Steadily Northward

Please excuse our absence from the world for the last few day, we´ve  been present in another state of reality called ¨perfect SUrf World¨ at Chicama, and this world prohibits contact with  the one we were previously associated with.

We spent the last day in Huanchaco surfing some of the biggest waves weve seen thus far at a little bit overhead, and I also got to try out one of the totora reed fishing boats- the ¨caballito¨. The boat is pretty cool and remarkably adapted to wave maneuvering as I led it through the shorebreak and tried the stand-up paddle approach, using the traditional paddle made from a split piece of bamboo. The beach had cleared out and all the weekenders had gone home. Huanchaco had been a nice place but we knew the swell was coming to light up the Chicama christmas tree and had to return for another taste.

A familiar busride back to the puerto and arrival at the Ël Hombre hostel greeted us with a full house of recently arrived surfers who had been tipped off as we had through the meticulous watching of wave forcasts. The wave was just turning on and we enjoyed a sunset session up at the cape and I had a narrow escape from a fishing net when duckdiving under a wave and getting my board completely entangled within it. I cut myself free before drowning using my highly adapted survival skills. There were a few more participants this time then the previous week,and things really heated up the next 2 days.

If you can imagine a perfect wave, this is it. When chicama really turns on, it is a grinding fast tube breaking over sand for nearly a mile. The wind is always offshore, and it is hardly crowded. Me and Evan got by far the best waves of our lives, Evan even proclaiming so by screaming ¨Best Wave of My Lifffffeee!!!!¨as he came flying past me on the inside. We traded half-minute to 45 second long lefts from the rocky headland all the way back to within sight of El Hombres porch and cheering mates watching from above. The waves were head high the first day, and got even a little overhead the second, with a huge influx of vanloads of daytripping surfers from probably just about everywhere in coastal Peru and otherwise. The local kids had the wave dialed of course, outlasting and outblasting pretty much all the gringos in the tube and on the face save for a few really fast guys. By the end of this dream marathon we were paralyzed with fatigue. But oh so satisfied. Chicama is truly a hydrodynamic miracle of á wave and very magical place unlike anywhere in the world. We completely scored.

Saying goodbye to Chicama was pretty bittersweet. We had stayed in a nice little upgrade from our rooms the previous week and felt like kings of the place when sitting down to an awesome breakfast prepared by Doris, the Senora of the hostal. But it was time we headed north to Mancora, a big summer resort town that plays host to Peru´s best summer waves of Cabo Blanco and Lobitos. Again, the overnight bus was the ticket but it proved much more of headache then we would have guessed.

Transfering in Trujillo to get a bus to Mancora would be easy we thought, but it turned out there were few buslines with direct routes there and the ones that had them were booked, leaving us with the option to go to Piura and get a bus from there. We took a Cruz Del Sur bus, another nicely fitted charter bus but it didnt depart until very late, leaving us mucho time to kill. We decided to get the best dinner in town.

Looking in our Lonely Planet guide, we decided on El Uruguayo, a highly recommended steakhouse in south Trujillo. I had the best Argentine steak in the world probably, paired with a pretty amazing Chilean cabernet sauvignon, ensalada and papas fritas; Evan had an exquisite mixed plate with Chorizo well deserving of our chicama triumphs. So yeah we patted ourselves on the back a bit, and consumed the best meal we had had in Peru by far and maybe ever. A great way to spend 3 hours.

 In a dramamine-induced daze we sped through the dark Peruvian wastes and arrived in Piura by 6 in the morning. Apparently, many travelers get stuck in Piura for some reason or another, but we were determined not to be. We decided to get a shared van for the 3 hour trip and it turned into a very uncomfotable endeavour. No air conditioning, crowded backseat and little sleep became a nightmare drive through more wasteland. Mancora couldn´t come soon enough.

