To go to Ventanilla, we got up very early, and walked over to Claudia’s house (Michael’s German colleague, who also lives in San Miguel). There we got on the small bus that was going to take the three of us and the visiting participants of the Incofish project; A Swedish woman working in the Philippines, an Estonian, an Englishman from Aberdeen, people from Senegal, Ecuador and the US.
First, we picked the people up in Miraflores. Then we drove Northwards again along the coast, through San Miguel and Callao past the airport and finally we entered la Ventanilla. I still have to get used to that whereas in Sweden a half an hour drive would take me from one city to the next crossing vast fields with nothing but cows, rape and sugar beets, in Lima you’re still on the same street – the arteries of Lima are really long and take you from shacks by the beach past colonial mansions and lush parks, huge shopping centres, universities, middle-class flats and banks back to low-rise residential areas and popular markets, all included in a bus ride for 1 sol!
La Ventanilla used to be the granary of Lima, as I understood it, but now the crop fields have at least partly given way to areas with huge warehouses housing, among others, the fish market. The bus pulled up in a make-shift sandy parking lot between two warehouses stretching out into the distance. One of them was blue, and a big sign with a fish outline said:
MMP
Mercado Mayorista Pesquero
El primer Terminal Pesquero del Perú
¡Mas Variedad a los precios Más Bajos¡
Terminal Pesquero de Ventanilla
Callao – Perú
In brief: Peru’s first retail fish market with more variety at low prices.
Between the mostly old and dusty cars, children played, dogs ran about, people sat and talked and some vendors were trying to tempt with drinks and food – for example, camote (sweet potato), platano (banana) and chicken’s feet straight from the barbeque!
After I inspected the sanitary facilities (which, to my relief, were very clean), we all entered the gates of the fish market. Our dress-down-you-will-get-fish-all-over-you, camera-in-hand, tousled tourists-on-group-excursion appearance, we immediately caught the attention of everyone in the market. A man and a woman sporting the same blue shirts as all the other people working at the fish market offered to assist us, and Claudia told them who we were and why we were there. They then took us through the market slowly, and the Incofish people looked for some fish to buy.
I was amazed at how well organised and fresh the market looked. Apparently the market opens some time around five, and we only arrived just after 9, so by then rush our had passed, but there were still a lot of market workers running around with crates of squid and what not. People followed our every move, and came up to ask about our cameras, point out a particular fish, claim that we should have to buy fish to be allowed to take pictures (jokingly)...one woman took it upon herself to show us all the varieties of fish sold at the market - she kept grabbing a fish from one of the stands and holding it up for scrutiny and photos, shouting the name of the fish repeatedly.
After having marvelled at the fresh water fish with their whiskers, the calamares and green algae (delicious in batter), moon fish, squid, crabs, prawns, sea cucumber, mussels, abalon and other molluscs, the incofish bought their fish, and Michael got a bag of Coquilles St Jaques, complete with shell, for us, and we left the market. Outside we bought some breakfast: grilled camote and platano.
The bus dropped the incofish people off at Imarpe in La Punta, and then took us home, where we cooked a delicious lunch with Michael's outstanding conchitas a la parmesana - St Jaques mussels in their shell with a sauce of lime and butter, with parmesan sprinkled on top, grilled in the oven....mmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmm
That's the kind of morning I could get used to!
