Paracas

Paracas is a small coastal town a few hours south of Lima. We chose this as our final destination for two main reasons: to see penguins and to relax before heading home. Both were successful.

Peru has a lot of coast, but there were surprisingly not that many “coastal towns” that provided beach opportunities in an easy distance from Lima. Then, when we read about the islands just off the coast here having penguins (Jessica’s favorite animal), we quickly chose this as our destination to spend the last few days of our month long adventure.

Over the years, we’ve gotten wiser and learned that the way we travel can really be exhausting, so to plan in some down time, especially toward the end. So, we treated ourselves with our nicest hotel yet with a large pool and a balcony overlooking the Pacific Ocean and the sunset.

Before we left, we had booked a two hour cruise to go to the Ballestas Islands, just off the coast, often nick-named the Poor Man’s Galapagos. With very little communication from the tour company, we waited in our lobby for they said they would pick us up. A few minutes after ten, a very friendly man walked in, and we followed him on foot a few blocks into town at the main dock. He told us we’d need to pay a small fee, so we handed money to a woman and our “chauffeur” disappeared. The woman told us it would be about twenty minutes, so we milled around a bit, glancing in shops, eager to see the penguins. 

I’ll skip ahead a bit… at 11:30, we finally boarded a boat and were off. We first drove by the National Park on the neighboring peninsula where we could see a large geoglyph. Very little is known about this large creation that is dug into the rock, but it is believed to be over two thousand years old. While called the “candelabra”, it is unclear what it is meant to be.

Then, we headed to the White Island where we got to see huge pelicans, cormorants trying to be penguins, seagulls, boobies (it’s okay to chuckle), and the adorable Humboldt penguins. There were only about a half a dozen of them, but they did not shy away from the camera and the boat, so, for the first time, we did get to see penguins in the wild. 

A few female sea lions lounged on rocks, but otherwise, birds occupied most of the tiny island. For years now, guano (bird poo) has been mined off of these islands and sold as natural fertilizer. It is still mined today, although there are regulations about what time of year so as not to disturb nests and hatchlings. 

For whatever reason, our boat did not actually go to the Ballestas Islands although that’s what our tour was for and weather was fine. (Read “Oh, Jimmy” to see about other times we felt a bit swindled here.) But, we got to see penguins and on the way back we made a stop at an old shipwreck that the male sea lions had taken over. They are huge and so very proud of themselves!

The rest of our time in Paracas was spent just as we had anticipated: relaxing by the pool. Our hotel is right on the beach, with a pool almost at sea level in between. I am so spoiled by our bright white sandy beaches in the gulf that these gray beaches covered in seaweed meant the pool was more tempting. The weather was perfect with highs in the 60s that we could sit comfortably in the sun during the day and bundle up as the sun set over the Pacific Ocean. We stayed out of the pool, partly due to the cold temperatures and partly due to the crowds in the pool. Although there was rarely more than a couple other people at the pool, the sea birds much preferred the pool water to the salt water just a few yards away.

Our biggest concerns during the day were swatting away obnoxious flies and waving to the vultures letting them know we were still alive. We even got to watch dolphins play in the shallows one morning from our balcony. It was a lovely way to end our days in Peru, and now begins the long journey home!

Oh, Jimmy

I thought long and hard about how I wanted to share yesterday’s adventures. Sure, I could slap on a happy attitude and make it all sound rosy, but let’s be honest, we all prefer reading the not-so-perfect, the honest tales, right? But don’t worry, this one has a happy ending.

We are spending the last few days of our month long journey at the seaside town of Paracas. We didn’t have much planned for our time here, but that’s exactly what we wanted to do. Huacachina, an “oasis town” is not too far from here and we had hoped to make a visit there one day. Most of our tours we booked ahead of time, most often through Trip Advisor. But, we couldn’t find any tours from Paracas to Huacachina; they were all from Lima. So, we decided to do that upon arrival.

This tiny little tourist hub is a few blocks worth of a boardwalk where the store fronts alternate between souvenir store and tour company. We had not seen Huacachina advertised on many signs, but when we mentioned it to one of the many people who stopped us on the street, he brought us into his office to tell us more. Jimmy was a charmer who learned our names immediately. He said he had a tour leaving at noon the next day that would include transportation there, a city tour with wine and pisco tasting, then dune buggy and sand boarding on the sand dunes. We saw photos of what we’d see. He said he had six people signed up and he showed us a photo of his minibus. Now, we’ve been spoiled with personal tours lately, but six others sounded like a perfect size. He said that the cost covered everything and that we wouldn’t pay for anything all day. We clarified that the tour was in English, and he said, “of course, I’ll take very good care of you.” Oh, Jimmy.

