Mancora
PERU
Start of the Solo Trip
By LYNDI
Tuesday, February 10, 2008
After spending a week in Cuzco (well timed to get in the Superbowl and a 28th birthday), I hit the road again to go up to see all the highlights of northern Peru that we had missed as we bee-lined down 3 months earlier to meet my brother and sister in Cuzco. Tucan Travel had warned me that there probably wouldn’t be any work during Peru’s slowest travel month – February – which gave me about 2 1/2 weeks to do the northern circuit. Plus – Aaron was heading out to Rio for Carnaval with his job, and sitting at home all day with nothing to do but watch Dr. Phil didn’t sound so great. So I was off!
… on a 40 hour busride. Yes, 40 hours. For some reason, it takes 20 hours just to get to Lima from Cuzco (it’s a 1 hour flight, btw) because of all the mountains, etc. So after a full day on the bus, I changed buses in Lima and spent another 19 hours to get to the beautiful north coast of Peru. It was also nice to be able to catch up on the horrible, unwatchable movies that they play on Peruvian buses. I got to see Amanda Bynes star in a great movie about playing soccer (which, for some reason, the Peruvians on the bus loved. The lady sitting next to me was almost crying she was laughing so hard), a Jennifer Lopez movie (enough said), and – thank the good Lord – a Dirty Harry movie.
I got into Mancora around 9:30am two days after I’d left Cuzco – ready for a shower and a nap. A friend in Cuzco had recommended Loki Del Mar, and for 25 soles per night, it seemed like a good deal. I got a bed in a 6 bed dorm to find 1 girl who was so sick she could barely walk, and another guy stumble out of the bathroom after his breakfast came back up. The sick girl warned me I’d entered the Sick Room – 2 others were still recovering as well. At least it gave me something to look forward to.
After a much needed shower, I took a short nap and then headed out for a walk on the beach. Mancora’s beach really is beautiful – no Caribbean paradise, but right up there. It’s well known for the year round great surfing, so there were tons of surfers in the water as well. I ran into 3 University of Oregon grads that Aaron and I had met while watching the SuperBowl in Cuzco who were all staying at Loki as well, so we headed back to the hostel to get a bite to eat. I had dinner that night on the beach at one of the many copy-cat restaurants. A good ceviche comes in at about $3, so I indulged on one of those. And came to realize for the first time of many, that people think solo travelers are lonely. I had no fewer than 3 people working at the restaurant sit down at my table and talk. Chatting was nice, practicing Spanish was nice, but I really just wanted to enjoy the ocean view during a quiet dinner. Oh well.
The vast majority of my days were spent lying around the pool. I didn’t want to lie on the beach because theft can be a problem, but on the second day I headed into the waters – only to be whipped around so much by the strong waves that I decided to leave. Playing in the waves in a bikini is more difficult than a lot of people may think. Every single time a wave hits you, you have to check all bathing suit components to ensure they’re where they’re supposed to be before raising completely out of the water – only to find another wave is barreling on top of you. I decided this was all together too much work and headed back to the pool.
The first night the Oregonians and I had a good night at the Loki bar. We just started with a few ice-cold beers (I don’t remember the last time my beer actually had frost on it), and then the bar staff announced a special on frozen drinks, and then those clever Oregonians brought out their own bottle of vodka, and, well… the rest is history. Needless to say, the thumping bar music did not keep me up that night – but then again, I think we shut the bar down.
The last day was Friday the 13th, so Loki was having a “Bloody Valentine’s Day” party. Not really sure what that means, but when the party started at 8, they brought out face paints and told us to go to town. I learned this night that I shouldn’t paint on international people. A Swedish girl I’d been hanging out with asked me to paint the Swedish flag. Ummm? With a bit of guidance we got there, but I couldn’t have pulled a yellow cross on a light blue background out of anywhere on my own. Then I told an English guy I would paint “I Love Mom” on his arm, which he thought was a great idea. After painting the “I” and the heart I started on “Mom”. Halfway through my “o” he panicked – realizing that I was writing “Mom” instead of “Mum”. He said his “mum” would be disappointed if I painted another lady’s name on his arm. However, disaster averted. I got an “I Love Dad” tattoo (after clarifying that we Americans do, indeed, use the same word for dad), and naturally we had a bunch of drink specials to take care of.
It ended up being a pretty good party. There was a live band from Cuzco that I’ve actually seen a few times, and come 2am or so there was a lot of dancing on bars going on. I thought I was too old for all that … but apparently not. Didn’t stay out too late that night, and thanks to some trusty earplugs got a good night’s sleep in spite of the late night festivities. So along with a good time in Mancora, I also got some good ceviche, made some good friends, and got a great sunburn (hey – having strangers put sunscreen on your back is not foolproof). But, with only about 2 more weeks to see the rest of northern Peru, I headed out on a bus on Saturday morning to start my tour of Peruvian ruins.
