Huacachina

We rolled late into Huacachina, basing ourselves at the casa de bamboo. It was only in the morning we witnessed the surreality of Huacachina's setting - the town surrounds an oasis which is itself surrounded by huuuumungous sand dunes. Tali was a little unsettled by the sight - "wait, so are we close to Spain now?" Budding geographer Issy couldn't explain the formation, but did share what yellow she would use to colour in.

The oasis itself is grimy, resembling the dregs of an alpaca stew at the bottom of a sand bowl. "Only the locals swim in it" warned Beth, our host, explaining the large number of mutant limbs on show. 

Our favourite local was Javier, a bar owner who seemed to have an affection complex - to avoid his sweaty hugs/handshakes/kisses we spent the next couple of days detouring around the other side of the oasis. "I'm from Huaca-f#%king-china" he roared at one point, "where are you from?" My reply of "Kensing-f%#cking-ton" didn't quite have the same ring to it. 

In the late afternoon the air hums with the noise of dune buggy engines - we boarded one of the strange, beetle-like machines and skittered across the dunes. Diego, the driver, had something of a death wish, hurling us over the tops of dunes. I was nominated to try sandboarding first, and my abysmal effort shattered my esteem and my pelvis. 

Dune buggy danger selfie

Gollum's cousin

Before catching a night bus to Arequipa we relaxed in town, during which a crazy local (who'd recognised me as a fellow Indiana Jones type) proposed that I go with him on a trip 200km into the desert to "search for lost inca treasure". #brokeback

With love