His credit card machine was broken, and we didn’t quite have enough soles, but also didn’t want to make another withdrawal. We scraped together enough of our American cash we had stored away and he accepted that. We thought it was a tad expensive, but shopping around and bargaining are not skills that we have yet become skilled at.

We arrived at his office at noon the next day, and he said it would be about fifteen more minutes, so we browsed the stalls for a few minutes and returned to his office where we sat and waited for a little while longer. Then, in a flurry of excitement, he said it was time to go. Where were the other six people? Where was the minibus he had shown us photos of? Oh, Jimmy. We darted across the road to a larger bus, Jimmy asked the name of the young man that got off the bus, and then said, “Misael will take good care of you.” Just to clarify, that means Jimmy was not going with us, nor did he even know this young man whom he said would take care of us not were we going in the minibus he had shown us photos of. Oh, Jimmy.

We were the last two people to board the packed bus, which meant we had to squeeze into seats apart from one another. And there were about 35 people, not 6.

The journey was meant to take an hour and a half. At about an hour in, the bus stopped on the side of the road and Misael said, “Yessica and Rebecca.” Sweet Misael could definitely speak more English than I could Spanish, but he was not the fluent English guide Jimmy had promised us. Even though no other names were called, two girls from Switzerland and a couple from France who seemed to have their own guide/translator got off the bus with us. It was here that we had a brief introduction to pisco production and a tasting. Our guide at the distillery spoke incredible English, but he spoke it so quickly with a beautiful accent, that I missed half of what he said. Pisco is the local alcohol. It is made of grapes and has a alcohol content of 42%. It was reminiscent of rubbing alcohol. But the creams, sort of like Bailey’s were much easier to swallow and quite tasty. But no, I’m not coming home with any. 

Misael said we could have some free time or eat lunch after the tasting. Normally, we would vote for free time. But free time just meant in the distillery and the gift shop. So, we opted for lunch. It was fine, nothing special, but fine. Then, our bus reappeared, without any of the other people on it. We were confused all afternoon. Where did the other people go? Were we to meet up later? And why weren’t we in the oasis town? It was our impression that the pisco tasting and city tour were in Huacachina. Oh, Jimmy.

The bus driver took us through the busy, hectic streets of Ica to a small park, the Witches’ Park. Here, Misael ran off and found an official looking woman with a vest on who gave us a tour of the small park, in Spanish. Thankfully, the French guide translated some for us, but I can’t really tell you what I got out of it except for there was a park with some statues to different witches. Did Misael translate at all? Was he with us the whole time? No. Then, the tour, about ten minutes long ended with, “And now you tip her.” What about the no other costs for the day? Oh, Jimmy.

By this point in our excursion, we were using a fair amount of other words alongside Jimmy’s name.

Finally, our bus took us to Huacachina! It is a teeny-tiny town with a permanent population of about 100 people that welcomes tourists with restaurants, hostels and gift shops. The town grew because of the natural lagoon there in the middle of large sand dunes. Legend has it that the waters and mud have restorative powers. We didn’t try, so I can’t report on the accuracy of this claim. 

Misael walked us to a small office and told us to return promptly at 4:50 for our dune buggy ride. That gave us about 30 minutes to wander the town. It was adorable, and I think we saw the whole thing twice in that time.

We made our way back to the office to find the Swiss and French duos, but no Misael. Spoiler alert: we never saw Misael again. Was that what was supposed to happen? Did something happen? No clue. Another group of people stood close by, but they had not been on our bus earlier (where were all of those people?). At about 5:10, I finally wandered into the small office to find a bathroom. It was at this time that a guide (not Misael) came to lead us to the dune buggies. Even though all the instructions he gave were in Spanish, Jess was able to ask him to wait until I returned.

We were moved quickly to a long line where we had to pay to enter the sand dunes (Oh, Jimmy). Our guide, this new guide, mind you, who spoke Spanish, and we’d never seen before, took off up the dunes (which is no easy task), and we followed him as best we could, sticking close to the amazing young Swiss women who spoke multiple languages fluently and we knew were also returning to Paracas.

