Trujillo, Trujillo, Trujillo!

Domingo 27 de Julio

As our July vacation rapidly approached, Ania, Rachel and I took our sweet time making any definitive plans. Originally, we intended to book a bus to Huaraz, a mountain area where Ania had some friends we could stay with. This plan sounded perfect until we discovered that all the buses were full for the weekend we planned to leave. Being Peru’s Independence Day, the last weekend of July is one of the busiest times to travel. This we discovered the hard way. As we scrambled to find an alternative adventure, we thought about traveling to the south but eventually decided to head north in hopes of finding some sunshine (as we hardly get any in Lima).

Ania only had a few days to travel so we thought that Trujillo sounded like a good destination. After this, Rachel and I planned to set out for this awesome surf and sun setting in the far north called Mancora. We booked a hotel then only to discover that all the buses were booked for Mancora as well! Curses! So we decided we’d just try to make a week out of Trujillo. While the expectations weren’t see too high, we were hoping for some beach time in the sun and maybe some ruins.

Late on Saturday night, we embarked on an overnight bus to Trujillo, which is approximately 10 hours from Lima (the guidebook says 8 hours- it bends the truth more often than not, I have discovered). Groggily we arrived in Trujillo on this early Sunday morning and decided to wander towards the city center (the Plaza De Armas, one of which every city in Peru seems to have).

When we reached the Plaza, some sort of military procession was underway. There must have been at least four types of outfitted troops in the square. After finishing some sort of flag or marching bit, a woman broke out in Opera-like song and everyone stood at attention. Being an outsider at the outskirts of this event, I went to sit down and take my heavy, heavy pack off (um, I often pack like a boy scout…I am prepared for anything). Immediately I was reprimanded by an armed soldier, who didn’t like the idea of my taking my pack off and staying awhile. As we stood in freeze-dance fashion, we watched as people who tried to leave the square were chastised with harsh but silent warnings that stopped them in their tracks. Apparently nobody moves a muscle till the fat lady sings.

We jetted out of the square right when she finished, for fear that we might be stuck there all morning if more singing was to ensue. Trujillo felt like a ghost town this Sunday morning. Hardly anyone was about on the streets except tour mongers and armed military personnel. This undoubtedly gave the town an eerie feel. We decided to grab some coffee, in a vain attempt to shake of the sleepiness inevitable after a Peruvian overnight bus ride.

As we sat sipping greasy coffee in a crowded breakfast joint, a group of teenaged soldiers with guns half their size came marching to the corner. With all the seriousness of troops preparing for battle, the group proceeded to chant the following:

Buenos Dias, Buenos Dias (Good morning)
Desayuno, Desayuno (Breakfast)
Es Delicioso, es Delicioso. (Its delicious)

And then they marched on down the streets. Our first impressions of Trujillo were thus.