Sometimes people are stupid. Sometimes Mez and I leave our jackets on the bus and don`t realise for hours and have no way of retreiving them - so long jacket, you served me well.

So after our cheap trip to the lines, we returned to Nazca, picked up our stuff and found ourselves on the same bus passing the same way to Ica. Our initial intention had been to stay in Ica, but after many pieces of advice from fellow travellers we decided that Huacachina was the place to be.

An oasis in the desert, a backpackers haven, a little piece of paradise away from the hustle and bustle of the city life. In real terms, over priced food, annoying tauts and the feeling that you are getting ripped off or conned even when trying to get a hostel room.

We eventually found a three bed room for a total of 50 soles, which didn´t seem to bad, although the women that helped us probably got a cut of that, although we still aren`t sure how. Can`t remember the name of the hostel, but it was right next to desert nights, which seems to be the place to be.

So arriving at 14.30 in the afternoon, after losing our jackets, we went in search of food. We ended up eating in the restaurant attached to our hostel, although we weren`t aware of it at the time, due to the endless entrances to the place. I can only advise not to eat there. Slow and confused service was the best quality. The worst being the raw chicken that I found in my chicken fried rice. Discount please!! Luckily no real problems occured after eating that.

Now there is only one thing to do here. Going in a sand buggy and sandboarding down the dunes. This cost us 30 soles each, plus the random 3.65 soles government tax. I recommend this highly. An immense amount of fun will occur if you just let yourself go. I did something similar in New Zealand a life time ago, but it didn`t compare to this.

Lying down flat on your belly on a newly waxed board, seeing the steep mountain of sand falling around you, knowing that as soon as the driver lets go there will only be one way, and that way is down. The adrenaline hits you like the sand in your face as you speed towards the bottom. Words don`t describe the fun. Nor the horrid taste of sand in the mouth if you try and scream - hint, don`t open your mouth.

We did this four or five times, each one slightly different, but equally as much fun. Different grades of steepness, or different varying speeds, one involved a steep decline, followed quickly by a flat part, and yet another decline, which although you are fully aware it is coming, your just not quite ready for.

The driver we had made our journey much better. As we watched the sunset over the sand dunes we joked and laughed, mainly at the expense of the American girl who had lost her shorts half way down one of the dunes. I laughed, but so glad that it hadn`t been me. Also the driver, in the buggy went faster when we asked, and made the journey to and from the dunes feel more like a roller coaster ride than a simple car journey - he deserved the tip that we generously gave him.

This all happened on the day we arrived in the small oasis just outside of Ica. Dinner, early night and the next back to the centre of the Ica where with our back packs we ventured to the local museum. This was interesting but don`t pay the extra money to use your camera, there isn`t anything that interesting to take pictures of apart from the reconstruction of the Nazca lines which are present outside the back. Here no one can see you take pictures so we snapped away and saved ourselves the 5 extra soles.

Another bus journey this time to Lima, where we find ourselves in the expansive capital of Peru.