24/06/2019 – Travel day, Cuenca, Ecuador, to Mancora, Peru

We both had a restless sleep, possibly due to the cold, and possibly due to some angst about the oncoming border crossing today. Lonely planet has labelled it the worst border crossing in South America, so although we had read some positive experiences of other travellers online, it was hard to get the statement out of our heads. We had an early breakfast, coffee, fruit and chachi – a bread/cake like snack cooked in banana leaves. We said goodbye to our host Gary and caught a taxi to the bus station. We got onto our bus toward Huaquillas, the nearest town to the border crossing. The bus was pretty basic, but clean and comfortable enough. We were the only people on the bus to begin with, and both fell asleep for the first couple of hours of the journey. When we came to a bit more there were a few more people on the bus, but at most still only a quarter full. Joshs’ newest interest is free diving so we spent some time doing breath holding exercises with an app on his phone. I got bored after a while and quit, but Josh managed to hold his breath for 3 minutes! About five hours in to the journey the bus went into a layby with some taxis pulled up alongside it. We were asked by the bus drivers assistant if we were going to immigration. When we said yes they shuffled us off the bus and into a taxi. It was kind of them, as it did save us time and money from going right into the town centre and having to get a taxi back on ourselves. We got taken to immigration by our taxi, the driver pointed us in the right direction for the building to get our exit and entry stamps. We managed to get our Ecuador exit stamps quickly and then in the same building waited in line for our Peru entry stamps. When I got to the counter the lady was quite hostile, asking where I was from and what my job was. She wouldn’t give me the 90 day visa I should have been entitled to, for reasons I am not sure, but we settled on 60 days which should give us plenty of time to explore Peru! Our fingerprints were scanned and out photos taken too. It wasn’t too busy at all and there were much less Venezuelans than when we were at the Colombia/Ecuador border. Inside this building was a little pop up stand with a lady to organise taxis from the border. Assuming this would be the safest way, in a legitimate taxi, and knowing the price she was offering was appropriate, we accepted her offer and she organised the transfer for us. We got picked up and the luggage loaded and began or car journey to the town of Tumbes. To say the driving wasn’t a relaxing experience would be a huge understatement! The driver asked us where we were from, and after we answered completed the rest of the journey in silence. Interactions with locals and officials felt hostile since we had been at immigration, I am not sure why. We drove for about 30 minutes into the town of Tumbes, which we had heard was a very unsafe border town. Our plan was to go to a bus station and get on an onwards bus as soon as possible. Instead our driver pulled up beside a small car park filled with people carriers, greeted his friends (who were to be our next drivers) took his money and left us there. The drivers friends grabbed our luggage, chucked it on the roof of a people carrier and tied them on with some small pieces of string. It became apparent we were not getting a bus but a taxi collective along with the locals! We were charged $5, probably double what the locals had been charged, which meant we also got the front seats. (Also they had seen us receive $10 in change from the taxi driver, funny that it cost us exactly that for our tickets!) Mothers and babies and grannies and grandpas piled into the back, childrens car seats not a thing here, rather sitting on a lap means another available seat! We drove along the coastal road to our destination, a town called Mancora. It was a pretty hot drive, the ambient temperature over 30°C and no AC in the car. The sun was beaming, the ocean gleaming and on the East we were surrounded by barren and dry land. We pulled along the side of the road for people to get out every so often, each time everyone able to breathe a little easier with that much more space in the car. After no time for any breaks or food since breakfast, Josh was so hungry he ended up scoffing some melted Toblerone to keep him going. Eventually we pulled into the side of the road in a more lively location, and everyone got out, and the bags were untied and thrown on the floor. Josh and I were swarmed by motortaxi drivers, who were excited at the prospect of overcharging a gringo for the journey and making some extra money. We figured we must be at our end point, the surfing town of Mancora, so got out and took one of the drivers up on his offer. The motortaxis are little motorised tuc tucs, which the drivers happily pile passengers and bags into, and they are cheap as chips. Our driver took us via an ATM so we could get some Peruvian Sol currency and then to our homestay for the night, ‘Las Buguimballias’ apparently named after a type of tree. We got introduced to our host Virginia, and shown to our room. We had a big spacious room with an en suite shower and toilet, and a fan and mosquito net. We got freshened up pretty quickly then went to take a look at the beach, vast stretches of fine sand and a nice wavy blue ocean. This will do for the next two weeks! Then we walked along the main street and stopped for a coffee. We walked along to find Laguna Surf camp, as this is where Josh has booked a little surfing camp for the both of us in a couple of weeks time, and we wanted to check everything was ok with the booking as correspondence from them had been slow. It is lucky we did as the lady doing the admin was quite confused by the booking! It all got sorted in the end though, and the accommodation and feel of the place is nice and small, quiet and friendly, so that is definitely something to look forward to! Then we walked a little more to a hostel called ‘ The Point’ which is where we will stay for the following five nights with Marky and Goldie, to find out about check in and suss the place out for tomorrow. By this point we were so hungry, or hangry. We walked up to the main strip of market stalls, shops and restaurants and stumbled across an Italian called ‘Chan Chan’. Our waiter was a nutty Australian man who wanted to talk Theresa May and Brexit at us, in what I can only assume as in a half drunk manner! We shared a lot of food, and had a couple of drinks. Josh found out this evening that Uncle Mike, who has been ill for a little while, sadly passed away today. We have spoken to Trudie and Pete and the family, but it is always a bit strange being away from home and family with news like that. We walked home and had a shower and tucked up under the mosquito net. There was a little power cut (every time we go to these small surfer towns!) but it was all up and running again fairly quickly so we managed to have the fan overnight.