We piled into a dune buggy and here was where the fun part, the happy ending starts to play out. We were all strapped in, about twelve of us, like a roller coaster with straps over both shoulders and around our waists. The driver took off. It was unlike any roller coaster I’ve ever been on because, it was on sand and the driver could turn any direction he chose, fly down steep hills or go sideways on a dune at high speeds. We were full of squeals, laughs and screams as he flew through the air. Then, we stopped to watch the sunset. It was a glorious view of the sun peaking over the tops of the dunes with no man made structure in sight. 

Then, we were offered the opportunity to snowboard, or sandboard, I should say. Not a skier in any sense of the word, I thought, “Sure, why not?” Then, our driver showed us the peak we’d go down. I do teach angles in my classroom and while it wasn’t a perfect right angle down, I’d say it was at least a steep 75 degree angle straight down. My answer quickly turned to no. Then, several others in our group started going down, on their stomachs, using their feet in the sand as breaks. Jess got up the nerve to go, and assured me it wasn’t too fast, so I went for it. It was very fun, and with my feet buried in the sand, I was never out of control. The only difficult part was climbing back up in the sand. It was that process that kept me from doing it a second time!

We strapped back in and the driver took off even more full force than before. There was no holding back. We climbed steep hills only to plummet straight down on the other side. What a thrill!

Afterward, we made our way back to the bus with the few other travelers we had come to know throughout the day. Still there was no one else on the bus (where did they go?) and no more Misael. We never asked the others what they paid for this excursion, knowing that hearing their number would probably only cause us pain. But, our bus driver returned us safely and soundly to Paracas, and we just hope we don’t run into Jimmy again over the next few days of our stay! Oh, Jimmy.

Cusco

Cusco is the jumping off point to see a lot of Peru’s most popular destinations. It was once the capital city of the Incas, the center of their empire. As such, this city is full of history, majesty and tourists. A local I spoke to said, “You can just feel the energy here.”

Cusco has a population of about half a million people, but the old town feels very small and accessible. It feels European with narrow cobblestone streets and open squares every few blocks. It didn’t take long for streets to feel familiar, and we could soon wander independently of our maps. Restaurants and tour companies abound as do gift shops all selling seemingly the exact same thing with the slightest of differences, which means that of course, as a shopper, you must check out each and every one. English was spoken just about everywhere, and the downtown parts of town seemed to be made up of equal parts locals and tourists. It was here that I got my first, and probably my only, “War Eagle” moment of the trip.

We were a bit overwhelmed by the crowds and the people hoping to make money off of tourists. Women constantly asked if you wanted a massage, tour guides pushed their tours, hostesses advertised for their restaurants and people carried souvenirs hoping to catch a interested tourist. Unfortunately, our skin color meant we stood out and were constantly approached. Everyone was kind, respectful and took “no, gracias” for an answer, but it was overwhelming, especially in the main square. So, one of our favorite past times of sitting in main squares and people watching was made a bit more difficult by all of the tourist-seekers.

We were in Cusco for a long time, but our time was broken up with trips to Machu Picchu, SkyLodge and Manu National Park. So, some of our time in Cusco was spent resting or repacking. We had also saved much of our shopping for Cusco as it was closer to the end of our trip. So, we spent a lot of time shopping, searching for the precisely right souvenirs, mostly with llamas and alpacas on each and every purchase. San Pedro Market was full of souvenirs, cheese, bread, flowers, chocolates, fruits, vegetables and everything in between. We loved our time in there!

As the center of the Inca empire, Cusco is full of ruins and ancient artifacts. We spent some time at Sacsayhuaman (if you say it correctly, it’s close to an English phrase about an attractive lady), a huge archeological site that overlooks the city. We should have paid the extra money for a guide, but we were happy with the views, impressed with the large scale of rocks and mortar-less walls, and of course loved the opportunity to get up close to the alpacas that were wandering about.

One morning we took a chocolate class from one of the local chocolate stores. I’d love to tell you that I can now truly explain the process of making chocolate or that I could now take raw beans and turn them into something delicious, but what I learned was more how complicated the art of making chocolate is. The biggest takeaway I had from the tasty class was that mosquitos do in fact serve a purpose. It is mosquitos, who deep in the dense forest, fertilize the cacao trees. Who knew?

