Wed March 14 2018  —  e-mail Manfred

Long drive south, Huacachina, Pancaras, Nasca, and on in the fog.

Flag Peru

Friday, August 03 2012

8 years, 12 days

Huacachina, Peru

About Travel Photography,
Colors of the World.

Manfred is creator of, travel photography, a travel blog and a photography blog (a journey from 2004 to 2013). 'I set out to see the colors of the world, always I try to capture the colors'.

Seeing, is understanding, so I report and photograph, but formost enjoy and live those different conceptions of life (all that TV [and the web] cannot give). I reject jealousy, animosity, bigotry. Be free!

Manfred in the desert of the Western Sahara

The mind, when pondering at night and always asked those questions. What am I doing in corporate wonderland of bank, university, office or church? Who is the other animal asleep deep inside, the thinker, punk, creative, or Indian, vagabond and healer, maybe artist, writer, photographer, traveler, globetrotter? Oh God, dare you to think. When I saw the lies, gambles and manipulations I follow the old dream and set out for the journey of life lived, the journey to see the colors of the world.

During years on the road I have taken the turns as they came along, and realized one thing: Only such a small part of the planet can be explored and such a vast land and sea mass will always remain unknown, to me; many swamps, jungles, deserts and oceans will never be traveled. But then I am father of twin boys, Daniel and David, my most important, and I show them some of the wonders and colors out there.

ThisFabTrek, Photography and Journey, the Stories from the Road and Life around the World, stopped in August 2013 after more than 9 years, Love and Peace.

Last vehicle.

G20, Chevy Gladiator.

Chevrolet Gladiator G20, The boys in Cordillera Blanca, Peru.
The boys and Chevy van, Peru.

The G20, the vehicle that came to me for the Americas adventures.

6 wheeled Land Rover.

Land Rover Defender 6x6
Link to Foley

The vehicle of the Africa adventures, a Foley 6-Wheeled Land Rover Defender.

Before, the MB307.

Manfred and MB307
Journey, Middle East.

The vehicle of the Middle-East and North-Cape Journeys. See all vehicles.

Daniel and David with nanny Aisha, the best we ever had, black African Woman carrying white twin babies, in Bamako, Mali.

Current Vehicle 53,153km

Trekking 974km

Ferry 2,782km

Boats 2,334km

Train 7,015km

Land Rover 73,588km

Other cars 194,206km

Travel Blog

contains Festival/Fiesta/Art photography.

"There is nothing more powerful than an idea whose time has come." - Victor Hugo.

"What matters in life is not what happens to you but what you remember and how you remember it, to tell the tale." Living to Tell the Tale - Gabriel García Márquez.

"They never taught wandering in any school I attended. ... they never taught the art of writing a book, either. It's all so mysterious."
"Wandering is an art in itself. Wandering and writing don't mix"
"Writing demands commitment and if one thing your wanderer is allergic to is that very quality of commitment, for once one is committed he runs that very risk of failure ..." Wanderer - Sterling Hayden.

"Photography enables you to grasp a place first time round. ... Photography is a means of exploration, it's a vital part of travel, almost as essential as a car or a plane. " - Wim Wenders.

"The worst prejudice we acquire during our youth is the idea that life is serious. Children have the right instincts: they know that life is not serious, and treat it as a game..." , Egon Friedell.

"How far you gonna go. Before you lose your way back home" - Tryin' To Throw Your Arms Around The World, Achtung Baby, U2.

"If you want to be a hero well just follow me." - Working Class Hero, John Lennon.

"When I think of all the things I have done, I know that it's only just begun." - I love you, Lou Reed.

"One does not escape the Sahara - the Sahara let's you go or not" - Touareg.

"Planet earth is blue and there`s nothing I can do" - This is Ground Control to Major Tom, David Bowie.

"Glory for the crazy people/in this stupid world" - Ahmed Fouad Negm. > journey > south-america > peru > 20120803-huacachina

Appendix or not? Sick in Ica.

Map, Lima to Ica to Nasca and on south, Peruvian coast.

Download GPS (KML) track/waypoints.

29th of July we leave Lima and Barranco after Independence Day, leave the smog and fog, or haze and dust, or what ever it is; sad fact is Lima never sees the sun, at least not this winter time of the year. The mega-city hosts a different micro climate in every other part of what is more a middle sized county; north to south one hundred kilometers long at least. Around the coastal areas of Chorillos, Barranco and Miraflores the nightly drizzle hits with an astounding regularly, and the strangest phenomenon feels like oil slick when the moist settles on the skin.