Pulling into the town was a great relief and we saw all the hallmarks of resort town blight-billboards, thousands of cheap looking hostels and beachy tourist shops, but the place was pretty small alltogether. We decided on the Sol y Mar hostel, which we will be changing soon because its not all that decent, though its right in the center of things, including Mancora point, a crowded little mushy left that we were told to avoid. After breakfast in a nice little town center cafe overlooking the break, we gave the spot a try and found it warm, workable but far too crowded. Looks like were gonna have to hit this place early as it blows out and gets ridiculuously dangerous with all the surfers novice and pro alike packed into a tiny take-off zone. Not exactly perfecto after experiencing dream-like chicama.

We´ve managed to run into several people weve met in our travels previously, including the hostel in Lima and Pacasmayo. A group of North Carolina surfers kind of on the same track as us spotted us looking for a place to eat and we decided to meet up for later engagements. Its amazing how small Peru can be when your on the wave hunt and the signals are pointing the whole tribe to the same place. As I write this we met another solo traveling surfer we had met in Lima, and now we are confident we might know half the town allready. With plenty more contacts from other friends back home, we feel we might enjoy Mancora for the next week as priveleged insiders and look forward to the trek…

MORE PICTURES- http://picasaweb.google.com/EeShoe/PeruWeek2AkaMoreChicama?feat=directlink

Surf Chan Chan Surf

Huanchaco is a seaside touristy getaway close to Trujillo, the second largest city of Peru, and is crowded by Trujillian weekend warriors out to spend as much time as possible by the ocean. We arrived yesterday on a charter bus to Trujillo and taxi into town, checking in at the Casa Suiza, a fake ¨Swiss Style¨lounge that is pretty cool and the best eats in town. We came here with the hopes of putting down surfing for the weekend and unwinding in a¨lively party town¨. Like how most of the trip has gone, we found opposing forces at work. The wave here was pretty damn decent, a long left coming off a gradual point with more size and power then weve seen previously, and as night came around the whole town became abandoned. Just our luck to find waves when we werent even looking for them.

We ate a cool middle eastern place at the farthest possible edge of town, a hippie kind of place obviously run by ex pats, serving unique takes on felafals and other middle eastern fare. A decent run of surf later had us trading lefts down the point and in front of a cool pier into a deeper bay backed by some imposing mountains in the distance. The place looks much like any beach in California, with the exception of the presence of a dozen totora reed boats, the small fishing craft coastal Peruvians have been using since antiquity. You can actually rent them and try them out in the surf, and it is said these craft outdate the ancient Hawaiian Olo surfboards. Many claim this very place was the real birthplace of surfing, and Id say its a pretty appropriate hypothesis.

We went for a drink in town that night and found things pretty quiet, save for a little place where a few musicians were playing in a very casual atmosphere for a very small audience, namely us. We sipped a harsh Peruvian beer while listening to some traditional Afro’Peruvian folk music, accompanied by my friend the ´Cajone´(hand drum). We retired soon after all the jazz, geeeez what an exciting town.

(Today) we rose early for an awesome morning session at the point, with  no one out of course, and had the best breakfast yet in Peru at our hostel. The fruit blended juices here are pretty amazing, as was the omelette and coffee. We were ready for an expedition to Chan Chan, the mammoth ancient ruined adobe city to our east, capital of the Chimu empire.

The taxi dropped us off on a road that seemed to lead deep into the ruins, which stretched as far as the eye could see on ethier side of the highway (yes, the highway bisects a thousand year old ancient city). We thought we only had about a minutes walk tothe welcome center and museum, but no, like every time we do anything ruin related, we must walk through a blisteringly hot wasteland for at least 20 minutes to get anywhere.

Chan Chan looks much like the previous two ruins we had seen, both from the same cultures of Moche and Chimu, as they are built mostly with adobe brick that have been severely eroded by the heavy rains of El Niño. This is the biggest pre columbian city in South America as well as the biggest ancient adobe city in the world, with a total area of about 20 square kilometers. It was home to some 60,000 4 and half foot tall people. Imagine that.

