The crazy men and crazy scam in Nazca, Peru

Okay, so we arrived to Nazca after a 16 hour bus ride. It was quite miserable being in a crammed space for that long, and I am going to do my best to avoid another bus ride in such a journey during my stay in South America. We (me and my new Canadian friend) got off the bus, and we were bombarded by people who wanted to drive us directly to the airport to take a ride in the airplane. I must admit that Peruvian people are the most determined salespeople on the planet. Just forewarning, if you are white, they almost always assume you are a Western tourist on vacation who wants to buy more souvenirs.

In addition to my Canadian friend, I met an Englishman. He decided to join us for the day. He had a background in being self-employed for private security. He obviously had a military background and was not your typical rent-a-cop. My Canadian friend is semi-fluent in Spanish, and so we let him negotiate with the mob of Peruvians seeking some sort of commission for getting us to the airport. We were greeted by one interesting individual named Heyzeus (probably spelled like Jesus in Spanish I would guess) in whom at this point I still believe is full of it, but anyway, all three of us rode in his Path Finder to the airport. It was a small airport with one building with your basic waiting area and two bathrooms. The airstrip was covered only by small planes (for 4 to 8 people), meant to fly with tourists in order to see the Nazca Lines. Heyzeus represented one of the several companies who would willingly take your money for a flight. He said we were free to investigate any of the companies, and if we did not want to fly with his company, we would just compensate him for the ride from the bus station. I still don’t know why, but we went along with his company because he “seemed so nice.”

Heyzeus said we could keep our luggage and backpacks at his friend’s hostel, which just happened to be named Amigo’s House (aka Friend’s House). He told us the hostel was mentioned in Lonely Planet, which I still don’t believe.

Anyway, he offered to take us to three tourist locations (a graveyard, a gold business, and a ceramics business). What he did not mention was that the gold and ceramics business were free to the public to watch the demonstrations. He wanted to charge us fifty sols, which is about seventeen U. S. dollars. If I had ever met a better con artist, he now had the new title as the best one I had ever met. Heyzeus also mentioned some pyramids in the desert; he acted like they were similar to the pyramids found in Egypt. We were fascinated and wanted to see these newly found Incan pyramids. What he failed to mention was that this 23 square kilometer ceremonial center was now covered by millions of pounds of sand. Therefore, you could not see much of the pyramids beyond what the archeologists had already uncovered. He wanted sixty sols (combining for a total of 180 sols with the three of us) to take us out there. After hearing his grand and over-exaggerated explanation, we were more than willing to take the adventure out there.

Heyzeus had a friend named Freddie (probably just a nickname because tourists could not correctly pronounce his real name) who was going to take us out to the pyramids in his grand and mighty Nissan truck. I can still hear him in my head saying, “This is cuatro by cuatro, my friend,” meaning four wheel drive. Again, what he and Heyzeus failed to mention was that the truck had a nearly flat tire and that Freddie was a slower driver than my Grandmother.

We eagerly jumped into the truck only to have Freddie stop three different times at three different gas stations to check the air pressure in the almost flat tire. I wondered if this wonderful machine would actually make it through the desert or leave us stranded under the blazing sun. We finally got to the road that you drive out to the pyramids on. A couple of cars passed us. Now keep in mind this is supposedly a grand, multi-terrain vehicle, and little Daewoo taxis are flying by us on the dirt, bumpy road. Freddie even mentioned, “That guy is so crazy. That guy is so crazy,” referring to the taxi cab driving who left us in the dust. I thought Freddie was crazy for only driving fifteen miles an hour. I know he was worried about the tire, being careful, but the trip took us about three and a half hours to complete the round trip to get back to the airport for our flight over the Nasca Lines. Being a desert, it was naturally extremely hot, and of course, the air conditioning in the truck was broken. Freddie had also mentioned that he would change the tire in three minutes if it needed to be changed. I was beginning to wonder if he was from another planet. He kept calling me “James Bond, 007.” While driving, the key fell into the floor out of the ignition several times, but the truck kept running. I was really hoping this truck with a vivid personality did not leave us walking back in the desert heat.

We thankfully did not get stuck in the desert, and the great pyramids were not really pyramids at all. They were more like big book shelves in the sand. When Freddie tried to give us some background information on them, he said four or five facts over and over and over again, as if he was a college professor in archeology. We were not even allowed to walk up close to the pyramids because much of the terrain was blocked off for the archeological process. Of course, I ran up closer anyway to take some much desired and now costly pictures. Then the equivalent of what you might consider to have the role of a U. S. forest ranger started running up the hills to where I had climbed, screaming and waving his hands. He was really just an old man with flip flop sandals, not exactly what you would think of for protection of sacred pyramids.

It was clear that we were ripped off with no chance of getting our money back. You might say it was worth it to have such a ridiculous story to tell, but I must say that I was a little angry and frustrated. I expressed such feelings to Heyzeus, but he naturally did not care much because I was a tourist and he had our money already.
We went to the airport, shuttled in by our Hummer-like wonder of a vehicle, to take our flight into the sky to see the Nazca Lines. Now I must admit that the Nazca Lines were incredible, but I was somewhat nauseous getting off the plane when we landed because the pilot was swinging from side to side so we could look out the side of the plane to actually see the lines. I felt like were in an air show with trick planes doing stunts through the blue skyline.

By that point, I had my fill of Nazca. In other words, I was ready to leave already. I was tired from an overnight bus ride and being scammed by tourist con artists. I was ready to take the next bus ride to Ica to move on and get a good night’s rest at our hotel, which was located in the middle of a natural oasis in the desert within close proximity to the city of Ica. Nevertheless, we went to the gold and ceramic stores to watch the demonstrations of how these crafts were handmade. It was interesting; I was just not too interested because of my exhausted state of mind. Afterwards, we got on the bus, and that was my crazy day with some crazy people from Ica.

Below you will find a recording of Freddie and my mates in the truck on the way out to the pyramids. After hearing Freddie speak and laugh, you may understand the observations I have written about concerning his unique behaviors, laugh, and way of speaking.

CLICK here for the pure definition of craziness!