The first thing that is immediately noticeable when catching the bus between Piura and Chiclayo was the fact the bus was pretty damn awesome. The girl at the ticket counter asked if I wanted the panoramic seat, so I figured why the hell not. I thought this was just a fancy name for the window seat, something which I had been constantly deprived of throughout Ecuador.
Even better, she showed me the seating plan of the bus on the computer display – I was seat numero uno. For only the second time I felt like the Bus God was smiling down on me. The first time was the bus trip into Peru from Loja, not only did I get a window seat – the first and last time I got one in Ecuador – but I also had a kid sitting next to me taking up no room at all. I actually got some sleep on an overnight bus for once!
Two other interesting things happened on the bus from Loja, and again on the bus to Chiclayo. It would appear security is a little more tight in southern Ecuador and Peru. You get frisked entering the bus, which would be fine if it wasn’t for the fact the women don’t get searched at all. They simply show their ticket and jump on board. Just a small oversight that women also can carry weapon on themselves!
Once everyone was aboard and ready to leave, a person comes around with a video camera, and one by one they video your face. It’s hard to know what to do when the camera is on you; smile, frown, pull a silly face? When in doubt, see what the locals are doing and do the same. On both occasions the camera fell onto me, and I swear I couldn’t help myself and I had to look directly into the lens and smile. Part of me wants to see how far you could take this, and maybe do a little wave or mouth ‘hola’. Or even better buy a small doll of an Incan warrior and make him do a dance for the camera. I have to believe the policia would have a sense of humour after having filmed an endless sea of graven faces staring blanking into the back of the chair in front of them.
Anyway, the Bus God threw some love my way and I had seat Number One with the panoramic view. The bus was a double decker, and the panoramic view is at the top front of the bus, with the giant glass windshield before you and three others. It’s also the only bus seats that appear to have seat belts, which speaks volumes. Without fail it was the the most comfy bus ride I had had in the past 3 months, and I look forward to more rides like this one. In fact I can only hope all the bus rides are like this as Peru is a rather large country and the bus rides are going to be loooooong.
Arriving in Chiclayo late in the afternoon, I headed to a hostal and dumped my pack. I hadn’t eaten all day and was starving. A few steps from the hostal later I stopped with my mouth agape. The next door restaurant window was the front of a glass box that contained a wood fire. Resting above the fire, dripping with juices, 3 racks of beef slowly cooked in the heat and smoke. The chef entered, wearing a gas mask and goggles to ward off the beef flavoured smoke, despite the giant exhaust over the fire. This is the way real men should cook meat, armed with an axe and a hacksaw to cut up the flesh. Just mesmerising to watch!
The next thing I knew I was in the restaurant, the only soul in there at this time, ordering a lomo parrillada – grilled steak over a fire. The portion was gigantic, impossibly tender, cooked to perfection with an amazing flavour of spices and a smoky aftertaste. I’m not even sure I could say I’ve had a better steak in Australia! It was expensive, though – a whopping 30 soles… which is works out to be around, uh, $10AUD. Trust me, that’s expensive by the standards here, but damnit if I won’t be going back before I leave Chiclayo (yes the thought did cross my mind to go there every night, but their beer is really expensive too).
The next day it was time to revel in some archeological passion and head out to the ruins of Sipan. The Lord of Sipan ruled over this region back in 300AD and built this large city. There’s nothing much to see at face value, lots of sun baked rocks and ongoing excuvation, however just being out in the sun with the blue sky overheard and the crunch of dry gravel under foot made the experience worthwhile. There is also a decent museum across the road, but the majority of the artefacts are now located at the museums in Lambayeque.
Getting to Sipan was my first forray into the world of microbuses. Peru seems to have spent most of their money and effort on luxury buses between major cities, while the short distance intercity buses were forgotten about. Enter the humble microbus, basically a people mover van like a Hilux, that shuttles people from town to town while the ‘conductor’ has his heading hanging out the window yelling out the destination to squeeze just-one-more person aboard. They’re not exactly comfortable when full, but they’re cheap and kinda cool.
Arriving back in Chiclayo I came across a restaurant around the corner from my hostal that quickly became by go to place for lunch and cold beers. The lunch so far has been the same everytime; chupe de pescado. Chupe is like a chowder, and in 30+ degree heat it’s a great meal. A rich creamy soup full of fish, maize, peas, potato (or something that tastes like it) and carrots. I tried chupe back in Piura, and it was deliciously too however it didn’t have any of the vegetables except the peas (I’m trying, but I’m really not a fan of peas).
