Nazca, Peru
Tuesday, September 10, 2002

I had three days left and two things I wanted to do. First, I planned to take a flight over the Nazca Lines in southern Peru. Then I wanted to visit an e-friend in Lima. It was someone to whom I had been writing for years, a fellow traveler. We had helped each other plan trips over the years and I thought it was time me met face-to-face.

Once again I had Raymi Travel arrange my transportation - this time they got me a bus ticket to Nazca. Much to my surprise the bus, an Ormeno "Royal Class," left at 9:00 instead of 1:30 as I had been led to believe. This meant getting up early again, as we needed to leave the hotel by 8:00 to navigate the rush hour traffic.

The streets were packed with cars and buses and the going was very slow. In all the vehicles around me I saw sleepy faces, reflecting how I felt. In the end we reach the bus station in about 45 minutes. It was small and clean but there were no signs indicating which bus was going where, so I asked at the information desk. They told me that my bus wasn't ready yet and wouldn't be leaving until 10:00 a.m. Instead of just sitting around I walked several block to where I found a food stand and bought some snacks for the journey.

Back at the station a double-decker bus pulled up to the departure gates a little before 10:00 and Nazca was called out. I boarded and stowed my bag in the overhead bin. The bus was the most luxurious one I had ever been on. The leather seats had footrests and seat belts plus there was a TVs every few seats. I was siting in seat number 2 - on the aisle in the very front - so I was going to have a great view of the road ahead.

My seatmate was a lovesick young woman with raven curls. I had seen her hanging on her boyfriend as I boarded. Now she was sitting by the window waving at him. As we rolled out of the station, she started to quietly cry, clearly distressed to be leaving. After 10 or 15 minutes, as we reached the outskirts of Lima she turned and said something softly to me. I broke my heart to admit to her that I didn't speak Spanish. She nodded sadly and continued starring out the window. I suspect she just wanted someone to talk to.

We rode along with the gray Pacific Ocean on one side and large sand dunes on the other. First, we passed graffiti covered slums, then huge industrial plants with high fences and finally rich-looking vacation homes also fenced in. Soon a movie started - a stupid US comedy with Spanish subtitles. I tried not to watch but there was little to look at outside except miles of sand. Every now and then we would pass through a small settlement but mostly it was just the sand and the stupid American comedy. After about four hours we stopped in Ica to drop off a few passengers and to pick up some new ones.

The bus continued on at a steady pace and finally after a little more than six hours - and three movies - we arrived in Nazca. I stepped off the bus into a crowd of touts trying to interest me in their hotel and tours. As I had a reservation at the Hotel Alegria I asked around and quickly found their tout. He told me to wait while he tried unsuccessfully to round up more customers. Then he put me in a taxi for a two-minute ride to the hotel - I could see the building from the bus stand and could have easily walked there in the time I stood waiting.

At the hotel I picked the wrong door and ended up in their travel office. This was fine because I wanted to see if I could get a flight over the lines yet today - I had seen planes in the sky as we neared Nazca. The agent said there were no more flights today and suggested I wait until the next day, so I made a reservation for 9:00. I wanted to go earlier but that was the best he could do. I also asked them to get me a bus ticket back to Lima in the afternoon. What was odd was that they didn't seem to have a reservation for me. I had emailed and they had assured me of one.

Next, the agent walked me next door to the hotel and got me a room - again they didn't seem to have a reservation despite my emails and their conformation. It also looked like I got the last room, so I counted myself lucky all around.

I left my bag in my room - it was spartan but serviceable - and headed into town for a look around before it got too dark to take pictures. It was only a short walk to the flower-filled main square, which was surrounded by shops and stores. It was just starting to cool off and businesses were reopening. Parents were walking their kids and friends were greeting each other.

Around the corner from the main square I found several young men making a "painting" in the street. They had covered the asphalt with sand and were "painting" floral patterns on it with white powder and flower petals. Just behind them were two floats with statues of the Virgin Mary sitting on them. Standing next to the floats were several groups of young men - apparently they were going to carry the platform in some kind of procession.

By now it was dark and the area was lit by the florescent bulbs which surrounded each statue - there was an arch of bare bulbs over each. Behind the floats was a small brass band and, bringing up the rear, a small fire truck with a generator to power the florescent bulbs.

I stood back a bit and took a few pictures. The flash attracted the attention of the young men gathered around the floats. They called me over and insisted I take their pictures. When I showed them the little images I was mobbed. After I had shown the pictures around people started lining up to have their pictures taken too. One lady ran off and came back with her son. In the end I had to break free for fear I would end up spending the whole evening there.

From a distance I watched the procession start up. The young men picked up the floats and, swaying in unison, marched slowly forward while the band played behind them. On all sides locals walked along carrying candles. It was a lovely sight in the dark streets. I followed along for awhile and finally broke away to visit the nearby market. I walked around for another hour and ran into the procession two more times - Nazca is a pretty small town.

Then, as usual, I stopped at a quiet café and drank a beer while I worked on my journal and edited my photos. Around 9:00 I headed back to the hotel.