It seems also that our travels in this country bring us into contact with many interesting dogs, as today we met the Peruvian hairless dog, a true hellspawn of a creature if there ever was one. If you have ever seen a picture of the worlds ugliest dog ( the official one) you will recognize it as this breed, a mid sized muscular hound with rhinoceros like black wrinkled and scarred skin, talon like claws, and a mysterious evil eye. Yes it looks like a demon incarnate ready to spread batwings and dissapear into flames, but seemed a very docile creature, roaming about the welcome center grounds with a lackadaisical gait. Apparently they have a higher body temperature then normal dogs and are used as aids for people with arthritis (WTF). Pictures of  Satan´s little helper to come soon, I promise.

We took an english speaking tour with a nationally eclectic mix of friends, a Malaysian, Icelander and Pole from Ecuador. The tour took us through the complex which consisted of a huge central plaza, ornate walls rife with ocean symbolism, a tomb site, and an amazing walk in well that looked like an oasis. Yes the place was really quite eroded and we were in the restored part of the city, but the fact that they had erected tent like roofs over much of it to protect from rain robbed the site of its authenticity all the more in my opinion. Are you using your imagination for all this? Well I guess ill upload some pictures once I can get to a computer that can accomplish such a task.

The adventure was only just beginning for me and Evan after the tour ended. We knew from our guide book that the portion we had seen was but just a small fraction of the whole site, and that seeing other parts was easily accomplished by just walking out into the distance, but also reported was the fact that these areas are not protected and one runs the risk of robbery or worse when venturing here. We asked some women police officers about it and they said it was strictly prohibited at first, but after explaining we werent afraid of the ´ladrones´(thieves) they reversed their absolute policy and said ok. Deathtrap? We were about to find out.

First we walked out to a similar looking complex in the distance, a miniature walled city in itself with 30 foot walls. Entering in, we were a bit scared but figured the place was pretty empty and were proved right. This was an archeological site in progress, with tarps and stacked stones and scaffolding all about. Its amazing we could do this at all, and we felt pretty Indiana Jones rummaging about in the passageways and seeing first hand small temples and plazas that probably only a few people in our modern era had set eyes on at all. Besides, we had extensive ruin experience from our last forays into bone’strewn terrain.

This place blew away all the dinky ruins we had seen prior. It was even a bit better then the restored city section we had toured because this was the real deal and you could tell. Constantly looking over our shoulders like paranoid freaks, we were glad to see two little girls come up from behind a monolithic structure (!) Yeah apparently little Peruvian girls are permitted to play in bandito riddled archeological sites unsupervised. They were having a fine time as were we. We didnt find any bones this time, unfortunately, and eventually a man came and yelled at us from a distance. He seemed to be the girls father and then exclaimed he was a guard for the site and that we werent aloud on the premises. We apologized and hastily left our unexcavated treasures behind for another adventurous or ignorant gringo duo to discover. (kidding about this, if your in Peru dont touch or dig up anything at a site or the government will find you and detain you for probably indefinitly). Back to Huanchaco, for another evening glass off session and a great pizza at the hostel. The legendary  south swell formally arrives tomorrow and we are ready to greet the long awaited bastard (or maiden) at Chicama with open arms.

A Brokedown Taxi

Missing yesterday, here are our updates. Were still in Pacasmayo surfing and seeing some very untouristed ruins. Yesterday got off to a late start as we woke up lazy and had a big breakfast at a sandwich place. The waves were really not up to par so we decided to try to see El Cerro de Dos Cabezas, a Moche burial mound (or rather two of them) just to the north of town. We got a taxi who took us up into the typical surrounding desert wastes and half-finished construction projects into the lush and green Juequetepeque River Valley (its prounounced heh-kwey-tay-peh-kay, fun to say indeed). Down some winding roads and we came upon two large and imposing mountains of dirt and sand that was really one (hence the name Dos Cabezas, it looks like it has 2 heads). Upon closer inspection we saw it was really eroded adobe bricks and the place was huge. Again, we were the only humans in sight and we told the taxista to stay for a little while we checked the place out. There were burial chambers built into the sides that we dared to climb into and become mummies, and condors soared above us. The view from the top was pretty awesome, we could see for miles in every direction and could see some probably little surfed breaks to our west. There were no bones this time.

