PeruHopping

Nohelya said "I don't believe in time," Friday morning as we walked to Parque Kennedy at 5 am, and I have to agree. The entirety of yesterday felt like at least 3 weeks packed into one day, and I woke up this morning feeling so incredibly sore pero tan contenta.

Friday was our day trip to Ica, the departamento of Peru right below Lima. All of the Fulbrighters came along except for Eliza, so we all finally got to meet in person! Britney brought her mom, Marla, and Isis also brought her family, so we had a pretty big group, which ended up being very fun. Even though we've all just met, we all fell into an easiness with each other very quickly, chatting about everything and nothing and laughing about all sorts of random things we had seen in Peru already. Our bus was chock full of tourists from all over the place: the US, Israel, Puerto Rico, the Dominican Republic, Germany, Australia, etc! Once everyone had been picked up and settled in (thank goodness for reclining seats), our guide Diego introduced our itinerary and we were on our way to our first stop, Paracas, about 3-3 1/2 hours away. We booked our trip through PeruHop, which I would definitely recommend, because we didn't have to worry about organizing anything, we just followed Diego blindly and hoped for the best! Our route to Paracas took us down the Carretera Panamericana, which connects Peru with Ecuador and Colombia to the north and Chile to the south. As the city fell away, we were treated to rural landscapes dotted with shrubs and trees, squares of croplands, small shanty houses, and white buildings which Diego told us were chicken farms. I fell asleep pretty quickly, as did most of the passengers, and in no time we had arrived at Paracas, a small coastal town filled with plenty of tourists.

After filing off the bus, relieving ourselves, and grabbing a quick coffee, all 50 of us in the group were ready to head towards the pier where we would board our boat to see the Islas Ballestas. The Islas Ballestas are Peru's mini version of the Galápagos Islands: while the coast of Peru is puro desert, the islands in the bay of Paracas are home to a host of wildlife, incluso sea lions, Guanay cormorants, and Humboldt penguins! The islands support such diverse wildlife due to the Humboldt current, which pulls colder water up from the ocean floor, allowing more nutrients and colder temperatures to rise to the surface. This year, because of global warming, the waters are getting warmer and warmer, causing a decline in the amount of species present on the islands. We ended up seeing one penguin today, hidden among the rocks, and our guide told us it was the first penguin she had seen in 20 days--an unusual occurrence this time of year. The Ballestas Islands are protected as part of the Guano Islands, Islets, and Capes National Reserve System rather than the Paracas National Reserve, and I'll explain why in just a bit.

Our group of 10 boarded the boat last, so we crowded into the back and donned the hideous red life jackets provided for us (not everyone in our group can swim!). The back was lovely, actually, as I got to enjoy unimpeded views off the side of the boat, and could see the wake behind us as well. Our first stop on the islands tour was the Paracas Peninsula, where even from a distance you can clearly see a mysterious cactus-shaped glyph etched into the side of the cliff face. Our guide explained to us that while there is no exact explanation to date about the origins of the glyph, there are several possibilities that scientists and historians have offered as to its meaning. Known as the Candelabro de Paracas, the geoglyph is 180 meters long and about 2500 years old. Apparently, because of the way the dunes are angled, the wind/erosive forces don't impact the Candelabro. Archaeologists have found pottery near the site which likely belonged to the Paracas people, dating it back to around 200 BCE. Some believe that it is an ancient Nazca navigational symbol, while others believe a Don José de San Martín created it after he liberated Paracas from Spain in 1820 (although this theory doesn't match the symbol's archaeological dating). Our guide even offered up aliens as another possible explanation! Whatever the case, it was truly magnificent to see in person, and it reminded me of some of the other man-made wonders of the world that have lasted for so many centuries. What is it that compels us to mark our surroundings and leave a tangible, permanent trace behind? It's not enough to just visit, or to witness something spectacular in the natural world; we have to let others know we were there. The cactus, of course, probably served some navigational or cultural purpose. But seeing it there in front of me, I couldn't help but think of how I wanted to reach out and trace my name in the sand beside it. I could feel the warm grains under my pointer finger, inscribing smooth, sloping lines of cursive to spell out "chelsea" beneath the Candelabro. Maybe that's just the Leo in me? What symbol would you choose to leave in the sand for millennia? I think it's so incredible to see untouched remnants of history right before your eyes, and even better when their origins remain a mystery I would definitely recommend visiting Paracas if you ever find yourself in Lima. Even a boatload of tourists couldn't detract from how special it was to see the Candelabro in person.

