Mancora and Lima, Peru

Firstly, I must apologise for the infrequency of my updates, I've been struggling to get decent internet connection anywhere that will allow me to download photos! Anyways, here goes..

After my shortish stint in Ecuador I got a hellish 18 hour bus ride down to Mancora beach, in the North of Peru. Now usually long bus rides aren't a problem, in some ways I kind of like them, they're a chance to chill out for a while and get to know the kinds of people I wouldn't usually get much chance to meet. On this occasion however, I was told upon getting on the bus that the seat that I had booked and paid for was not available and I would have to wait for 4 hours for a seat. So, after 9 hilarious hours of huddling in a corner on the floor of the coach trying to keep the feeling in my legs, I finally got my seat and attempted to get some shut eye. Daylight was breaking though, and the bright sunshine refused to let me sleep. My first day on Mancora beach was spent in a bit of a daze. I somehow managed to check into my hostel, Kokopelli Beachpakers, a great little new hostel in the centre of town with a pool and a swim up bar! The day was spent chilling out with some of the other residents, and the evening was spent at the bar of the area's main hostel, Loki, a full on resort of a hostel with a reputation for being party central.

The beach at Mancora.

Pretty much every day in Mancora was relaxed, soaking up some sun, walking on the beach, sleeping and checking out the local nightlife. Loki held a big party on St. Patrick's day which was a blast and complete hedonism, but Mancora was one of those places that is great for a few days, for an ageing backpacker like myself though, three or four days in the party vibe was wearing thin so it was time to move on.

Paddy's day with Sabryna.

She went a bit overboard with the bodypaint!

I tentatively booked another bus ticket and headed down to Lima. Luckily on this occasion I ended up on an incredible luxury coach that was something like flying business class. They provided food and drinks, a huge seat that pretty much turned into a bed, blankets, pillows etc. It was a great trip that enabled me to arrive in Lima on Monday totally refreshed and ready for some sightseeing. After checking into Kokopelli's sister hotel in the very safe and modern Miraflores region of the city, I headed two minutes around the corner and got a great lunch for the equivalent of less than £2. Some soup, ceviche and grilled fish with rice was great and just what I needed to prepare me for a busy couple of days. After all, I'd only given myself 2 days to see as much of Lima as possible!

Amazing ceviche in Lima.

In the evening, as soon as I stepped out of the hostel I bumped into a group of guys that I'd hung out with in various stops along my trip, so we ended up going out for some dinner, wandering around the streets and craft markets, and getting chatted up by various dubious groups of local girls who then wanted to take us to various local nightspots. I bailed early with in the hope I could keep hold of my wallet.

Parque Central by night.

First impressions of Lima were great, after experiencing Quito and not being that impressed, I felt so much more at home in Lima. The streets felt safe, the Miraflores area was incredibly clean and on the whole the people were very friendly and approachable. I did however accept that Miraflores was something of a tourist haven, so I vowed to venture out to the old part of town the next day to see some more authentic and historical parts of the city. Upon getting back to my hostel I met up with a great guy called Lorenzo in my dorm. Turns out that Lorenzo is a food and wine journalist in his native Rome and is quite a wine buff. We agreed to hang out the next day in the old town and then check out what Lima had to offer gastronomically in the evening.

Incredible architecture around Lima's Plaza Mayor.

Heading into the old part of town wasn't exactly what I expected and I can't put my finger on why. The area was a hub for the financial sector workers with something like 11 major banks having their head offices there. It was buzzing with restaurants, the odd tourist, and a lot of police officers not doing much apart from getting their boots polished. After a bit of sightseeing around the main squares, we headed to the Plaza San Martin and the Gran Hotel Bolivar. Apparently they had Lima's best Pisco Sour, a drink synonymous with Peru, typically made with Pisco (a colourless grape brandy), Peruvian Lime juice, egg white, sugar and bitters. Their version didn't disappoint. Apparently Chile is also famous for it's Pisco Sours, but according to Antony Bourdain, Chilean versions are boring, the Peruvians come up trumps on this count!