Feeling safe and comfortable in the small city, we often just wandered with no real agenda or destination. One day, this led us to a perfect spot to spend the afternoon: a Cat Cafe. Both cat lovers who are missing our furry friends, we loved having lunch while watching them move about. The calico zoomed around the room climbing curtains and leaping on tables. The small kittens slept quietly in a hidden box. The old gray one preferred to watch from up above so that no one could disturb him. And the little Lizzie look alike was loving and sleepy, so I was thrilled to get some snuggle time! (Just don’t tell Lizzie!)

We had incredible meals in Cusco, a place known for their food. One night, we treated ourselves to the fanciest Italian/Peruvian restaurant, Cicciolina. My beetroot ravioli stuffed with pesto and mushrooms topped with warm pecan salsa and balsamic tomatoes was mouth watering. Another night, we had delicious pizza and pastas at Incanto with a fellow Alabamian who had married a Peruvian. I did not know her before, but had been given her phone number before I left. It was a treat to get to meet with someone who had moved to Peru so we could learn more about the ins and outs and differences between home and Peru. Her husband owns a pizzeria, so I asked why there was so much Italian food in Peru, wondering if there was a large population of Italians that had influenced the food. He said, “No, it’s just good comfort food, you know?” I couldn’t agree more.

One evening, we signed up for a cooking class. We’ve had such great experiences with both cooking classes and food tours, and this one did not disappoint. Jesus used to be a chef at a huge hotel in Lima and has chosen a lifestyle with a bit slower of a pace and more control. He was knowledgeable and passionate about food. We started in the market purchasing potatoes, cheese, quinoa and fruits for our dinner. To start the class we made a pisco sour with passion fruit. Pisco sour is the national drink of Peru, and we’ve enjoyed several. It is made with pisco (alcohol from grapes), lime juice, simple syrup and egg whites. We replaced the lime juice with passion fruit and acted as real bartenders shaking up the ingredients to create the perfect blend. Next came a lesson on potatoes of Peru of which there are over 3,000 different types. We made a personal serving of potatoes gratin with a mixture of fresh and rehydrated dehydrated potatoes and local cheese. Ceviche is the national dish, and so we made three different versions of it, all with slightly different flares, and they were all delicious. (I’m very excited to try this at home, so let me know if you’re up for trying it!) The rest of the class was thankfully more of a cooking demonstration with tasting, which frankly suited me just fine. We had a quinoa dish and a dessert made up of all sorts of local fruits. We left full, happy and slightly more educated than when we arrived.

Cusco has many museums to offer, and while I love learning about history, I don’t relish big museums. But, we did take time to visit Cisco’s Cathedral in the main square. We had the place to ourselves and enjoyed looking at the ornately decorated gold-plated altars and learning about many local patron saints. Qorikancha was once an important temple for the Incas. It is where the priests and astronomers lived, studied and prayed. The entrance fee was small and equal to the pay that we gave to the private tour guide who walked us through and explained everything to us (well worth the $8 we paid him!). Parts of the old temple remain, but when the Spanish moved in, they destroyed part of the structure and added on to make their own monastery. In the 1950s, a major earthquake destroyed much of the new monastery but the old remained in tact. There were beautiful paintings, mostly illustrating stories from the Bible that would teach the locals about Christianity. I loved the paintings of Mary because they had combined the ideas of Pacha-mama (Mother Earth) with Mary, giving her a triangular shape as to connect with the mountains that illustrate Mother Earth.

Cusco was an easy city to visit, an easy place to get comfortable with, full of cultural and culinary experiences. Just make sure to practice your “no, gracias” before you wander through the main square!

Manu National Park

When we first talked about coming to South America, visiting rainforests was high on our list. When you think of Brazil, you think of the Amazon. I looked into many incredible expeditions there, but when we decided to save Brazil for another time, we still had a goal of seeing the intriguing creatures and greenery of the rainforest. I researched many options. Bolivia has many of its own rain forests, but getting to them came with added difficulty, so we ruled those out. Peru has so much to offer! There were options in the north and options a short plane ride from Cusco. The options in the north meant actually spending time on the Amazon River, the possibility of seeing pink dolphins and greater guarantee of seeing animals because of a rescue center. The south had unique opportunities and many that seemed a bit more authentic. We wanted to spend a few days in the rain forest, but not an entire week. We found some reasonably priced options (remember, we are teachers), but adding on flights increased the price and made timing even harder to perfect. Our dream adventure of a treehouse in Laos had spoiled us, and we had searched for treehouses in Peru only to find ones that were way out of our price range. Then, one day, I somehow typed in the right option in the search box and all the pieces fell into place.

