Last Call in Lima

If I had known how much I would love the highlands of Peru, I would've planned my trip better.

I'd give myself just a day in Lima because I had to fly back and allowed myself at least one full week in Lima, maybe. Places like Arequipa or Puno could have been destinations, places that many, many people recommend.

No one recommends Lima. Not me, either.

Lima is a wholly different animal from Cusco and I knew from my stay near the airport in Callao that I probably wasn't going to enjoy it. Compared to the epic trek I undertook Lima was going to be anticlimactic.

I would be saying goodbye to people I had bonded with for a substantial amount of time. They had figured out that I resembled Zach Galifinakis aka "Allen" from "The Hangover" so now they named themselves as "my naked wolfpack." As soon as I got back to the Loki hostel in Cusco from Aguas Calientes, where I had the intention of staying in a cheap dorm, the man at the front desk says "your naked wolfpack awaits you." I would join their dorm. They were a fun group and we had a very substantial last night in the hostel's bar dancing to "Empire State of Mind" and eating finger foods. It was bittersweet to leave them but I had to make my way to Lima.

In terms of leaving to get back to the US I was full. Just like eating so much food would leave you full I was full in terms of my trip. It was time to get back to the United States, to Atlanta, to Georgia, where I had the goal of literally eating a Fat Elvis Burger at The Vortex.

Lima was my dessert. The dessert that I had to eat while I was full and that would tip me over. The dessert that was only ok, not great, and perhaps a bit much.

...

Lima is a huge, sprawling city and it doesn't really have huge, sprawling city amenities. There isn't an extensive network of rapid transit; just taxis and combis. As I said in my Callao post, this was a city that in Winter was overcast all day. Compared to Cusco, which was sunny during the day, it was mortifying in its bleakness.

Originally I thought of doing nothing in Lima. I would just stay at the Callao hostel and sleep two nights then leave. My friends advised me to avoid this and seek out a good time. I figured they were wiser than me so I decided to find a hostel in Miraflores.

Miraflores is the district tourists usually flock to for residence while in Lima. There was a Loki hostel in Miraflores, but checking out their prices I was a bit turned off. I figured I'd check out other hostels in the area for similar amenities. I found one that had a spiffy website with such amenities as wifi, continental breakfast, and my magic words "hot water" and was 7 soles cheaper. I decided to go there.

Because of what had been told to me at the Loki Hostel I thought I could get to where I needed via combi. "Take the S combi." The "S Combi" would take one to Miraflores so I thought cool. Sounds good. I arrived in the airport and went to the information desk to ask about the combis. She wouldn't give me any information. They said they strongly advise tourists to not take the combis because of how dangerous they are. Ok. Is there no airport shuttle? No. You need to take a taxi, the Green Taxi. Really? I can't take a combi. I'm sorry sir.

With no information I went to the Green Taxi. I knew the price it should be, 35 soles. Their price: 45. I started walking away but then they were like "not US$45, 45 soles." I knew they meant soles at the get go, but a give a shit factor in me waned and I decided I'd give them my money and I'll get to Miraflores. It would mean that in order to stay where I needed to I would eventually go over my budget. I had two budget lines: an ideal budget (where I had $1000 left in my banking account) and an absolute maximum budget (where I wouldn't spend anymore money once I hit $500). I went below the ideal budget. Fair enough. Barely, but over budget ahoy!

The taxi took me to the hostel which didn't look as bright as the Loki. It was overcast so everything looked drab, however. Inside there weren't a lot of people, but I was ok with that because it meant I could chill with little interference. That night I would meet up with a friend at Parque Kennedy so I'd relax, take a shower, etc.

They had hot showers. The bathroom, however, had no doors that closed properly. There was the primary door to the whole bathroom complex which wasn't a door as much as it was a wooden curtain that wouldn't slide completely over. Ok. The shower doors at least had doors, but once I got inside the cramp shower cell I tried to close the door and it wouldn't close. I tried again and again and nothing. Then I noticed the door's size and the size of the outlet. I realized the door was larger than the outlet, which mean it couldn't close completely. I'm thinking now, I bet the shower was cold. It wasn't. It was hot...scalding hot. As soon as the water hit me I yelped. I had to stand away and put on some cold water to dilute the scalding hot temperature and eventually found a nice balance. The shower was quite nice. As I said before, I'll take a hot shower in the town square so long as it's hot.

Let's talk about Miraflores for a moment. Whereas most of the city of Lima was a bit ragged through substantial migration into the city from rural citizens and the subsequently inadequate infrastructure adapatation, Miraflores was a bit more modern. It wasn't modern in a good way, a la Santiago. It was tacky, touristy, Western, and it reminded me of Myrtle Beach or the other tacky beach towns I remember in the Southern US and in Florida. All the restaurants around Parque Kennedy and Larcomar were either upscale and needlessly expensive or United States chains. The only restaurant that looked good was La Lucha Sanduicheria, which would be my last stop.

