Lobitos, Peru

It is a while since I have done a long road trip in Peru, though I am hopeful that this year I will reacquaint my buttocks with the rather uncomfortable bike seat on Oli over long distances.

2 years ago I headed North again, with the charming town of Zorritos as my destination, and during my stay went again to Puerto Pizarro, a beautiful fishing village not far from the Ecuador border.

Puerto Pizarro

On my homeward journey I had planned to revisit Cabo Blanco, the old stomping ground of Ernest Hemingway, so researched where to stay nearby. Cabo Blanco is still regarded as an "elite" destination, so accommodation there was expensive, but I found lodging in a hostel in Lobitos, which was only about 30 kms to the South, so booked it online and armed with a map downloaded from the booking site, I started my trip. I had stayed in Mancora before, but that is considered a "party town" so can be very noisy, but all accounts of Lobitos stressed how quiet and peaceful it was. I did stop off in Cabo Blanco on the way to have some lunch, though.

Ceviche for lunch in Cabo Blanco

Typical fishing boat of Cabo Blanco

The view from my lunch spot - with Oli centre stage

One thing I didn't realise was that to get to Lobitos you had to leave the Panamerican Highway and travel some 20kms on dirt - very rough, loose, bumpy dirt! I took this stretch very cautiously, not only because of the poor state of the road, but because there was a distinct lack of road signs! This region of Peru has a lot of natural gas, and pipes cris-crossed the area, with much of the signs referring to the gas company, and many unsigned roads leading off in all directions. Usually on roads like this the most-used one is the one you want, but here many of these "side" roads appeared to have had much more traffic than the "main" one!

I finally reached Lobitos and set about looking for the hostel - it appeared there were 2 part to the town - and I could only find one road linking the two (though I found later than many locals use a concrete storm drain to drive between the two halves as it is quicker than the road!) so followed the map to where it stated the hostel was - and there was nothing there! I went a little further and asked someone and they directed me back about a kilometre, but I still couldn't see any hostels, or anything resembling one. By now I had been in the saddle for over 4 hours so not in the best humour and the booking confirmation didn't have a phone number either. I went back to the other half of town, which seemed busier and asked there, and was directed back where I had been, but took a road I had not been on before and spotted a small sign pointing to a hostel, which I thought was the one I was looking for, so I turned in and asked about my reservation.The lady there didn't question anything but showed me to a dorm room - so I explained I had booked a single en-suite, so she told me she would get it ready if I would wait as it needed cleaning. So I settled down to wait in a hammock.
When I eventually got in it was a dorm room, but with only me in it - and it had an en-suite, which I found out later was the only room there that did - the others shared an outdoor toilet block. It was only later when I went for a walk that I came across the hostel I was supposed to be in - which was only a few minutes away - so I went in to cancel and explain how the map led you nowhere near the place (I showed him the map and he agreed!), so they agreed to waive the cancellation fee. Then I had to go back and eat humble pie at the place I was staying! They must have thought I was a crazy person arriving and demanding my room, which they knew nothing about - though in my defence at no time did they tell me they had no clue what I was talking about, but simply prepared a room for me! They were OK about it, though, and I ended up having a great stay there.

Sunset from viewing deck at the hostel

The next morning I intended to do some exploring round the area on my bike, with a view to getting some fishing done, but discovered I had a flat tyre - not totally flat at this stage, but needing air - so asked the lady if there was a garage in Lobitos. The closest was in Talara, some 25 kms away but she was sure if I went back to the upper town I would find someone with a pump! The main square, where the bus stops, had several people about so I asked there and they told me there was guy at the other side of the square who had an airline, so I went there, but the connector was too straight to fit on my bike (designed for cars!) so he sent me back where he said there was someone with a stirrup pump! He wasn't around but someone went off and came back with a pump and pumped my tyre up, so I rode down to the fishing pier to have a look round.

Lobitos pier

The flat tyre had delayed me so I decided to have some lunch, then go back for a siesta, but when I got up I discovered the tyre was again flat, so was more serious than just losing air, though couldn't detect any nails or other reason for it. Nacho, the owner of the hostel, told me there was a tyre repair guy not far away and he would take me there if I followed his car - and took off at a fast speed, with me trying to keep up riding on a rear flat! The tyre man wasn't there, but we left the bike with his wife, who said he would be back later - so we returned around 6.00 to find the place completely shut up and no-one responding to our shouts! We had no choice but to leave it till the following day, Sunday.

When I had arrived I mentioned I was interested in doing some fishing and Nacho told me if I wanted he could arrange a trip out Sunday morning with a local fishing boat!! Was I interested? I was ecstatic! Early Sunday morning the captain arrived in a mototaxi and we headed to the pier, where he got a lift out to his boat and brought it alongside -

This was to be our boat

Soon land was far behind us!

We anchored over a reef and started fishing, using mackerel chunks for bait and soon were pulling in fish with every line we dropped - I had a cheap telescopic rod I carried in my rucksack (though I also had a 6 piece beach rod back at the hostel), and it proved to be well up to the task. There were three of us fishing - the captain and mate, as well as me - and the fish were biting well. I have no idea what any of them were, though!

Soon the box was filling with fish!

The sea was much rougher than it looked from the shore, but being on deck and seeing the horizon meant I was not having any problems - that is until I snapped my line on a snag and had to attach new tackle! Looking down instead of at the horizon I soon started feeling queasy with the motion, and spent the rest of the trip alternating between fishing and heaving over the side - and when the captain offered to make fresh ceviche with some of the catch I politely declined, though I did take some fish back for the hostel owners.

Seals on an old gas platform

The seas around Lobitos are full of oil and gas platforms, some abandoned, but some still operational though unmanned, however all of them have resident seals taking advantage of a safe sleeping place! We passed by a few on the way back to shore, which was a nice end to a wonderful outing - despite the sea-sickness!

I eventually only got my bike back late Sunday, and never did find out exactly what the problem was as the guy had been and gone again (apparently he works in Talara, so spends much of his time dealing with tyre emergencies there), but the tyre gave no more problems the rest of the journey home.

Sunday night I had one of Nacho's famous pizzas, and I can vouch for the fact that it was possibly the best one I have ever eaten!

Monday morning I set off for Piura, the next stop on my trip home - I have stayed in Piura 4 times now, in the same hotel, which is conveniently located not far off the Panamerican Highway, but also close to the centre of Piura and good eating places. My stay in Lobitos was extremely pleasant, and the fact that I went to the wrong hostel was instrumental in the opportunity to fish from a small boat in the Pacific Ocean!