As one can imagine, jungle experiences are not next door to big cities. One must travel a relatively long distance to be in the thick of things with exotic animals surrounding you. When I found Manu Treehouse Inn, all the uncomfortable feelings I had had about which rainforest experience went away, and my gut instinct told me this was the place for us. We would be driven from Cusco, and although it was a great distance, it could be done in a day, AND we’d have the opportunity to stay in another treehouse!

Jessica and I felt like royalty. (Remember, we’re teachers, so we didn’t spend a fortune!) We were picked up early in Cusco by our guide, our chef and a driver (or perhaps I should just go ahead and call him our chauffeur). Yep, three people who were there to take care of the two of us. We’re not accustomed to that, but we’re grateful for the opportunity to be spoiled. As it turns out, once again, I think that’s just how the cards played out about with who booked at the same time we did.

We stopped for breakfast in a small town, and our guide, Moses, helped us to find headlamps which were very helpful! Soon after, he asked if we liked beer or pisco or wine. We said of course, and he asked if we had ever drunk a Hit. Having no clue as to what he was talking about, he said we’d stop for some. In the next small village, we went into a small market and purchased a few of these drinks, for our dinner, we assumed. A few minutes later, at about 10 am, bee-bopping down the road, our three caretakers each popped open a bottle. Yep, even our driver.

Now, I must say that after having one of the drinks at dinner, it tasted like koolaid with only a slight amount of alcohol. Also, I would have trusted our driver on those roads even blindfolded more than I would have trusted myself. Plus, blindfolding me would have been the only way you could have gotten me to drive on them or perhaps it would have taken some liquid courage for me to get behind the wheel as well. We went from Cusco, at a height of near 10,000 feet above sea level to nearing sea level in a matter of hours. We did this on single-lane dirt roads that hugged the sides of mountains on one side and plunged deep into the valley below on the other. Despite the evidence I’ve provided you with, our driver was skilled and cautious and navigated the roads with precision. 

The landscape quickly changed as we descended from dry, desert-like areas to lush, green forests. We stopped periodically to walk along the road and look for animals. Our guide, Moses, who is in his mid-twenties has a greater knowledge of this area than I could ever hope to learn. He grew up not far from here and is passionate about the rainforest. Somehow, he could spot green birds (in the rainforest) at a distance of 100 yards. He rattled off Spanish, Latin and English names of plants and birds with confidence. Now, sure, he could have made up whatever he wanted and I would have believed him, but I believe he truly knew what he was talking about. He could mimic dozens of bird calls, monkey calls and even the caiman we were seeking. When wandering through the jungle, he could point out a variety of trees and tell us how the natives used these for home remedies. You would think Moses could part the seas or something. But then again, when you gave him a machete and set him loose in the jungle, he was a ten-year-old boy. His evil laugh gave way when he killed a cannibal ant and watched mass chaos ensue on the rest of the heard. He would tease us about seeing snakes, cut vines so he could swing on them like Tarzan and he used the machete whenever possible on any out of place stick.

He had said we would have a picnic on our first day. What do you picture? Sandwiches? Maybe some meats, cheeses and fruits? What about a hand-prepared meal on the side of the road by our personal chef? Soup, rice, chicken, vegetables, fresh fruit and even fresh passion fruit juice. Not sure what happened, but we are living our best life here, for sure.

We spotted wooly monkeys along our journey and stopped on the side of the road to watch them. Monkeys are always one of the most fascinating, entertaining creatures at the zoo. Is it because they are so much like ourselves? Their hands and facial expressions are so similar. They leapt from branch to branch with ease, gathering seeds and hung upside down by their tails. We waited long enough and even got to watch them cross the road, looking like agile cats with their tails high in the air.

We searched for a long time in a specific part of our journey for the famous red bird of Peru. We only got small glimpses of him, but he was in the middle of his dancing ritual, showing off for the ladies, so watching the competition was very entertaining.

The first night, due to the long journey, was in a simple lodge not too far from the river. We slept in beds with mosquito netting, but never had any issues and had a nice simple bathroom to ourselves. Of course our personal chef prepared an incredible dinner and breakfast.

