This image taken from http://www.ultimatechase.com/chase_accounts/nazca_lines_peru_stock_photos.htm

I first heard of the Nasca Lines on some ‘news of the weird’ Erick von Daniken TV show. The world at large barely registered them until airplanes began to fly over Peru. The Lines are ‘drawings’ in the sand, formed by removing rocks to reveal the differently colored substrate. Thanks to the extremely dry climate, they remain nearly as built  more than a thousand years ago, other than one inadvertently truncated by the Pan American highway. I’ve read that they cover an area more than 55 kilometers in length, but there’s a lot of discrepant information out there.
Here’s a layout courtesy of
http://www.go2peru.com/map_nazca_lines.htm

The mummified remains, buried in underground rooms,  were accompanied by tools and household goods, including valuable ceramics, and fabrics, which rarely survived. Grave robbers left the remains scattered about, and archaeologists have been gathered what they could and set back in place. What looks like tails is in fact hair.

The tourist can be flown over the Lines in a small plane, or can climb a metal tower beside the highway for a quick peek at the nearest image, which is the option we chose. Some of the images can also be seen from nearby foothills.

Even if one of the figures may resemble an astronaut, I’m not buying the ‘aliens in spaceships’ theory about the origin of the Lines. I like the idea expounded by the astronomer who gives the nightly planetarium show at the Nasca Lines Hotel. He points out that this was a desert culture necessarily focused upon water, who perhaps made processions of prayer or praise along the straight Lines which might have been oriented towards a particular source.

Spiral wells built by the Nasca people still exist and are still in use. This is one of several which channels an underground stream from several miles away.  The figures, the condor, hummingbird, monkey, spider, hand, and others (the astronaut?) might have been intended to remind the gods (the Sun?) of the presence of the Nasca people. If so, I find such earnest and laborious supplication very touching, and more rational than von Daniken.

Dr. Maria Reich, a German mathematician, was so fascinated by the Nasca Lines that she spent  her life researching them, right here in this room, now a museum. You could say she was the one who put them on the map and gave Peru’s tourism a big boost.

As usual, Wikipedia can tell you a lot more.http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Nazca_Lines

Here are a few more pictures taken in the area

If you read the atlas you{ll learn that much of southern Peru is a desert, but nothing puts that so firmly in mind as a ride along the Pan-American highway south from Lima. From the second floor of our behemoth Cruz del Sur bus, we looked out over an ashy-tawny expanse of mainly sand,  interspersed with small stones and rocks, and ranges of mountains – the Andes!- moving in and out on the eastern horizon.

Sometimes we ran closer to the Pacific, where towns like Pisco lay at the end of dusty spur roads. This area was subject to a major earthquake five years ago, which accounted for at least some of the battered and crumpled look of what we saw. The country performed a wide-scale simulation of earthquake (sismo) preparedness strategies on the anniversary.

Our destination this day was Ica and Huacachina. The former revealed itself to be an agricultural center for the production of onions, celery and grapes, particularly the grapes from which the Peruvian form of brandy known as Pisco is made. Agriculture in the desert, you might wonder how they manage. I saw an Israeli breakfast in a restaurant, so maybe those desert-renewal experts are in town helping out.

So far the water  has been mainly from wells tapping underground streams draining from the Andes, and from Andean rainfall running down riverbeds during three months of the year. The actual annual rainfall here is measured in scant fractions of an inch.  But they are running short, the wells are getting deeper, the rains not as reliable, and it is a wonder that an estimated 220,000 people can support themselves here. Among the things we were told, and, as usual, there is no knowing what is really true  is that there is a strict prohibition on the construction of any new well, but also that the Chileans (who seem to be the villains in many matters) are buying up land and planting cheap grapes to flesh out their own wines. 

