The wonder of travel is surprise. There are the many places you plan to see, and are gratified by that, and then there are the places you never see coming until they literally surround you. Paracas is one of those places.
We came to Paracas because we had time to. Our reservations in the jungles of Iquitos 10 days ahead, we had unstructured time to peruse the Peruvian coast, and Paracas just happened to be a short evening hop up from Nazca.
We arrived in the evening, which is kind of a pain when you need to find a place to eat and sleep, but is usually kind of magical – you wake up, look around and… whoah, where the hell are we?? Paracas is little more than a single street lined with ceviche stands that follows a quiet coastline with really nothing to do except visit Islas Ballestas and tour the Paracas National Reserve – we did both.
Islas Ballestas is really why most people show up to this little village. It’s ommonly called “The Poor Mans Galapagos”. I think it’s more about aesthetics than biodiversity, but still, the 45 minute boat tour of this gorgeous little set of islands had more than enough to offer.
Heading out to the islands, we pass a “geoglyph” called “The Candelabra”. I put geoglyph in quotes because, while true, it’s a relatively contemporary feature, and it’s origins are said to revolve freemansonry. Give it a thousand years and we’ll talk geoglyph.
Arriving at the islands, we were immediately surrounded with hoards of gorgeous sea birds – seagulls, cormorans, pelicans (a growing favorite), a local variety of booby, and many happy humboldt penguins. Add to that a selection of seastars, crabs and fat and happy sea lions – layer all of this on a set of rather picturesque, craggy and cliffy rock formations and you have a place of breathtaking beauty.
Heading back, we ran in to this enormous group of cormorans splashing wildly in the water. According to the guide they were washing off parasites before feeding. It was magical – we sped alongside them, flying with them, as they finished their baths and flew on to bountiful waters.
The afternoon tour is really what got me. The Paracas national reserve is easy to visually describe – it’s a place where the desert meets the ocean – but to really express being there takes prose (nope, not sorry):
It is a wind-blown forever
in the desolation of heartbreak.
The rocky cliffs will tumble seaward,
and though its body will come to fade,
quietly, a sunbleached heartbeat
will ever remain.
…but then, I’m a romantic and was having a thoughtful day. Maybe it’s just the beach. Look at the pictures, you tell me. It’s one of the most excrutiatingly beautiful places I can imagine.