Pisco Sour a la Gran Hotel Bolivar.

I'd heard that Lima had a great restaurant scene and one of South America's biggest celebrity chef's, Gaston Acurio Jaramillo, had his flagship restaurant, Astrid y Gaston, not far from my hostel. I didn't think I'd get the chance to check the restaurant out though, as firstly it was pretty unlikely that I'd find anybody else on the Gringo trail who'd be up for it, and secondly, it would be a bit of a stretch from my usual $5 a day spend on dinner. Turned out though that Lorenzo's office were pestering him for some reports so he was going to check it out anyway to write a review. I thought that letting him go alone would be rude of me, so I agreed to tag along!

The restaurant at Astrid y Gaston.

So I know this blog is meant to be more of a travel journal rather than a restaurant blog, but I think that this restaurant was worthy of it's own section, it seriously was that good!

Upon entering the restaurant I must admit I felt a little out of place in my flip-flops, even though when booking they stated that they had no dress code. This was obviously where all the beautiful people of Lima hung out. You can see by the photo that it was a pretty swanky place. There were two main dining rooms, as well as a bar area, and we were lucky enough to be seated in the dining room that was pretty much a shrine to wine. My kind of place. There was a choice of three different menu's, a 12 course 3 hour extravaganza, a 5 course tasting menu offering samples of some of Peru's best cuisine, and the standard a la carte fayre. After much deliberation we chose the 5 course offering, rightly presuming that it would give us an insight into the history and culture of Peruvian cuisine, albeit on a rather grand scale.

We started with a range of 3 tasting items to accompany another awesome Pisco Sour, one of which was fancifully served mounted dangling from a wire in a light crispy cone containing raw tuna, shallots, chillies and a couple of other nondescript ingredients. Along with this we had an incredible bread board with some traditional and more modern creations including Crostini with Quinua and Chilli. Next we went on to a dish containing two different ceviches. The first, on the left, was the traditional option, containing octopus, another whit fish I didn't get the name of, red onions, chillies and plenty of Lime juice. It was tangy yet almost sweet to eat. On the right we had a more contemporary offering, with similar ingredients, just prepared in a slightly different way ad this time with the traditional accompaniment of crispy corn.

More Ceviche, I think I'm addicted!

After our starters, Pisco Sours almost finished, it was Lorenzo's turn to attack the wine list. We ended up settling on a 2010 Argentio Torrontes from Los Crios, which although young, was a good choice and complimented the rest of our meal very well. Our next courses involved some traditional pureed potatoes served cold. With broad beans, crab meat, avocado punta, crispy Peruvian freshwater shrimp and a chilli and shellfish coral emulion, which although was very tasty was neither of our favourite courses. Next up came some fresh fish and shellfish from the daily catch which was great and incredibly fresh. Next up, being a red meat course, we decided to opt for a taster of a Peruvian red wine, we settled on a Malbec from the Ica region which surprisingly was nothing like what either of us expected. The Argentinian Malbecs I know and love, produced in a cooler climate, tend to be quite punchy and chocolatey. This Peruvian version was comparatively thin with very little body. It was an acceptable choice to go with our next course however, traditional Lomo Saltado, with Tacu Tacu. The Lomo Saltado being a dish made with strips of tender salted beef with peppers and soy sauce (a typical feature in Peruvian cuisine), the Tacu Tacu being a kind of fried rice cake, all topped off with a fried egg similar in size to a quail's egg. Delicious.

Lorenzo and our feast.

Our dessert was a trio of dishes, the first one being a selection of sorbets which were beautifully refreshing, next came a kind of ring donut, similar to a churro but with some curious spices such as anise that to my palate seemed a little weird. Finally came a ridiculously indulgent 'Suspiro Limeno', made with milk, sugar and egg yolks. If you've ever tried Dulce de Leche that is the closest thing I can compare it too. By this stage in the meal we were at the 'just one more wafer' stage, ready to burst. Then came the petit fours, a magic box containing drawers of dozens of sweet items such as jellies, biscuits and macaroons containing coca that apparently made some people 'a little bit loco, a bit kind of...energetic', we ate them all the same and topped it off with the best espresso I've had so far in South America. All in all a great meal but not the typical diet of someone on the Gringo Trail.

