by Jane | Feb 11, 2014 | My travels, Peru |
A day out to Otusco
The Cathedral in Otusco
It was time for another mini adventure so this weekend myself and M decided to take ourselves off to the Andean town of Otusco. Billed as the Faith Capital of Peru the guidebooks and friends recommended that we should go and see the statue of the Virgin de la Puerta (Virgin of the Door) which is housed behind glass on a small balcony on the outside of the cathedral above the huge wooden doors. There are also some good walks to be had in the surrounding countryside and the town itself is said to be quiet but pretty.
Flower lined climb
We set off on our two hour journey and after negotiating the army of yelling, arm waving touts who were all trying to get us to choose their combi we settled into our chosen mini bus. The first bit of excitement was to discover that the vehicle actually had seat belts but it was soon to be dashed when we realised that they were not adjustable and therefore totally useless. An hour later as our driver was attacking each hairpin bend with gusto at top speed, often whilst overtaking a huge truck and accompanied of course by the rhythm of loud Peruvian cumbia music, I did wish that my seat belt worked but I also reasoned that if we were to plummet over the edge I would need a lot more than a little strip of material to save me. Our driver obviously knew the road like the back of his hand and I do believe that he had a little challenge of his own going on inside his head – to shave a few minutes off his personal best journey time. We did eventually arrive in one shaky piece and found Otusco to be a delightful little town. The views from the top were good and the steps up between the little houses were colourfully lined with the yellow and red blooms of the striking flowers that are a feature of so many parks out here.
We bought and wolfed down snacks of tortitas sandwiched with condensed milk and honey and had a coffee in a very strange little backstreet cafe whilst we waited for the cathedral to reopen. We checked out the profusion of little stalls which were set up outside the cathedral selling candles and images of the Virgin, visited the church and the statue……and then decided to come back home. We had planned to stay the night but the place was dead. And not dead in a relaxing calm way either but as if some sort of plague had hit and half the population had checked out.
The Andean foothills
The journey down the mountain was even more scary then the journey up as this minibus driver was not only trying to beat his personal best but he was obviously going for the overall record in the mountainside championship. We hurtled down the hill with M gallantly trying to take photographs of the view out of the window whilst not actually looking as she endeavored to keep the contents of her stomach where they belonged. I focused intently on my Spanish homework in the vain hope that trying to conjugate verbs would distract me from the sight of the river in the ravine far below.
We did however survive the journey and celebrated life by heading off out later that evening to a Latin dance club where we shook our stuff until four am.
Getting into Peru
Some guide books and travel agencies recommend that you buy a return flight for Peru as some over zealous customs officials may not allow you entry and may just pop you back from where you came on the next plane
Despite not knowing how long I wanted to spend in South America I decided to take the advice of my travel agent and I opted for a return flight into Peru and out of Rio. This worked out cheaper than two single flights, and for a small fee I will be able to alter either my destination date, my departure airport or both, although my agent also said that technically this may not be enough as you need to evidence leaving Peru not the continent.
Many of the people that I have met in Peru arrived on a single ticket and they have booked flights as and when they have decided to go home; but I also have friends here who have come unstuck. And the problem has not been at the arrivals desk in Peru but at the outgoing airport. At Madrid airport two friends were told that they had to prove onward travel out of Peru before the official would issue them with their boarding passes despite having a return flight from Brazil. They then had to spend a frantic and stressful couple of hours in the airport trying to connect to the internet to book a bus ticket which would take them out over the border, without knowing anything about alternative routes or their options. Somebody else had a similar experience at Gatwick and ended up booking an onward flight out of Peru but within South America which cost almost as much as their original single trans-Atlantic ticket.
My advice to anybody intending to travel into Peru on a single ticket would be to do some research first from home. Check out flights and onward bus routes and have the web addresses handy somewhere about your person. That way, if you are prevented from travelling you can at least get online and book something relatively quickly and cheaply and eliminate some of the stress.
Happy travelling
candles for sale outside the Cathedral
by Jane | Jan 28, 2014 | Funky Facts, My travels, Peru |
It crept up on me, without me realising what had happened until it was too late. The weird and wonderful things that just two months ago had seemed so alien had suddenly become normal.
