Con Mimi en Paracas

“Era hermoso Paracas; tenía desierto, de oasis, de balneario; arena, palmeras, flores, veredas y caminos por donde chicas que yo no me atrevía a mirar, pocas ya, las últimas, las más atrasadas, se iban perezosas a dormir esa siesta de quien ya se acostumbró al hotel de lujo.  Tímidos y curiosos, mi padre y yo entramos al comedor.”

-Alfredo Bryce Echenique “Con Jimmy en Paracas” Cuentos Completos

“Water, water, water....There is no shortage of water in the desert but exactly the right amount , a perfect ratio of water to rock, water to sand, insuring that wide free open, generous spacing among plants and animals, homes and towns and cities, which makes the arid West so different from any other part of the nation. There is no lack of water here unless you try to establish a city where no city should be.”

-Edward Abbey Desert Solitaire: A Season in the Wilderness

Spending time with my grandmother is an experience.  This past weekends adventure to Paracas, Huachachina, and Nasca (three destinations in the province of Ica) was no exception.  We left our hotel at approximately balls o’clock Friday morning (4:30 am) and traveled south along the Pan-American Highway, which according to the Guinness Book of World Records happens to be the world’s longest motorable road.

Our journey began in Paracas.  Now a major international tourist destination, Paracas was once the weekend retreat of the limeño elite.  In one of my classes we read a short story by Alfredo Bryce Echenique entitled, “Con Jimmy en Paracas”; the story unfolds in Hotel Paracas, a luxury resort, and deals with class and race relations.  Naturally, I was curious about the Hotel Paracas, and mentioned to our guide that I would like to see the place (yes we had a guide, when you travel with grandma you travel in style, at least relatively speaking).  I was picturing a quick stop by the front gate, but Oscar had something else in mind.  He told me that they would never let him into the hotel, but that if I pretended that I wanted to book a bungalow we could probably get a private tour.  I knew that this would give Oscar the unprecedented opportunity to see inside the world of the one percent, and I wanted to give my acting skills in Spanish a try. 

Well, the three of us walked into that resort like we owned the place.  Never mind that I was wearing a pair of jeans that were starting to rip in the crotch (Well, what do you expect?  I only brought two pairs of pants with me) and a Bowdoin sweatshirt that had seen better days; we were going to see the Hotel Paracas.  The sad truth is that sometimes being white can be a valuable means of gaining access to the exclusive.  Sometimes it means that you are dressed for the occasion, even if its formal and your clothes are not; sometimes it means that you are beautiful, even if you might feel differently; and sometimes it means that you are wealthy, even if you are just a broke college student who works in a dining hall to make ends meet.

I marched right up the front desk and explained that my friends and I from Católica (shameless name dropping) were thinking about booking a room in a resort to relax after finals, and I wanted to see the rooms before we made a final decision.  The staff didn’t even pause, and an impeccably dressed young man materialized to show us the grounds.  The interior of the bungalow was ultramodern and simple-a harmonious mix of calming colors and bamboo facades; the gardens were impeccably manicured; and the infinity pool was an aquamarine oasis-you could even pay to rent a private sitting room nearby, imagine that.  And no luxury hotel would be complete without the obligatory collection of artifacts from  a local indigenous population.  So it didn't really surprise me to find a small collection of authentic Nasca ceramics displayed in glass cases by the gift shop.

 Just a taste of paradise...

Back in the car, Oscar and I burst into nervous laughter.  But I couldn’t help but feeling a little bit sick.  In this enclave in the desert, the difference between the haves and the have nots came sharply into focus.

Later, we wandered through the Paracas National Reserve-Peru’s oldest marine reserve.  Of the park’s 335,000 ha about 60% are comprised of marine waters, but the reserve includes a tropical desert and preserves various archaeological sites, as well.  In other words (excuse my French) it’s really fucking cool!  On the edge of the park there is a small, but informative and well organized, interpretation center that provides information about the area's geology and biology.  The museum has a strong focus on environmental consevation.  In 1998, Peru was identified by Conservation International as one of 17 megadiverse countries in the world, and Peru will be one of the top 3 countries affected by climate change.  In other words, my adopted home has pretty high stakes in the important problem facing society today. 

 Before the earthquake of 2007 this was an arch and the symbol of the reserve

 Blustery and beautiful

 The cliffs of Paracas 

Just horsing around

On our way to our hotel we stopped in Ica to tour a vineyard and sample Pisco.  That night we stayed in Huachachina, a small village geared at tourism, located around a desert oasis with reputed medical properties outside of the city of Ica.  All I can say, is move over Cusqueños, you have a lot to learn from los bricheros huachineros.  The men in this town were truly shameless; I mean, who hits on a girl traveling with her grandmother, seriously.

 Pisco on pisco on pisco 

 A small sample of local liquors...

Desert oasis 

The next morning we returned to Paracas for a boat tour of las Islas Ballestas, also known as the mini-Galapagos Islands of Peru.  Thanks to the nutrient rich water of the Humboldt Current, las Islas Ballestas are home to a plentitude of wildlife: namely birds (including Peruvian boobies, penguins, and tendrils) as well as seals and sea lions.  The tour lasts about 2 hours and includes, in addition to wildlife sitings, a view of the a geoglyph and the guano operations on the island.

Candelabra?  Navigation Device?  Cactus?

 Didn't get a picture of the porpoises but I got a picture of people taking a picture of the porpoises

 Alfred Hitchcock anyone?

 Small scale fishing using traditional techniques is allowed in the reserve

 Rocks and bird shit

That afternoon we took an exhilarating dune buggy ride into the desert.  Mimi made more noise than everyone else in the buggy combined.  For those interested, there was the option to sand board (basically desert snow boarding).  The group was pretty international; France, America, the Netherlands, Ecuador, and Peru were among the country represented.  In most cases, Spanish was the only common language.

 The desert

 Two lonely adventurers 

 Wind sculpted sand scape

 Lista?  Sí!

 Sunset behind our dune buggy

Lawrence of Arabia?

Better then sledding-its not cold!

We spent our final day in Nasca.  In the morning we flew over the Nasca lines in a miniscule four passenger plane; probably one of the most incredible things I have seen in my entire life.  And the fact that the gentleman from Ireland seated next to me spent the second half of the flight discreetly vomiting into a plastic bag only served to enhance the experience.  That afternoon we visited the ancient Cantalloc aqueducts before heading back to Lima.  

 Flight cast and crew; representing: US, Peru, Portugal, and Ireland

View from the bottom of the well

Infinity

The Cantalloc aqueduct

On our way back north, the bright sun of Nasca softly faded to the omnipresent grey of the legendary cielo limeño.  Lima was even drearier and more depressing than when I had left three days before; winter has officially started and there is absolutely no escaping the famous grizzle (grey, drizzle-a word that Adrienne and I coined on the combi one morning).  But like the memory of a summer past or a quote from Casablanca, "we'll always have Paracas".