We refresh our supplies, I have our air filter cleaned as a precaution, and off we go. We leave Nazca and the pyramid to the north and see the lines from the ground.
It is very difficult to somehow recognize that these are geoglyphs.
In the small town of San José, half an hour from Nazca, we see a dilapidated church.
We suspect that the building fell victim to an earthquake.
After that there are more geoglyphs to see. In front of the town of Palpa, the people of yore have carved interesting comics on the dry slopes of the hills.
They are similar to the Nazca Lines, but are carved on the walls of hills and are not as large.
Thanks to a tip from a tourist guide I spoke to at the airport, we bypassed a construction site on a bridge in Palpa, got through the city quickly and avoided the roadblock.
Then it goes up the mountain again and suddenly my fear comes true: the temperature is already high again! I stop the car and take a look. The cooling water flows out of the engine. A hose is loose and the water whistles and flows out. Why again? It is now six days since we left Arequipa, we only had rest for six days. The engine has to cool down, of course Leon is awake too, so we make him food. Then a police car pulls up next to us and the officer asks us if everything is ok. I explain our problem and the two police officers offer to help. I quickly top up the cooling system with water, the police block traffic for us and follow us back down the valley to escort us to a workshop and tow us if we break down on the way there. Nice cops. But now we have to stand in the traffic jam of the roadblock, which I was able to avoid earlier.
The cops take us to a mechanic and say goodbye. The mechanic looks at everything and works on the car for three hours just to replace an old clamp on the hose. The man is very taciturn and seems to me as if he doesn’t have many friends besides his cats and screws.
It’s four o’clock in the afternoon, five hours after our breakdown, when we are back on the road and reach our destination of the day or night, Huacachina, only after dark, where we spend the night in a guarded parking lot of a bar.