We hit the Panamericana south into the unknown desert and the white fog; we are not prepared, I don't know what to expect, just want to get away from Lima. Already late in Cerro Azul, we walk the beach of pebbles, dead gulls, dead pelicans and dead jellyfish, not the most inviting place and Daniel complains already about his stomach.

Somehow then we miss the exit to the Lunahuaná wine country, where we wanted to go, get into Chincha at dusk and head on into the night. Of Pisco my Lima friend Toño has warned me dearly, don't stop, and we reach Paracas. The magic number pops up and Daniel can't walk, shivers, he carries an evil monkey in his stomach. At night I massage his belly, back, hands and arms, give him a paracetamol suppository when his fever goes high and he sleeps calmly; what has hit the poor baby here I wonder? Appendix?

Good morning Almighty; a doctor in the Paracas centro de salut suggest exactly this and sends us to a hospital in Ica, 60kms further south, he recommends the dubious private Virgin de Rossario clinic and the senile ultra sound doctor on a rusty machine confirms; he sees an abscess on the appendix that needs operating. His college who would perform the operation though disagrees and prescribes antibiotics against, and we had that before, salmonellae.

Time to keep a cool head, I am not satisfied with the findings, and after buying some sandwiches, I contact my Lima friend Toño, who has a sister, who is a doctor, and she recommends seeing Hospital Essalud and redo the tests. With Daniel still pretty weak and suffering, the very competent staff explain and doubt the appendix findings, and send us to Hospital de Solidaridad to do the testing.

Solidaridad on the first glance is a cheap set of warlike metal containers, each houses a different medical sections, and in a long line I have to wait to pay and get receipts that allow me to enter the containers.

We spend the rest of the day here, blood and urin samples are taken, in the end the ultrasound performed by young motivated professional doctors on modern machines. They categorically deny a problem exists with the appendix and at the late hour explain, he has eaten too many pizzas and burgers and fries, which is a bit the true story, and I should better change their diet to soup and mashed potatoes and rice.

And not really to much of a surprise Daniel feels much better all of a sudden, and I too.

We drive to Huacachina, 4 kms away, which is a small oasis, a lake set in the middle of high sand dunes scape. As the doctors have recommended I order soup and the boys don't like it, but still eat some, because I threaten that this would remain their main dish for the time to come.

In the morning, by Daniel's eating habits one can tell that he is almost completely restored, digs in a huge egg sandwich, and another one with jam, drinks a full cup of camomile tea. Then he sets out with his brother to climb the highest dune around and spends all day in the pool.

So what was that?

Climbs the nearby dune, on top sand flies, Huacachina, Peru.
David, Huacachina.
Dunes near Huacachina, this is not Sahara but Peru.
Desert dunes landscape, Huacachina.
Between dunes a dusty village, near Ica, Peru.
Village near Ica.
There are worse places in the workd to pee, than in Huacachina desert dunescape.
Nice setting.

In Huacachina, Peru.

With Daniel steering out of troubles, still, these are not the times to move fast, we stay put in the oasis of Huacachina and there is so much to do for the boys. Soon they take the sand boards up the dunes and try their luck surfing, and 3 days into our stay I cannot escape their demands to venture on a dune buggy trip.

Up a great Huacachina dune, on their own exploring, taking two sand boards with them. When they disappear behind the rim and stay there I go and check.
Boys go up alone.
Sand boarder David.
And I find them boarding.
Dune sand boarding, Huacachina, Peru.
Dune sand boarding.
View from sand buggy, down and up a slope, dune in Huacachina.
We go on sand buggy trip.
Huacachina group.
Our group and my boys.
Yes we all wanted to drive the dune buggy, Huacachina, Peru.
David drives the buggy.
Dune buggies Huacachina.
Dune buggies.
Sand boarding, Huacachina.
First try on sand.
And they are not doing bad at all, 5 years and on a sand board, Huacachina.
David as well.
Setting sun, Huacachina, dunes and sand buggies.
Dune buggies against sunset.
Daniel on sand board, dunes of Huacachina.
Daniel on board.
Huacachina from sand buggy, past sunset.
Past sunset.

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Pelicans in Paracas and one flies in.
One flies in.
Pelicans that seem to talk, wings spread, Paracas beach, Peru.
Can they talk?
Pelicans on beach Paracas, Peru.
Pelicans in Paracas.

In Paracas, very nice, spicy seafood and fish ceviche, sweat potatoe and corn. Peru.
Mixed Ceviche.
Green seaweed, beach in Paracas, Peru.
Beach of seaweed.
Paracas NP.
Boys against sun.
An arch stood till the 2007 earthquake, la cathedral, national reserve, Paracas, Peru.
La cathedral.
Colored desert, my boys, Paracas, cliffs of Playa Colorada, Peru.
My boys, Paracas.
The van and my boys run into late sun and the desert of Paracas, Peru.
Then they run off.

