We have planned a tour of the nearest mountains with the campground owner Eric after we have rested and recovered from our drive but chores need to be done of course. So we started out trying to erase the wurst of the dirt accumulated by giving GANNET2 a scrub inside and a rinse outside as lizard-like we enjoyed the fresh mountain air and bright sunshine at 7500 feet.
That old bugaboo of the homeless traveler reared its head, laundry, and Google Maps to the rescue of course. Open it up on the nearby town of Caraz and type in the English word “laundry” and three pop up, but only one with a drier. It got good reviews too.
We left Rusty in the van as it’s his safe place when we are gone and we hailed a tuk tuk for the dollar ride into town. He could have come but we weren’t sure what we would find so we thought it better to leave him.
As much as the laundry looked closed we knocked and sure enough the peephole opened and we got the promise of service by tomorrow.
Then we walked a dozen blocks into town not sure what we would find. Supposedly this is a tourist area.
My ATM card isn’t working in Peru for some reason but Layne’s is so we got in line to withdraw our daily maximum of $100 at the only bank that doesn’t charge a fee. One thing we’ve learned in Peru is nothing works very fast so the notion of popping in and out is not realistic.
There isn’t much to see or do in Caraz as a tourist. We looked for a coffee shop on the plaza to sit and people watch but there was nothing, no cafe no sidewalk tables and that prompted one of rose irritating “I miss Colombia” moments.
The people are shy and march around dedicated to their purpose which gives the town a rather weird vibe. I like to try to engage and mangle some Spanish, crack a joke to break the ice but it doesn’t work here. They remind me of people in the Soviet Union who were curious when I blundered through their towns but were forbidden to speak to the outsider. I don’t think there’s any forbidding here except perhaps the custom of the country.
Dispirited we got a tuk tuk and struggled to explain to the driver how to take us back to our compound.
We remembered in Barichara in Colombia we’d say to the tuk tuk drivers: “Joop’s place” and they knew instantly we wanted to go to the campground owned by the Dutch couple out of town. Apu Eco Lodge means nothing here. “Take the highway toward the canyon and we’ll tell you when to stop” we said. Luckily we speak Spanish.
There is great beauty here and friends of ours are planning multi day hikes in the wilderness but I’ve had enough of the white mountains. Hopefully the planned tour with someone ended driving comes off but I’m ready to keep driving.
Layne likes the peace and quiet and Rusty enjoys sunbathing in the grass but I’m ready to drive. There are some tourist sites to check off before we get to Chile and I’m anxious to get them done.
Time to drive.