The next visit of ancient Peruvian civilisation was the town of Lambayeque. Here was home to the two museums that are the pride of nothern Peru. The first to visit was the Bruning museum, once the crown jewel of museums only to be overshadowed by the newer Museum of the Royal Tombs of Sipan. Of the two I actually prefered the older Bruning, it had character to it and it felt like a museum – lots of amazing artefacts behind glass cabinets that you could photograph (and without the flash people. There’s always signs at old sites telling you not to use the camera flash as it damages the artefacts, particulary the paint. If you have to use a flash you shouldn’t be allowed to use a camera!!).
One thing I always find pleasing when visiting a museum is when there are kids there, and the Bruning had a gaggle of them running around. And I don’t mean on a school trip, but when their parents are taking them to see and learn about their history. It’s always good to see kids learning history and taking an interest, even through it’s gotta be hard *not* to take an interest in your history when you’re Peruvian!
The Museum of the Royal Tombs of Sipan is housed in a large pyramid, starting at the top you make your way down in the same order that the archeologists discovered the tombs. It’s a spectacular museum, filled with some absolutely incredible pieces of jewlery made from gold and torquise. This museum has a strickly no photo policy, so it’s shame I wasn’t able to photograph some of the pieces myself. It also has a strickly no light policy, which is fantastic to view the artefacts, just not so fantastic for the elderly that can’t see so well, and I found myself as a guide for a nice old lady that had lost her way.
The one last site I wanted to see was Tucume. As as far I could tell it wasn’t a town, just the name of the archeological site. I didn’t want to take a guided tour out there, as I couldn’t imagine anything worse than being with a group of people herded around the ruins and told when to leave, so after consulting the Lonely Planet the microbuses left near the park next to the main markets. No problem, the other two microbus stations were easy so this one should be no different.
I think I saw one microbus with a sign for Tucume drive off along the dusty road as I arrived, and after hanging around for an hour or so with no microbus bound for Tucume in sight, I decided to head across the road and check out the markets instead.
The market here is massive. Spread out over several blocks in every direction, with stalls spilling out into the streets, I entered into the maze that is Mercado Modelo. A bewildering array of every type of stall imaginable, selling everything from broken mobile phones (why???) and spark plugs, meats and entrails, fruit and veg, jeans and jewelry, and wonderfully smelling spices and insense. Fresh juice stalls sit next to the fruit section, and after sipping on a great lemonade for .50 soles (that’s about 15 cents for a pint mug), it was very apparent I represented the only gringo in the market. Not that this is a bad thing, receiving all the gazes from the fine young Peruvian ladies! And the blue eyes kinda helps too!
Leaving the markets and after ducking into some shade with a cool bottle of water, I spoke broken spanish with a local and asked whether he knew where the buses for Tucume left from. He pointed me back to the park, so I figured I’d give it one last shot.
Whether it was because it was a Sunday or the microbuses to Tucume just don’t run very often, I waited around and watched microbus after microbus go by, bound to all sorts of places that weren’t Tucume. Giving up again I headed back to centro and the hostal to think about my next course of action. Tucume was apparently closed on Mondays, like most public attractions, so I’d have to wait until Tuesday to try and catch me of these microbuses, or maybe even try hitch a ride with a tour. Hell, it even may be cheap to hire a taxi for the trip there and back.
Switching on the fan and ramping it up to 2, the breeze flowed through the small hostal room and I collapsed on the bed. Taking my shoes off I checked to make sure there wasn’t anything else in them other than my feet… after spending that morning having breakfast and then walking through the central park, I felt something not quite right in my shoe. Something prickly and definately foreign. Sitting down on a park bench I took my shoe off, only to discover a huge cockroach had made its home in my shoe and I had been walking around with it in there for the past few hours. It fell to the ground, and slightly squashed it started crawling away. Needless to say I’m checking my shoes now before putting them on!
Satisfied there weren’t any other stowaways in my shoes and pondering whether to stay another day here in Chiclayo or leave tomorrow night, I switched on the TV and the film Desperado came on in spanish.
Huh, tomorrow was another whole tomorrow away; I think I’ll just watch Antonio Banderos shoot shit up in spanish. I’ve got time.