OneWayTicket

Day 62: Sandboarding and some stress above the Nasca Lines

(Photo: The oasis at Ica. Now they boat on the water but originally it was known for its medicinal powers)

The pace has increased dramatically in Peru.  

After the Islands we hopped right back on our vintage Landcruiser and sped further south to the natural oasis of Ica for a spot of dune bashing. Like all the landscapes in Peru it´s a surreal place. From the outside it looks just like any neighbourhood, but when you step into the Desert Adventure office and through the youth hostel it is housed in, you come up an actual palm-fringed oasis. The ring of squat buildings around the oasis are mostly offices of tour operators and restaurants.

The husband´s tried dune bashing in Dubai where they use regular SUVs after reducing the tyre pressure. The steel cocoons make for an exciting but safe ride. In Peru, they have these open, jerryrigged jalopys with engines exposed to the sand and wind, and fat tyres. Only a loose seatbelt lies between you and death in the dunes. It was even more reassuring when we had to register our passport numbers and time of departure with the local police before we set offf. Thankfully, our guide, affectionately known to all as Pirate, was one of the oldest and most experienced in the area.

Dune bashing essentially involves you driving superfast to the head of the nearest dune and then plunging down it as your seat belt struggles to keep you in place and the sand/wind beat against your face and body. Sitting up front near Pirate, I took to it immediately. I was really beginning to feel like quite the adventurer when he suggested we try sandboarding.

Pirate whipped out the sandboards--essentially skateboards without wheels--from the back of the vehicle and began waxing their undersides. Our guide Annelies, an adventure queen who has done the Inca Trail, conquered glaciers and driven in a 4 X 4 up Cerro Blanco, offered to demonstrate. Incidentally, Cerro Blanco or the White Mountain (which was clearly visible as we drove further south later in the day) is where Peruvians hold the annual sandboarding championships.There, the course is a one kilometre drop.

Even those of you who have never made contact with a skateboard can sandboard. Annelies went first--she lay stomach down, upper body on the sandboard, hands locked in the loops on the board, elbows on the board, chin up, legs spread wide in the sand behind the board and...pushed. Off she went, hurtling down the dune, stopping only wayyy down below. The husband went next and from the sounds he made, it seemed as though he enjoyed it. When it was my turn I reasoned that even if I tumbled, it was only sand. And then push, off I went. This is an addictive sport and soon we were rolling and sliding down dunes like we had been doing this for years. We couldn´t carry our camera because of all that sand but Pirate took some on his cellphone and hopefully he will email them to us soon.

After lunch there was one more activity to go. We we headed for the town of Nasca where we were going to fly over the mysterious Nasca lines. Now the husband, his mother, her sister, and her daughter have dreamt of visiting the Nasca lines since the 1970s thanks to one Mister Erich von Daniken. The lines of Nasca are a series of drawings of birds, animals and geometric figures scratched on the plains in the area. They are as big as 1000 ft in size and, like many things in Peru, no one knows how they got there. Daniken´s Chariots of the Gods which came out in the late 60s proposed that the area was an extraterrestrial landing strip. Whatever.

Enroute to Nasca we passed through fields of chillies and cactii. Our driver Richard stopped near a cactus to show us the bacteria growing on the plant that is used to make lipstick. He pressed the white, dry toothpaste like substance and a berrylicious liquid oozed out. Spanish group Los Niches was singing El Gran Conquistador (about a womanizer) as we drove through the deserted foothills of the Andes on either side of the Pan American. Most of the time there was no sign of any people, houses or any patches of green...and there were certainly no tourists anywhere. Then we drove downhill into a green valley through fields, past the Rio Grande. The lifesize EMILIO was scratched on a rock but we were not yet at Nasca.

We passed through the town of Sacramento which seemed to be the Nagpur of Peru. Everyone was selling oranges and we finally succumbed and stopped at a roadside juice store (see photo) where we gulped large glasses of amazing OJ with honey. Then, it was up the ghats to the town of Nasca, past the sign Lineas de Nasca that made the husband all shivery. The Pan American highway goes straight through the Lines.

(Photo: From the ground, Nasca is just a featureless desert)

We headed straight for the airport. Apparently it was built only a year ago, before that you would find tourists all over the town, waiting at their hotels for their respective charter flights to take off from their own little bases.

When we first went up in the dinky little six-seater, I had a serious moment of panic. There were lines everywhere. Arteries running crazily all over the ground. I´m never going to distinguish the dog in this mess, I thought. Later I learned that the mess was courtesy Mr Danekin. His book had a cult following and hordes came to see the lines and drove right over them and around them. Now nobody is allowed on the pampas but the damage was done. Then, the pilot was gesturing wildly, yelling through the headphones..Below the wing, below the wing, the whale, the whale...

Oh no, I can´t see a thing, and then, there it was, quite clearly, a whale with a pole running through it. Of course once the three people on the right side of the aircraft have seen the drawing the pilot does a giddy 360 degree turn so the three on the other side of the aircraft can get an equally good view. Spinning around the skies looking for animal and bird drawings is not my idea of fun, I thought, glancing over at the husband who didn´t seem to have a problem spotting any of the images in the pampas below. He was in heaven.

I confess I almost missed the trapezoids but then it became easier. The drawing of the astronaut was on a rock so he was easy. The husband helped me spot the monkey and the dog. I swear I saw a little boy right near the dog but nobody else seemed to see him. The hummingbird was super clear on a raised mound. Alctras, the parrot, the condor, spider, the tree I saw them all. On the flight back the noisy pilot suddenly went silent and looked like he was staring down. The Frenchman sitting next to him looked alarmed and a couple of minutes of staring at him closely, he nudged the pilot. The pilot looked at him, gave him one of his wild grins and yelled okayy...

Later the curious, grinning staff revealed that we were only the third and fourth Indians to take this flight. What on earth are all of you doing?

(Photo: Spot the spider)

(Photo: The view from the rickety monoplane)

(Photo: The husband with our excitable pilot)