Here is a Top Ten of things that you may not know about Peru
washing up ‘liquid’
1. Washing up liquid comes in solid form in plastic tubs. It looks like the 1kg margarine tubs that you would buy in the UK, although its green colour and very strong bubbly smell will ensure that you don’t ever mix the two up. To use, simply swipe the dish washing sponge over the green gloop and take care to rinse thoroughly or you will be tasting it for days. Fairy liquid eat your heart out – this stuff dissolves grease by the bucket load: – and fingernails.
2. Cute and tasty. Don’t be fooled by the cute little guinea-pigs which you see scampering around in their cages. Bubble, Sqeak and Gertrude are not pets. They are dinner. And they will arive at the table looking rather like their former breathing selves but undressed and sort of, well, flat. They sprawl across your plate with eyeless sockets and their itsy bitsy ears. It is as fiddly as hell to get the tiny morsels of meat off their tiny bones, but it is worth it, so swallow your inhibitions and get stuck in. Unless of course you are a vegetarian.
3. All babies and children and I mean ALL babies and children without exception in Peru are stunningly cute, adorable and basically all look as if they should star in the baby ads. They have the longest eyelashes and rarely cry or grizzle. The young ones are often plugged into a breast while mum goes about her daily business but why oh why are the new borns carried and covered under a blanket. It s hot here in the summer so why do they risk cooking their babies?
4. Driving could have a blog entry all to itself. In fact, I think it will some time in the future, but here for now, is a little something to consider. Many people will only have ten minutes behind the steering wheel of a car before being issued with a certificate so it is little wonder that the roads resemble scenes from Whacky Races. If you want to turn left, logic surely says that you should get in the left hand lane and if you want to turn to the right, stay on the right. If you are at a red stop sign there is no need to honk your horn and if I have just got out of a cab why on earth would I want to get straight into another one? I love that rules don’t count for anything here although I do wish that one-way street signs would be observed as that gets a little hairy.
something fishy
5. Uncooked fish. I like my fish and meat cooked so cebiche was an unexpected hit for me. Raw chunks of fish are ‘cooked’ as they marinate in lime juice. The result is surprisingly unfishy as they explode in your mouth accompanied by a cloud of fresh citrus and finely shredded onions.
6. Walls. Walls are built for the sake of it and in the desert with no visible habitation for miles, somebody will have built a wall. Or to be more precise, four very long walls in a rectangular shape enclosing nothing but empty sand. And then people come and paint the walls white and often add some political slogans in red paint and three foot high letters. The amount of bricks in some of these walls could build a small hotel. I just don’t understand the time and effort put into the walls.
7. White dog poo . Only people over a certain age will appreciate this weird fact. White dog poo. Why is it white and why can it no longer to be found in the UK? No need to dwell any longer on this one. It’s white and on the Peruvian pavements. Fact.
8. Numbers. Shops and public spaces generally have two posters displayed. One shows where the safe area is should there be an earthquake. The other indicates the maximum number of people who should be inside the establishment although I don’t think that the two are linked. The old fashioned barber shop around the corner from me may contain five people. The supermarket several hundred. I don’t know who counts you in and out because the security guards just stroke their guns and try to look cool, but short of an earthquake I can’t think what harm cam come to person number six who decides to join the queue for the barber.
Numbers do not count at all however in cabs or combis. Basically you just keep on shoving until limbs pop out the windows and the conductor is hanging out of the door on the bottom step. Two in a front seat and two in the boot are quite normal in a cab and anything less than five on the back seat is luxury. In the country near Chiclayo people travel on the roof of combis (garishly coloured camper vans) and the man in front of us had a bag of live chickens (including a crowing cockerel) on his lap.
9. Puddles of Blood. Long distance buses will often play a film if they have televisons and decide to ring the changes from ear splitting salsa music,but there is often little concession for children. Horror films are avidly appreciated and blood and guts abound. The front pages of the newspapers usually display the previous night’s body count with little privacy afforded to the poor victims. Perhaps the idea is to shock and discourage crime but I reckon it is just an acceptance of life and death – and a love of the gruesome
10. Full volume. Life is conducted at full volume but nobody complains because nobody notices. From the marines who jog around the city centre at six thirty in the morning chanting marine chants as they stomp through the streets, to the fireworks which are set off at any time of the day or night – it is all perfectly acceptable. Somebody doesn’t answer the front door? Shout. Dogs bark and music blasts out from homes, buses and cars and from our next door neighbour’s ridiculously massive speakers which play all night. But I find the noise strangely comforting and I am learning to sleep through anything.
