Trip Start Dec 30, 2010
84Trip End Jul 06, 2011
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Where I stayed
Grab a taxi. Tell him where I want to go. And then it begins. Alot of chat, I get the impression, he asked if I was hungry, ie needed a restaurant to go to? Hostal please. Then, was I tired, did I want a special bar to go to? No, Hostal please. Then, he pulls up at some fancy hotel, turns off the engine and proclaims, 'hostal!'. This was not my hostal. Some guy from the hotel comes over, opens the door and starts to grab my bag. Not tonight! I repeated over and over, Hostal Amigos, Hostal Amigos, gave him my book, Hostal Amigos por favor! The two of them chatted, tried to make out that my hostal was on another planet, never heard of it. My feet are in agony, I'm desperate to get my feet under cold water, it's at this point I raise my voice and start swearing. I made it very clear where I wanted to go, even had the address for him. We drive off. He then asks how much am I prepared to pay for the taxi ride? I shout at him some more and ask to be taken back to the bus station. We then drive down two very dark and quiet alley ways, and surprise surprise, there's my hostal! I guess, in hindsight, I would have found it quite amusing if I wasn't in so much pain. I pay him 5 soles, and when he gives me the change, he drops coins into my hand, slowly one at a time, hoping I'd get bored and tell him to keep the change. No chance.
Get to my room, my feet are a mess, I count 20 bites on the left, and 17 on the right, one toe has been bitten 4 times on top. I sit with my feet under cold water. Oh man!! I pop a couple of anti biotics I didn't use for my tooth and some pain killers as well.
Hostal was perfect. Quiet, spacious, Cable TV, en suite and soft soft sheets for my messed up feet. I grab good night sleep, no dinner, just not hungry.
Day 9 January 12th - It's another stunning morning in Peru. The sun is out and my feet are feeling better, they don't look better but feel better.
Hostal staff are very friendly, when I asked where bus station was, guy pulls out a map and gives it to me. The bus stop I need (every company has their own depot) is only a few blocks around the corner.
With bus ticket in hand, I begin to explore quaint Chiclayo. It reminds me of Hanoi. Now instead of 5 billion motorcycles, there are countless cars, typically, little yellow smartcar size taxis darting everywhere. And similar to Hanoi, there is no chance of crossing the road. There are no pedestrian crossings, no traffic lights. Unlike Hanoi, one cannot inch his way across the street, it's very difficult for a car to avoid you while he's overtaking another. So the trick here, just run for it! I explore the Plaza, they still have their holiday decorations up, people are generally sitting in the shade, enjoying the bright sunny morning.
It's close to lunch time, so I check out the local market. I spot some food like and before I know it, crow like chirping is heading my way. Sit here, sit there, eat here, eat there. I select a place to eat and chose cambito, I think, which comes with rice and beans and limes. Very very tasty! I explore the rest of the market and take an early siesta back at the hostal.
A quick siesta is followed by a look at the Modelo market, further north of the central market. This market is out in the open and some of the colours on view were very pleasant on the eye. I particularly love the wheelbarrow full of limes.
I bid farewell to Chiclayo and head out on another bus journey to Trujillo. The road to Trujillo follows the coast south and is filled with green fields, rice fields, mountains, desert and an industrial site. We pass through many towns and each time the bus stops, I'm thinking, this looks nothing like Trujillo, but then how do I know. When travelling with more than one person, I think paranoia would take over and you would ask, for some reason, when I travel by myself, I trust my judgment and don't make a fuss. I make sure I know roughly how long the journey would take, read about a few landmarks to spot, and most importantly, stay awake! Some sad dog film with Richard Gere was on in Spanish, damn dog films, this one was about a dog called Hachi. Sad story, even in Spanish.
We arrive in Trujillo.