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If you’re driving from Puerto Lopez to Manta…

Showing us his good side

Have a look if you can see any tarantulas crossing the road. Apparently they go onto the tarmac on the roads in the early afternoon to warm themselves up and then carry on into the trees.

We drove past one and looked at each other like “…was that a?” and then saw the one in the photo a few minutes later. After jumping out of the van and taking a few snaps, we stood near him until he had disappeared into the trees to make sure he wasn’t run over. Unfortunately, a tarantula a few metres down the road didn’t meet the same fate- even though we stood pointing and warning the oncoming motorist, he didn’t care and ran straight over it (this was on an A road and there was no traffic so slowing down or swerving wouldn’t have caused an accident), it was such a shame.

After sending my mum the photo, she replied that when tarantulas feel threatened they can run extremely fast and flick hairs on you which itch like crazy. So there you go, this was a friendly tarantula who didn’t mind us taking his photo.

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Recommended Reading

The Gift of Rain

When we were in Puerto Lopez and surrounding areas, I was spending my down time completely engrossed in this book. The Gift of Rain is incredible: every paragraph is full of such gorgeous description, you are transported to pre-war Malay in all it’s glory and into the life of a young half Chinese half English boy who can’t identify with society. I love books with some historical context which can teach me a little something and keep me entertained and this novel achieved that and more- we’re now planning our first trip to Asia next year having been spurred on by this book!

PS If anyone has any recommended reading, let me know!


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A little trip to the lost city of Lobitos

One of Rulo’s surfer friends had recommended Lobitos (which translates to little wolves in English, why don’t we have places with names like that in England?) as a stop off before the gorgeous Máncora. Being a retired surfer, Rulo always likes to go and check out the waves (and compare them to Arica’s, which are always bigger) and have a little chat with the surfers. It sounded like a plan to me, so I just hoped we would be graced with some sunshine and we set off.  The drive was beautiful, we passed through several towns with plenty of children playing together outside their homes, lots of animals and few other vehicles on the roads. The only downside were apart the punishing motorway tolls at an average of 10 soles combined with the petrol prices similar to Chile which were beginning to eat into our budget. Note: Peruvian petrol prices aren’t that cheap and if you’re further up the altitude will get through your petrol much quicker than lower down.

I had no idea that Lobitos and surrounding areas are petrol fields which means it is a gated community with what seemed like an assault course-come-maze to arrive at the beach with hundred of pipes twisting their way over the terrain and up and over the hills. We arrived at the guarded barrier to enter the area and I thought we would be turned away, but instead we were given (what seemed like) straight forward directions. After driving through the assault course after dusk and luckily catching glimpses of sign posts to Lobitos, we arrived about half an hour later (Rulo just said to me it was five, it wasn’t) to the little town and drove directly to the beach to look for a little spot to park up and sleep, which I was more than happy to do. When we arrived next to the little pier, Rulo decided to pop into the nearest hostel, Los Muelles Surf Camp which is a previous British military base in a huge wooden derelict looking building. When he came back out, he told me that he’d agreed on 10 soles to use the bathroom and park our van inside the gates. Even though it seemed like a tranquil place, you can never be too sure. The bathroom and toilets were very basic and quite smelly as the hostel serves more as a campsite with a roof. There is also a communal kitchen, a breakfast menu and non stop music accompanying the surfers relaxing in their hammocks. It’s a very basic hostel which does the job; a roof over your head, a shower and a view of the waves.

I was so happy to be spending our first night in the van, at last we were truly roughing it and we were nice and tired so ready for some shut eye. Unfortunately, our positivity couldn’t make the mattress comfier and we ended up having quite a bad sleep, not only was it cold from us leaving the front windows down ever so slightly to let in some fresh air, they also served as an invitation to an open bar for any mosquitoes passing through the area. I managed to sleep for two hours straight in the morning after my partner in crime had given up all the tossing and turning and gone to have breakfast with the hostel cat. When I finally got up, we walked the eighty or so metres to the beach, had a little lazy picnic and watched the surfers riding the waves whilst soaking up some vitamin D. At times like that, I really don’t mind if I’ve slept well or not, I was just happy to be lying on a sunny beach.

Chill factor on the beach: máximo

Chill factor on the beach: máximo

Rulo spying on the waves

Rulo spying on the waves

The surfers ranged from a boy of about 8 years to a more mature gentleman of about 60

The surfers ranged from a boy of about 8 years to a more mature gentleman of about 60

Los Muelles Surf Camp

Los Muelles Surf Camp

Inside the surf camp, lots of space for down time.

Inside the surf camp, lots of space for down time.

 

One of the old houses which now serves as a surf hostel

One of the old houses which now serves as a surf hostel

 

Driving out of Lobitos was an interesting experience for two reasons; first of all we were able to take in the beautiful old wooden houses which now serve as very basic spacious hostels for the many surfers and body boarders. I can only imagine what they looked like in their hey day and while it is a shame they were abandoned at one point, at least they are being used for something nowadays. Also, whilst the signposts to arrive to Lobitos were nice and helpful, there wasn’t a single one to exit the complex and get back on to the Panamericana. We ended up driving around for about an hour trying to find a way out. After many experiences over my trips on this side of the world, one of the things that I have realised is that many South Americans like to be helpful with directions and tell you which way to go, even of they don’t know. Brazilians for example, can just stick to being vague and wave their hand in a general direction. Chileans and Peruvians will tell you in a very informative tone where you need to go, even if they have absolutely no idea. So we went every which way until a security guard rode over on his motorbike and offered to escort us out…he led us for about three minutes and we still ended up getting lost. About half an hour later, we were back on the Panamericana and heading for some beautiful sunshine in Máncora.

After about ten minutes, the pipes begin to look the same.

After about ten minutes, the pipes begin to look the same.

If you’re not a surfer, Lobitos isn’t a must see but if you like adventure and need a stop off, it is a nice little quiet spot. I’ve called it a lost city because I can imagine that years back there was a lot more going on there because of the petrol, now it is much more chilled although you can see the functioning petrol platforms in the distance.

Next stop: Sunny sunny Mancora.