Going round in circles

Trip Start Sep 28, 2011
Trip End Ongoing

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Flag of Peru  ,
Wednesday, May 2, 2012

My alarm clock rapes me awake at the earliest time I've been up for the best part of seven days.  I packed my bags the night before, convincing myself that I'm getting out.  I've even managed to latch on to a pretty girl heading the same way, almost using her as an excuse to force me to leave.  It works.  Thank goodness I'm on a bus to Ica in the afternoon.

As much as I need to move on, The Point hostel in Lima has been pretty good to me.  I've had a lot of success there, and some crazy wild nights, as well as meeting a good handful of sound people.  It's no surprise that it's hard to drag myself away.  If it ain't broke; don't fix it.

But fix it I must, for the world awaits, and I can't just be getting messy and chasing skirt all the time.  Who am I kidding?! Of course I can do that, just in a new venue.  Huachachina will do.  It's a desert oasis about 8 minutes in a taxi from Ica, some 5 hours south of Lima.  I've never seen sand dunes, and folk pretty much head here for one thing and one thing only: sand boarding.  I wonder if I'll have the balls to give it a go.

I'm subjected to a fit of the terrors while trying to sleep on the bus.  My late night yesterday and early start today ensures I can't stay awake to watch the crap bus films, so in my attempt at some shut eye, I found a nasty attack of the hag.  It serves as a warning to lay off the booze for a couple of days, yet when I discover a recent fling staying at the same hostel, it's not long before we're all back on it, partying at one of the few bars in the 100,000 population town.

I've walked into the hostel and instantly felt a sense of unease.  Kate my travel companion has sat down next to friends she knows, so I'm left to my own devices for a while, surrounded by people who look like they know what they're doing on a sand board.  One Aussie guy is built like a tank, and I'm suddenly taken over by the feeling that I shouldn't be here.  Another beach town that isn't by the beach.  I've so far managed to avoid doing anything 'extreme' on this trip, save singing Bon Jovi at karaoke, but here I've no escape.  Sand boarding is the only reason anyone should be here.

I'll see how I feel tomorrow when I'm standing at the top of a 300ft dune, but right now I'm content to get back on the sauce and try some Pisco Sour, a local alcoholic beverage that leaves me utterly destroyed.  This is after around 5 shots of the stuff, followed by a drunk game of Jenga which I lose, and promptly derobe all my clothes and swim butt naked in the lagoon as a forfeit.  I then get into a heated discussion with a born again christian, who is totally tanked on coke and booze (?), before crashing out in a hostel bed with the girl I met back in Lima, too messy on Pisco to do anything yet again.  She's heading south tomorrow.  Three strikes and I'm out.
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