The above is by no means a conclusive list – I could have added the adult slush puppies, the complete unawareness of the concept of personal space or menus which just about everybody eats for lunch and cost just a pound. But after just two months here my senses have readjusted and this is the normal
by Jane | Jan 7, 2014 | My travels, Peru |
The dancing kicks off
Chocolatada kicked off my Christmas adventure. This occasion is the highlight of the year for many of the children in our NGO and for days leading up to the big event, volunteers had been wrapping presents and labelling goody bags, the volunteer house full of debates about how best to wrap a football or how to disguise a doll.
Early on the Sunday morning a posse of mums gathered in the school yard to cook lomo saltado (beef, onions and peppers) in huge cauldrons over open fires. Seven hundred bread rolls were cut and filled with this mixture, gallons of hot chocolate drink was mixed and stirred and as the sun beat down on the sandy school yard the huge metal gates were opened and families tentatively began to trickle in.
Volunteers wearing Christmas hats and tinsel-edged capes were joined by a Father Christmas (in flip flops) to form a welcome tunnel through which the guests would be cheered and whooped before taking their seats on the stone terracing around the stage and plaza.
Groups of children sang and danced and showed off their skills, a talented volunteer dressed as a clown entertained the crowd and certificates were issued to children who had tried the hardest. By now, most of us had a couple of children each sitting on our laps or pressing as close as they could to us, playing with our sunglasses and cameras and generally vying for our affections, until we gently shook them off and went and distributed the food and drink. Somebody turned up the volume and there was some wild dancing all together in the sun with siblings bouncing younger children on their hips and a conga chain weaving through the throng. After the bags of presents and food parcels were distributed everybody began to head for home, anxious to get back before it got dark; but not before queuing up to kiss and thank each of the volunteers. Best clothes were shown off – the girls were adorned with bright hair accessories whilst many of the boys looked smart in what was probably their one decent shirt.
waiting patiently for chocolate and a present
After a quick tidy up there was the usual squash for taxis and it was back to the volunteer house for chifa – Peruvian style Chinese food – or should that be Chinese style Peruvian food?. There were some sad goodbyes to those who would not be returning after the holidays and then at ten thirty pm I, with my fellow travellers M & G, set off to catch the ten hour night bus to Lima.
Lima
With a few hours to spare we mooched around on the beach at Miraflores for a bit before heading back to the bus station for a long sixteen hour journey. Luckily, despite all of the horror stories that I had heard beforehand about the buses in South America, the long-distance tourist buses are actually extremely comfortable. Yes, of course there are plenty of ‘chicken buses’ and rolling death-traps but for not a lot of money by UK standards, you can buy an almost fully reclining seat, an aircraft type meal and with a TV screen set into the seatback in front of you you can pass the time with films, music and games.
Arequipa
After quite an alarming ride swaying and rolling around the hairpins through the mountains in the dark we arrived at Arequipa. Known as the white city because of the colour of the buildings we duly bought our coco leaves at the local market which would hopefully combat altitude sickness and gawped at the mummified body of Julietta , a fourteen year old sacrifice victim in her glass freezer inside the Santuarios Andinos UCSM Museum.
The Canyon de Colca
what goes down, must go up
Volcano Misti puffs smoke
The following day the three of us joined a two day expedition to hike into the Colca Canyon. It all began gentle enough, albeit at the alarmingly early hour of three am. We breakfasted in a tiny little courtyard with snow capped volcanoes standing proud along the distant horizon – and yes – that was smoke puffing cartoon-like out of the top of one!
At seven thirty we were standing on the edge of one of the deepest canyons in the world, totally mesmerised by the massive condors which soared at eye level, floating majestically on the invisible thermals. Although crowded with tourists and the inevitable souvenir sellers, the experience was amazing and a collective hush fell over the valley as the birds made their appearance. The early morning air whispered of the heat that was to follow and the morning light bounced off the rocks with an amazing clarity. It was easy to see why the ancient people revered the mountains and the entire region and how even now, they are considered sacred places. And then an hour later we began trekking down into the canyon.
