At about 5:00 a.m. on Monday, May 4, 2015, my all-night bus pulled into the gated area of a small bus station in the town of Máncora, Peru. After retrieving my baggage, I headed toward a gate crowded with hyperactive mototaxi drivers. When one of them asked if I wanted a ride, I told them that someone was supposed to be here to pick me up.
“Brenda?” A young man called out from the crowd.
“Yes,” I responded with a confident giggle. I had found my driver.
Within a minute, I was loaded up in the noisy three-wheeled motorcycle taxi, buzzing down the street in lingering darkness. Perhaps ten minutes later, after driving down a very bumpy dirt road, my driver (Chino) excitedly pointed out the bungalow I had rented – a bungalow owned by his friend Cesar. Soon, I was inside with my bags hastily thrown on the floor, desperately attempting to get some much needed rest.
In this post, I share 97 photos that document my three and a half weeks in this fun little beach town – weeks of healing and growth – weeks of birthday celebration – weeks of sun and surf.
As usual, the photos in this post are thumbnail images. Please click on any photo to enlarge it. The thumbnails leave much to be desired as far as colors and resolution – plus the thumbnails clip all of the edges. I use thumbnails for the post itself, because it gives people an opportunity to get a summary glimpse without downloading huge amounts of data for the high-res photos.
CLICK ON ANY PHOTO TO ENLARGE TO HIGH RESOLUTION
A Private Bungalow
During the first week, I had a little bungalow all to myself. It is a place recommended to me by my friend Sufi, who had been here a couple of times. It is not exactly a “tiny” place. There are actually three bedrooms, two bathrooms, a kitchen, a small living room, and a balcony … with a total of bed space that could accommodate at least twelve people.
I had it all to myself, for the grand sum of 100 soles per night, or about $33.00 US.
I stayed in this isolated playground for seven nights, spending three days in ceremony, with the rest of the time being spent playing on the beach or resting. The main drawbacks of the place were that it had no internet access, and I was a couple of miles away from the nearest restaurants, stores, and internet cafes.
This is a tiny segment of the dirt road directly below my bungalow. I was not situated directly on the beach. I was above the road (just up to the right). On the left is a single row of beach apartments and hotels, below which is the beach itself. A path leads down to the beach from right about where I am standing.
This is the upper part of that path, stair-stepping down to the warm sands and blue waters.
Zooming in on the beach below (still on the steps).
Looking left (west) at the bottom of the steps. This is a very nice little beach.
And looking right (east)from the same place. I swam here most every day that I lived in the bungalow.
That is a bunch of boats in the background. There is a large pier down there jutting out into the water.
Standing on the beach looking back and up. The stairs that I came down enter the beach at the right center of the photo.
I actually considered renting an apartment in the white building at the top left. I could have rented a very nice apartment for about $24.00 per day … but it also did not have internet, which is a necessity for me.
Almost every time that I came down to this beach, I would swim right here for a while, and then start walking to the left (west).
This beach runs from the west (slightly south) to the east (and slightly north), with the ocean waters being to the north of the sand.
A scene along the shore as I walk to the west.
… and further west, around a bend, as I continue the walk.
I am now approaching a beach where I spent considerable time just sitting, observing, and meditating.
I found this little covered shady area, with several lounge chairs just begging me to use them.
And I did … I could rest here and enjoy the ocean magic. This is my first quality ocean time in a very long time (probably since I was on the beaches of Oaxaca, Mexico, during my struggles in the fall of 2012).
Looking off to the west from my lounge chair.
This is taken with full zoom, looking off to the west. You can see some logs there in the middle part. This is actually a boat on which some local fishermen float onto the ocean, in a full standing-up position. I will show a couple photos of them later.
Looking from my lounge chair straight out at the mild surf.
At times the waves were intense, and the shore currents made me wonder if it was safe to swim out. One time I was even knocked down by a strong wave. Many times, the currents and surf were very gentle.
Sales-people walked down this beach every few minutes. This one is carrying a huge stack of hats for sale.
And this one is selling horseback rides.
The saddle and stirrups on these horses look just like the one on the mule that I rode from the bottom of Colca canyon.
When they found a customer, the horsemen would get down, help the client into the saddle, and then lead them around for about fifteen minutes.
I was fascinated by some of the textures in the sand. These little lines are created by the splashing and eroding water of surf that goes up, and then retreats back to the water below. It kind of reminds me of canyon systems as seen from above.
Hoof-prints on the shore.
For several days, I was fascinated with these little caterpillars. They were all over the dirt road above. They seemed to be instinctively drawn to reach the ocean surf, where they would likely drown. Many were on this beach. I watched them for a while. They would crawl down and down the slope toward the waves … and then a large wave would wash them back up ten or fifteen feet. They would pause for a few seconds and then resume their downward march with determination, leaving a little trail behind them.
I never actually saw one make it out to open water. The ones I saw just kept getting washed back further up the shoreline.
Another view of the area in front of my bungalow, as seen from further down the beach.
You can actually see the roof of my bungalow in the right center of this photo.
In this photo, I am back up on the road, walking toward my bungalow. That is my roof (the grey area that occupies the right middle of the photo).
