Travel Peru, Peru Blog

My feet are fastened on the surfboard. My arms move vigorously, and I can sense the balance just in the middle of my body. My waist and hip turn smoothly and quickly in order to face the big swells. I ride left and right breaks and barrels. Just before the moving ridges batter its pointbreak on the shore, I plunge in the water. Sergio, the instructor, cries out to me: “great, now, go on”. “Sure thing”, I shout at the top of my lungs.
I lift my head from bed when my cell alarm fires off at half past five in the morning. Somebody claims dreams come true?

Out of my sweet visions, I tell reality is quite different. Actually, I am able to stand up on the board, and I pretend I am surfing. But as soon as I try to make a turn, I suffer all the strength of the wave fattening me down the sea. The board skyrockets as I roll, and then I feel the board hitting and blowing my forehead. I struggle to grab the board, but then another wave keeps me on whirling. When Sergio comes over me, he gets puzzled with my most frightened look. And just as he is ready to go forward, I cry out to him: “enough for one day!”

It is eight o´clock precise, and the sun is about to show up. On the shore, there are a few kids in wet suits warming up. What a courage! As I put on my own clothes, I perceive pain and bruises in my chin, hands and feet. However, I am just having a hell of a time as a surfer. Mahaka beach is suitable for beginners, and surfing aficionados. And the best is that we boarders can hit the surf year-round not only in Lima but along nearly the entire Peruvian coastline.

I head for the lookout just above the beach. This is the so-called Malecón de Miraflores, and it features good views of ocean as well as of the Rosa Nautica, a cozy restaurant built on a pier that juts out from the shore. By this time, there are a lot of people with only one purpose in mind: movement. They just walk, jog, or ride bicycles. Some elderly practice tai-chi and you can even find a couple of young men boxing at one of many pleasant parks alongside the boulevard.

Walking up and down the malecón, I distinguish a few peculiar silhouettes breaking the monotonous canvas of the horizon. The cylinder blue tower like a chimney means that I am near Larco Mar, a modern shopping center located on the cliffs overlooking the ocean. I turn back as I better come here at night to indulge myself sweeping on chic restaurants, discotheques, karaokes, movie theaters and other highspots. Honestly, I am down and out, so it would be next time, if any.

Heading north, I wonder what it means what I look up at. Inside a round pool, there are two stone sculptures with geometrical shape. It is a strange design, and I am not able to figure out what it is until I read a sign: Intihuatana or “where the sun is caught” by the Peruvian artist Fernando de Szyszlo. It depicts one of the most renowned Inca buildings as there is still one in Machu Picchu in Qosqo.

At the other side of the bridge Villena Rey, one can see a grotesque statue called El Beso or “the kiss” by the Peruvian artist Victor Delfín. A couple makes out in a very uncomfortable posture. I am at the Parque del Amor or Love Park with benches wrapped in mosaics. I can not help reading a few sentimental words of love inscribed on the benches.

Quite a few miles north, a green garden is laid out with some Nazca drawings made of dark red flowers. Ironically, the Nazca culture traced the figures in the plain desert, and now they make a spectacular scenery mixed with the dark blue of the ocean straight ahead.
I´d like to keep on walking, but it is nearly midday, and I am starved and sweating under the hot sun. I better come back home.

“Early morning, eight o’clock precise…”, A-Ha