When we arrived in Lima after a long bus ride, it was just to get Cris a Colombian visa - as usual the bus was late so we didn't get to see the consul, because "we are working according to some rules" as the guard said before shutting the little window in the front door in our face. The next day we came back to be served after hours of waiting, to be told "the consul is still not here, he will be back next Wednesday, though". So we had a week time to go South, and Mart felt his watch getting heavier, his heart longing for a nice Colombia around his nice Cris... but we tried to have a nice time, still, and went to Pisco. It was hard to adjust to regional customs ("don't pee into the toilet"), but we tried.
Arriving in Pisco, we saw funny cars on and off the track.
Pisco, the town of the national spirit of the same name, was destroyed by an earthquake 6 years ago, so we tried not to judge it.
Instead, we realized our situation (little time and less money) and went to the poor man's Galapagos - also called Islas Ballestas or the Guano Islands. Guano is another word for "white rain falling off birds" (excrementos). A new experience after christmas on the sun island, really.
Cris first played with the pelicans, before we got on the boat. Well, they were trained, that's why they didn't run from her or play dead (remember the smarter animals? the llamas?) until their masters stopped liking Cris and called them away.
Mart was delighted to also see his poor man's Nazca lines, a candelabra of which nobody seems to know anything. But we are used to nobody telling the truth to us gringo tourists, so we think they just don't wanna tell... life is a beach.
Depressed article? Come on, you should visit shit islands, hungry, sick, and on unsafe boats. Just joking. We're having fun writing.
Cris will tell about beautiful animals we saw, now. (Do it, come on. I know, I don't want to do it either.)
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