So much to write, I don't know where we start. But start we must......

After a month and a bit of playing, (can't call it working because its been too much fun for that) at Alto Trujillo Escuela, I decided to take a break in and get my butt around Peru. We headed north to a place called Pacasmayo, where the second longest left hand wave has been known to show its self rather consistently. On my limited travels, I've found that there are two times of visitors to Peru the ones who hit the big sites (which I intend on doing soon) and those who come seeking adventure, olas, swells and lifetime rides. There travels take them on two contrasting trips. This trip was the later, as usually the waves are in locations where there is not allot else but the wave. If there is a town, the town is a place where gringos are exetremely scarce. The clue is, when you walk around the streets people film you, ask for photographs with you and just generally want to talk to you because you are not the norm. Pacasmayo fits into this category. It was once a bussling fishing town, but due to the ever depleting fish numbers, there are many buildings on the main drag that remind me of a war stricten structures in Cambodia. But in stark contrast, the building next door will have tapped into the surf market and be bussling with the viby life of surfers still glowing with the energy of the waves they caught that day. The olas were muy baco on our arrival day, so we quickly tapped into the local knowledge and sourced a ride to a secret spot about 40 minutes away. There were two ways there. The first was along the beach at low tide on a "tok tok". The only problem here was not knowing how to return when the tide was high. Hence we opted for the second route down a dirty track, round the sand dunes and through the desert for about 30 minutes. So at about 5 in the morning before sun rise, we found ourselves looking out over a break infront of some rocks. Behind us there was a small fishing village, we think, as there was only one fishing boat and a couple of tortoras. We watched the sun rise, performed a small ritual for the "olas dios" and then braved the raging seas. After a cheeky run with a big white foamy and a rock, we found ourselves in the big blue sharing the waves with the herons and wind. It was a special morning and the rides, while not the best were definitely the most challenging of the trip. Yes I will not forget our trip to Poemape.