Paracas
Before heading inland again from the generally unattractive Peruvian coast, Mark, Maya, and I stopped in the beach town of Paracas on 9/11. The commercial center didn’t do much for us – it was touristy, expensive, and unfriendly – but when we arrived at a free parking lot late afternoon, we liked what we saw. This camping spot was big and relatively level, quiet, pretty, and litter free. Maybe we could stay a few days? The sun was present in a blue sky when we walked Maya, and later gloriously set over the peninsula that is Paracas National Park. Not bad…
(As always, click on or hover over the images in the galleries to read their captions.)
We watched in awe as local men pulled boats out of the water on a rusty trailer, pulled by an old, extremely noisy pickup truck, pulled by a newer truck. We deducted that they keep using the crappy, ancient truck to deal with the salty water and the fancier one higher up the beach for its power.
Truck pulling truck pulling boat – a daily occurrence next to us, outside the sand storm days
Mark and I had parked our camper next to a big, stationary power boat on a trailer that didn’t seem to have moved in years. It had bent axels and flat tires. We figured our spot was wise; out of the way and somewhat blocked by the trailer.
Imagine our surprise when, around sunset, a group of guys in pickup trucks arrived, inflated the tires of the trailer with a compressor powered by a generator, removed some wooden blocks, and, after a few attempts, managed to pull this mastodont with a truck pulling a truck, all the way to the street and out of sight, taking down an electrical wire along the way. The scene was insane!
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