Hotel Austria Ica

... is crucial, turning (even on the steepest hills) is pointless, and most importantly: before falling, close every bodily orifice, we still have sand in places we did not even know existed. <br><br>Once we were well versed in the art of bombing down the dunes, we hired a local guy to take us out in his dune buggie to the really big ones. From up there, it seemed like the dessert ...

... voor pussy's ;-)<br><br>Hasta Luego!<br><br><br>English version<br><br>We have arrived in Huacachina, an oasis town close to the bigger city of Ica. Because we arrived late at the evening and we didn't book a hostal in advance, we trusted on our rough guide to find a hostal. That's how we've arrived at hostal Rocha. At first site it looked ok. When we looked closer it wasn't ok anymore, the shower looked like it was 30 years old, people could clime ...

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... we walked along the dune edge... higher and higher (slower and slower)... more and more moaning...! and got to the top of this huge dune... and the moaning disappeared, as the view was gorgeous... sand dunes as far as you could see, and a panoramic view of the little village and the laguna! - we took lots of pictures before we got covered in sand, and found a small slope to practise on... before we came, I thought it would be like sandboarding in NewZealand, basically belly boarding ...

... were a blast but we are trying to stick to ecological tourism, which would definitely not apply. Ica was a dump and their emolientes (the first of our trip, were a B- at best.) Awaiting better ones tonight, here in Arequipa... Tomorrow we raft and the day after we trek into the land of the Condors, Cabanaconde. We may scale a volcano, too, El Misti, if we acclimatize appropriately on our trek.<br>

... us around to more of the vineyard, explaining that the drain on the ground is cleaned in the spring and is actually where the grape juice flows to be fermented, took us to the place where they crush the grapes underfoot, and explained more about the week-long celebration in March where `queens` are selected and they go around to every vineyard and are followed by tourists and everyone drinks and helps crush grapes. We learned afterwards that he was actually just came to hang out ...

... have that particular image burned into my retinas on my way to the urinals. Anyway after this Granny Bogroll disappeared, leaving the way open for another woman to enter the toilets without payment. Big mistake; Granny Bogroll returned while she was still inside. We were then treated to the hilarious spectacle of Granny Bogroll spying the woman´s subsequent exit, and the unfortunate woman bing chased by the outraged toilet-manning geriatric midget. Cue much "Eh eh ...

... v*nill* w*fers for my pet we*sel. We got * t*xi b*ck to the hotel; Nicki went to sunb*the by the pool, while me *nd Cl*ire went to Bolepo for lunch. After this I did * good few hours of blogging (*s I´d been very behind up until th*t point).<br><br>In the evening we were keen to cook for ourselves *nd s*ve money, but the girls in my *bsence h*d discovered th*t *) the mini-m*rket h*d bugger *ll worth cooking, *nd b) the hotel r*ther frustr*tingly h*d ...