In Peru at Last

Today I am writing from an internet cafe en la playa in Mancora, Peru. Currently everyone is happy and relaxed in the sun, but that was definitely not the case yesterday! I don´t have the energy to write out a full post about our most insane day yet (and I don´t mean insane in a good way either), but I will try and sum it up.

It included being the only gringos within hundreds of miles, so that immediately meant we were extreme targets for everything bad. Getting a bust ticket out of Cuenca for the border town of Hauquillas was not really all that difficult so we thought our travel day would go relatively well. We set out on a 5 hour bus ride in a charter bus that was described as a direct bus. Well, ¨direct¨has a very different meaning here apparently. Our bus stopped at every little shack, village and random hut that had someone outside flagging it down along the way. We winded through the amazing Andes so we could work our way down from around 8,000 feet to closer to sea level at the border. The bus trip offered fantastic views, especially when we got to pull over for a few minutes so a little girl could go pee on the road. Amazing.

The bus took the PanAmerica highway for the most part, but ¨Highway¨has a very different meaning in Ecuador. It is slightly wider than a normal road, but it is mostly dirt and gravel and is paved at certain points. The avg speed of the bus trip was probably around 35mph for the long duration. But rest assured, the bus trip was BY FAR the best part of yesterday´s travels.

I need to quickly wrap this up so I can get back to la playa and enjoy this great touristy town of Mancora, so let me wrap this up in phrases only format.

Book told us the border crossing was ¨The worst in South America. I believe it now.
Supposed taxi driver dropped us off in a random town and lied to us about it being where we were trying to go. We had to share a taxi with a mother and three children (who all sat in the one front seat) so we could actually get to Tumbes.
We took 5 different kinds of transportation to get to Mancora.
The best transport being 21 people stuffed in a busted old minivan for a three hour trip down the coast.
We all became much closer friends after spending many, many hours basically on top of each other.
Our mototaxi driver was very fond of Mary and offered up kisses.

Ok, seriously time to go. Sorry for the scrambled and confusing post. But after surviving yesterday, I am just glad to still be able to post at all!

Karl