The canyon is nearly twice as deep at the Grand Canyon and as the sun got hotter and the track steeper we had to negotiate a very real, very live, happening at that moment, rock fall. The guides anxiously scanned the slippage above for the tell-tale clouds of red dust and instructed us when it would be safe to individually cross the loose scree slope. After a grueling descent there was to be no let up and we began the scramble up the other side, panting up stone steps, some of which were more than knee high. Overall we would cover over eighteen kilometers in seven hours. There was a brief lunch stop and then we were off again, meandering up huge ups and steep downs whilst traversing along the valley. The tracks presumably followed ancient pathways but there were rather too many ups that downs for my liking. I was really feeling the effects of the altitude and plodded along in my own pocketful of misery, encouraged along by M, G and our amazing local guide Vanessa who didn’t even break out into a sweat. My spirits were revived when I eventually staggered – and I do mean staggered – into an oasis at the bottom of the canyon.
Lush green grass, butterflies, hummingbirds and a swimming pool were waiting. The evening was spent in great company eating and drinking cocktails and watching the full moon rise above a cleft in the mountains. The glow worms and the fire-flies put on a magical display of little neon orange lights as they danced in the bushes and trees and with no roads in or out of the canyon the place was a true haven of tranquility.
its a long way up. Straight up
The narrow, stoney track
The following morning, after a deep sleep in our little cabin close to the roaring river I agreed that it would be wise to follow the advice of our guide and to hire a mule up and out of the canyon. The route out of the gorge was a steep three hour climb up a series of tight, narrow switchbacks, gaining over one thousand meters in altitude. I was initially VERY nervous when the two mules ridden by me and G began to jostle on the narrow path for first place but I soon relaxed when it became clear how sure-footed they were. I did wonder why they had to sometimes choose to stand on a pebble literally on the edge of the precipice and I would shut my eyes and hold my breath at that moment, the deep silence only broken by the clatter of sixteen hooves and the constant calm murmuring of Rafael as he whispered to his beloved animals.
Reaching the top long before M and the intrepid hikers, me and G sat in the early morning sun. I shared a packet of chocolate biscuits with three local ladies who proudly posed for photographs for me in their colourful skirts and bodices. They chose one lady to be their main model and turned her embroidered waistcoat inside out to display the clean, fresher colours and fiddled with her hair and her skirts, then giggled excitedly and babbled away in their quechua language when I showed them the pictures.
Friends relax and chat in the sun
The rest of the day was spent travelling in the minibus, stopping for an hour or so to cross a horribly swaying rope and plank bridge and visit some hot thermal springs at Chivay where we slowly boiled ourselves in the waters, Once over the mountains we stopped for lunch and later shrieked with excitement when we caught sight of our first wild alpacas and dainty vicuñas (their deer-like relatives) grazing on the vast sweeping plateaus, before shivering at the highest point where countless travellers and pilgrims over the years had built small sharp cairns of pebbles. We then had a quick, much needed freshen up back at our hostel in Arequipa. The incredibly friendly owner of the Hospedaje La Posada del Kuraka had not only held our main rucksacs for us, but he supplied us with clean towels, a hot shower and a room in which to change, and then we were off to the bus station for yet another overnight bus, this time to Cusco and for Christmas.
(I apologise for the incorrect spelling of Canyon – it should be spelt Canon with a squiggle over the middle ‘n’ but I can’t seem to fathom out how to do that within this template)
by Jane | Dec 10, 2013 | My travels, Peru |
The volunteer house which lies behind a wooden door set within a high wall is a crazy place. The building is a rabbit warren of rooms which scootle off in all directions and it is full of people and noise. A wooden staircase climbs up to the bedrooms on the first floor at the front of the building whilst a steep, stone, narrow spiral staircase twists up two floors at the back of the house with a final vertigo inducing flight to the large roof terrace.
After being dropped off by the taxi driver I was greeted at the gate by a couple of the volunteers and I was then immediately swallowed up in a whirlwind of activities with introductions and instructions all around. About twenty volunteers live and work from the house with others based in nearby apartments or home-stays. I had been placed in a home-stay for the interim as the volunteer house was bursting at the seams. I was taken there by one of the volunteer coordinators. I spent an hour or so catching my breath, wondered about the likelihood of frying to death in my shower and then went out for a wander in the immediate vicinity to get my bearings.
