Mancora (SR)

The north coast of Peru is another world, perhaps Mars. I have never seen a coastal desert before, not like this one with towering sand mountains that sweep down to the Pacific ocean, defying gravity and time. The Pan American highway is a mere track with a wall of sand on on one side and sheer shifting cliff on the other. No guardrail of course.

We stopped in Trujillo, a strange town (source of El Niño and bad pizza) wedged between 6,000-year-old ruins of the Chimu and Moche (1000 AD)civilizations. These people predated the Incas by centuries. They worshipped octopi and sacrificed humans. Their sand pyramids with charming bas relief sculptures are sturdier than the concrete and rebar uglies they build in town today, and will likely outlast them.

Then on to Mancora, a sweet fishing village 4.5 degrees from the Equator. The ocean is welcoming green, the sky is filled with pelicans and frigate birds and the sand is the softest in the history of soft sand. In this part of Peru we are enjoying the gentle side of Pachamama at last.