Hello from Tumbes Peru, 

My last postcard from Cuenca Ecuador got us across the border as far as Tumbes Peru where I hoped to catch a flight down to Lima. The border is a study in contrasts. On the Ecuadorian side is the busy little shopping village of Huaquillas and just across the border in Peru there is little but a transport assembly area. Packed into a minibus with fifteen other people the trip from the border took about fifteen minutes and cost $1.50. Compared to the frantic shopping activity in on the Ecuadorian side, Tumbes seems quiet and provincial. Money changers swarmed around us as we piled out of the little bus at one end of the major pedestrian mall. Desperate for some local currency I searched for a compatible ATM. None I found during that initial search liked my credit card. Undaunted, I began asking locals for hotel recommendations. An officer sitting in front of a military building on the Plaza de Armas insisted everyone considered the Hostal Roma at one corner of the plaza the best in town. At $18 it no doubt would be considered a good value by many travelers. However, it didn't even pass my barely acceptable rating. The friendly receptionist, however pointed me to another place down the street when I sputtered "Yo querra mucho mas bueno hotel."  

The $50 Hotel Costa del Sol Tumbes is "mucho mas bueno" and they had just one room left that night... on the painful third floor. Ascending and descending those four flights of stairs produced enough pain to serve as adequate penance for untold past sins. When I discovered I'd need to layover a second night I begged for and got a first floor room... one designed to accommodate the handicapped at that! What a pleasure; no stairs to climb, larger, more luxurious and newly renovated with stainless steel handrails. It pays to hobble with a little exaggeration. The experience sharpened my appreciation of the problems faced by permanently handicapped people. Everywhere I've been in South America I see plastic lined trash cans sitting next to toilets. I see them in public facilities and I see them in upscale hotel rooms like this one. The idea is that toilet tissue after use is to be put there rather than flushed down to toilet. 

The small commercial district is clustered around the central Plaza de Armas. The usual cathedral sits on one side. A beautiful sculptured amphitheater, complete with artistic mosaic decorations dominates another. One of the pedestrian malls leads off the plaza's northern boundary street. A whole company of mosaic artists must have spent a year working in Tumbes because a half dozen more interesting structures and sculptures covered with mosaic decorations grace the mall. While walking still is painful I did make a few exploratory forays around town, though sitting in the hotel's business center and using the Internet terminal provided many welcome lengthy respites. Descending stairs is a discouraging experience. A friend pointed out the old adage: "Up with the good and down with the bad." That really works and chanting the mantra at every new incline avoided some unnecessary pain. 

Tumbes Airport is located a few kilometers north of the city in an otherwise barren plain. A dirt road connects the simple passenger lounge with the asphalt road into town. Warned the airline overbooks and assigns seats to the first who arrive, the agent suggested I be there at least two hours ahead of the departure time of 18:20. I arrived three hours early and found the place deserted except for four security guys anxious to demonstrate their thoroughness. During my extended pre-flight baggage search Hector arrived and witnessed the confiscation of six dangerous items they found in my bag: a large safety pin, 2 small nail clippers, a toe nail clipper, my blunt cuticle scissors and a pair of tweezers.  

My loud protests in unintelligible Spanish and the increasingly agitated responses from the security team attracted Hector's attention and he offered to interpret for me. "Everything will be returned when we get to Lima." he translated. I've heard that one before and asked for particulars; "Let's see the actual package I should be looking for." With the lobby filling up fast we watched as an airline agent disappeared to find the package. Ten minutes later he returned with a tagged white envelop and a matching claim slip. Frankly, past experience does not encourage me to be very hopeful I'll ever see my little treasures, but I'll be in Lima soon and we shall see. 

Photos taken while in Tumbes are here. 

Peace,
Fred Bellomy 

PS: While searching for information about travelers diarrhea I came across the Third World Traveler website which presents links to sites that offer alternative views to those disseminated by the corporate media.