Swooping down to Nazca

Back and showered after our strenuous efforts at Machu Picchu, we ate another round of tamales in Cusco and banged down the road. Soaring with the condors, or something like that, we covered a spectacular 600km down to the flat coastal strip of Perú in a couple of days. Another hot road for the motorcyclists among us, with endless curves to wear out the edges of the tyres, and some grouse high-plains scenery.

I wanted to get an idea of the Nazca Lines without going for a joyflight - though we have flown to Europe, then to South America, and poke around the place on a petrol-engined motorbike, I can not stand the idea of extending our carbon signature just to have a gawk at a tourist attraction. After living at Uluru for a few years, I have had about enough of seeing others do it, too. In any case, plenty of aerial photos of the lines are available on postcards and the internet, and a flight in a light plane seemed a distraction. Emily's interest in the lines was a bit limited too. You can climb hill or a tower to get an idea of the lines, so we did both just around sunset and were more than happy with the experience.

We have been feeling the days remaining to us on this trip are numbered - see previous posts - and we still had our hopes on another visit to each of rainforest, mountains and beach. So we poked up the Panamerican Highway to a dive called Ica, then took a left to the Huacachina Oasis.