Peru is the 17th country I have visisted this trip and the border crossing was the most complicated mission yet. It resulted in my respect for taxi drivers plummeting to an all time low, when they were already my most despised profession, not including London cabbies of course. On hindsight Ecuador bored me, it had an edge, offered no inspiration and the people did not posses any joie de vivre. The villages are tatty and the quality of the building abismal with a spirit level never coming into the equation. I therefore left a day early and after 4 days on buses, the whole length of the country, I deserved 4 days in my favourite place, on the beach in the sun.
Monday was spent on the bus from Riobamba to Cuena. There was amazing mountain scenery on the despite tatty indigenous villages with rubbish everywhere. I was sad that I couldn´t ride the train down the "Devil´s Nose" as the next departure wasn´t until Wednesday. I arrived in architecturally pleasing Cuenca with sufficient time for an amble around town and a trim from a rather camp Columbian. It was back to a dorm accommodation at El Cafecito - the first in three weeks - and I hadn´t realised that I had had the luxury of my own space for so long. The hostel was described as "Party Pad" by the Lying Planet but it just played really loud music until midnight followed by staff speaking equally loudly for another half an hour. Maybe the atmosphere would have heated up if people had screamed when fat rat came out of the kitchen to say "hola".
Needless to say I felt far from rested and left at 7am to catch the bus to Peru - which nearly turned into Mission Impossible. The bus to Huaquillas went at an alarming rate around the beautiful arid mountains and later lush villages. An old dear lost her breakfast which wasn´t surprising given the speed to bend ratio. I kept counting the white roadside crosses and thinking that it was going to be us next. I was dropped at immigration to get my departure stamp and caught a taxi to the border bridge about 2kms in town. I was constantly hassled by taxi drivers and currency exchangers until I told them all where to go, politely of course, and stood still until they departed. I then asked a Policeman the next steps and negotiated a taxi to Tumbes in front of him just in case something happened to me. Well something did happen which I wasn´t expecting. We were stopped at a roadside checkpoint after gaining my Peruvian stamp only to discover Mr Taxi didn´t have his papers in order and his car was going to the pound. Mr Policeman put me on a bus to nowhere as the Ecuadorians didn´t know the area and the airport was miles from Tumbes. I then flagged down a colectivo and headed into town with the locals. It was then catch another colectivo to Máncora, where the driver put the two youngest birds in the front with him. He was quite funny though signing along to his CDs most of the way. Four days of mountainous buses had lef the traveller rather weary and I was in bed by 21:00. Shame on me!
Máncora I soon discovered was a tatty seaside town which had never heard of town planning and more dust than the Atacama desert. It did have glorious sunshine and loads of Pelicanos and Frigates soaring above. I had changed rooms during the day but finding a reasonable, non smelly, room was a bit like crossing the border - hard work. I found a clean room only to be woken by my neighbour´s TV at midnight and at 04:00am.
The beach days rolled into one but on Thursday at breakfast I spotted the pyjama sporting dullards from the jungle wearing hats to rival what Hyacinth Bucket would wear to the beach. I ducked several times for the rest of my time in Máncora and despite having not spoken English since I left the jungle I didn´t want to have to speak to them.
Friday evening until Sunday afternoon was dedicated to sitting on buses which culminated in 42 hours worth. The desert scenery was amazing but life looked harsh on the sun baked dunes. I arrived 5 hours late into Lima and was so glad that I hadn´t booked a flight to Cuzco as I would have certainly missed it and instead I booked straight onto a bus. I was too late to get another lower deck bed so instead sat next to Fredy a trainee priest and surrounded by the spewky lewky brigade. Upon arrival my first priority was to have a shower after 48 hours of not going near any water and then went to the internet to see how badly we got pounded by the Wallabies. There I was writing to my friend Anita on FB saying that I was in the Plaza de Armas in an internet place and before I knew it she was peering round to see if it was me. What a lovely reunion after having not seen her for four years. We went out for dinner, had a few beers and chatted away but I was soon exhausted and so retired happy at 20:30 and had the best nights kip for a long long time.
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