Huanchaco and Cajamarca
My last night with my Peruvian family was spent celebrating the birthday of the Señor.
We went to an Argentinean restaurant and ate a LOT of meat. The next night, Mama Peruana dropped me off at the bus station, in truly mama form, which was really sweet, if incredibly grade-school-ish. I took an overnight bus to Trujillo and instead of opting to stay in the city I headed out to Huanchaco, a little beach town about 20 minutes outside the city.
Although incredibly tempted to just lay down in my bed and catch up on the sleep I didn’t get on the bus, I got my arse up and out the door and took a walk down the beach. Ahhhhhh, the beach, my love, how I’ve missed you! During my entire stay, the waves gave me a sense of calm, as ever, which was really nice. Anyway, I walked down to the little boardwalk in the middle of the beach and sat down to enjoy some lovely coconut crackers…and got interrupted by some guy who was saying how beautiful the water was, no? and the only thing missing was the sun. Then he asked if he could accompany me, to which I responded in the negatory fashion, saying I wanted to be alone. Yup, as always. So he left. Not two minutes later, some other dude came up trying to sell me some toys to benefit children in Lima (now, it's possible that he was telling the truth, but it seems a little strange that he would be selling toys for children in a very particular neighborhood in Lima in a city very particularly not in Lima…) and then he started trying to strike up a conversation, asking me what country I’m from, etc. I asked why it was important what country I was from, then he started going off on me about how it’s important to have good communication with people from different countries. I agree with this—but why couldn’t he communicate with some men??? At this point, I was getting more on edge, and expecting every single guy who walked by me to stop and try to talk to me, so I decided to go have breakfast. Then I read for a while in the hammocks in the hotel, and reminded myself that although it's nice to just sit and read, I was there to visit my surroundings. I walked out the door, yet again, and caught a combi into town and walked to the Plaza de Armas. I didn’t stay there for very long because there really wasn’t much to see or do, so I caught the combi back to Huanchaco and ate a pancake with manjarblanco (the pancakes at the hostel I stayed at were delicious—I had one with lemon and sugar two days later that totally tasted like a fruit loop), then gave in and went to read and take a nap. I got woken up by my roommate, who turned out to be a (young and not particularly bad-looking) high school physics teacher from France. We sat in our dorm room talking for about four hours before we decided to go to eat dinner, after which we searched that little town high and low for some dessert (for yours truly, of course) and ended up eating coconut cookies and, my favorite, Chokos. I was a bit frightened that this guy was going to be like all of the other French men I’ve met and try to hit on me, but after we got back to our dorm we talked for another hour or two and the night ended perfectly clear of any romantic nuisances. The next day we, being the terrifically platonic pair that we were, went to the ruins of Chan Chan which are reportedly the largest adobe city in existence built by one of the cultures that was eventually conquered by the Incas. These adobe ruins cover about 28 square kilometers (oh yes, I have joined the rest of the world in the use of the metric system, which the U.S. should really adopt) and there are nine different compounds, each built during the reign of one of nine rulers. There’s one compound that has been restored and is open to the public for touring. It’s not that you can’t go and get lost in some of the other 28 kilometers of ruins, but it’s just not a good idea. You know, robbers and the like—this area isn’t exactly safe, a lesson I would learn later. So Frenchman and I went to Chan Chan and let the Lonely Planet be our guide. Here are a few pictures from our trip:
Can you tell which fish and birds are the originals?
After Chan Chan, we decided to go to the Huaca Arco Iris before my friend’s rugby game (apparently it’s the rugby world cup right now—it would have been really cool if that game involved the New Zealand team…). Our taxi driver ended up dropping us off about three blocks away from the temple, but we found our way to the temple nonetheless and went to visit what appeared to be crocodiles kissing under rainbows on the side of the temple. I think they’re really dragons, hence the local name “Huaca del Dragon” but they look more like crocodiles to me.