When we came back down we saw a police car by the taxi and were a bit taken aback, it turned out they thought that we were Huaqueros (graverobbers). They try to police this stuff heavily because an insane amount of precious gold artifacts have been unearthed at this site, including a very famous mask that went missing from a museum in Lima and turned up a decade later in London, said to be cursed by the way. There is still no onsite security however. We had a good look and were off.

On the way back to Pacasmayo, our poor little mototaxi that couldnt got a flat tire and we pulled off to the side of the nowhere land road. All around us was absolutely nothing, so we got to know our taxista Cesar very well as he made an emergency call to his friend to come pick us up. About an hour later, another mototaxi showed up and hitched the flat taxi on the back and we all got in and puttered back to civilization. We couldnt make it up the hill with all the weight so we had to get out and push, though not being able to keep up ended up running after the taxis up the hill and jumping in at the last second. I have some epic mid-action shots to prove all this.

Later that day, we went back out to the point to try to get another taste of  “endless lefts”. We caught a mototaxi this time, cutting our travel time to about 10 minutes. We went along with Marco, our friend who works at the great burger joint that shows surf movies all the time, our aussie friend Danny from the hostel, and Francisco; a kid we befriended at first but was turning into a bit of a punk when he tried to steal my binoculars. Evan decided to sit the session out because of a bothersome foot injury, and elected to film with the HD cam. The tide was low so the wave at El Faro was finally switching on, and we all got our fair share of good long lefts, some on camera. Surfing til dark, I hitched a ride with some more aussies back to town and met up with Evan at El Charro for a huge post-sesh munch. Afterwards, we met the aussies again and got a drink at an Italian restaurant though we retired early to surf at dawn the next morning…we were headed to Poemape.

(This Morning) we awoke before the sun and packed our French friend Emmanuels 4WD with boards and provisions. It was he, his girlfriend Mal from Australia, Evan and I and we were in the mood for a cool side trip, especially where good surf was to be had since Evan had missed out the night before. We drove past the huge Pacasmayo cement factory spewing fumes and past small pueblos, turning onto a very non descript dirt road off the highway. A 4wd was quite necessary as the road was rough and long. About half way through, we picked up an unassuming local fisherman who was very greatful for the ride that would take him 4 hours on foot, and he told us which way to go. Just as the sun was rising, we pulled over a sandy dune and saw the small fishing village nestled into a sandy cove with some lefts running off a rock outcropping, looking really inviting.

The wave was really fun, coming fast off the rocks and peeling into the bay with a few makeable sections. Evan and Emmanuel got some awesome long rides as I sat on the outside and waited for the ones swinging wide. We were glad we came early because there was no wind and no one out save for a local fisherman paddling his traditional reed boat out past the surf. I was lucky enough to capture him on the cam and cant wait to try these reed boats out in Huanchaco. A few hours later some Brazilians showed up and the surf went down and blew out a little bit, but we had scored. I took some pictures of the eerie little abandoned village and its crustacean-made walls and we packed it up for the hostel. A great trek all the way. We now prepare to leave for Huanchaco via Trujillo.

Zombie Dolphins and Bone Ruins

Greetings from Pacasmayo, a lively little city by the beach a few kilometers north of Chicama. We arrived yesterday with the intention of catching some bigger waves at the point here, which we have been led to believe is a longer wave at times even then chicama. After a bus transfer at Paijan, a city barely rising from the filth of the desert, we took the Pacasmayo tour special. Aboard this bus a man preached to us about all kinds of ailments such as hepatitis, cirhosis of the liver, rheumatoid arthritis and gave us a miracle cure antidote composed of ginseng. The man must have been a preacher because he was quite passionate about this drug.

