Arica, Chile

After nearly a week without a port call, we finished our traverse of the Pacific with a stop at Arica, Chile – at the very north of the country, less than 20 miles from Peru. Arica and the area around it have the dubious honor of being the driest place on earth. Typical annual rainfall in Arica is 3mm. In the plateau behind Arica, it is even drier – once it didn't rain for 40 years. Fortunately for Arica, they have underground aquifers that keep them green.

The ship’s satellite internet connection had been down for about five days, and we were desperate to get online [also, we'd become the de facto"internet experts" on board, and we longed for people to stop asking us whether it was working yet...]. The ship arrived at 7am, but it turns out that on Saturday, nothing opens up before 10:30am. We walked through the deserted town for a couple hours till things opened up. Not a lot to see, but pleasant nonetheless—the Humboldt current brings cold water all the way from Antarctica up to the coast of Chile and Peru, and it keeps the climate surprisingly mild for someplace so close to the equator. We happened across the ancient, single-car train that take a laborious trip up the mountains to Lake Titicaca in Bolivia.

We were looking for a place to connection our laptops directly to the internet (instead of using the cafe's). Each time Scott asked, the answer was "sorry". Finally a place would let us connect up! With a sigh of relief, we connected our PCs and uploaded and downloaded and paid bills and made appointments and did all our other life’s little internet chores. Two hours later, we were still busily typing away when BLAM all the lights and power went out leaving the whole place in the dark save for the glow of our faces from our battery-operated laptops.

We waited for a while, but it didn't appear they’d be back anytime soon. The rest of the place emptied out and we soon followed.

So off we went wandering some more, in a now-fully-awakened and lively little town. We had about $12 worth of Chilean currency left, so we found a grocery store and stocked up on mixers worth $11.50. Then it was off to the ship for a mid-afternoon departure.

Lima, Peru

Lima is a huge city, on the scale of Bangkok, or Los Angeles, with wonderful treasures and lots to see. Unfortunately, we had only about six hours in port, and the port, Callao, was a 30-minute drive from Lima and it itself wasn't exactly the prettiest part of town. Given the tight schedule, we resorted to something we had steadfastly resisted the entire trip-to-date – we signed up for a ship’s tour! It actually was quite good.

The main cathedral in town is right on the park-like central square, near the president’s house. Like most of the other places we visited, it was dripping with elegance and gold, reflecting the city’s heritage as a major capital of the Spanish conquistadors. Pizarro is honored with a side chapel in the cathedral. One of the signature architectural items of Lima are the large wooden porches that are attached to the upper stories of the buildings – a reflection of the Moorish influence on Spain.

Nearby was an ancient monastery, only partially restored, with hand-painted tiles and murals. The best part, though, was the library, which looked like it had come straight out of a Harry Potter movie.

Next stop was a house from the 1500s continually occupied by the same family—the current matriarch is in her 90s. It was a bit over-the-top for our tastes, but magnificent nonetheless. The 500 year old tiles were especially impressive.

The security in the downtown area was impressive—big armored vehicles, lot of police, even a mini-tank. Peru has been relatively stable since they got rid of the Shining Path terrorist group, and kicked out Fujimori. But there had recently been a contentious election which resulted in the need for a runoff, and things were a little tense. Nothing we saw, other than the police, indicated there might be a problem, though.

Outside the fancy downtown area, the city is that of a typical developing country. Every few miles there would be a gang of day laborers waiting for someone to come by and hire them. The city was kept nice & clean by women in orange outfits – a way to provide employment for the illiterate peasants who have come to the city. They are all women – they do a better job than the men, and are more likely to use their wages wisely.

The city is built along the sea, and the Humboldt Current kept the weather cool and pleasant. Like Arica, it is very dry and receives little rain—its water comes from rivers flowing down from the mountains. We stopped at a funky little "love park" along the seaside in the swank Miraflores district. An odd tribute to amor Latino.

The excursion wasn’t long – it showed just a tiny bit of what was on offer, but it gave us enough of a taste to want to come back for more.

As we sailed out of port, we passed a recently-sunk ship, that had only the top of the mast showing. Apparently the captain had managed to run into two different boats within the course of an hour.

We'd visit Lima again if were were in the neighborhood. We're not, in general, "big city" people, but we suspect there're a charm, a vitality about Lima that we could enjoy.

Manta, Ecuador

We stopped by Manta, a fishing and shipping port, for half a day before heading off to the Galapagos. There wasn’t too much too see in town – we just wandered around the backstreets. It remained relatively cool for being right on the equator, again thanks to the Humboldt Current.

There were lots of fishermen and their catch, but not a whole not else to see. We stopped to have a cooling beer before heading back to the ship. A street vendor tried to sell us some cards, which we weren’t the least interested in, but we invited him to join us for a beer (he chose coke instead) and Scott and he had an interesting if tenuous conversation in Spanish. We was thrilled to talk with us and have his picture taken; we enjoyed talking to a local.

Though we didn't visit, the town of Montecristi is nearby—famous for its Panama hat weavers. Panama hats, it turns out, are all made in Ecuador. And the finest of them are from Montecrisiti. A number of passengers did make it up to Monticristi, and came back with their very own Panama hat.