The next morning, we made our way to our boat ride and for the first time on our month long journey, we saw rain. We were in fact entering the rain forest, so I guess it makes sense, but still, it was an odd sensation. Thankfully, our first boat downstream on the expansive river was covered and relatively comfortable. On the boat our guide, our chef, a boat captain and a “stickman” were all there to guide us on our journey. Our second one, a smaller one as we were on a smaller river, was not covered, but the rain had let up. Here we only had one, new captain, and our guide and personal chef. We are not on the Amazon River here. It is in the north of Peru, but as with any major river, most water across the continent flows to or from the Amazon. So, it is fair to say that we are on one of the tributaries of the Amazon and can consider our location to be part of the Amazon Rainforest.

After about two hours of boating, far from where cars can travel, far from any civilization or even any other lodges, we arrived at the treehouse lodge. The dining hall or main lodge are right on the river, which was perfect because although we only arrived with a small backpack, our chef brought boxes and bags worth of food and serving utensils. It was more like how we’ve traveled in the minivan the past two summers. Our treehouse, one of three, is set off just into the forest up a steep set of stairs. It’s adorable. Two trees hold the house up and inside are two twin beds with mosquito netting, a toilet, sink and a hot shower (temperamental, but it does provide hot water). It’s not fully separated from the forest around (as Jess can attest to seeing as a mouse tried to share her pillow), but it protects us from most bugs and provides glorious shelter.

We spent a lot of our time wandering in the jungle. There were trails leading out from the treehouses, never wandering too terribly far, but rather in large circles. And oh, how thankful I was that Moses was assured of where he was going because deep in the forest, my good sense of direction was useless. Who knows, we could have walked in small circles the whole time. While the weather was very similar to home (I must admit that part of me was thankful to feel humidity and heat again), but deep in the forest the weather was fairly pleasant. Bugs were certainly present, but when we remembered to put on bug spray, they were not much of a problem.

The trees and the thick canopy were incredible. After being around dry climates for the past month, the lush greenery was such a joy to be a part of. Unfortunately, we did not see a ton of animals as all who venture here dream of doing, but we were reminded that it was not a zoo, so seeing any in their natural environment was a treat! We learned to take Moses’ excitement with some hesitation as his excitement level was the same for frogs and squirrels as it was for monkeys. By the river, we spotted a couple of otters. There were lots of frogs of varying sizes and all sorts of insects. The ants and termites were both fascinating and terrifying. Colorful butterflies and moths with a wingspan of about nine inches were never far from us. 

This guy would probably cover FDR’s head on the dime, but not the entire dime.

This is an ant colony or ant “hill”.

We saw lots of brightly colored birds and even learned one of their unique calls. There were toucans, parrots, macaws, kingfishers, hawks, swallows, herons, egrets, vultures and dozens more that I didn’t recognize. 

We only caught glimpses of small monkeys carefully climbing through the treetops, but we were often overwhelmed with their loud cries that sounded like they belonged on a much larger creature. On our night hike we spotted large spiders and a scorpion. Our ears were filled with the sounds of frogs and even oversized jungle rats (ROUSes anyone?). Thankfully, we only ever HEARD these. The small pond close by provided us with a small glimpse of a caiman, or at least our flashlights spotted his shiny eye that he winked at us. 

I spotted dozens of sloths! Well, actually, I spotted dozens of clumps of moss and dead leaves that very closely resembled sloths. And you know how in jungle movies there is usually a scene where someone thinks they are grabbing a vine, but it’s actually a snake? Well, we saw tons of vines that easily could have been snakes. I sort of wanted to see a boa or anaconda (from a safe distance), but part of me was glad our paths never crossed.

Both mornings, we woke up early to go to the clay licks. There is a cliff side along the river where, as the sun rises, parrots and macaws get minerals and nutrients from the muddy cliff. Although we were at least fifty yards across the river from them, and couldn’t see details, their bright colors and loud cries were a joy to see and experience.

In the evenings, I asked Grimaldo, our chef, if I could watch him work. He was thrilled. I loved watching him work at lightening speed to prepare half a dozen dishes just for Moses, Jessica and I. We enjoyed trying to speak each other’s language or making small connections and understandings over the names of food. He cooked over two small eyes with gas we had brought with us, and spent a lot of time looking for items he needed in one of the many bags or boxes. Our first night there, another couple was staying at the treehouse as well. But they also had their own personal chef. The kitchen was also where all who worked there gathered in the evening, sometimes sneaking small treats, but also watching in fascination at the speedy knife skills. They helped to clean up and sometimes chipped in. I even got to snap some beans, scramble some eggs and separate large peas from their pod and outer skins. Grimaldo not only prepared an overwhelming amount of food three times a day, but he was also an artist. At every meal, he created a work of art (or two or three) from some fruit in no time at all. There were swans, turtles, humming birds, owls and he even, after hearing of Jess’s adventures, cackled when he made a small mouse.