We were told Pacasmayo was a sketchier community then Chicama, which really put us on guard because the latter seemed pretty bad allready. But this turned out to be a total bad tip, as Pacasmayo is really pretty nice. We are staying at a nice if slightly expensive place called hostal Duke, named after Duke Kahanamoku of course. The locks dont work and the staff is kinda lazy but its a nice change, and were close to the beach. There is a lighthouse called El Faro way out about 2 km up the point from the little beachfront, and the waves break way up there. The swell looked small but we gave it a shot, running into two aussies on their way back who gave us the report: waste high but maybe getting better. We walked a sandy and rocky path out to the top of the point and found the gnarliest, most evil looking corpse of a dolphin waiting for us with a grimmace of thousands of sharp, golden teeth, blackened mummy skin and vacant holes for eyes. The stuff of nightmares.

The waves were not good, and this was nothing like Chicama. There seemed to be a bit more swell, but the wind was on it and nothing was connecting. We waited for the few promising sets we had seen from shore to no avail, and frustratingly drifted down the point with the few mushy lefts we managed to get. Maybe another day. There was tons of coral on the beach and I picked some up to bring back on the long march back to town. Here was the only similiarity between the two towns, they are both fishing villages situated a very long distance from the wave, and it takes forever to get back. The irony of the situation was finding a decently fun little beach break right out in front of the town, when we came looking for long point break lefts.

We went looking for a place to eat and found an awesome mexican (!) restaurant right by our hostel named El Charro, which turned out to be owned and run by a Peruvian-American couple, the wife was from Washington state, and the husband a local preacher. They had a cute little daughter who brought us books for us to read to her.  It was refreshing to speak some strait english for once. The food was really good, we got quesadillas and tacos and it turns out the place seemed to be a hangout of Americans and Canadians. We met another girl from california in the peace corps, and she and the owner told us about Pakatnamu, some ruins outside of town and how to get there, though they themselves had never been. We were game to see some ancient stuff and were off.

We took a shared taxi out of town to a small settlement called Cuidad de Dios (City of Gods), and from there a small mototaxi out into the desert behind the settlement. It seemed the taximan didnt know where we wanted to go, and we now assume almost no tourists came here and we were about to see why. In what seemed to be a forgotten wasteland used as a dump by the town lay some mounds and crumbling wall sections of an ancient adobe pueblo. The place looked like a day old sandcastle after alot of rain. There was trash everywhere and we were the only people around, even though a highway ran about 30 yards to the north of the site. We found what looked the outlines of dwellings and the main temple complex, with heavily eroded adobe bricks being the only indication that this was once a manmade settlement. The most awesome and chilling discovery came as we came over a mound to find scattered human remains. Femurs, skull fragments, even teeth and ancient textile fabric. This was definitly a burial ground long since looted and left for doubly dead, and must have been found archeologically insignificant as there was literally thousand year old human remains and artifacts baking in the sun for anyone to find or defile. Again, the places we were finding were crazy and surreal. We walked back down the dirtroad that the taxi had driven us down, though we told him to wait he was nowhere to be found. Figures. Back through garbage, ash, ancient wall, and small dirty pueblo we met an old man who seemed happy to greet us and send us in the wrong direction for the highway back to the settlement. We felt abit sketched out and booked it back by instinct or luck to the taxis back to Pacasmayo.

A late afternoon surf session was fun and refreshing, and we met a local ripper kid named Francisco who was really nice. He asked about fins, and being as I brought some for the purpose of giving away, gave them to him gladly. He was really appreciative, and we saw him again later at a cool little burger joint in town that showed peruvian surf movies. These kids are lucky to live on such a good wave and it shows in their expression and gratitude. We hope to head to Poemape tomorrow, a secretive left break situated in an abandoned fishing town, with a new friend from the hostel who has a car. Hopefully Francisco will be there too, and well get some of the solid waves weve been waiting for. Looks like well stay in Pacasmayo for the night and head to Huanchaco in the morning for the weekend.

And Finally some pics uploaded by Evan, my pictures are coming soon : http://picasaweb.google.com/EeShoe/PeruWeek1?feat=directlink

The Dogs of Chicama

I write this post from the seaside shantytown of Puerto Chicama, the ¨Longest Wave in the World¨. We arrived here yesterday morning following an 8 hour bus ride from Lima. The bus was among the nicest ive ever been on, far better then what most would imagine: reclining seats, tv screens, food provided and altogether really comfortable. We left at about 10 pm, following the panamerican south through the night…past dark empty pointbreaks and rotting pueblos and bones and ruins. It feels good to finally get out of Lima and see some real peruvian country.