Next morning there was a knock on my door at 6:30. I got "Buenos dias," but from there I didn't understand a word. As I was due to fly at 9:00 I assumed that someone had the wrong door. I replied, "And good morning to you too," and rolled back over.

About 5 minutes later I got another knock. This time I got up and went to see what was going on. A smiling fellow I recognized from the travel agent was standing at the door. With a little sign language and few English words he made me understood that he wanted me to fly at 7:00 and not at 9:00 - this was great news as I had read the earlier you go the lower the sun and the more distinct the patterns.

I quickly washed and went down to a waiting van. There were six of us and we were driven directly to the airport where I could see the planes were being prepared for the morning flights. They were tiny Cessnas. After waiting about 10 minutes - during which I tried to wake up - we were divided into two groups and led to different planes.

I sat in the front with the pilot and a French couple sat in the rear. After a five-minute pre-flight check we were ready to go. It looked like the prefect time: the sun was still low and the air was perfectly still. I had been warned how rough the ride can be if it's windy. Many passengers spend their whole flight sick instead of looking at the patterns.

We took off and within 5 minutes we were over the first design - the whale. The people who inhabited this rock-covered desert created these lines and designs sometime before 600 A.D. They did this by moving the darker top rocks to expose the lighter soil underneath. No one is completely sure why but I get the idea that the lines and patterns were created over a long period - maybe as long as a 1000 years.

There seem to be several possible reasons. Some of the lines connect important religious sites while other seem have been used to track the movement of the stars to tell the season. Others seemed to me to be purely decorative. The only thing for sure is that the patterns and lines are all too big to be seen entirely from the ground.

As we flew over a pattern the pilot would point it out by saying something like, "The wing is now pointing at the humming bird, the humming bird." He would have to shout this several times as it was very noisy in the plane. He would then sort of pirouette over the pattern so we could photograph it from various angles. There were lines as longs a two miles and animal outlines as big as a football field. Some of the patterns were quite hard to make out but others were as distinct as if drawn with a pen on paper.

The flight lasted about 30 minutes. Back at the airport there was another group preparing to leave and a van waiting to take us back to the hotel. All and all it was a very well run and most satisfying flight - well worth the 6-hour bus ride from Lima.

At the hotel I took a shower, packed my bag, and went back to the travel office to see if there was any chance of getting an earlier bus back to Lima. "Only the local bus. It's better to wait," I was told. This was in fact good advice but, on reflection, I realized that if I had wanted to leave immediately I could have just gotten a bus to Ica - they leave constantly - and from there picked up the next bus to Lima.

Instead I had breakfast and then wandered back to the market. Like Puerto Maldonado, Nazca was best seen either in the morning or at night. The streets were now full of shoppers and the market was very lively.

Then I checked out of the hotel, walked across the street to an Italian restaurant and had lunch. Afterwards I sat for a while just watching the activity in the street and then went to find my ride back to Lima.

The bus pulled out at exactly 1:30. It was another Ormeno "Royal Class" bus and it took a little more than six-hours and three movies to get back to Lima. At the bus station I got a taxi (10 sol) out to La Molina where my e-friend Bette lived. She had given me precise directions, which I showed to the driver. They must have been pretty good because he only made one wrong turn. I arrived at Bette's apartment at 8:15.

There was a guard at the gate, plus I had to have Bette buzz me in. After a brief, "It's nice to meet you after so long," she gave me a cold beer and tour of all the treasures she had collected in Dubai, her last teaching assignment. After that we had several more beers (well, I did - she had to teach the next day) and talked about my experience in Peru and travel in general. All too soon it was time for bed. She offered me a tour of her school the next day and we agreed to meet at 9:00.

I slept in, had a leisurely breakfast and then walked across the street to the school. At the entrance there was a security station with one-way glass where I asked to see Bette. I had to fill out a form and leave my passport. Then a call was made and permission was granted for me to enter. I was buzzed in and given a visitor's badge to wear - they were very serious about security.

Inside was a large grassy area with several long two-story classroom buildings. I quickly found Bette's classroom. She teaches English and had a very nice room with windows that overlooks an athletic field behind the school. In the next hour she showed me the library, theater, and computer lab, and I also met several of her fellow teachers. She worked in a very nice setting.

After that I took a taxi back to Mercado Indio in Miraflores where I spent the next 5 hours fulfilling my gift giving obligations. I stopped several times to eat and finally at 4:00 took a taxi back to Bette's where I spent the rest of the afternoon talking to her.

Finally at about 8:00 I got a taxi to the airport where I checked in for my flight back to the States. Peru had been more interesting and fun that I had expected. In fact as I write I better appreciate how much I enjoyed Machu Picchu, the Sandoval Lodge, the market in Otavalo and the Nazca Lines - these were truly unique and fascinating places to visit. I also enjoyed the back streets and less frequented places in Peru and Ecuador. It was a great trip but, as always, I was glad to be heading home.

Ann Arbor, Michigan
November 2002

Part One: Cuzco & Machu Picchu
Part Two: Puerto Maldonado
Part Three: Otavalo & Quito, Ecuador
Part Five: Travel details

Read more of my travelogues

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