As we leave the ship, we circle around the upper end of a large bay and connect with the Pan American Highway again.
We were on the Pan American Highway in Salaverry. This is the highway that runs from Northern Alaska to Southern Argentina. We passed under the bridge going through the Canal several days ago. We have actually driven sections of it in Canada and Alaska...it looks like a super highway up there compared to what we are traveling today. We are still in the, dry, monochromatic landscape of Peru. Despite how bad this may look to us, it gets worse, we are told, as one heads south into the driest desert in the world, the Altacama Desert, across the border in northern Chile.
We drive for over an hour to get to the town/city of Inca. This appears to be an agricultural area, using the water from one or more rivers coming down out of the Andes to irrigate the fields.
Ica is a depressing conglomeration of shanties, unfinished two story buildings, trash and traffic congestion.
At one point we cross a channelized river into which we see people dumping refuse. Its water is used to irrigate the fields and otherwise support the population of the area, When the occasional rain does come all this filth will be washed into the sea! The guide tells us they have about 2 inches of rain a year! I guess when you are living hand to mouth, there is no time and no resources to devote to environmental concerns; even ones so simple as collecting the trash!
After driving through Ica, we arrive at El Catador and are given a tour of the production facilities and see a corner of their vineyard. Several workers greet us with a smile and the hoist of a glass of raw Pisco.
That must improve their productive efficiency! This family owned and run facility has been in business since the 1850s and our host, Enrique is the 6th generation.
This is a truly small batch producer. They use open air, concrete vats to crush the grapes and, we are told, the grapes are stomped by foot and by a massive, primitive, screw-drive, press, of which the center post is a 150 year old tree trunck.
We can only hope they wash the tanks out before their annual use in March and April. The Pisco is produced in a massive, 1,500 liter, buried pot still. The grape juice, which has been fermenting in clay jars, some of which are over 100 years old, is poured in, one 35 liter, clay jar at a time, and then a fire is lit. The pot still is sealed with corn husks and clay and the steam is funneled through a copper condensing coil, submerged in water, to collect the distilled Pisco.
Enrique worked in Southern California and got the idea for infusing his Pisco with the essence of lemons. When they do this, they suspend a 250lb. basket of uncut lemons in the pot still above the fermented grapes. The heat extracts and adds the lemon essence to the steam and when condensed you have Pisco Citrone. This brew is 90 proof and, when mixed with a little honey, makes a marvelous cough syrup. They also produce Pisco Creme. While we are not given a detailed description of its production technique, it has a very pleasant taste and would go wonderfully in coffee. Think about a variation on Bailey’s Irish Cream and you will have the idea.
We leave El Catador and drive a short distance to Vista Alegre, owned by an Italian family that settled in the area and started the vineyard in the 1850's. It takes some horn blowing and vigorous discussion to get the guard to open the gates for us and he holds onto the driver’s ID while we are inside the walls of the estate. Everyone is very security conscious. This must date back to the terrorist problems of the 1980s and early 1990s.
Vista Alegre is an unimpressive, commercial operations and not nearly as interesting as El Catador or even the commercial wineries we saw in Mendoza, Argentina in 2008.
Finished here, we begin our slow, hour plus drive back to the ship where we arrive about 1:30PM. The bus has a speed governor on it, but the driver regularly ignores this annoying beep. He also drives for long streches on the wrong side of the road trying to pass slower moving traffic such as a fuel truck! A time or two we think we are going to be mated with the on coming truck or bus all to the music of blaring horns!!
The dust in the air and on everything is suffocating. Carolyn has a full blown asthma attack in progress by the time we get back.
We are really exhausted! Cleaned up, we head to dinner as soon as the dinning room opens. A little wine and a good meal improves our attitude and we go back to the room and are in bed by 8:30.
Did any of your shipmates do the Nazca Lines?
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