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So we were now heading to the Peruvian boarder for the next leg of our world adventure. Peru was a county that intrigued me at first because of the prospect of seeing the mystical site of Machu Piccu but as I looked more and more into the ancient cultures and other regions of the country I became fascinated by it. Sal and I had dedicated 1 month the Peru and would have spent even longer there if time allowed but 1 month would have to do.
To get to the surf town on Mancora we would first have to stop in Machala for a night before getting a second bus to Our final destination. Almost every bus we had taken so far had a toilet on board and if they didn't then they would stop every few hours so that you could go to the toilet. This bus however did not have a toilet and the bus driver was content to drive for hours and hours on end without stopping. I was fine to hold but Sal was not fairing so well. When we finally stopped Sal and a few other waddled their way to the toilets. After only a couple of minutes the driver decided he was ready to go whether everyone was on board or not! I ran up to him and said that Sal was not back yet. The driver waved me off and continued to drive with me shouting in his ear. Eventually a local guy came up to the front and spoke to the driver, what ever he said clearly got through and the driver stopped. Moments later I saw a distressed Sally and another guy running towards the bus. They both hopped on sweaty and confused but also slightly relieved that the bus had not completely vanished. Everyone on the bus found it hillarious and I couldnt help but to join in in the laughter but not before I had made sure Sal was okay first of course :-)
Every town we had been to so far had a bus station and if it did not then the bus driver would shout out the name of where ever you stopped. Our bus driver, faithful as ever, briefly stopped outside what appeared to be a random shop for a minute without saying a word. It was too late by the time that we realised that was supposed our stop we were about 30km up the road. The conductor on the bus explained that we could stay on until the next major town and get the bus to Mancora at 1am so long as we paid for the full journey now. It worked out very nicely for us because as far as we could find out this wasn't possible, we would be saving ourselves half a day of daytime travel.
When we arrived in a shabby little bus station the only other people there were some shifty looking back guys hanging out in the shadows of the entrance to the toilets. I have to admit that they made me a little uneasy, not because they were black but just the way they were acting. 5 minutes later half of them were brushing there teeth while the others were moisturising! It was funny to see these huge guys sharing out moisturiser.
When the bus arrived the guy asked us to pay our fair. We explained that we had already paid the full fair to the other lady who had been stood in the bus station. The guy refused to believe us. The big black guys were trying to help us out and explain that we had paid but he was having none of it so we just had to pay again. The fair wasn't much money but it's never nice to have to pay twice for something.
On the way to to Mancora we saw two goastly figures on the side of the road with not a building for miles. It turned out to be two Nuns! It was such a funny sight to see in the early hours of the morning.
When we arrived at the border crossing at 2am we had to wait in a long line to get stamped out of Ecuador and get immigration cards to enter Peru before going to the back of the same line to get Stamped into Peru. After a long wait with the driver of our bus constantly urging us to push past people in the que we were back on board and rolling towards Mancora. The big black guys and the two little nuns and Sal and I playing the part of the two Gringo's settled in for the rest of the trip.
We arrived in Mancora at 4am and were jumped upon buy a guy insisting that we let him take us to a great hostel. Normally in this situation we ignore the shouting and persuasion and find a place on our own but after little sleep and it still only being 4am we agree to at least take a look at the place. As we approached the gate of Guacamayo Hostel in our tuk tuk a huge friendly faced chap came out and showed us to room. It was actually a pretty nice place and we could see a lovely pool in the darkness. The guy agreed to let us stay for half price for the first night as it was onot a full night, I would have paid 15 nuevo soles (£3.50) for a mattress on the street at this point, so we crashed out for a good few hours.
We spent our first day in Mancora just strolling along the beach. The guy at our hostel had mentioned that they had recently had some huge waves. Walking along the beach you could see evidence of what the huge waves had done to some of the illegally build restaurants on the beach front. Pillars were crumbling and floors falling through and even a bandstand had been taped off because it had subsided. Luckily when we were there there were no huge destructive waves but on the other had it was a shame that there we actually no waves at all. This meant no surfing for me! Peru I'd famous for it's Pisco Sours cocktail so I though we would try one on the beach, it tasted awful! I have had a Pisco Sour before that was really nice so I knew that this was not how it was meant to taste. I think what had happened was that this place had run out of Pisco and just used sambuca and vodka mixed for all their drinks because Sal had a mojito that tasted exactly the same as my cocktail! Haha!
In the evening we cooked food in the lovely little outdoor kitchin at Guacamayo. If I had been in the uk I wouldn't have bought some of the veg we used because it was so wrinkled but actually the food still tasted great. It made me think about how crazy we are in the western world that things must be perfect. And apple must be round, a pepper must not be wrinkled. I wander how much we could reduce waste if we weren't so picky?!
For the rest of the night we listened to music and played cards. It was so nice and chilled.
The next morning we got chatting to Martin, the owner of the hostel, about his dogs, there were about 15 in all!
There was also a tiny little kitten that looked battered. One of his dogs was a big massive black Great Dane and the following morning when we were having breakfast he kept watching the little kitten like a Lion watching its prey. We sat there with a close eye on it.. and within seconds the poor little kitten was between the bogs teeth. The owner came running out at which point the dog dropped it and the kitten ran off. Martin came running out and gave the dog a big telling of as well as a few slaps. He then started to say how the kitten had only started coming in the last few days and was not his. All the other dogs were OK with it except the Great Dane who he said he needed to teach. So we then struck up a conversation of why he had so many dogs. Apparantly it all started with one dog that they rescued off the street. Nearly all of them had been dogs they had rescued because they had found them in bad conditions and wanted to make them better. One dog was actually owned by someone but the owner kept it tied outside and never fed it…so Martin went to feed it every day for 3 months until the dog got used to it.. then one day he just went along…put the dog in the back of his car and took it home. Then there were 2 other dogs which were little spaniels.. and they were given to him by a local man who was afraid he could not look after them properly. So Martin took them in but let the guy come over every day to see them. The guy then had to move away to Lima but Martin regularly phoned him to let him know how they were doing.
Another of his dogs was actually originally the Neighbours dog but it was forever tearing holes in the fence trying to get into the hostel garden. One day it got in and decided it wanted to live there. The neighbour said Martin could keep it. The dog doesn't makes holes in fences anymore!
We went on to talking about how Martin was a diver at a marine biology lab in his slimmer days and how they used to eat lobster every night because they were so abundant that you would pay £2 for each one that you baught off the fishermen down on the docks! We ended up talking for 3 hours without realising that the time had passed. Martin really was a lovely guy.
When we left the next day Martin gave us a huge bear hug each twice over. We were sad to be leaving Martin and his dogs more than we were sad to be leaving Mancora itself even though it wasn't a bad place.
Our next destination was Trjillio. We had heard that Peruvian buses were some of the worst in South America but we must have been lucky because our bus (one of the cheapest we could find) had English films playing, almost fully reclining chairs and a tasty meal thrown in to. I was already loving Peru and we had hardly scratched the surface.
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