Take off. The smiles are fake - we were scared.
The whale.
The astronaut - was more clear than this picture.
The monkey - was quite obvious before I uploaded it.
The condor - again was reasonably obvious before I uploaded it.
The spider.
The hummingbird.
The view of the desert from the air - reminds me of Olsen paintings.
A baby mummy. If you look closely you can see its wee little hands (more like claws).
Those long things next to the mummies are their dreads. Apparently they did not believe in haircuts in those days. Actually, long hair was a sign of nobility.
The years have been kind.
Surviving the night bus from Arequipa we disembarked at Nazca bus terminal at 5AM, an hour earlier than scheduled. Peruvian bus drivers guarantee you arrive early at either your intended destination, or if not so lucky, that of your eternal destination. Already starting to feel nervous about the Nazca flight (a plane full of Frenchies crashed recently - no one survived) we were transferred to the airfield, only a short distance outside Nazca. Three hours later our flight was finally called and we boarded our six seated Cessna with three other tourists and the pilot. We strapped ourselves in, donned our head-phones and prepared for take-off. Surprisingly Karyn was more nervous than me (I hate flying, commercial flights are bad enough) and noted efficiently where her vomit bag was. Moments after take-off, and not higher than 150-200 meters, the pilot tipped the wing and pointed at the first shape carved into the ground.
Spread across around 500 sq km of arid, rock-strewn desert plain, the Nazca Lines form a striking network of over 800 lines, 300 geometric figures (geoglyphs), and some 70 animal and plant drawing (biomorphs). The most elaborate designs include a monkey with an extraordinarily curvaceous tail (now a Peruvian icon), a spider and an intriguing cartoonlike figure popularly called the astronaut, though others think it’s a priest with an owl’s head. Karyn thinks this symbol is proof of extraterrestrial life (she saw a similar figure when abducted a few years ago). Incidentally, Karyn has been wanting to come here since Virginia (a school friend with one arm) gave her a book on the Nazca lines and alien life in grade five for her birthday (a rather strange gift to give a ten year old). The lines are dated between 900AD and 1300AD (according to a ‘History Channel’ doco played at Nazca airfield prior to our flight), or between 200BC and 700AD (according to a Wikipedia. Note: My other trusted source of misinformation, the Lonely Planet travel guide, doesn’t offer an opinion on the age of the lines).
Back in the air. The pilot pivoted his way between the lines, dipping one wing then happily dipping the next so we could review each drawing from both sides of the craft. Between excited photo-taking and racing to call out the images as they appeared on the ground, I noted the pilot could navigate his way around the lines without even looking in front of him. I found this somewhat concerning. The pilot, taking great care to ensure his five passengers were feeling well, having fun and had all seen the images from all possible angles, hadn’t looked ahead of him for a full 10 minutes. Never-the-less he seemed to know by instinct where each of the other dozen Cessnas were as they all buzzed around us, swooping, banking and circling, all keenly surveying the lines.
Completing the circuit of all the major lines our pilot took us back to the airfield and safely plomped the Cessna back onto the ground. We celebrated our survival again (I'll never grow tired of surviving) by eating the worst burger Peru and Nazca could jointly offer then joining a tour to the Nazca cemetery. We saw a series of graves with long-haired figures sitting in the fatal position facing east (the sunrise) in preparation for the next life. Lots of mummified babies also. We were then brought to the ceramic workshop which was really just a thinly disguised souvenir shop and then visited a guy with a trestle table who showed us some lumps of rock and expected a tip in return. Karyn gave him five soles as she felt sorry for him and did not want to buy gold earrings in the form of a Nazcan hummingbird.
In order to get us closer to Lima we jumped on a local bus to Ica (2.5 hours north). Once there we caught a taxi to Huachina, a small, smelly lagoon surrounded by bad restaurants and overpriced hotels. This place is known for sand boarding (it is nestled amongst sand dunes) and partying (well, according to the Lying Planet). The taxi driver kept saying ¨boogie, boogie¨ (I think he meant ¨buggy, buggy¨) and then made a tumbling motion with his hands and acted out a broken neck – comforting! After declining numerous offers of sand boarding, dune-buggy riding and accommodation, we ate at one of the bad restaurants and then decided to go back to Ica, preferring to sleep at the bus stop… in a hotel (it was a hotel above the bus stop).
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