After conversing with other hostal guests from Regina and Boise Idaho, we finished packing up the bikes, maneuvered them through the door to the street, waived good-bye to the friendly Mami Panchita staff, and drove off to begin our real adventure.
Driving along the coast to the south end of Lima, we were so wrapped up in the excitement that we missed our turn toward the Pan-American Sur (South). We turned around and got get back on course, properly drove around the toll-gates through the walking lane (motos don’t need to pay the toll for the highway entrance) and entered the freeway heading…… NORTH!! Oh gads, we’ll need to do another gilligalloo (John’s term for U-turn). Unfortunately the Pan-American is a limited access highway, so the turnaround didn’t happen for about 10 kms. Oh well, we’re on vacation right. We’re just taking the scenic route, or to put it another way, we’re not lost, we’re on an adventure!
The countryside was barren and the occasional cluster of dwellings looked deserted. One wondered if these villages were abandoned for the big city and prospects of a better life. We made a quick pit stop at a municipal bano on the beach to get rid of our morning coffee, but only Duane relieved himself. The toilets that were once in the stalls had apparently found better homes. I guess someone needed them more than the municipality. Ugh! 
As we neared Pisco, we began seeing the remnants of damage from the earthquake that took place here a couple of months ago. Piles of rubble, buildings with no roofs, and tents along the roadside. But as we pulled into the town of Chincha, we spied a new building with a restaurant sign. Looked like a good lunch-stop. We parked the bikes and eventually figured out that the young boy hovering near us who kept pointing to the bikes and then to his own eyes wasn’t asking if he could look at them, he was offering to watch them while we had lunch. Si! A few soles bought security and peace of mind while we ate.
The restaurant had high-class furnishings and white tablecloths, and the pescado was excellent. An English speaking Italian guest made conversation with us, and we quickly realized he was a very wealthy man. His wife (a mucho lindo senorita) his daughter, his mother and father and his 99 year-old grandmother were with him. He owns a vegetable growing farm and a few canning factories which export canned asparagus and artichokes to the U.S. and Canada.
He gave us his card and said if we need anything, no matter where we were in Peru, to phone him. We got the feeling this man has connections and gets whatever he wants. That explains his chuckle when we told him we have to ship our bikes home when we finish our trip because it’s illegal to sell them here.
After lunch we drove past the Pisco turn-off (we had seen enough devastation and wanted to avoid the sight of thousands of people still living on the street) and arrived in Paracas, several km’s south of Pisco. This is the town where people actually board the speedboats.to Islas Ballestas so it was probably a better place to hole up anyway. Although the Paracas Hotel was destroyed by the earthquake, we found a nice hostal, the Santa Maria, and had a relaxing evening and good night’s sleep. Tomorrow we’ll do the boat tour of Islas Ballestas.