And that, my friends, is about all there is to see at Arco Iris. We walked around the outside of the temple wall. Then we walked around the inside of the temple wall and up the ramp to the top of the temple to see the “panorama” from the top (a view of the rest of the neighborhood in La Esperanza—a rather run down little town on the Panamerican highway). That was it. Apparently this is just a solid temple with nothing inside. 10 minutes after arriving, we headed out. As we were heading back to the road, we heard some yelling, and then a guy ran out about 10 feet in front of us shortly followed by his pursuer who fell flat on his face as soon as he came into sight. Then, as his target was now beyond his reach, the dude got up off the ground, and saw two tall gringos standing within reach. Hmm, isn't that convenient...So he walked over and started yelling at us and pointing at my friend and clearly trying to rob us with his friend now in tow. I knew what the right thing was to do—so I just started running down the Panamericana. I looked back to see if my friend was following me, but he was just trying to walk around. Crazy! This guy could have a knife, a gun, who knows what! Then the robbers looked at me again and I just kept on running down the road. Panic—I don’t think I’ve ever felt panic like this before but let me tell you, my heart was pounding. I was looking to the road for a taxi, and a black car drove up next to me. I waved it away and kept walking fast down the road (keep in mind that this is the Panamerican highway I’m walking down, so it’s not as if it’s not busy) but the car drove up again and someone was waving from the inside—my Frenchman. I jumped in and off we went down the road. Our colectivo taxi saviors. This near-mugging experience kind of put me off of the sight-seeing business, so I didn’t do any more sight-seeing in Huanchaco/Trujillo. I had originally been planning to do my sight-seeing by myself that day, so I’m extremely grateful that I had made a new friend and that we were doing our sight-seeing together. I had also been planning to go on a guided tour of all of the ruins in the area, but when I had gone to Trujillo the day before, the tour shops were closed, but I wasn’t going to let that hinder me. I’m trying to be adventurous, right? Well, I’m trying to be adventurous and get out of my comfort zone, but I’m certainly not trying to get myself into any kind of trouble or be unsafe on purpose. I’m trying to learn where my traveling boundaries are, and to learn what is “adventurous” within safety concerns. Let me also add that I’m always on the look-out to link up with other travelers since there is safety in numbers. My French friend left later that night, but the next day I woke up with a new roommate, a smartypants girl from Texas who works internationally as a consultant for all kinds of different organizations, NGOs, non-profits, etc. She was also planning to go to Cajamarca, so we spent most of our next two days in Huanchaco together, and left to Cajamarca together. We took yet another nightbus, a somewhat rollercoaster-like ride on a bumpy road up the mountain with plenty of switchbacks. It definitely made me appreciate having ridden in the back of our family van for so many years, that ever-swaying family-packing machine. Yay for not getting motion sickness! Cajamarca welcomed us at a lovely 4:30 am—my first time arriving in a city at a decidedly early hour without reservations. But we got ourselves a taxi and went to the plaza de armas where, however interestingly, we stopped right in front of the hotel we were planning on staying at—and the door was open! We bartered our way into paying a little more than $3 per person for a room until 2:00 pm later that day. Our room was completely sketchy (not to mention creaky and possibly haunted) and we didn’t really feel secure, so when we woke up we headed out to find another hotel and found one that was nicer and where we felt much safer, tucked away back on the fourth floor where it would be a bit difficult to find us, seeing as how the stairs were like a maze.
That being said, let me tell you that Cajamarca is a great place to visit. Thank you Dorita for recommending this city (I was originally planning to stay on the coast, don’t ya know). This city is full of history, more down to earth people, and FOOD! Cajamarca is basically where the Spaniards conquered the Incas. Right before the Spanish conquest, the Incan empire was in a civil war, with one Incan brother, Atahualpa, ruling the north half and Huascar ruling the southern half. Atahualpa had just won a victory over his brothers when he and his troops went to camp out at Los Baños del Inca, which is just a few km outside of Cajamarca. The Spaniards arrived in Cajamarca and awaited for the arrival of the Incans in the city. The Incan troops were approximately 40,000-80,000 and the Spaniards, numbering just 160, decided to try to overthrow the Incans. And due to their surprise attack and vastly more advanced weapons (swords, armor, and horses versus slings and hand axes) the Spaniards captured Atahualpa and killed/ran off the rest of the troops. (By the way, I visited the room that Atahualpa was captured in.)
