Descending out of the Andes I landed on the Peruvian coastal desert stretching nearly a 1000 miles in either direction bisected by the black ribbon of the Pan-American highway.
Depending on who you ask I am either in the Sechura Desert, the Atacama Desert, or the desert has no name . . . either way it is dry.
A little farther south, officially the Atacama Desert, it is the driest desert in the world. Some rivers have been dry for 120,000 years and places have not seen a drop of rain in 500 years. However, four of Peru's largest cities are on this coast and civilizations have resided here for over 5000 years, like the Nazca, where I am now. I stopped at a lookout tower beside the highway and paid two soles to see two of the smaller figures associated with the Nazca culture
The narrow strip of sand is hemmed in by the Andes to the East and the Pacific to the west with a large aquifer underneath courtesy of the Andes. However, rising sea levels threaten the aquifer with salt water intrusion. The coastal fishery is one of the richest in the world and hosts phenomenal biodiversity (incl. penguins!) enriched by the cold Humboldt current - which means lots of cheap ceviche!
Tap into the aquifer and you get the largest asparagus fields I have ever seen or vineyards stretching for kilometers. Land with water is not cheap either. Land sells for $5000/hectare (2.5 acres) or more with water in the form of a well or aqueduct. But if you really want land . . .
You can squat on vacant government owned land for 10 years and receive title. They are called pueblos jovenes (young towns) perched beside the Pan-American highway with no water, no electricity, no services. Lots are demarcated with rocks painted white or dead cactus and a hope that the town will grow and someday receive services - but for the moment water comes from a shallow plastic lined hole that people walk to and fill buckets. Given some time they may look like this - the houses are made of woven reed mats.
Despite being at sea level close to the equator in a desert the temperatures are not too hot (it is not Central America) and the nights are cool. A continuous cool wind comes off the Pacific Ocean sweeping up the Andes . . . as long as I am not riding directly into the wind it is not too frustrating. Generally, within every couple hours of riding there are roadside stands to buy something to drink, snacks, and fresh fruit.
And people are friendly and curious to talk with the cyclist or just climb on his bike.
Descending out of the Andes I landed on the Peruvian coastal desert stretching nearly a 1000 miles in either direction bisected by the black ribbon of the Pan-American highway.
Depending on who you ask I am either in the Sechura Desert, the Atacama Desert, or the desert has no name . . . either way it is dry.
A little farther south, officially the Atacama Desert, it is the driest desert in the world. Some rivers have been dry for 120,000 years and places have not seen a drop of rain in 500 years. However, four of Peru's largest cities are on this coast and civilizations have resided here for over 5000 years, like the Nazca, where I am now. I stopped at a lookout tower beside the highway and paid two soles to see two of the smaller figures associated with the Nazca culture
The narrow strip of sand is hemmed in by the Andes to the East and the Pacific to the west with a large aquifer underneath courtesy of the Andes. However, rising sea levels threaten the aquifer with salt water intrusion. The coastal fishery is one of the richest in the world and hosts phenomenal biodiversity (incl. penguins!) enriched by the cold Humboldt current - which means lots of cheap ceviche!
Tap into the aquifer and you get the largest asparagus fields I have ever seen or vineyards stretching for kilometers. Land with water is not cheap either. Land sells for $5000/hectare (2.5 acres) or more with water in the form of a well or aqueduct. But if you really want land . . . 
You can squat on vacant government owned land for 10 years and receive title. They are called pueblos jovenes (young towns) perched beside the Pan-American highway with no water, no electricity, no services. Lots are demarcated with rocks painted white or dead cactus and a hope that the town will grow and someday receive services - but for the moment water comes from a shallow plastic lined hole that people walk to and fill buckets. Given some time they may look like this - the houses are made of woven reed mats.
Despite being at sea level close to the equator in a desert the temperatures are not too hot (it is not Central America) and the nights are cool. A continuous cool wind comes off the Pacific Ocean sweeping up the Andes . . . as long as I am not riding directly into the wind it is not too frustrating. Generally, within every couple hours of riding there are roadside stands to buy something to drink, snacks, and fresh fruit.
And people are friendly and curious to talk with the cyclist or just climb on his bike.
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