The road here is narrow, and quite busy with traffic. The beach is lined with hotels, bungalows, guest houses, and private residences for miles to come.
Looking up at the three bungalows of “Balcones de Mancora”, a private little space owned by a man named Cesar. He seems very sweet, probably close to 65 or 70, and is recovering from some health issues.
My bungalow is the one on the right … the one that sticks out the furthest. That is Cesar’s house (a corner of it) in the lower right.
My bungalow. I think I was the only paid guest here. One other bungalow seemed to be occupied, but I think it was a young friend of Cesar … one who was helping him care for the property.
There is a cute little pool here, about fifteen feet in diameter and about four feet deep – with some bubbling air-jets.
I loved hanging out in this pool for a while after returning from the beach.
Looking up at my bungalow as seen from the pool. You can see the steps leading up, and my large wooden balcony.
I slept upstairs in the loft area. It has a gorgeous view of the beach area below, and is all open air. There is no glass or window screen between me and the outside.
I had a nice mosquito net to protect me at night. It did not take long for me to figure out that there are some really strong-biting mosquitoes in this area, and I am not used to their venom.
From the upper loft area, looking down into the enclosed living space below.
Up in the loft. That is my bed on the left.
Excuse my house cleaning (or lack thereof) … The place was quite dirty and dusty, and I spent literally no time cleaning it up (other than picking up after myself). I was here to play, do ceremonies, and rest.
The only work I did here was to prepare three meals per day. I spent my first day making several shopping trips to town … after which I had all I needed to cook a week of meals.
My little kitchen area.
And looking from the kitchen, through the living room, and out onto the balcony.
This glass table was covered in a dirty (sand) film. I had no cleaning supplies, and didn’t spend a lot of time out there, so I never cleaned it.
Instead, I decorated the glass with a self-portrait of how I was feeling. I was very happy and content, with a huge teeth-exposing grin.
Kind of like this :).
And this :).
And this. I took several photos, trying to get the perfect one.
Then I went inside for more self-photos. I love, love, love this huge mirror in the living room. It made the room feel twice as big. That is me in the middle, taking the photo of me in the mirror.
And another of me in the mirror. I am feeling quite happy here.
From my balcony, looking west and down toward the water. My neighbor’s roof takes up most of this photo. They have interesting construction styles here.
Looking east from my balcony. Máncora is in the far distance. When I went to town, I usually walked (about 25 – 30 minutes) and then almost always returned in a moto taxi.
Looking from above down at Cesar’s property below. That is the roof of his house. He must have had at least eight or ten cats … they were skittish at first, but soon began to sleep on my balcony. However, they were wild, and never got too friendly with me.
From the balcony, looking at the sliding doors of my living room. They would not lock, so I simply lived in a state of trust.
One day I was delighted to see a few monarch butterflies flying around the yard. In this photo (click to enlarge) I managed to get them both … one on each of the sunflowers.
A closeup of one of them.
And the beaches here are filled with little crabs that hide in their holes. Just right of center you can see one of them peeking toward me from his hole.
A few more photos in the mirror. I began to hang out exclusively in my swimsuit, covered in either a scarf or a swim dress (when not on the beach).
… I took several photos, again trying to get the “best” one.
And little Bobby-bear and Brenda-doll were also having a blast. They begged me to get photographic evidence that they were right here with me.
We did a lot of processing together today – taking me deep into childhood body issues.
It was on this day that I was guided that it was time to go out and buy myself a new bikini – something that was forty-eight years overdue.
I promised earlier that I would show a couple of photos of the fishermen out on their log-platform boats. In this one, two people are out on the boat, with one of them standing with the oar.
They were out there every morning setting some kind of fishing nets in the water, and then marking them with a buoy (water bottle) on the surface. Later in the day, they went back out to retrieve whatever they were trying to catch.
Another lone fisherman on his little raft. You can barely see the green plastic bottle in the lower right. This bottle marks the rope that leads to the net or cage that he was setting.
On May 11, 2015, I moved my belongings to town, and rented a small hotel room at “Las Olas” (The Waves) hotel, right on the beach.
This is part of the beach just seconds from my room.
Looking to the west. I spent quite a lot of time under these umbrellas (and also in front of them, getting a nice tan).
My legs, starting to turn from pale white to copper brown.
This area is also a surfer haven.
I did a great deal of processing here as I watched out over the water. At times, there were surfers (both beginners and experts), wild zooming kite-surfers, canoes, crazy tourists on jet-skis, and beach swimmers, all occupying the same crowded area. Today, there was even a snorkeler with spear-fishing gear, right in the middle of the surfers.
I often caught myself observing with deep judgment as old western safety-rules surged through me with opinions of “safety rightness”. Wow, it took effort to drop all concepts of right and wrong and to just bless everyone out there, knowing that all was OK, and that it was not my job to be in fear of anyone getting injured.
Some of the waves here were quite nice. This is one of the better ones, just out from my hotel. They got higher than this at times, but were usually smaller than this one.
One thing that drew me to this hotel is the paradise feeling … lots of open air, trees, and hammocks.
The view from the nearest hammock, looking through the gate to the beach.