On a less serious note, the cactus wasn't the only highlight of our boat tour; in fact it was only the beginning. We jetted onwards about another 20 minutes until the tiny rocks in the distance became hulking islands poking out of the turquoise water. The huge, craggy, multihued rocks were a sight to see on their own, but their inhabitants made them even more exciting. The rocks are covered in guano, giving them a peculiar, not totally unpleasant smell discernible even from the boat. For this reason, the islands are protected under the Guano Islands National Reserve System. They even have permits allowing limited guano mining on some of the islands. What the heck you would use guano for I have no idea, but maybe it's an environmentally-friendly resource or something. Actually, as we cruised around the different formations, we got quite close to the rocks, and the smell was never overwhelming, but it certainly was there. The guano lends the rocks their white, dusty covering--the tips and peaks are so covered in droppings it looks natural, like a permanent coating of snow. Further down, the rock turns reddish brown and yellow, and at the bottom, right where it meets the sea, dark green algae, black caracoles and barnacles of some sort crowd the surface until you can barely see the rock. Dark orange arañas del mar (crabs), and starfish can be seen sporadically climbing along the niches of rock. Small, redheaded birds and lighter-colored birds (the blue-footed boobies of Peru) hang out all around the crags, while Peruvian pelicans fly overhead, and cormorants dive sporadically into the water, searching for lunch. We drifted between beautiful rock formations until we rounded one to see two (!) sea lions snoozing on top of each other, basking on the rocks as if they were feather beds. Our guide cautioned us to quiet, and we hushed as a group until all you could hear were the waves slapping against the boat and the shutters of cameras. Then, all of the sudden, one sea lion lazily opened its eyes at us, found us lacking, and adjusted itself slightly on top of the other so it could fall back asleep. A chorus of "ayyyys" and "que lindos" emerged as one from us, unable to keep inside how cute we found this spectacle of nature. They were two females, we knew, because of how lightly colored they were and how small. We floated so close to them I could see the little wrinkled holes of their ears, and I felt I could have reached out and brushed my hand against their soft fur.

We continued to another islet, where we spotted a dark, fat male sea lion, also taking his afternoon nap. He was sleeping with his tongue just barely poking out of his mouth, and we could see his whiskers and the fork of his tail even from a distance, he was so large. As we passed, he awoke, and looked straight at us, posing. I could live as a sea lion, I've decided. What a simple life! Another island we passed was filled with sea lions along the pebbled beach, and we recognized the small, dark shapes wiggling alongside them as babies!! This was the cove where we also spotted the one lone penguin hiding out among the rocks above the mama sea lions. Can you spot him? It took me a while.

After the penguin sighting, we turned around to head back to the docks, which took about 20-30 minutes. Halfway through we slowed down to pass a green buoy with no less than four sea lions packed onto it: one sleeping on the ledge below the buoy's spire (I don't even know how it got up there...can sea lions climb poles??), and three fighting for space on the floating platform. One of the seals seemed to be in a playful mood, because he twisted around and upside down to look straight at us, and then splashed into the water only to leap back up on the buoy, pushing off his friend, and entertaining us all immensely. It was very cute. We continued on, and I sat back, enjoying the breeze against my face and admiring the way the sun seemed to light up the water from below somehow, turning it a beautiful greenish turquoise color. No one really talked as the boat picked up speed on the way back, but it was better that way; I got to ruminate on what I had just seen (and, truthfully, start crafting this post in my head). When we had finally docked and filed off, we all wandered over to a restaurant for lunch, situated on the third floor with a lovely alfresco view of Paracas. I had a delicious take on a ceviche dish and a very refreshing passionfruit juice, and I can confidently say it's the best meal I've had yet in Peru! It was such a wonderful start to our day, that I didn't think our next stop could top the morning's activities, even though I knew our itinerary. But that was before I saw Huancachina...

Come back for part 2 tomorrow!