Trujillo, Peru

Trujillo was a nice break from the beach life. It was the second largest city in Peru and had some beautiful colonial buildings once again. This stop for me was mainly to catch up on work and meet some deadlines. For the most part I didn’t see the city at its full potential but I did see enough where I was ready to leave. One of the highlights was going to these old ancient ruins called Chan Chan. This was a thousand year old city made up of dirt and made me think of Egypt. The whole surrounding of Peru on the beach side is all desert and no trees. Very bland and just brown looking. When you see Chan Chan you try and figure out why they would build this city here. They did. The ruins were us walking and taking pictures of walls cool patterns that they carved into it. Random tour guides were showing tourist all about it while we just joked around.

We headed back to the hostel, walked around a bit for some photos and that was pretty much Trujillo. They say this was the most dangerous city in Peru so we never went out at night to check things out past 10. Overall, it was a huge success for me because the distractions were low and I got a lot of well-needed work in. 

Next stop is Lima. A big city I am really looking forward to and can’t wait.

Chicama

This was a journey in itself to get here. From Mancora we took a bus to Trujillo. Before we left we asked around for advice on getting to Chicama. The locals never heard of it and had no idea what I was talking about. The majority of Central and South Americans don’t know there own tiny town, nonetheless the best wave in the world. It is extremely frustrating and each time you here such advice that is no advice, you keep pushing through to find you destination or goal with or without them. This time, before we left I talked to a guy that said Chicama is on the way to Trujillo and tell the bus driver to drop you off there. We told the bus driver and of course he just nods his head and says sure no problem. A few stops later we reminded him and he says its not on the way. We show him the map and reassure him it is. 7 hours later and in the middle of the night the bus driver wakes us up and says “Chicama?” We go “Yes!”. We look out the window in high hopes of the beach and it was the side of the road. The driver unloads our stuff and says “Chicama”. I ask where is the beach, he points in some direction. They drive off. Arve and me are in the middle of the freeway and no bus or taxi to Chicama. Geared up, we start walking towards a gas station to get some advice on where to go. They pointed to some bus stop down the road. We got some tuk tuk to take us there. Which was about a 10 second drive that we could have walked in 30 seconds. Now were at a bus stop! This bus stop was just a piece of gravel on the side of the road and 2 or 3 tuk tuks waiting to pick up people. These random events like this have happened to me countless times so this isn’t stressful. It more laughter than anything else because we have no idea where we are and trying to find a town most people don’t know what it is. Since we are much closer, the local taxi’s did know where it was. It was far enough to where they wouldn’t drive us and the only way was by bus. The area was right though; lots of buses were coming in and picking up or dropping people off. None of the buses said Chicama. The tuk tuk drivers assured us one would come and surely it did. Right when all hope was lost the bus came and we loaded up. This time it was a really bad local bus. It had “flat screen” TV’s inside (TV that was inserted into the wall to make it look like it was flat) and funny looking locals. But we were in the right direction and I was getting real excited for the one and only Chicama.

We arrive.

A tuk tuk driver takes us to El Hombre hostel. One of the first hostels in this area and overlooked the beach. Got some food and went to bed.

Woke up the next day to pure heaven. All night I could here the waves and kept waking up in hopes of daylight. I went outside and saw Chicama just peeling for miles. It was like watching a wave from as far as you could see and peeling all the way to your feet. It was unreal and couldn’t bear not going into the water. I grabbed my wetsuit (for the first time on my trip) and ran out to the beach. The run rapidly changed to walking because the water was so far away. To my left was mystic desert deserted mountains and to my right was ocean. The walk to that original point that I saw the waves starting took about 30 minutes to get to. Right when I got there the canyon went back in and exposed another point break that peeled just as long! I followed some surfers in the distant while they hiked through rock and gravel pathway that winded in and around the ocean until we got to the point. Now I’ve walked for an hour and just been watching the waves and never getting in. But, watching these waves and a surfer here and there, they would catch a wave from this point and end up at the hostel miles away. If you couldn’t link up the waves to the next wave you just stop exactly where you are and wait for the set to pick you up again. No paddling and no duck diving. Like I said: unreal.

