03.09.09 – 05.09.09 El Bucanero Hostel, Punta Sal Beach Resort, Peru

Border crossings can be pretty dodgy places. A few years ago, the point at which we crossed into Peru was renowned as being the most dangerous place to cross with an area of no-mans land where rules didn’t apply. However it’s much safer now.
The landscape changed almost instantly as we crossed the border into Peru. Gone were the rolling hills of lush, green vegetation. Now there came a vast desert of dry scrubland, loosely vegetated with a few dry bushes. We arrived at our beach resort, Punta Sal, with clouds covering the sky, but by the following morning, the sun had broken through and we were able to enjoy a full-on day at the beach, complete with a game of water frisbe and volleyball. Punta Sal seems exclusive, as it’s made up of a few fine beach condos and there aren’t the crowds that you find at nearby Mancora. We do sample the delights of Mancora nightlife however, as it’s Ruth’s birthday and she is up for a good party. After top-notch steaks at a grill restaurant on the main strip we head down to a beach bar and dance the night away. Notable to this night out however is the ‘interesting’ tuk tuk rides back and forth to the town through a military check point, scanning for drug-trafficking. Peru was the main supplier of cocaine until Columbia took over but the matter of transporting illegal drugs is still a big issue, and the heavily armed police are there to check every vehicle.

The day after our big night out we sleep in til we’re awoken by Heidi, doing the rounds to get everyone ready for surfing. Robbie, our surf teacher, guides us out into the waves one by one and helps us to get up on to the board. It’s tough to stand upright and I manage it only once. Greg finds himself being pounded by the waves and hit on the head by his board while he’s down. Needless to say he prefers windsurfing and sailing. We’ll need to give it another go though when we get to Oz. A highlight though is catching a glimpse of a humpback whale just metres offshore.

06.09.09

Fishing off the Coast of Punta Sal

The Captain of our boat, Hujo, reminded me of a dark-skinned Paul Newman, only a bit more rugged and weather beaten. He spoke no English, but knew the words 'fish' and 'rock', which we frequently used to determine what it was we thought we'd caught. It was surprisingly easy to get a catch, maybe because the sea was teeming with fish rather than our fishing skills. I enjoyed the primitive nature of our little trip- the boat was old and had many notches in the wood where the lines had eaten away and we had no rods, only line wrapped round blocks of wood. Hujo was very accommodating, helping us all in turn, when we either thought we had a fish, had gotten tangled up with someone else's line, needed more sardine for bait or got our weight wedged in between rocks. We caught 16 in total, averaging 3 each, many which were pink snapper types, one which had poisonous spikes and one of which Greg caught that was like a huge mackarel. A good haul for only a couple of hours fishing, especially since we had to contend with our rival fishermen- the pelicans, boobies and gulls!

For lunch the hotel chef kindly barbequed our prize catch for us, which we enjoyed before a nice long walk along the beach and back into the sunset.