Atahualpa, using his smarts, noticed the inclination the Spaniards had towards gold and silver, so he offered to pay them a roomful of gold and two roomfuls of silver in exchange for his freedom. But after receiving the ransom the Spaniards, in true conquistador fashion, decided to go ahead and kill Atahualpa. And so began the Spanish conquistadors in the Incan Empire.
Cajamarca obviously has a big Spanish influence, which is seen in much of the architecture here, but I think most of the people that are here are still “natives”. You see a lot of women in traditional dress, with mid-lenth pleated skirts, a typical shirt usually adorned with a colorful cloth wrapped diagonally over the top and quite often a big hat (the men wear the hats, too, but their clothing doesn’t quite have the same traditional flavor). It was a nice change from the American-brand knock-offs that overwhelm the capital.
But, really, my favorite topic in Cajamarca (and I must confess, the tipper for my decision to go there) was the food. That city is filled with manjarblanco, cheese, and all kinds of dairy products. A paradise for the lactose tolerant folk! Here were my scores the first night:
We went to an Argentinean restaurant and ate a LOT of meat. The next night, Mama Peruana dropped me off at the bus station, in truly mama form, which was really sweet, if incredibly grade-school-ish. I took an overnight bus to Trujillo and instead of opting to stay in the city I headed out to Huanchaco, a little beach town about 20 minutes outside the city.
(Here you have a "lovely" picture...turns out it's not much to look at, but hey, it's a beach! And it's outside of Lima, what more can one ask for?)
Although incredibly tempted to just lay down in my bed and catch up on the sleep I didn’t get on the bus, I got my arse up and out the door and took a walk down the beach. Ahhhhhh, the beach, my love, how I’ve missed you! During my entire stay, the waves gave me a sense of calm, as ever, which was really nice. Anyway, I walked down to the little boardwalk in the middle of the beach and sat down to enjoy some lovely coconut crackers…and got interrupted by some guy who was saying how beautiful the water was, no? and the only thing missing was the sun. Then he asked if he could accompany me, to which I responded in the negatory fashion, saying I wanted to be alone. Yup, as always. So he left. Not two minutes later, some other dude came up trying to sell me some toys to benefit children in Lima (now, it's possible that he was telling the truth, but it seems a little strange that he would be selling toys for children in a very particular neighborhood in Lima in a city very particularly not in Lima…) and then he started trying to strike up a conversation, asking me what country I’m from, etc. I asked why it was important what country I was from, then he started going off on me about how it’s important to have good communication with people from different countries. I agree with this—but why couldn’t he communicate with some men??? At this point, I was getting more on edge, and expecting every single guy who walked by me to stop and try to talk to me, so I decided to go have breakfast. Then I read for a while in the hammocks in the hotel, and reminded myself that although it's nice to just sit and read, I was there to visit my surroundings. I walked out the door, yet again, and caught a combi into town and walked to the Plaza de Armas. I didn’t stay there for very long because there really wasn’t much to see or do, so I caught the combi back to Huanchaco and ate a pancake with manjarblanco (the pancakes at the hostel I stayed at were delicious—I had one with lemon and sugar two days later that totally tasted like a fruit loop), then gave in and went to read and take a nap. I got woken up by my roommate, who turned out to be a (young and not particularly bad-looking) high school physics teacher from France. We sat in our dorm room talking for about four hours before we decided to go to eat dinner, after which we searched that little town high and low for some dessert (for yours truly, of course) and ended up eating coconut cookies and, my favorite, Chokos. I was a bit frightened that this guy was going to be like all of the other French men I’ve met and try to hit on me, but after we got back to our dorm we talked for another hour or two and the night ended perfectly clear of any romantic nuisances. The next day we, being the terrifically platonic pair that we were, went to the ruins of Chan Chan which are reportedly the largest adobe city in existence built by one of the cultures that was eventually conquered by the Incas. These adobe ruins cover about 28 square kilometers (oh yes, I have joined the rest of the world in the use of the metric system, which the U.S. should really adopt) and there are nine different compounds, each built during the reign of one of nine rulers. There’s one compound that has been restored and is open to the public for touring. It’s not that you can’t go and get lost in some of the other 28 kilometers of ruins, but it’s just not a good idea. You know, robbers and the like—this area isn’t exactly safe, a lesson I would learn later. So Frenchman and I went to Chan Chan and let the Lonely Planet be our guide. Here are a few pictures from our trip: Can you tell which fish and birds are the originals?
