Huanchaco; Eurotrash, beef hearts and an angry ocean.

Well, another retro-post, meaning that days have gone by and I'm writing about things that have happened hundreds of miles ago.

After driving back to Santiago, Chile from Valparaiso I flew back to Lima and then directly onto another flight to Trujillo and cab to Huanchaco. I only mention that to show that you can convert an incredibly long day into a mere 25 words. I really enjoyed Valparaiso but for some reason I couldn't get rid of the rental car fast enough. The flights back were easy enough, flying in South America reminds me of flying in the US in the 80s and 90s. Everything is low key, security doesn't treat you like a combatant and you get fed. Here are some pictures of the way back.

Huanchaco is definitely a surf zone, and works pretty well as one. I stayed in two places;

Hospidaje Oceano
Gets great reviews on Trip Advisor and I'd have to agree.  At an equivilant of USD $14, this is definitely on the budget end of things, but Carlos and his wife Esperansa were absolutely lovely folks. I was staying by the night since I wasn't sure exactly where I'd end up. It's at places like this you find the more interesting range of people, usually backpackers from Europe, wacky expats from the states, blah blah blah. Case in point; Hazel and Lola. These girls had just graduated college (nutrition and philosophy, Ireland and London respectively) and were out for six months or more bopping around South America. They looked and sounded impossibly young but were making money along the way teaching English with their TESL certifications. They were waiting for the night bus that was coming by after about 11:00 or so. Central America notwithstanding, I've seen a LOT of this. I really wish I had rebounded from the discouragement I got about seeing the world when I was younger. Yep, that's a shade of resentment you see there. Anyhow, after a nice long chat I bade them safe travels and goodnight. I probably would have stayed here longer, but for some reason my laptop wouldn't connect to the internet so I poked around and found another place.

Casa Chill
Casa Chill is full of groovy Euro 20 somethings all completely indifferent to anything but their Freunde, their surfboards und ihre Rave-Musik. Fine with me. It's kind of like home where my kid takes up massive existential space and I just kind of ghost through like some irrelevant, steampunk robot trying to stay out from underfoot.

At the time I wrote;
"So I'm hanging out, looking at the sea, writing a little here and noticing that there are all kinds of flags for all kinds of countries... but no American flag. Oh well. Maybe I'll send one down. Maybe they dont want to attact fat or loud people, but if I had my phone I'd record this loud mouthed older brit woman (oh hell, she's probably my age) who's been going on about some aquatic fauna that's put the hurt on her foot. A crab or a stingray according to here, but geez she's loud as all hell and is still going on. Meh. Maybe it's the sun. Someone needs to put a beer in 'er." A note from later on, an American told the story of when it happened and we all died laughing since it turns out that the beach is full of rocks and crap and it was probably nothing. I'm not sure how it got so funny but we were definitely in stitches."

This is pretty much how I spent my time in Huanchaco. Sitting on the terrace, drinking beer, watching the ocean go nuts and foraging for the next helping of ceviche, arroz con mariscos and pappas. Let it also be known that the street food will not kill you. I had the both the pollo and beef heart skewers and my stool remained firm.