The Cathedral at Plaza de Armas, Trujillo
It turned out that my home was just a couple of blocks from the main central Plaza de Armas and a multitude of cafes and coffee shops. Later I made my way back to the big house and we all set off out for a party. I thought that it might be wise to keep away from the cocktails that first night but I managed to last out until three thirty am which was quite impressive considering the travelling that I had recently done and was up dancing for much of the night to the rather good live band
Reed boats drying on the beach at Huanchaco
The following day was a Sunday when all the volunteers have a day off and after a relaxing introduction to the nearby beach resort of Huanchaco the following afternoon, I reported back to the volunteer house on the Monday morning for my induction to teaching and the place where I would be spending the next three months.
The non-profit organisation helps economically-disadvantaged children in the north of Peru realise their right to an education. The group works to educate and empower parents to take control of their lives and to improve their own living circumstances. They are currently based in the impoverished districts that surround the city of Trujillo. I will go into a lot more detail about my work and what the group achieves in future blogs but for now, consider the following.
Trujillo is the second largest city in Peru. What we would probably term ‘shanty towns’ are popping up around its perimeter as people are attracted to the city to find work, as they are doing in cities all over the world. Trujillo is a bustling cosmopolitan city with colonial architecture, large shopping malls and manicured parks and gardens. There is the usual Plaza de Armas (main square), nice museums and sports facilities. In the districts of El Porvenir and Alto Trujillo where I will be working, the majority of streets simply consist of sand and most of the houses are very small, one storey square boxes, built of simple mud bricks. A large proportion of the homes lack roofs or solid doors. Luckily it rarely rains in the north of Peru but consider the security options – if nobody is home then a thief only need jump over the top! Volunteers are advised not to move around in the districts alone and should never carry any valuables, also many cab drivers refuse to drive up into the barrios.
El Porvenir – the facts
- Population in 2011: 164,931
- % of the population which has migrated from their birth place: 45%
- Population in extreme poverty: 8%
- Population in poverty: 33%
- Population with no running water: 14%
- No latrines or sewer drains: 8%
- No electricity: 18%
- Cooking on wood-burning fires: 20%
- Houses with earth floors: 58%
- No phone connection (or mobile): 41%
- Illiteracy rate in men: 2%
- Illiteracy rate in women: 9%
I was excited but a little bit apprehensive about what I might find when I went to work the following day. My role would be to initially deliver English teaching to the primary school children whose families have signed up to the project, deliver English lessons to the children in the outreach scheme in one of the public schools and to support the Economic Development project which works with some of the mums who make and sell products. After Christmas and the schools have broken up for their long summer break I would be involved with the holiday clubs for the children and ongoing English teaching.
Huanchaco beach
The organisation offers holistic support to families and works in partnership with them. The aim is to empower them to be able to make positive decisions in their lives, in order to improve their current situation and to provide the best possible opportunities for their children. Unlike other NGO’s which I had researched before choosing this one, the whole family has to commit to the project and must support the children who attend additional lessons after their normal schooling. Children here usually attend public school either in the morning or the afternoon and those children who belong to the group attend two sessions (half days) per week in their spare time. Support and a a space for them to complete their public school homework is available, there is a library, additional English and Maths classes are delivered and they also play sports. They have the chance to let off steam in the playground and generally run around and be children in a safe environment. Psychological support is also an important side of the facilities offered as many of the children have emotional and behavioral problems.
Workshops are offered to the mums and these provide a safe space where the ladies can gather and chat together and share ideas. There are three types of workshops where mums can make jewellery, bags and purses from cloth or knit and crochet. Help is offered with materials and sales outlets are provided. There is also a small micro-finance scheme available to the families to enable them to get small businesses off the ground.
The weather here is warming up every day and people are getting excited about the sun coming out. The temperatures are due to rocket any day now and the foggy cloud is lifting for longer each day already. Come Christmas and the temperatures will apparently be in the thirties and stay there for a couple of months. After Christmas the children will attend holiday clubs at the centre and will go on various outings and trips.
After my induction morning I went along with some of the other volunteers for ‘menu’. I have come across this in Spain in the past. It is a lunchtime menu offered by most restaurants and cafes at a very reasonable price and consists of two courses plus a drink. There are usually a couple of starters and about five main courses to choose from. A group of us walked a few blocks away to a small basic cafe where I had soup and a dish of chicken and rice. Wine would have been the usual tipple in Spain but here in Peru the drinks are fruit squashes. The whole lot amounted to the grand sum of S/.7 – seven soles which equates to approximately £1.75. Portion sizes as I was soon to find out are on the large size and doggy bags are willingly given out.