Arriving in Trujillo, a place we were told to avoid (but didnt seem to bad), we got a direct bus out to chicama, riding past some real third world communities where a cows, sugar cane and fields are the staples of life. There were political slogans plastered over all the walls, ¨CAMBIO (change)¨. We got to chicama, the wave of our fantasies and were greeted with eager kids on mototaxis who took us and our boards to El Hombre, our hostel of choice overlooking the point. Our rooms were barebones but the view was perfect. The dogs of this town freak me out a little, they seem to stare at nothing for hours, but they seem well behaved and never bark.  I enjoyed taking many pictures.

The waves did look amazing…line after line of perfectly clean little zippers positively reeling off the top of a bizarre lunar landscape in the distance. We forgot our sleep deprived condition and pulled on our suits as fast as possible, dashing down the point pretty giddy and forgetting the rest of the world. Getting as far up as we could stand, we found waist to chest high lefts in a small protected cove that was beyond description. We knew the wave was not nearly full potential and it wasn´t connecting, but had a pretty fun session regardless. It was just us! Later came a thrid guy, named Max from Germany to bring our grand Chicama lineup to a total of 3. Water was really nice but it was a good call to bring boots. Trading long left after long left, we ventured slowly down the point back to the hostel in the distance.

Lunch of chicken, fish, rice and fries was served by the Señora and was welcomed, we both hadnt eaten for awhile. This place seemed to good to be true. Until the next day, when we awoke to find the waves much smaller then the previous day. We decided to take a trek up to the very top of the cap, a small mountain that was said to be sacred site of sacrifice to an ancient people. A small group consisting of me, Evan and some other traveling surfers took to the top of the cliffs, past the posh Chicama Surf Resort, a gigantic wind turbine that dominates the skyline, impossibly beautiful canyons and rock outcroppings, and out to the desolate reaches of the point. Along the way we met up with more of our new friends from the hostel, plus an awesome little dog that had followed all the way from town. This Dog was amazing, he looked like a miniature siberian husky mixed with a small wiener like dog, but he was mostly mountain goat, scaling cliff walls and vertical surfaces with ease in places we were all struggling. He seemed to be leading us the the sacrifice mountain.

We got to the moutain and it was amazing, rising about 250 feet from the sea, a sharpened dome of a mineral with ancient stairs carved into the side. It was also kind of an island, we had to wade across some ocean stream and take the narrow spiraling path up the sides. Above us soared some kind of seabird resembling a pterodactyl. The whole scene was really prehistoric and surreal. We reached the top and indeed found bones of seemingly human origin, as least a few femurs, scattered in the sand. The view was incredible, looking down the point at the swells wrapping in and making their 2 km journey down the sand point into the bay beyond and town. Time to get back..sun was hot and it was getting tiring. Dog lead us on fearlessly, with a huge amount of energy and charisma. Back at the hostel we rested for a bit until our next session back at the cove, which was not as good as our first. We have decided to try our luck at Pacasmay0 tomorrow, leaving in the morning. It should be a bit bigger and we´ll probably spend 2 days or more before going to Huanchaco for the weekend and then back to Chicama in time for a forcasted big south swell, our fingers crossed….

Peruvians like to Party

Day three after a really crazy night on the town with Felipe and family, our kindest regards to them for showing us how exactly peruvians have a good time. Me and Evan were recieved royally, bearing our bottle of Jameson the likes of which Peru is lacking, though in whiskey they are rich. Filthy rich. We started with the irish stuff, which lead to an intense family danceoff accompanied by some sick beats from the Cajone (a boxlike drum with soundhole), then of course congaline, more drinking and out came the masks! The shit was crazy. We got all kinds of tips from the family on what to see and do and what not to see and do (trujillo is apparently a cesspool of crime as of late. Avoid.) 