Our magic box of Petit Fours.

Anyway, to finish up, here's a nice little picture from Plaza San Martin, outside the Gran Hotel Bolivar. 

The Statue of San Martin in Lima's City centre.

I've just arrived in Cusco now and am ready for a bit of adventure. Next update will probably be after a bit of trekking to Macchu Picchu. So expect lots more photos!

People in Ecuador wear funny hats!

After a few days in Salento it was time to start heading south and say goodbye to Colombia. I wasn't there nearly long enough and am all too aware that I sacrificed some amazing opportunities to learn a bit of Spanish. Hearing stories from friends on the road about treks to the Lost city and time spent in the Northern park of Tayrona was heartbreaking!

From Salento it took a good few days to get down to Quito. After about 5 different buses, elongated stops in the Colombian towns of Popayan, Cali, Pasto and Ipiales, some of the most incredible views (see photo below), a stressful border crossing to the Ecuadorian town of Tulcan and another 5 hour bus ride down to Quito, I arrived at my destination on the 3rd and headed straight to my lodgings for a couple of nights, the brilliant hostel in between the New and Old parts of Town called 'Hostel Revolution'. Turns out the manager is from Cambridge, so we managed to string up a rapport straight away.

I spent the evening and the next day planning stuff for Dave's arrival on 5th and getting to know the city a little. When the fifth came around I was there at the airport, cheesy grin in tow, ready for some adventures. As it was my Birthday the next day, Dave had organised a plush hotel to stay in for a few days called 'NU Hotel'. And although only $35 a night each, was something of a welcome bit of luxury compared to the $7 hostels I'd been staying in. It had an incredible shower with, get this, hot water, and it didn't feel like someone was just relieving themselves on you're head.

Absurd views driving down towards Ecuador. Photographs unfortunately cannot 

portray the vastness of the landscape!

Our fist night together in Quito was spent in a highly recommended restaurant called Achioti that was famous for it's modern interpretations of classic Ecuadorian cuisine. The food was OK, but the evening was brilliant, in the six weeks since I'd seen Dave in Miami we'd both developed so much to talk about. However, it was Dave's first night, and the immediate switch from his usual life at sea level to arriving in Quito at almost 3km above sea level meant that an early night was in order. We went back to the hotel, he gave me a card from my family, I received a video from my friends back home, everyone was wishing me a happy 30th birthday. For the first time I felt a little homesick but it made me appreciate Dave's presence there even more. To all of you that sent me Birthday wishes, thanks guys, it means a lot when you're halfway across the world.

Saturday the 6th came round, I officially felt old, but that was no excuse. There was lots to do. We started off by touring the old town and soaking up some of the carnival atmosphere. There were huge parades of freakily dressed people, marching bands and hundreds of kids squirting foam and silly string at everyone else. It was like a mini version of what goes on in Rio every year, and a fantastic experience. From there we hired a cab for a few hours, and Carlos our driver gave us a half day tour of some of the best bits Quito had to offer. We headed up hill to the famous viewpoint of El Panecillo, a ridiculous religious monument that opens up to an amazing vista of the city. Next we headed to 'Mitad del Mundo', a vast monument signifying the Equator line (even though it was later discovered that the true equator line is about 200 metres away). We ate a typical lunch of Empanadas, soup, corn and cheese, and discovered the local brew, Pilsener, which unfortunately only comes in bottles the size of a small horse.

Not sure who that is meant to be, looks nice though!

The view from El Panecillo.

Carnival processions.