On the first afternoon, Moses asked if we wanted to swim in the river. As you can imagine, we were a little hesitant. Plus, after the rains, the river was mud red. But, on the second afternoon, after being reassured, we decided we’d give it a try. He said the alligators and piranhas were only in still water, and as the current was fairly swift, we felt comfortable. He said there were only some catfish, not to worry. The water was fairly clear and shallow, so we decided to try. (Side note, the next day he pointed out a large dead fish on the side of the river that was very similar to a sting ray. He said, oh, yeah, these are in the water, too.)

When we gave the word, it was like the whole staff jumped up. Five of the six people who were working there (the two of us being the only guests) ran out with bathing suits on and grabbed a tube. We jumped in the boat to go up river a bit, and at one shallow point, all the boys jumped out and practically carried us over, despite our assurances that we could walk. We stopped at a deep section of the river to swim and play for a while, and the water was truly refreshing, especially due to the heat, bug spray and sweat. The boys, for here I can call them nothing else, had so much fun and we seemed to take on our usual role of teacher/chaperone. They had contests for who could stand on their tube the longest, threw mud at each other and asked us to count as they challenged each other to stay under water for the longest amount of time.

We were about ready to tube down when a person showed up. I realize a person showing up is not an odd occurrence, but I can’t reiterate how far away we were from people. We had traveled at least an hour by water without seeing a home or a lodge anywhere. So, a person wandering up, while not frightening was surprising to say the least. Then, Moses said, “Do you want to go to his house and try a drink?” I know this will be shocking, but Jess and I said no. Without a moment’s pause, all the boys took off running about a quarter mile away, leaving Jess and I in the river, alone for about a half hour. They did return, but there was sometime in between where we felt we had been abandoned in the jungle. I must say that while each and every one of our guides has been kind, knowledgeable and returned us all in one piece, there has been a difference than in what we expect to get in the States. But then again, as Americans, we are spoiled rotten and probably have become accustomed to expecting too much. So, perhaps what we’ve experienced has just been a good reminder of that.

Anyway, after our adventures, we sat in the tube and the current quickly carried us away. There were some small rapids that felt a bit more like a log ride and there was the shallow spot where even the tubes got stuck on the rocks, but it was a thrill. A truly pleasant way to travel, and such fun memories of our time in the jungle.

After having a fun afternoon with the boys, I watched Grimaldo cook again. As always, what I watched him prepare was more than what Jess and I could ever hope to eat. I asked Moses if we could all eat together. There were some odd looks, as for whatever reason, this did not seem customary, but the eight of us did sit down to enjoy the meal together. Yes, eight. Jess and I were the only guests. The table was rather quiet, as there were not just two languages spoken here, but three. Many of the locals, those who live in small communities within the park speak the native tongue of Quechua. But the smiles, warm feelings and empty plates abounded. Should we have done this earlier on our trip? Had I not asked the right questions earlier? (We had asked Grimaldo to join us each time and our chauffeur when he was with us even though there were always just three place settings for Jess, Moses and myself.) I don’t know, but should you ever be in a similar situation, push for the inclusion and camaraderie. 

After dinner, Moses, Grimaldo, one of the Treehouse hosts, Jess and I opened a bottle of wine and we taught them a game that goes well beyond language barriers. Spoons takes so little thought and even so little explanation, that we were all quickly laughing. It took a minute for them to get the high pace of the game, but once they did, they didn’t hold back. Somehow, Grimaldo always ended up with a handful of cards, and Moses often had four of a kind, but rarely a spoon. But we could all enjoy the hilarity of the simple game.

After watching the parrots feed on the clay licks the next morning, we boarded our small boat down river to meet up with the larger boat that would take us up the next river. The stickman was vital as we traveled up shallow waters. Then, we were back in the van for much of the day on the curvy, bumpy, one way roads.

I’m not sure what to do now without a crowd of people taking care of me and preparing my meals for me. I guess I’ll have to try my hand at a lottery ticket when I get home. For now, though, I’m full of happy memories of our time in the Treehouse in Manu!