After Chan Chan, we decided to go to the Huaca Arco Iris before my friend’s rugby game (apparently it’s the rugby world cup right now—it would have been really cool if that game involved the New Zealand team…). Our taxi driver ended up dropping us off about three blocks away from the temple, but we found our way to the temple nonetheless and went to visit what appeared to be crocodiles kissing under rainbows on the side of the temple. I think they’re really dragons, hence the local name “Huaca del Dragon” but they look more like crocodiles to me.
And that, my friends, is about all there is to see at Arco Iris. We walked around the outside of the temple wall. Then we walked around the inside of the temple wall and up the ramp to the top of the temple to see the “panorama” from the top (a view of the rest of the neighborhood in La Esperanza—a rather run down little town on the Panamerican highway). That was it. Apparently this is just a solid temple with nothing inside. 10 minutes after arriving, we headed out. As we were heading back to the road, we heard some yelling, and then a guy ran out about 10 feet in front of us shortly followed by his pursuer who fell flat on his face as soon as he came into sight. Then, as his target was now beyond his reach, the dude got up off the ground, and saw two tall gringos standing within reach. Hmm, isn't that convenient...So he walked over and started yelling at us and pointing at my friend and clearly trying to rob us with his friend now in tow. I knew what the right thing was to do—so I just started running down the Panamericana. I looked back to see if my friend was following me, but he was just trying to walk around. Crazy! This guy could have a knife, a gun, who knows what! Then the robbers looked at me again and I just kept on running down the road. Panic—I don’t think I’ve ever felt panic like this before but let me tell you, my heart was pounding. I was looking to the road for a taxi, and a black car drove up next to me. I waved it away and kept walking fast down the road (keep in mind that this is the Panamerican highway I’m walking down, so it’s not as if it’s not busy) but the car drove up again and someone was waving from the inside—my Frenchman. I jumped in and off we went down the road. Our colectivo taxi saviors. This near-mugging experience kind of put me off of the sight-seeing business, so I didn’t do any more sight-seeing in Huanchaco/Trujillo. I had originally been planning to do my sight-seeing by myself that day, so I’m extremely grateful that I had made a new friend and that we were doing our sight-seeing together. I had also been planning to go on a guided tour of all of the ruins in the area, but when I had gone to Trujillo the day before, the tour shops were closed, but I wasn’t going to let that hinder me. I’m trying to be adventurous, right? Well, I’m trying to be adventurous and get out of my comfort zone, but I’m certainly not trying to get myself into any kind of trouble or be unsafe on purpose. I’m trying to learn where my traveling boundaries are, and to learn what is “adventurous” within safety concerns. Let me also add that I’m always on the look-out to link up with other travelers since there is safety in numbers. My French friend left later that night, but the next day I woke up with a new roommate, a smartypants girl from Texas who works internationally as a consultant for all kinds of different organizations, NGOs, non-profits, etc. She was also planning to go to Cajamarca, so we spent most of our next two days in Huanchaco together, and left to Cajamarca together. We took yet another nightbus, a somewhat rollercoaster-like ride on a bumpy road up the mountain with plenty of switchbacks. It definitely made me appreciate having ridden in the back of our family van for so many years, that ever-swaying family-packing machine. Yay for not getting motion sickness! Cajamarca welcomed us at a lovely 4:30 am—my first time arriving in a city at a decidedly early hour without reservations. But we got ourselves a taxi and went to the plaza de armas where, however interestingly, we stopped right in front of the hotel we were planning on staying at—and the door was open! We bartered our way into paying a little more than $3 per person for a room until 2:00 pm later that day. Our room was completely sketchy (not to mention creaky and possibly haunted) and we didn’t really feel secure, so when we woke up we headed out to find another hotel and found one that was nicer and where we felt much safer, tucked away back on the fourth floor where it would be a bit difficult to find us, seeing as how the stairs were like a maze.