The dining area, next to the hammocks. I ate breakfast here every morning.
I even did self-surgery. That little scab used to be an annoying growth on my arm. I got out my nail clippers, dug it out, and let it heal smoothly. The salt water helped a lot.
The inside of my room … it was nice inside, but small, and only had one electrical outlet behind the bed (with very loose connections) … but the internet here has been great.
A little shared balcony area just outside my door. I spent considerable time out here posting photos and doing a little writing. I almost always had it completely to myself.
The exterior of my room …
Looking from my room area down toward the hammocks.
Looking from below, back up at my room.
On Wednesday, I will have stayed here a total of 14 nights … and stayed in a next-door hotel for 2 nights … plus seven nights in the bungalow … giving me a grand total of 23 nights in Máncora.
Another view of the hammock area.
Another section of beach in front of my hotel … taken at higher tide.
Looking east from the hotel. You could see beautiful sunrises and sunsets here … sunrise to the east, and sunset to the west.
There were tons of vendors on this beach too … these are two ice cream carts. I bought (and drank the water of) a coconut a few times sitting right here.
Me, near the hammocks.
Some of the inner area of the hotel courtyard.
Walking onto the tiny street on the other end of the hotel.
There is barely enough room here for one car to drive by a parked car.
I walked this path several times per day as I went out for meals, shopping, and/or errands.
Me walking the path in my swim dress, with my flip flops and painted toes. I painted them while in the bungalow.
A couple of restaurants where I sometimes ate lunch and/or dinner. They are not always open.
Another view of the main street in town.
I ate many chicken sandwiches for lunch, right here …
… and more of the main street.
The “Tao” restaurant … my favorite. I had chicken-fried rice and sweet-and-sour chicken here … by far the best Chinese food I have had in my six years of travel. I met “Giorgio” here, a very sweet man from Italy. He has been traveling for a couple of years, and is also writing a book. We became casual friends.
… and another view looking further down the main street.
The little store where I bought my new bikini. See my previous written blog for the story.
Walking down a side street that goes back toward the beach.
… same street, almost to the beach.
Now, turning left (west) back toward the beach and my hotel.
There were horses here too. That is my hotel, directly above the horses – the tree area in the background.
And another view, from a little closer. I considered going to one of these surf schools today (on the left), but decided not to do so (intuitive guidance and a tired body).
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Another view of my hangout for the last two weeks.
Walking back into my hotel.
Looking out toward the beach when the tide was much lower. There are a lot of rocks out there. When I swim here, I first walk to a sandy area a hundred yards to the east.
And I had to get a few photos of me in my bikini.
Having a blast … sunbathing almost every day.
One final one in the hammock.
On May 19, I spent an hour and a half staring at a light show on the stage as I waited for the 7:30 p.m. “International Festival of Art of the Sun” show to begin. It finally began at 8:50 p.m., with fifteen minutes of boring speeches …
This woman is Ivonne … one of the primary organizers of the event.
I was quite surprised when I saw her on stage. I didn’t know who she was when she had walked up to me at about 8:30 p.m., sincerely apologizing to me for their late start. She had seen me there at 7:15 p.m., patiently waiting for what seemed like forever.
I felt quite honored that she acknowledged their lateness, and came out to tell me so, even though I was quietly and patiently waiting (while considering leaving too) … One day I might get used to the Latin America version of scheduling.
And finally, when the actual show began, it was only thirty minutes of this man from Trujillo – a very fun story teller. He told four stories, all in Spanish.
I understood some of it, but completely missed most of the humor because of language barriers. Everyone around me seemed to be really enjoying themselves. For me it was just a fun cultural experience.
I learned that the festival runs for five nights, and that there is a different act every night. I thought about going back on another night, but never found the time or desire…
Máncora Wrap-Up
It has been a magical time here in Máncora. I am writing and posting this blog on Monday evening, May 25, 2015.
Yesterday, following my heart, I went to a local travel agent and purchased bus tickets to leave on Wednesday morning (May 27) at 8:00 a.m. … with a destination of Guayaquil, Ecuador.
The town itself is not calling to me, but what I will do there is strongly calling. Guayaquil has one of two airports where I can catch a flight to the Galapagos Islands, where I hope to spend a week or two playing and exploring.
Starting a couple of days ago, my enthusiasm for Máncora (and the beach) suddenly diminished, along with an intuitive feeling that my time here is now complete. I feel more than ready to move on.
Tomorrow I will repack my bags. I already gave away half of my heavy crystals, and tomorrow I will likely give away at least a third of my clothes and other miscellaneous items. I have been traveling with over 90 pounds of baggage – a 46 pound backpack, a 30 pound suitcase, and a small day pack with my computer stuff that must weigh at east 15 pounds. I really need to lighten the load. It seems more and more likely that I will be backpacking all through Central America as I head north over the next couple of months …. but that is still the unknown future. I only know for sure that my guidance tells me to drastically lighten my load.
This is my final post while in Peru (at least for this trip).
In just over 36 hours I will begin the next leg of the journey … destination Ecuador.
Copyright © 2015 by Brenda Larsen, All Rights Reserved