After lunch I was to go up to El Porvenir and see for myself what I had let myself in for
by Jane | Dec 6, 2013 | My travels, Peru |
I set off to meet Kimi the lady who I had met on the cliffs earlier that day. With all the scare stories crowding into my mind about accepting invitations from strangers, I nervously waited for her, but I needn’t have worried about going into her house as she turned out to be the loveliest lady and ever so interesting. Her family are Japanese and despite being born and brought up in Peru she now lives in Japan although she is currently back in Peru for a long visit. We chatted about a wide variety of things, compared cultures and we ate together but a little later in the evening we walked to the supermarket where Kimi gave me a lesson about the different fruits and vegetables and foods which were on offer. I thought that I was quite knowledgeable about the fruit and veg in the world, but goodness; despite being quite widely travelled, South America has a lot of weird and wonderful stuff which I have never encountered before.
Kimi was incredibly generous and treated me to some fantastic ice creams so that I could sample the flavours. I would be unable to describe the taste to you, but both delicious. Sitting in the restaurant inside the supermarket which was incongruously named Wong’s we snaffled down our ice cream and chatted away nineteen to the dozen, before parting and I returned to my dorm in the hostel.
getting my specs mended
the dancing fountain
the water tunnel
the highest jet of water
the calm before the carnage
The following morning I managed to break the arm off my glasses but some wild sign language to a lady sat at a stall in the street worked and resulted in her pulling out a little stool and mending them for me in the gutter – all for the astronomical cost of fifty pence before treating myself to an hour’s open-top bus tour around the Miraflores district. That was slightly bizarre as the majority of the commentary was about the various parks and the shopping centre but it was quite nice to see the wider area. I think that the travelling finally caught up with me so for the rest of the day I lazed around on the hostel roof terrace, until that evening when I joined in with a trip to the Water Fountain Park in Lima. A convoy of taxis took us to a large park which contained half a dozen fountains. But these were not ordinary fountains. They danced! Music played and coloured lights and lasers flashed around the jets of water which spurted in different directions and shot up at different heights. Pictures were projected onto what is the widest fountain in South America as if on a cinema screen whilst the highest fountain in South America was floodlit and had a backdrop of Roman walkways and had hoards of people strolling around its perimeter. The water feature which began the hysterical laughter of the evening consisted of hundreds of arching jets which formed a tunnel through which people could run or walk. Some of the lads from the hostel soon discovered that by touching the jets they could divert the water and drench us as we ran through the middle. Then all hell broke loose at the next water feature. This was a large area with jets shooting up in the air from the floor in formation. People were hopping around between the jets and working their way to the centre behind the walls of water which shot up around them. And then the boys got in. They quickly got to the centre and stood there laughing when the jets suddenly changed direction and fired at forty five degree angles blasting them. One of them tripped over, landing in what he thought was a safe space when he got blasted from underneath and then there was carnage as they all pushed and pulled each other into the jets. I hadn’t laughed so much since setting out on my adventure but it wasn’t so funny when four of us had to squoosh soggily together in the back of the taxi.
On my final day in Lima I met up with Kimi and we got the bus into Lima city centre. I had expected that we would visit the usual tourist haunts but thanks to Kimi I had a far more adventurous time. She took me to China Town and showed me the streets which had been her playground, her old school and apartment and the area where her family restaurant had been. Together we explored the markets and back streets and ate in a little backstreet Chinese cafe. Returning early to the hostel I unpacked and repacked my entire backpack in the hostel lobby ready for my onward coach journey. I ate a dish called El aji de gallina – shredded chicken in a spicy pepper sauce and at nine thirty I took a cab to the Cruz del Sur coach station.
I had paid over the odds for the best bus – again I took heed of the horror stories about bandits and breakdowns on the night buses, but it was an extra eight pounds well spent. It was a double-decker bus with comfortable leather seats which reclined almost horizontal, we had a snack delivered similar to an airplane, TVs set into the seatbacks in front and a hostess service (a young lad who didn’t speak a word of English but kept the rest of the passengers amused when he attempted to explain things to me). The journey was long and we bounced along but it wasn’t too bad at all and at least we had no stops and the luggage was secure.
Arriving nearly two hours late into Trujillo which is ten hours north of Lima on the coach I located my luggage, ran the gauntlet of taxi drivers, choosing one who didn’t look too much like a rogue and set off to find what would be my home for the next three months
