There are several ways of crossing the border from Ecuador into Peru, most of which can be accessed via Loja. When we arrived at the bus station, we were presented with two options: (1) we could take a bus directly to Piura, a town several hours south of the border and slightly inland; or (2) we could take a different bus to the coastal border crossing at Huaquillas, take a taxi across the border, and catch another bus on the other side.
Option 1 meant the bus would wait for us to take care of our border paperwork, but it would put us a few hours south of where we were headed (Mancora, a small surfing and party town), and we`d need to backtrack. Option 2, according to our guidebook, is considered ¨the most dangerous border crossing in South America,¨ due to the likelihood of encountering ¨shady business¨ in the Peruvian border town of Aguas Verdes.
We took the (cheaper) 6 hour bus to Huaquillas, determined to avoid Aguas Verdes.
About five minutes before the bus stopped in Huaquillas, a closer look at Mr. Planet told us that Huaquillas and Aguas Verdes are actually the same city. And so we arrived, after dark, with no lodging and no real plan, in this incredibly dangerous city.
The employee at the first hostal we entered told us that all the hostals were full in the city that night, except for one (how he knew this, I have no idea). When we asked if there were a special event going on, he told us that there was a party in the city, which would last until September 8th. It was August 27th.
We checked in, got some food, and fretted about the next day`s border crossing. However, the first part, which involved taking a taxi to the northern part of the city and getting our Ecuadorian exit stamp, then taking a taxi to the southern part of the city and walking across a bridge into the Peruvian part of town, went smoothly. It was only after we´d gotten a colectivo (shared taxi, only this one wasn´t shared), gotten our Peruvian entry stamp, and were being driven along a desolate road to Tumbes, that we got into trouble.
There were two guys about Scott´s age who were driving the car (ok, only one of them was driving), and up to that point, they´d been amiable and chatty, and Scott and I were having fun practicing our Spanish. However, that all changed rather abruptly when the one in the passenger seat turned to face us and - with practiced nonchalance - informed us they´d be expectingt $20 per person as payment. This, of course, came after Scott and I had agreed to the $1.50 per person, which Mr. Planet had told us to expect. In fact, the book said something along the lines of ¨the crossing should cross $1.50 in a colectivo, beware of overcharging.¨ And here we were, being overcharged.
I was angry. And somehow, to the great surprise of everyone in the car, my Spanish skills increased commensurately with my anger. I told him paying $20 per person was ridiculous. I told him that in the book we had been warned about dangers such as these. I told him we´d agreed on a price, and that now he was backing out of a contract we´d already entered into. To his argument that gas prices were high, I actually told him it was his own problem, and he should have thought of that before agreeing to $1.50, to which he responded bitingly that if he´d known we´d be such terrible passengers, they wouldn´t have taken us in the first place.
We arrived in Tumbes at a bitter stalemate. For the better part of 30 minutes, the four of us sat, enduring periods of silence alternating with heated debate between the passenger and me, while Scott and the driver waited uncomfortably. Finally, Scott jumped in, and suggested a compromise, which, eventually, was taken. However, it didn´t exactly leave us with the best first impression of Peru.
We arrived later that day in Mancora (after having to be fingerprinted to ride the bus...), which is almost exactly the same place as Montañita.
Option 1 meant the bus would wait for us to take care of our border paperwork, but it would put us a few hours south of where we were headed (Mancora, a small surfing and party town), and we`d need to backtrack. Option 2, according to our guidebook, is considered ¨the most dangerous border crossing in South America,¨ due to the likelihood of encountering ¨shady business¨ in the Peruvian border town of Aguas Verdes.
We took the (cheaper) 6 hour bus to Huaquillas, determined to avoid Aguas Verdes.
About five minutes before the bus stopped in Huaquillas, a closer look at Mr. Planet told us that Huaquillas and Aguas Verdes are actually the same city. And so we arrived, after dark, with no lodging and no real plan, in this incredibly dangerous city.
The employee at the first hostal we entered told us that all the hostals were full in the city that night, except for one (how he knew this, I have no idea). When we asked if there were a special event going on, he told us that there was a party in the city, which would last until September 8th. It was August 27th.
We checked in, got some food, and fretted about the next day`s border crossing. However, the first part, which involved taking a taxi to the northern part of the city and getting our Ecuadorian exit stamp, then taking a taxi to the southern part of the city and walking across a bridge into the Peruvian part of town, went smoothly. It was only after we´d gotten a colectivo (shared taxi, only this one wasn´t shared), gotten our Peruvian entry stamp, and were being driven along a desolate road to Tumbes, that we got into trouble.
There were two guys about Scott´s age who were driving the car (ok, only one of them was driving), and up to that point, they´d been amiable and chatty, and Scott and I were having fun practicing our Spanish. However, that all changed rather abruptly when the one in the passenger seat turned to face us and - with practiced nonchalance - informed us they´d be expectingt $20 per person as payment. This, of course, came after Scott and I had agreed to the $1.50 per person, which Mr. Planet had told us to expect. In fact, the book said something along the lines of ¨the crossing should cross $1.50 in a colectivo, beware of overcharging.¨ And here we were, being overcharged.
I was angry. And somehow, to the great surprise of everyone in the car, my Spanish skills increased commensurately with my anger. I told him paying $20 per person was ridiculous. I told him that in the book we had been warned about dangers such as these. I told him we´d agreed on a price, and that now he was backing out of a contract we´d already entered into. To his argument that gas prices were high, I actually told him it was his own problem, and he should have thought of that before agreeing to $1.50, to which he responded bitingly that if he´d known we´d be such terrible passengers, they wouldn´t have taken us in the first place.
We arrived in Tumbes at a bitter stalemate. For the better part of 30 minutes, the four of us sat, enduring periods of silence alternating with heated debate between the passenger and me, while Scott and the driver waited uncomfortably. Finally, Scott jumped in, and suggested a compromise, which, eventually, was taken. However, it didn´t exactly leave us with the best first impression of Peru.
We arrived later that day in Mancora (after having to be fingerprinted to ride the bus...), which is almost exactly the same place as Montañita.
Like your blog. Yes, it's so dangerous down there, but I was going the opposite way. I almost kidnapped from Tumbes headed up to the Ecuadorean border. I think you might relate to the story.
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