Being a Sunday, we were both quietly concerned that my birthday evening might be a little quiet around town. Sure enough, it was dead. We wandered around and saw fewer than a dozen people in the central Mariscal region. Luckily, I had an ace up my sleeve. I'd heard off a local about the old street in town called La Ronda being a particular hub for the locals at Carnival time, so Dave and I got a taxi and headed up there. On the 10 minute journey there I swear I didn't see another soul. I was getting worried. On arrival however it became pretty self explanatory. Everyone in Quito was on this one, historical street. From what we could see however there wasn't any other Gringos in sight. Within 5 minutes of being on La Ronda Dave and I were covered in foam. The stuff smelt like bubblegum and stung like shaving rash, but hell, everyone was using it so it must have been safe (upon closer inspection the contents were pretty nasty with recommendations to keep away from skin, especially eyes). Thousands of cans of the stuff were covering kids hair, getting up the noses of old men, and right on mine and Dave's t***s!! There was only one option! Join in. We spent the next hour having a ridiculous foam war, by the end of it we were a mess, but smiling gallantly at our joint misfortune and luck at finding this little locals extravaganza. We stopped only halfway through for a couple of cups of canelazo (the local concoction of sugar, cane spirit, lemon and cinnamon, served hot...delicious), and some more local nibbles.

Dave in action!

After our little jaunt and a quick splash of water on the face to wash off the remnants of foam, we headed back to the Mariscal area for a beer and to see if it had picked up. We ended up chatting to a guy I used to go to school with in Aylesbury (coincidence), moved onto another bar and bumped into a few of the guys I'd met in Panama and joined them for beers (coincidence), Dave gets chatting to the Belfast boys and realises, 'wait a minute' we met in Fritz and Franz (Dave's local in Miami) a couple of months ago (such a small world). Anyway, needless to say, it being my birthday a few beers were sunk, but we ended up hobbling back to the hotel fairly sober and at a reasonable hour.

The next day we headed for an early lunch/late breakfast at a shockingly bad Ecuadorian attempt at a BBQ joint, then headed for the TelefoniQo cable car in the north of the city. After getting totally baffled by Ecuadorian logic (express queue tickets same price as normal tickets), we headed up a further 800 metres to the peak of a huge mountain and an incredible view of Quito and the surrounding mountains for miles around. Dave could barely look through most of the journey up forever, mumbling something about wanting to see his wife again. Wuss! Later that evening we headed out for Tapas ($25, all you can eat AND drink, good wine too), a dangerous move but good fun.

The next day we headed South to the small town of Banos (annoyingly Dave got 'Gringo Taxed' on the way down on the bus, some of his personal possessions were swiped from right next to him by a local magician). The first 24 hours in Banos was therefore spent in various police stations ( nobody knew where we were meant to go, eventually we were driven around town in a police jeep which was fun) trying to get Dave a police report for insurance purposes. After the stresses of trying to sort the situation out we ended up just crashing on the first night and pretty much the second too, just relaxing and generally just taking it easy.

We eventually made it out to enjoy some of what the town was famous for and what gave it its name, the naturally occurring thermal baths. Our hotel 'Volcano', was located just round the corner from one of the most famous baths so we headed straight there. Upon arrival it was a little unnerving seeing the colour of the water, a murky yellow, but after unconvincingly being told that this colour was naturally occurring due to the high mineral content which made it extremely good for your skin, we jumped in. The baths were steaming hot and very relaxing. After 20 mins or so you have no choice but to cool down a little though. There are two choices. Stand under a stunning 200ft natural waterfall, or jump into a plunge-pool that somehow defied the law of physics by being well below 0 degrees. They were both chilling experiences.

The view from the bus coming in to Banos.

The 'naturally' yellow thermal spas and freezing yet beautiful waterfalls.

