Playas del Peru

Travel blog: Beaches in Peru
Monday, 07 Jul 2008 11:08

Rhian Nicholson has swapped the bright lights of London for a three month journey across South America from the Pacific to the Atlantic coast. Here is her fourth blog entry: After a month of seemingly endless jolting journeys across potholed Andean roads the prospect of spending a few days lazing on the beach seemed like an inspired idea. And so it was off to Mancora, a small surf town on the Pacific coast swarming with backpackers from all corners of the globe determined to destroy as many liver cells in as short a time as possible. With the majority of the bars offering two for one cocktails for a mere ten soles (less than two quid) and blasting out cheesy music you'd be forgiven for thinking you'd stumbled into your old uni's student union during freshers week. In fact, the only landmark to get your alcohol riddled brain to register you're still in Peru is the Panamericana, the massive highway running the length of South America and lined with Mancora's bars, restaurants and shops selling knock-off surf clothing. The fun really starts when you're wandering out of one of the all-night bars after one Mojito too many and swatting off the tuk tuk drivers clamouring to drive you the 150 metres back to your hotel, when suddenly a heavily laden articulated lorry swooshes past less than a metre from your nose. As you may have gathered health and safety does not rank highly on South America's list of priorities. Unfortunately Mancora attracts as many bugs as it does tourists - and even extra strength DEET fails to stop them enjoying a three course meal on every available patch of skin. More benign but equally annoying - mainly due to their inexplicable desire to die in their dozens on the bathroom floor was the plague of crickets that covered the town's walls and had a nasty tendency to fly at your head. Mancora's drink till you drop nightlife tends to curtail daytime activities to lying on the fairly gritty sand like a stupefied, beached whale, necking juices in the beach cafes or browsing the market stalls flogging overpriced souvenirs. Even going for a swim in the rather nippy water can be taking your life into your own hands with surfers and kiteboarders cruising past - some of them not entirely in control. Technically it's Peruvian winter time now although those grey clouds hide a vicious sun, capable of turning pasty skin lobster red in just a few minutes. And talking of lobsters, Mancora is nothing short of food heaven for seafood lovers. From king prawns and crabs to slabs of freshly caught white fish, sit down at any of the greying plastic tables and the catch of the day will appear before you about an hour later (this is after all the land of mañana). In good old Inglaterra munching on lobster generally costs an arm and a couple of legs. In Mancora on the other hand, it's less than a fiver for a plateful with a few chips thrown in for good measure. And to give your taste buds a proper workout, the Peruvian speciality and supposed aphrodisiac Ceviche comes top of the pile. For the price of a Big Mac you get a mountain of mixed seafood marinated in chilli, lime and onion with a serving of sweetcorn and a boiled yam. Meanwhile if you're looking for something to enhance your night, a few of the health food cafes offer maca - otherwise known as Peruvian Viagra - baked into cakes. Further down the coast, the seaside town of Huanchaco also offers the chance to catch a few waves or savour the fruit of the fishermen's efforts in their famous cigar-shaped totora boats. More laid back than Mancora, it is bizarrely reminiscent of Hastings seafront with families taking a stroll along its rickety pier, groups of teenagers lazing about on its windswept rock-strewn beaches and the smell of fish floating on the breeze. All that's missing is the crazy golf course and the peeling Victorian railings.

Rhian Nicholson