The immensity of the desert landscape was overwhelming. The silence was palpable. It felt like eternal stretches of sandy lands were passing under the wheels of the van and we could barely stay awake with the monotonous view. Then, the magic started. The road began to traverse green and dry areas alternately, as if the land was painted in green and yellow stripes between the coast line and the Andes Mountains. And this is exactly what is was. The mountains run parallel to the coast line and wherever there is a river finding its way to the ocean, there will be a green valley, and of course, a village.
The contrast of colors was powerful. Trees, plants, fruits, kids, markets, noise, people wearing flashy colors, horses, colorful houses, trucks, smells…Then a few seconds later, silence. Greys, yellows, dunes, hills and the naked rocky spine of mountains. The tiniest speck of color in the bleak landscape stuck out dramatically.
Arriving in Pacasmayo, the first thing I did was check the set up. The wave was way longer than I had imagined; the distance from the point where it starts to brake to the pier is over 1,000 m. From land surf always look smaller, but I could already see lines perfectly aligned and parallel all the way to the horizon. The beach was long with sandy cliffs, like a desert, and the long pier perched in the middle of the bay with a cluster of little fishing boats group in front. The air was kind of foggy and the scenery was pleasant. I was searching my memories for similar places, but I couldn’t find any in my personal ‘hard disk’.