Dave and I also headed out and hired a buggy one afternoon, which was essentially a 4WD go-cart that lacked in the ability to steer or brake effectively. We headed slightly up the Volcano and then down the slopes into the bottom of the valley about 10km away from the town, across dirt tracks and through stunning scenery. After a stop to swap over, I jumped into the driving seat and found we had a problem. The buggy also refused to start effectively! I tried to ring the company we hired the cart off to get them to come and help, but we were in the wilderness, miles from anywhere, I had no reception. After an hour of the two of us pushing the offending vehicle to the nearest road we managed to find a cafe/tour operators site and tried to use their phone. They didn't have one! I walked for ages trying to find a signal on my phone whilst Dave stayed with the cart. Eventually I stumbled upon a little roadside Cafe that we had stopped at earlier for a drink and approached the little hunchbacked old man sat on the stool outside.

'Senor, un problema, mis amigo es con me buggy y es muerto'

'Si, merde, policia, merde, merde' he replied

I wondered what the hell was going on as he scrambled for the phone. I tried to say to him that the police weren't needed, but that all I needed to do was phone the company that we hired the buggy from. Now he looked confused. After much deliberation I worked out that I had basically come to him and said 'slight problem, my friend is dead', ...fair enough, I can understand his concern. Needless to say his phone wasn't working, and he was blind as a bat so couldn't get it sorted.

I returned back to the car park where the buggy was waiting with my thankfully still living friend and hitched a lift back to town on a 'chiva' bus (party bus full of drunken people dancing to Euro-pop). After finding the hire company, the manager, a super friendly chap called Marcus, and I headed out to find Dave in his van. An hour later we found the spot, Dave bored with his own company, me shaking in my boots from Marcus' hair raising driving. Well, what happened next was a little terrifying. Marcus couldn't get the buggy started, so said that one of us would have to sit in the cart and steer while he towed the thing back to the office. As I had been the one who headed in to town and sorted help, Dave agreed to do this. All I can say is that it's not a good idea to tow a vehicle with a van that obviously has an exhaust problem (Dave's poor lungs), and it's not a good idea to take a corner at speed against oncoming traffic. Sometimes the tow rope can get caught in the wheels. It is a good idea however, if you are towing the vehicle, to keep an eye on the road, to have at least one hand on the steering wheel, and to stop trying to chat up every girl you drive past!

Finally making it to some kind of civilisation!

After Banos Dave and I took the long road North to the market town of Otavalo, famous for it's indigenous tribespeople and being home to a Saturday market that is said to be the biggest in the whole of South America.We arrived at our small sanctuary of a hotel called 'La Posada del Quinde', run by the delightful Californian, Maggie, and instantly felt relaxed. It was Friday night, and instead of going out on the town we enjoyed a sumptuous dinner in the hotel and both hit the sack at 9.30pm.

After the best nights sleep of my travels, it was time to experience Otavalo's famous market. Upon hitting the first stall, Dave had made multiple purchases, whilst I reeled at the fact that my backpacking lifestyle left no room for arts and crafts purchases. The market was incredible, diverse in its range of products, cheap by any standards, and bustling with people from all walks of life and all across the globe finding bargains. One of the highlights for me was the amazing food market, with dozens or whole roasted pigs being hacked away at, countless chickens lined up row after ro, and an astounding array of nuts, pulses, fruits, vegetables, herbs, spices etc. on display. 

Oink!

An example of some of the Arts and Crafts stalls on the outskirts of the market

Dave and I returned to Quito this morning and headed straight to the airport for him to catch his flight back to Miami. I was gutted to have to say goodbye but also incredibly lucky and thankful to have my brother from another mother come and join me for some of this adventure. Not long till we catch up again though, this time in Tuscany for our friend Nick's wedding. I'm already worried however, as I'm pretty sure I have had to try and unlearn every piece of Italian I learnt in order to learn Spanish. Not sure if trying to learn two different languages at once is a great idea!

For now I'm back in Hostel Revolution for the night, trying to figure out how best to get down to the beaches of Peru tomorrow. I'm thinking that I could do with working a bit on my tan again, this chilly mountain air has knocked me back a few shades lighter. Also, after several washes in hot hostel washing machines, both my jumpers are starting to look a little smaller than is socially acceptable. Shorts and T-shirts at the ready.