we were planning to take a bus from Lima to Paracas the next day, and that we were expecting to walk in to a bus station and purchase tickets on-site. This guy was astounded and horrified that we hadn’t already reserved tickets – It’s tourist season, after all! So he looked up bus times, and stayed with me while I booked them over the internet. He was soliciting help from a friend, making phone calls, and scheduling transportation for us to get to the bus station the next morning. It was overwhelmingly helpful, especially because his reaction to our free-spirited plan had sent me into a panic. Apparently this is not the country (at least, this is not the month in this country) in which we can catch one of the frequent buses from one place to another. 

Anyway, thanks to our hostel receptionist, and the help from several people at the bus station, and the patience of many other travelers who lost their place in line because of our confusion, we boarded a comfy bus for the 4-hour ride to Paracas. We had been told that it does not ever rain in foggy, misty Lima, but it is much drier outside of the city. The landscape was all dirt, no plant life except for a few spotty asparagus crops. Also, poverty. So much poverty.

And we thought that New Mexico was dry...

Three baby trees! An oasis!

Paracas is a small town whose economy is almost entirely based on tourism. (There is also a strong fishing business.) There is essentially one street in the place, only separated from the beachfront by buildings, most of which are tour companies and hotels. We evaded a slew of Peruvians who were asking us about our itinerary, finding holes we didn’t even know we had, and filling them – for a fee of course. You’re arriving in Arequipa after an overnight bus? Oh, you won’t want to then figure out how to get to your lodging. I’ll call my friend! She’ll meet you at the bus station, holding a sign with your name on it. She’ll drive you to your hostel. You’ll be much more comfortable.

But we weren’t yet excited about filling our itinerary’s holes. We were excited about lunch.

Inka Cola: Looks like pee, tastes like bubble gum.

Ceviche: Raw fish marinated in lime juice.

And we were excited about walking the beach.

Up close and personal with a pelican

My mom, expressing confusion about why the pelican wasn’t attacking her at this distance. Answer: This is Paracas, where even the pelicans work to keep the tourists happy.

The cutest ugly hairless Peruvian dog playing with a plastic sack. And the cutest cute Peruvian boy joining in.

And we were excited about watching the World Cup.

(Well, maybe we weren't as excited as everyone else in the place, but there was not really anything else to do at this point. People literally closed up shop to go watch the game.)

 And we were excited about watching the pelicans (and a sea lion!) eat dinner.