Huacachina is an oasis just a few kilometers from Ica. The oases (?) of my imagination rise up from flat desert, whereas here the oasis is a fold among high surrounding dunes, but it is a classic, pretty little lagoon that you can walk around in twenty minutes. It is surrounded by palm trees, and small hotels and restaurants. The attraction here, other than the sheer shock of the scenery, is that one might go sandboarding, or careening up and down in a dune-buggy. We clambered up to one of the tops to take in the sunset and on the way were overtaken by a squad of incredibly fit military types who ran through the sand like it was asphalt.

The lady at the hotel Curasi told me that there used to be seven oases like this in the area; hers was the only one left, and they been topping it up with water from a truck for several years now. Her family had been waiters in the restaurants, saved their money and were able to built their hotel on the proceeds, so they have a sure interest in keeping the oasis irrigated.

Like everywhere else we have been in this Peruvian winter, it is pleasant during the day, and two-blanket chilly at night. And I forgot to mention that in this up-side-down hemisphere, the toilets, given the chance, do in fact flush clockwise.

Ica has a flag-raising ceremony in the downtown Plaza de Armas every Sunday morning. These were among the many schoolchildren, boys and girls,  taking part. They enjoyed having their picture taken, and wanted more!

Each Sunday there is a fifty-block ‘take back the calle’ street fair on Avenida Arequipa, where in addition to the bikes, skateboards, rollerblades, baby strollers and dogs, there was high-energy dancing, tai-chi -like something, free sports drinks, climbing walls, acrobatics, even an outdoor beauty parlor, all of which we surveyed from our rented bikes.

Later in the day, down on the seaside cliffs, we gawked as the ‘parapentes’ parasailors stepped the cliff and tacked effortlessly above the Sunday strollers and shoppers at the Larcomar mall which also sort of hangs from the cliff. When is the last time you did something for the first time -that thought has been with me recently, but somehow I avoided the opportunity to glide in tandem with a presumably experienced glider for twenty minutes and sixty dollars. Maybe next time?

All this activity took place under a chill and dreary cloud – the garua, a sort of fog bank, which blankets the coast from ?April to December. Thankfully, it doesn´t seem to quite reach the ground.

I think it’s partly because of the cold Humboldt current which comes up the coast. The surfers, and we could see dozens, were of course in wetsuits but the waves looked nicely formed and regular, so much so that we were wondering how boats could access the nice yacht harbor we saw. According to the guard, it’s not always quite so rough, and sometimes the harbor is just closed. Also it was a private harbor behind high walls, holding only local members’ boats of the Wellcraft and catamaran type  Anyone thinking of sailing to Peru should read the comments on noonsite.com (and avoid Paita).
http://www.noonsite.com/Countries/Peru?rs=ClearanceAgents#YachtClubPeruano

The two best attractions we saw, other than the streetscapes of Miraflores, Barranco and the center of the Old Town, were the Larco Musuem and the nighttime display of fountains at the Parque de la Reserva I think it’s called. The museum is nicely presented, with signs also in English, the pottery is admirable and you can learn a good deal about the various cultures which preceded the Incas in this area.

The park is popular with everyone. The fountains are colored and lit and computerized; we laughed and laughed as people tried to wend their way dry through the randomly timed jets of the Labyrinth, then tried it ourselves. Wouldn’t want to get too wet though. It’s the dead of winter here, July and August, temps down to the fifties at night and always gray  It doesn’t seem that anyone has heat, just jackets and scarves and for us the comforting press of heavy blankets in our hotels.  I’m really glad to have my flannel pajamas which emerged from four years of zip-lock but are most welcome now.

I’d also like to mention an ambitious construction site we saw. Like everywhere downtown traffic can be horrendous. The solution here is to make a tunnel beneath the Rimac River starting just about where Pizarro planted his flag to found the city (in January when the sun is shining say the guides)  It’s a three year project – in the meantime the river has a little channel alongside. That’s the famous Pan-American highway which runs the length of the continent that they’re burying.

Next, off to the desert. I hope I’ll be able to add my buckets of photos to my SmugMug site but right now seems not. Things are going to be a little rough for a while.  Later!