Finally got to this point where a few surfers were walking out of the rocks into the pounding waves. I luckily saw another surfer that kept walking around this point to some launch pad. I followed him. The timing for this launch pad took about 10 minutes. You had to wait for the sets to calm down before you could jump in successfully without getting slammed back into the rocks. Problem is the sets were so common you had to wait and watch perfect waves bypass you.

It was game on and I jumped in…freezing! The water was fucking cold and reminded me of Oregon water or really cold San Diego winter water. The paddling began and what a workout it was. I hadn’t been in a wetsuit for 8 months so my arms were a bit on the weak side. Instantly caught a wave and took me in 500 meters easily. It was long enough my legs were so tired from turning and even longer that all of my surfing moves were vanished (not that I really have any). The smile on my face was permanent for the next 4 hours surfing. Those first few waves gave me enough energy to not to get out of the water to walk but to paddle back out to catch a wave again. Before I knew it, I realized this wasn’t the best solution and just stuck with the brutal current and just catch all of the waves that came to me. The end of the session I swear I walked more than I surfed. You can catch waves to fast and for so long that you get pushed into shore and have to start all over.

What a complete dream…this was day one.

Got back, tired, eat food and went to bed around 8.

Woke up the next day, got food and met some fellow surfers that were staying at the hostel. It was two girls from Austria (super cool and really good surfers), one French guy, one Holland guy and Arve (who didn’t surf for some reason). I ventured off with my new friends and we surfed all day. Took a break for lunch, rested and did it all over again. Chicama was a break I have been trying to go to for years. It’s rated a 10 on the perfecto meter and I give it a 10 for the best thing I’ve ever seen. Day after day I kept getting waves that were longer than the previous ones. It kept blowing my mind and needed more. It was/is like a drug and have to keep doing it.

I spent a week here before the swell started to drop. The girls had a house they have been renting up north for the past 2 months and invited me to go. Extremely enticing but I didn’t want to backtrack as I’m trying to get to Argentina as soon as possible. That beach house would have been a trap! I know it would have been amazing and sure I will regret not going to it. We all parted ways and Arve and me headed to Trujillo.

The only reason I left was because the town didn’t have any ATM’s and I was out of money. I had to pay with my American dollar reserves just to leave the hostel. This time spent hear could easily turn into an annual trip with my friends and of course show my brother this wonderful gem.

Mancora, Peru

Once again we hoped on a bus. We thought we ordered a nice bus with cool treatments like personal TV’s but it was just a standard greyhound bus with a bunch of stops. After going through customs and getting 3 stamps on my passport! We arrived in Mancora. My friend told me to stay at Loki Hostel. They have a chain in Peru and Bolivia and are the nicest hostels around. This hostel in Mancora was no exception. It had a large pool in the middle; four story hotel style rooms outside and right on the beach. No part of this was screaming hostel. It was a 5 star hotel and cost $10 a night. Best part is this was the start of my surfing in Peru and was very excited. A great surf flick called “Castles in the Sky” takes Rob Machado on this journey through Peru and my goal was to go to a few of these spots. The movie didn’t say where he was but geography was helping me try and solve the problem. Plus, Peru is the land of the lefts and I was in heaven.

After checking in the room, I went out to the balcony to see set after set of perfect 4 foot waves that peeled for days. The break wasn’t protected by anything but still managed to look incredible.

Waxed my board and ran out there. You had to paddle around the waves and fight some current to get in the lineup. It was all locals and the few foreigners (me) in the water. Crowd factor really didn’t exist. The consistently of this wave kept everyone happy and pushed the rookies to the beachside. The water was really shallow and you could see the coral right below your feet. Thousands of sponge like jellyfish were in the water. They were about a fingers length and were shaped like a rectangle. The creature was clear and had a black circle inside it. One rectangle linked with another one and you could see 30 of them connected looking like an according. They freaked me out right away but before you knew it you were playing with them in the water while you were waiting for a wave. I think they start out being according’s and then the water breaks them up. Regardless, fascinating creatures.

The first wave I caught took me all the way into shore and I was addicted immediately. It’s one of those waves that makes or breaks the beach. It was a make for me! The second wave I caught dropped me off right into the reef. I kicked my feet to grab my board and slashed my toes and knee into the coral. It was instant bleeding but not enough to kick me out of the water. It was all fun a games. The session ended with me watching one of the best sunsets on my trip overlooking the town.

