5-Star Honeymoon, Peru 6/2/05

June 2, 2005

In the Andes Mountains in western South America, the culture of Bolivia and Peru blended seamlessly together with indigenous women dressed colorfully in flamenco quilts and incongruous, Charlie-Chaplin-like bowler hats, poor people trying to sell useless finger puppets and knockoff postcards, or outright begging for money, and traditional music from wooden pipes being broadcasted or played on every corner, the two countries featured similar environments. Peru, however, with every town and city boasting a picturesque plaza at the town center, usually with a park and fountain in front of a Cathedral, bordered by the colonial facades of the surrounding shops and restaurants, took the cake for uniform uniqueness. Most towns served simply as stopovers for travelers taking to day trips to see that region’s origins of ancient civilizations.

From the city of Puno, we rode a boat on Lake Titicaca (say that fun word out loud), the highest navigable lake in the world, to several islands—not palm trees and beaches, though. Uros island is man-made, simply a bunch of reeds strung together. We stayed with a host family at Amantani, where 4,000 people get along without meat, running water, or toilet bowls. Taquile is home to 2,000 people, who all work as a collective, making clothing to sell for sustenance. Another city, Pisco, placed us on another boat; first we floated to Ballateras Island, where thousands of pelicans, seagulls, and vultures reside among sea lions on a protected island where people are prohibited, then a van took us to the shoreline, where a sandy desert somehow forms spectacular cliffs that fall into the Pacific Ocean.

Arequipa served as the base for a trip to the Colca Canyon, said to be the deepest canyon on the planet, but significantly less impressive than the Grand Canyon in America. The bread and butter of the tour, by far, were the condors riding the canyon’s wind currents of the morning. Wide, outstretched wings carried the muscular bodies and imposing claws of these majestic birds past several dozen cameras of tourists, all awed by the scene. These stunning birds made me wonder why not a single major professional team has picked up the moniker of “condors.” Back in the city, Arequipa boasts two requisite sites in the blocks surrounding the town square, which sits in front of three 6,000-meter (18,000 ft.) mountains. One is a colorful, earthquake-proof monastery that for several hundred years, coddled the Paris-Hilton-type daughters of rich Spanish families instead of training them to be nuns (the Pope eventually stepped in and set things right). The other must-see attraction is a museum centered on a 12-year-old girl found ten years ago. Juanita the Ice Princess was a mountaintop human sacrifice for the nature-worshipping Incas over five centuries ago, and she was only recently discovered when a volcano melted the ice in which she had been accidentally preserved. Juanita, with some skin and much hair intact, sits with her legs bent and arms crossed in an eerie yet fascinating display inside a transparent freezer.

Huacachina (say it slowly) features no town center, cathedral, or colonial buildings. Instead, a handful of restaurants and hotels rest serenely around a real-life oasis in the desert. I had never heard of this place, but a postcard on sale put the palm trees and lagoon on display amid soaring sand dunes, and we immediately set out to experience it.

While the unique setting encourages relaxing and not much else, one combination makes up for a lack of things to do. For three hours, you can barrel around the desert in a dune buggy that drops you at the top of these dunes so you can strap on a sand board and fly down the slopes. The sand boarding takes some getting used to, and does not approach the rush of its cousin, snowboarding, but the dune buggy experience still has our hearts racing. Our insane buggy driver, Alfredo, took pleasure in propelling the nine-person cage-on-wheels up, across, and down countless, steep hills of pure sand, sometimes while he was standing up facing the opposite way with only one hand on the wheel! Although the seat belts cut into you as your body gets forced in every direction, the thrill of a roller coaster ride in a compact vehicle only makes you pine for the next jolt. When the ride finished, I took advantage of a great opportunity and jumped into the lagoon; its dirty water turned away every other backpacker, but I read that the locals believe it has curative powers and often swim in it. So I did, figuring, hey, when in Huacachina, do what the um, Huacachinans do, right?

While planning this adventure, my one focus was Carnaval in Brazil and Michiyo’s priority was the Nazca lines in Peru. Once Carnaval became an impossibility, our minds turned to anticipation of the Lines, and they did not disappoint. In the last 100 years, designs have been discovered in the Nazca desert that form vast, intricate images. The purpose and background of these images, despite decades of research and observation, have not been defined. Experts have only been able to speculate on how or if the Nazca people made the Lines and what they were used for. The biggest factor of the Lines remains that they are visible solely from an elevated position, and 2,000 years ago, there were no planes! As we sat cramped in the noisy Cessna plane that cruised over the desert, the pilot explained that to our left and right was a spider, condor, astronaut, tree, monkey, hummingbird, fish, and other designs. We marveled at the genius of this ancient people, and understood how some experts could surmise that alien life was involved in their formation.

The Nazca Lines, wondrous as they were, could only muster a back seat to the utter grandiosity of Maccu Pichu. “The Lost City of the Incas” sits at the peak of a mountain, and getting there by train and bus exhausts you enough to have tremendous respect for the Inca people, who utilized thousands of people to somehow not only transport the stones up to the top, but elaborately terrace the sides to maximize farming and living conditions. So treacherous is the path to Maccu Pichu that no one discovered this 500 year-old city until 1911. Several corners allow you a complete glance down the side to the rivers, which seem miles below; this view can give you a taste of vertigo.

As unbelievable as the structure is, the Incas reward you with a double dose of awe if you complete the hour-long hike up a neighboring peak that allows a glimpse downward at the city. Astoundingly, Maccu Pichu is designed in the shape of a condor. From above, the steep terraces and stone walls appear flat, making the condor’s head, beak, claws, and outstretched wings appear as a painting on the side of a hill.


For me, on that day, Maccu Pichu joined Iguacu (the waterfalls) as the two places that will stick out and make me proud we got to them. One is completely man-made, one is completely natural, and both are indescribably brilliant destinations that exceeded all expectations.

After two short days in Lima, which gave us a re-introduction to Western society, a taxi took us along the oceanside cliffs and inland to Lima airport for a midnight flight to St. Louis, where my Mom gave us big hugs and drove us home the next morning. Paved streets, wide highways, no horns, obeyed traffic signals, milk, pretzels, clean toilets, hot showers, and a stationary bed are all comforts I will appreciate for at least a week or two.

Thank you again for sharing this memorable honeymoon of ours. I wish I could say another big trip is in the works, and it may be, but not until 2006 at the earliest. Till then, summer weddings, Cardinal games, and DJ-ing will give us all the adventure we can handle while Michiyo and I get set up in St. Louis.

Safe journeys to you all,
Joe Fingerhut

P.S. A number of people have asked me about traveling, tips, and info on other countries. If anybody needs or wants advice, stories, or caution about going somewhere, feel free to give my contact information.