That being said, let me tell you that Cajamarca is a great place to visit. Thank you Dorita for recommending this city (I was originally planning to stay on the coast, don’t ya know). This city is full of history, more down to earth people, and FOOD! Cajamarca is basically where the Spaniards conquered the Incas. Right before the Spanish conquest, the Incan empire was in a civil war, with one Incan brother, Atahualpa, ruling the north half and Huascar ruling the southern half. Atahualpa had just won a victory over his brothers when he and his troops went to camp out at Los Baños del Inca, which is just a few km outside of Cajamarca. The Spaniards arrived in Cajamarca and awaited for the arrival of the Incans in the city. The Incan troops were approximately 40,000-80,000 and the Spaniards, numbering just 160, decided to try to overthrow the Incans. And due to their surprise attack and vastly more advanced weapons (swords, armor, and horses versus slings and hand axes) the Spaniards captured Atahualpa and killed/ran off the rest of the troops. (By the way, I visited the room that Atahualpa was captured in.)
Atahualpa, using his smarts, noticed the inclination the Spaniards had towards gold and silver, so he offered to pay them a roomful of gold and two roomfuls of silver in exchange for his freedom. But after receiving the ransom the Spaniards, in true conquistador fashion, decided to go ahead and kill Atahualpa. And so began the Spanish conquistadors in the Incan Empire.
Cajamarca obviously has a big Spanish influence, which is seen in much of the architecture here, but I think most of the people that are here are still “natives”. You see a lot of women in traditional dress, with mid-lenth pleated skirts, a typical shirt usually adorned with a colorful cloth wrapped diagonally over the top and quite often a big hat (the men wear the hats, too, but their clothing doesn’t quite have the same traditional flavor). It was a nice change from the American-brand knock-offs that overwhelm the capital.
Our other tours of Cajamarca included a trip to Los Banos del Inca, where Atahualpa and his troops were camped out while the Spaniards sat in Cajamarca planning their attack.
And then we went into the "spa complex" and had ourselves a bath. It would have been a good idea to bring bubble bath. (Or towels for that matter...)
Say hello to "lima belly":
After that (and after being misdirected by a combi driver and taking a slight detour through the local market), we went to visit los Ventanillas del Otuzco which is basically a graveyard built into a cliffside--it looked pretty amazing, and I can't say I've ever seen a necropolis quite like this:
But, really, my favorite topic in Cajamarca (and I must confess, the tipper for my decision to go there) was the food. That city is filled with manjarblanco, cheese, and all kinds of dairy products. A paradise for the lactose tolerant folk! Here were my scores the first night:Soft, smelly cheese and buttery chunks of some cracker-like substance to eat it with, fresh bread from the ladies on the street corner, coconut manjarblanco (SO intensely delicious, I can hardly tell you) with coconut crackers and dark chocolate, so dark, it easily wins the prize of being the darkest chocolate I've ever had in my life. Bitter!!! But with the coco manjarblanco, oh so good. The next night I bought coconut-flavored drinkable yogurt, which actually had pieces of coconut in it. Absolutely amazing, and so fresh since Cajamarca is surrounded by cow farms. Almost every other store on the street was a queso/manjarblanco store, which did nothing but tempt me more every time I took a stroll in the calle. I also stopped by a few times at a wonderful little ice cream shop named Heladeria Holanda (a divination of things to come?) which had fantastic, locally made ice cream.
Oh yes, I would definitely recommend this town to anybody traveling to Peru. Good local sites, and wonderfully unhealthy foods to fill you for weeks! I think I have to go back there before I leave, to get my fill of the dairy delights. And next time I'm bringing someone that will engorge on the sweets with me! :) It's so fun to share...
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