Got back into the hostel and the party was started. The hostel had about a 100 people staying at it, so no matter what night it was, something was happening. After the hostel closes, everyone goes to the beach. One of the nights we all got to the beach and it started to monsoon pour rain. It must have rained 6 inches in an hour but we all kept dancing in the streets like a bunch of kids.

Overall, Mancora has one incredible break and I can talk about it for days. The majority of this town is party. There are a few hostels but Loki overpowers all of them and looks like a castle compared to these housing around town. It’s a town that when I come back to visit will be 5 times larger and may not be fun anymore. For some reason not a lot of surfers are in the water and one hell of an introduction for the surf in Peru.

Next stop Chicama!

Guayaquil

Guayaquil is literally a hub point for Ecuador, and mainly to ship people to the Galapagos Islands and anywhere away from here. The city was ugly and not much to see. In fact the bus station was the nicest part of the whole place. It was a mall and a bus station! Whoa. This is why we only stayed for one night. Pele had to go back to Sweden for his job while me and Arve were heading to Mancora, Peru. That being said we went out and got some food and reminisced about the good times.

Montanita, Ecuador

We arrived in Montanita in the morning to an obvious party beach town. For me it was a well-known surf break and was eager to get in the water since I hadn’t surfed all throughout Colombia. As for the town, it was covered in hostels, restaurants, bars and lots of unfinished construction. The first hostel we stayed at was halfway finished and the top floor where our room was was just concrete. It did overlook the beach so it was worth it for a night. I grabbed my surfboard and we all headed to the point. Pele and Arve didn’t surf but they were renting boards. They went straight out in to the whitewash while I headed to the point where the waves were looking really fun. The paddle out was pretty far. It was a series duck dives and about 150 meters out. The real point was crowded with locals and then one foreigner: me. They were all really good surfers too and really surprised by the technical lines they were pulling. If you got in the right wave it would take you all the way into shore no problem. Luckily, I got a few so it was all worth it. About 2 hours into the session about 15 locals paddled in, all wearing their colored rash guards. They politely asked everyone who was not in the Ecuador surf club to leave. This polite gesture meant business and looked like they were the local Huey from Hawaii. I somehow got the next set wave and took me all the way into shore so I called it a day. I headed back to where the guys were, grabbed them and we went back to the hostel.

That night we found a Argentinean steakhouse and decided to treat ourselves to some good food and a bottle of wine. I haven’t had this yet on my trip so I couldn’t say no. While we were eating a group of Argentinean girls sat down next to us and ordered food. Later on they were trying to take pictures and I offered to take some for them. Pele then jumped in with his Spanish and we ended up eating dinner with them for the next few hours. What a team! We told them about our crappy hostel and they recommended one down the street where they were staying.

That night we headed to the beach to see what the fuss was all about. It reminded me of Thailand and the full moonlight party. Tons of people were on the beach, small one-person bar stands and workers wondering around trying to sell you stuff. Once you walk in from the beach on this one road, thousands of people were dancing. No one was even going into the bars. Mainly because there were so many mini bars outside you didn’t need to go anywhere else. It was pure chaos. Once again this involves another one on one story but these people didn’t stop partying on the beach until 8 in the morning.

A few days pass and it looked like all three of us were getting sick. First it was Pele, then Arve, then me. For a solid 2 days I couldn’t move or eat anything. This next few days also involves a personal story that I won’t write.

That next day we woke up at 8 and got on some boat tour that was taking us the national park. This was a tour that advertised adventure and snorkeling. We were wrong. We ended up being on a bus for 2 hours to get there, hanging out at some beach for half the day, and then getting on a boat for a few hours to snorkel an empty coral reef with no marine life. If it was the next day and I had managed to get some sleep and be 100% healthy the trip may have been good. I look back at the pictures now and knew it could have been fun, but it was another tour that tells you when and what to do, which I can’t stand. Still can’t belief I fell for the tour again.

Montanita had its time and was ready to go. It was turning into the same thing everyday and needed to get out. Next stop was Guayaquil.