Rocks, Flocks And Paracas...

Waking up on Saturday, we discovered that the complimentary continental breakfast is only served when the cook wakes up and, even more surprising, that the coffee in Peru is usually instant! Nonetheless, we were naturally caffeinated with excitement thanks to our plans to cruise out to El Candelabro and the Ballestas Islands--an anomaly much like the lines of Nasca and a group of rocky outcroppings and bird droppings commonly called the Galapagos of Peru. Strolling to the shorefront in the dawn fog, we found dormant boats unable to bob on the glassy Pacific surface...

But on the beach, tourists numbering twenty times Paracas' population were hording toward the wharf, surrounded by vendors selling curios. But, most folks were too busy snapping pictures of pelicans being teased into parades by anchovy waving locals hoping for your photos and a few soles...Click each comic for a closer look!
Minutes later, we were aboard and being whisked west toward the protruding Paracas peninsula and the Islas Ballestas beyond...

Where the bay ends and the open ocean begins, a strange massive geoglyph adorns the hardened dune that rises over the tip of the Paracas Natural Reserve. Similar to the Nasca lines, the Paracas Canelabra, or El Candelabro, is equally mysterious--if not more--even if it was known long before modern man had flown over. At well over 100 meters in length, it can be seen from miles out at sea. Logic says it was made by the pre-incan Paracas culture, but alternate theories and persistent questions keep the origins of this time-tested symbol in doubt. For perspective, spy the pelican at the lower right.
Soon, our fleet of tourist-filled powerboats pushed into the fog following all varieties of feathered friends, in low-flying lines, slowly flocking past, guiding us forward. Keep clicking those comics!





Finally, four hundred photos later, and a little wooziness too late, our craft blasted homeward.
The sun began splitting the warm mist as we returned to the bay.
Back on earth, we had another delicious lunch--seafood, cerveza and pisco sours--watching life go by on the beach front.
Two boys played as the afternoon sun glinted of the bay, one boy getting his kicks playing keep-away from a lurking little brother.
The local tip hunter was back with his frustrated pack of pelicans. A tourist looks on as both birds and boy practice patience, hoping to coax a sympathetic prize out of their antagonists.
An hour later, we checked out of our hostel, backpacked onto another bus for a short putter to Pisco, where we would await a transfer. Another classic South American scene passed us in the fading pink Peruvian light.
With little more than an hour to wait, we managed to meander around, seeing the town a wee bit...
Resuming Peru's Pan-American highway, zooming toward the enigmatic Nasca lines--which would pass hidden in the night en route to Arequipa--we passed another sign reminding us of family...on the eve of Dia de Madre.