The morning comes when it drives us out, and back north to Paracas, where we wanted to go originally. Over ceviche I think what to do, as the waves are high and the boats stopped going for the moment to the island of San Gallán. But this is not the only attraction, the mainland of the Paracas National Reservation is rough desert and color beauty enough for an afternoon of exploring.

The boys.
Kicking the dust in Paracas NP.
Paracas NP. Peru.
The Chevy van in the desert.
Paracas NP.
Boys on cold beach.
Yumaque, Paracas, Peru.
Yumaque beach.
On Yumaque, Paracas, National Reserve, Peru.
Wetting feet.
Yumaque beach, the boys against a sun, Paracas, Peru.
On cliffs, Yumaque.
The boys on Yumaque desert cliffs, Paracas National Reserve, Peru.
Sunny day.
In Paracas NP, Peru, photo by Daniel.
David and I.
In Paracas, Peru. Photo taken by Daniel.
Me and my van.
Stones and rocks, a hamada desert, Paracas National Reserve, Peru.
The red desert.
Photo by David, Paracas, Peru.
Playa Colorada, Daniel, me.
Same point of Playa Colorada, Paracas, Peru.
Then they're back.

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Nasca Lines.

Desert mountain and sand, south from Ica, Peru.
South of Ica, desert.
Near Palpa, Peru.
Valley in the desert.
Red desert hamada, where the Nazca lines are. Peru.
Desert mountains near Nazca.
A mirador for viewing of the lines.
Down from the mirador.

The morning after comes and we leave again for the unknown south, and the mornings are hazy dull, the deserts around only slightly distinguishes themselves from the white skies overhead. Then it clears a bit, and also some lush valleys cut through the bleak, we approach the red stone fields of the world famous Nasca lines and geoglyphs, Wikipedia concludes 'Archeologists, historians and mathematicians have all struggled with determining the purpose of the lines' (wiki).

PS. Maybe we should have taken a plane to fly over the terrain, maybe one day we will, when the boys are older and appreciative.

Nazca lines.
Clearly lines.
Southern Peruvian desert road, where the famous Nazca lines are.
Road to Nazca.

The town of Nasca some more miles down the road over the red hamada doesn't feel safe and I only stop to buy some bananas, pick up more cash for the remaining long road, all while the boys sleep. Then we head on, always further south into the unknown and soon again the white fog of the afternoon engulfs. A turnoff right invites for a detour over the mountains, a climb to 1,000m where the clouds in drizzle almost touch the desert sands and pebbles. At the coast then we hit the rough coastal fishing, port and mining town, San Juan de Marcona, barracks only. 'There is no other way out' tells me the teenage lady at the toll-booth, so really surprised what I am doing here. At the edge of Marcona I find an old mechanic who busies himself on some rusty wagon of same age, he must have seen the cars coming and going over many years and seen the road building, and sure enough he knows the other, old, dysfunct road south.

San Juan de Marcona south a rough road.
Desert road south of Marcona.
Tanaka at night and a huge mountain near the Pacific ocean in the desert. Peruvian southern coast.
Approaching Tanaka.

'Turn right after the airfield, it is a straight line', and off into a little thrilling adventure to out-of-nowhere we go. This is over lonely desert country, a road not traveled anymore, the big pebbles grow out of the laterite, the sands blow over and create sandy patches and small dunes; ensablement, arenamiento. An accident here and certainly nobody would come to rescue us in days, in the middle of the stretch walking out would take a half day at least. But we get through and reach the Panamericana again before dusk, soon we hit the coast again, and when it is almost dark a huge mountain rises and the skies clear unexpectedly, the fishing village of Tanaca, dead safe. At night a million stars shine, morning is completely white and overcast again, and the boys and I die of hunger.

Off coast, Peru's south.
An islet full of bird's dung.
Peru's southern desert coast.
Peru's southern desert coast.
Peru's coastal dunes and the panamericana leads through it.
Dunes down to the ocean.

Yes, by now I know why Peru has 'lights always on' rules like Nordic countries; because at the coast the sun never shines, the white fog, a veil so impenetrable, is the culprit. So we clock another few hundred kilometers, have a sandwich in Chala, later after late lunch in Camaná which the boys and I dislike and eventually reject, we leave the coast that is all the same, foggy, cold; - all the same, and we deserve better... > journey > south-america > peru > 20120803-huacachina

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