"I can not believe that you've convinced me to do this," Mirla tells me as we climb with a lot of effort one of the sand dunes that surround the oasis of Huacachina. "I'll be back soon," I reply, trying to comfort both her and me. But it is not short. Each time we brake to catch our breath, I count the footprints left in the sand: at most, we will have taken seven steps. We keep going up My feet sink to my ankles at every step, my heart beats fast and I feel the muscles in my legs explode. It is not easy walking on the sand, much less if that sand belongs to a dune, much less if that dune is part of a desert (and much less if you do not have a good physical condition). We walk ten steps and brake, walk another ten steps and brake again. I look up and it makes me envious to see that there are people who are already sitting on the top of the mountain of sand, ready to contemplate the sunset over the desert. Little is missing, just one more stretch. I do it running, I do not want to give my legs rest time, I do not even want to think that I'm tired. Finally we arrive and I throw myself face up in the sand.
I recover my breathing a little and look everywhere. From there we can see the city of Ica on one side and the oasis of Huacachina on the other. There are people doing sandboarding on the dune in front, some buggies hanging around, couples sitting on the sand and people still climbing. There is one who pushes his bicycle, crosses in front of us and continues towards another higher dune; later we see him going down: he makes the whole way back on his bike at full speed, with the wheels half sunken in the sand, as if he were going down a huge slope of butter. They are all like little ants in a huge sand desert. "From that dune above it looks better, are we still going up?" Asks one of the two. "No, that's it, let's stay here," the other responds.
As we look at the desert, I tell Mirla that once, four friends and I got lost in that same place. It was in 2008, when Huacachina was a place ... how to define it ... more empty. Someone had told us that there was another oasis, smaller than Huacachina, which was totally virgin and uninhabited. It only had one lagoon and trees with exotic fruits. We wanted to go and meet him. We stopped at the corner where the buggies went and we asked a driver to leave us as close as possible to that oasis. He approached us to a place, he told us that we had to cross a dune and that the oasis was going to be on the other side, and he left. He had taken us on a wave, without asking us for a sun in return, but he had to continue with his tour. We are left alone in the middle of nowhere. You could not see Ica or Huacachina, only dunes everywhere. We started walking, we managed to cross the dune that the driver had pointed out to us and we found ourselves ... more dunes. There was no oasis in sight. We started to worry. How were we going to get out of there? We were literally in the middle of the desert, without water, without food, without shelter. If the night was coming, man.
We walked for a while longer-I do not remember how much, in the desert the notion of time is lost-and we were still in the middle of nowhere. One of my friends began to cry of despair. We saw that a buggy was approaching from afar and we signaled it to brake. It had capacity for four people and three of its seats were occupied. We ask the driver to please bring us to Huacachina or Ica. "Well, I have them but they are 30 soles each" (something like 10 dollars per person). And it came out from inside: "Oh no! 30 soles or farts! " We were lost in the middle of the desert but we were still going to haggle our rescue. Finally he took us and I do not remember how much we paid, but 30 soles certainly not. He left us in one of the dunes that surrounds Huacachina and, as we were exhausted by that adventure, we were all five lying in the sand for at least an hour. One of the girls said: "The only thing that is missing so that this day is even more unreal, is that there are fireworks." Sure, fireworks in the middle of the desert.
We fell asleep, it was already night but it was not so cold. Suddenly we heard a "PUM" that came from afar. I thought someone had fired a gun. I hear one of my friends say: "I can not believe it! Look, look! " We look up and yes: fireworks of all colors enveloped the oasis. Later we learned that they came from a regional fair that was taking place in Ica, the city near Huacachina. It was a totally surreal day.
I finish telling Mirla the story and I tell her that this time Huacachina disappointed me a little. The place is much more tourist than before, everything is more expensive, they are all from the east. I do not like it, I feel that it lost the magic, that it is no longer a hidden place.
As it begins to refresh, we return to the oasis. The way back is very fast, we run down, jumping huge. The sand is soft, does not offer resistance and does not hurt. I feel like I'm walking on clouds, in my head the theme "Walking on the moon" by The Police sounds. I think that the dunes changed shape, they are not the same as in 2008. And I realize that after having lived "That Day" in the desert, there is nothing of Huacachina that could surprise me.
