In the afternoon, two friends I’ve made in Lima escort me out of the city to just past Ancón. I have a very good Petroperu map, which I got from their office. It not only shows me where I am going, but where I have been.
I have a good run on the sealed highway, but I can’t see the coastline, so at the first opportunity I turn off the metal road to check out a fishing village and the coast. There’s no port and it’s not on my new map, but it is on my old Bartholomew map: it’s called Paramonga, and it’s just houses. I’m about to get back on the highway when a local gentleman out for a stroll has a chat with me and invites me to stay the night.
His home is a very tidy place. When sitting in his lounge, which has a grand piano in it, I notice that the ceiling is a woven mat. When I ask him what he does when it rains, he just laughs and tells me that it has never rained in living history here. Water comes by the river from the mountains. We chat and drink a few cervezas.
I’m up early and on the road by seven, heading north for Trujillo through very dry and barren landscape. I’m there in four and a half hours, even with side trips to the sea. Trujillo and the surrounding area still shows signs of a major earthquake, with cracked roads and buildings.
I meet the local Gulf Petroleum agent and he gives me two quarts of oil and free petrol. Great! I spend the night in a hostel and am given a free meal of rice and green beans. I wake up in the morning with gurgling guts— the only time ever on this trip—but a pill from the local pharmacy fixes that.
The roads are quite straight and sealed, but you can’t get speed up because of the vicious clusters of potholes—really bad and sharp. I reach the city of Chiclayo and catch up with Missionary Reverend Bill Graham, my cabin mate from the ship. I meet his family, deliver a small parcel from his friends in Lima, and stay the night.
Before heading for Piura, I check out the local fishing village of San Jose and the beach. The road to Piura is hot. It’s sealed, but those frustrating potholes are back again. Because I can’t get speed up and also dodge them, it takes me about four hours to get to Piura. I take a half hour break talking to four Canadians travelling in a Volkswagen.
In Piura I meet a few Peace Corps workers and collect a couple of addresses for the United States. More pot holes.
Another four hours takes me to Tumbes, where I meet more Peace Corps workers. They are interesting to talk to, as they know the local environment and people well. This is my last day in Peru. I’m able to bunk down on a floor, this time in a banana factory.
I’ve now done 7,700 miles from the start at Punta Arenas, and there are only 26 miles left to the Ecuadorian border.