So after saying adios to the Urteagas, we went to club Voce in central Lima for a pretty great night consisting of mas whiskey, VIP room with bottles and all night dancing til 5 am. We made it, somewhat alive, back to our hostel as the sun was coming up and enjoyed the view from our overlook spot, unfortunatly the swell was down. A few hours of sleep later, we went on foot to Miraflores, about a mile from Barranco but maybe 2 footwise.

 Trekking along a beautiful flower lined sheer cliff and down some gullies, bolting across the coastal panamerican highway avoiding suicidal taxis, and across blazing hot sand and painful rocks, we hit the water and surfed a little right close to Makaja which shut down pretty quickly with the tide. We tried the other side (Makaja proper) and found a huge vertically stacked lineup with some really long mushburger waves very reminiscent of trailer parks in Montauk. An exhausting paddle to the outside was rewarded with some pretty long rides, especially Evan´s right that took him 7 turns to shore. We laid out and baked on the rocks, and tried some rock therapy by balancing them on our chests as we watched insane paragliders nearly miss each other by feet, avoiding a guaranteed smash  into the cliffs and subsequent plunge onto either the highway or the ocean; as well as children chucking rocks into the water all around us ( the peruvian beach pastime). All in all a good time so far. We leave for huanchaco tomorrow morning.

A Taste of Limaaa

Got our first surf of the trip today out in front of the hostel in costa verde, though it was probably a bit smaller than yesterday. Water was colder than expected and waves were clean and mostly about waist high, and we were the only ones out at this far from shore cobblestone peak. After the surf, we jumped in a taxi to check out the gigantic national museum which has alot of really interesting pottery and ancient art. Lunch was at a overpriced place near the museum but it was decent enough. Coming out of the museum we were met with some snooked out cabs who wouldnt take us a half a mile away for less than 10 soles or about 3 dollars. Their loss, we found one and were on our way to see my friend Felipe who I went to school with in NYC. We got to his place and struggled through an exclusively spanish conversation with his relatives until we met a cousin who was raised in sydney, australia and who obviously spoke perfect english. Felipe was over at the black market that we will check out later. We sipped whiskey while watching “This Is It”. Pretty epic. Planning for a big night out tonight in Lima with him and his hermanos and friends. Pictures to come soon.

Touchdown through the Clouds

We have touched down in overcast, hot and humid Lima. Plenty of Garua still around apparently, blocking our aerial view of any waves on the coast. All baggage arriving safely, we secured a taxi to our hostel in Barranco The Point. Walking around a little bit, we find a good overview spot for checking the swell and also got a cab over to La Herradura, which wasn’t breaking, but rewarded us with a cliffdiving spectacle that the local taxis must be in cohoots with. Feeling sunburned and constantly dehydrated, we must avoid a steady stream of peddlers. We ate a cool place in Barranco with a good ocean view and tried that Pisco Sour, a bit sweet for both our taste. Cuzqueno beer was pretty good though. Siesta at the hostel will prepare us for a hopeful night out in Lima tonight with a pub crawl or something like it. South swell is due to arrive tomorrow and we are fiending for it.

Goodbye Freezing North American 2009, Hello Warm Peruvian 2010…

Evan and I leave tomorrow on the red-eye new years flight out of JFK. I think it will be a new years to remember providing the airline provides a midnight toast, provided we are clear to take off the frigid and possibly icy runway. Packing is going well…switched to a bigger more rugged pack supplied by my cousin Nora who used it on a NOLS expedition to the great American desert. This pack will see plenty more desert and mountain action. My essentials: Camera (and new flip HD cam), sketchbook and materials, moleskine notebook, binoculars, wetsuit, “The Old Man and the Sea” and “Guns, Germs and Steel”, Peru guidebook, and trusty 6’0 NS parabolic quad (thats a surfboard). Many last minute details to tend to including Iphone or no Iphone. Im allready a fat target, so I dont know about bringing it. We plan to land in Lima at 6:30 am on New Years Day, finding a either a deserted, hungover or still drunken, raging city and hopefully meeting up with my friend Felipe, a Lima-native. It will be interesting.

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