Trujillo, Peru

Trujillo itself offers nothing in general but everything in particular. The strange cravings we´ve accumulated over the past few months have been satisfied by a handful of hosts in a variety of settings. Lucho, first and foremost, has provided us with a semblance of home. Disbelievers will be convinced of the existence of altruism after staying at the Casa de Ciclistas, but as products of our respective societies, something inside of us was uncomfortable with receiving something for nothing. After a few days of pampering, we got the urge to upset his non-reciprocal policy with an installation on the rooftop terrace that would serve as an enduring gift for the Casa de Ciclistas.

Later that evening, the downstairs came alive, not with paint, but with music. The Dutch bassist teamed up with a Nepalese guitarist and a Peruvian drummer to create the ¨Most Diverse and the Best Bicycle Band in the World,¨ or so it seemed. Guest artists included two Dakotan percussionists and a Seattleite harpist. The record contract is still pending.

Peeling ourselves out of bed the next morning, we hobbled over to Café Alemán where our resident German chef prepared his usual recipe for rejuvinating our post-party aches: Bernd´s Bicycle Burger. Without a doubt, this magical recipe was the key to our recovery, as well as one of the magnets that kept us in Trujillo. Each time we stuffed ourselves and made to hobble onward, he grudgingly calculated a bill, which he then square rooted. If it was within his means, he would have gladly sponsored our visits, but knowing the reality of the situation, we cubed his requests in a game of mathematical jousting.

The days at the Casa de Ciclistas slowly accumulated as the wealth of compelling events carried on. On our last day, as we often projected, Trujillo celebrated its annual festival with an internationally themed parade. As vertically endowed gringos, we enjoyed unobstructed views from the back row, watching tractor-drawn floats flaunt beauty queens from Latin America and stilted clowns dance with costumed tamales as the various marching bands kept time. Our culture-meters peaked in Trujillo, given the authenticity of our interactions and the hospitality of our hosts.