I met up with my friend in front of the Cathedral in the area and we began to walk around, going all the way to the Pacific coast at night and coming back to where she introduced me to an inexpensive Peruvian food called Chifa, which is Peruvian-Chinese food. It was inexpensive, about 9 soles for a plate with soup, and it wasn't too bad.

Overall, however, I was missing Cusco pretty badly.

...

The next day I decided as I was devoid of an itinerary I would improvise. My friend was to meet me again that evening, but I started off the day by heading toward the coast. Once at the beach I started climbing around the rocks to get closer to the crashing waves. As I found a rock pier I started walking on it and the more I walked on it the more I saw litter and trash left by previous conquests. I got near and stood on top of a rock and got a view of the expanse of the Pacific. Then a big wave hit and got me wet. I realized I would get soaked if I stayed here so I began walking back and sure enough another big wave hit, overtaking the rocks and getting my back soaked. Lovely. No sarcasm; it was fun.

After grabbing some Chifa for lunch I looked up Miraflores to see what was around and discovered Huaca Pucllana, a pre-Incan site just sitting in Miraflores. I also looked up distance and found that it was 5 minutes walking distance so I immediately left and found the place. It was 12 soles for visitors but I got the student rate of 5 soles. Inside everyone had to get a tour, so I got the one in English. Huaca Pucllana was actually quite fascinating. A series of adobe ruins centered around an adobe pyramid, the place had been a worship center led by female priests. Translated from Quechua, its name means "a place for ritual games." It was initially started by the Lima peoples, around AD 500 and later adopted by the Wari people and modified in the 800s. The bricks of adobe for the structures were laid out like bookshelves which in its unique design helped absorb the earthquakes that would come in the area. Mostly it was a religious area so there were many sacrificial tombs unearthed, of women, children, animals, etc. I had never seen anything quite like this so I was growing on the city.

That evening, my friend and I got on a bus and went to Parque de la Reserva. Parque de la Reserva was an antique park modified about 4 years ago to have ornate and colorful fountains. There was one fountain that was essentially a tunnel one walked through. Walking around we saw people taking in the park for special celebrations such as weddings, fiestas de quince, etc. It wasn't a bad nightcap. Our bus travels had given me  a confidence with local transport to where I could travel to the Historic District and take a combi to the airport.

...

My last day in Lima; a city I had dread but I was slowly discovering some of its charms. I decided that as I was in Lima I couldn't leave until I visited the Historic District, the Central area built by Pizarro and his men 500 years ago. It was a UNESCO World Heritage Site.

I got off the bus right before Av. Arequipa became a new street and decided to walk through the Park of the Exposition. It was walking past I saw a homeless kid relieving himself in a grassy area and my moment of possibly caring about the city subsided.

The actual park was nice, particularly the Moorish pavilion. Walking toward the Historic District I started seeing ornate buildings, first the neoclassical buildings around Plaza San Martin until I came upon Plaza de mayor or Plaza de Armas. The plaza had commercial buildings painted in a vibrant yellow while the government palace was an old and ornate gray with guards everywhere clinging to their AK's. Seeing this plaza was seeing something of a wonder but I found myself comparing it to the adobe ruins of Huaca Pucllana and how ornamentation was a tool of the Spanish for submitting the Natives. Man, I'm a cynic. Still, I found the area undeniably interesting and worthy of my visit.

I hit back on a bus and grabbed lunch at La Lucha Sanduicheria, a chicken with cheese and pineapple sandwich that was exquisite.

Then I grabbed a combi. I told the hostel employee that I was taking a combi to the airport and he stopped me. He recommended I not take the combi, that it was too dangerous. I said I have one bag and no valuables but if he could find me a taxi for 35 soles I'll take a taxi. He said 40 soles and I said no. So for 3 soles I took a combi. That was a hell of an experience.

First I was the only white person on there, which isn't a huge deal to me. It was jam packed and full of people; even though combis are pretty much just a van the individual who collects the masses is willing to have standing room only like it's a MARTA bus. I got a seat but an old man didn't and he was complaining because a mother didn't put her kid in her lap and didn't want to. The man who collects the payments and people, the old man, and the mother began to get in a shouting match before the old man found a seat as someone left. Then another oblivious lady got on and took the child's seat and the child just went ballistic, screaming and crying and his mother was telling him in Spanish to shut up. Fun. Then we got into Callao and right as we got into Callao we heard about three gun shots outside the combi in the streets. I looked out and saw three youths running into an alley. More fun. Eventually we got to the airport and I knew I was home free and my next stop was Atlanta.

I was ready. My friends would pick me up, we would go to The Vortex and get a Fat Elvis burger (well I would). There's a point in every vacation, every trip, trek, etc. when the traveler becomes full or complete. When that happens it's time to go home. I think after 4 weeks I was complete.

...

To give an ending to my entire trip requires a separate post, an epilogue, but for Lima it was an interesting experience. Through my friend I saw a different, progressive perspective of Lima. Lima had its beauty, its charms, particularly through its people and its history. Lima was less of an anti-climax as I had expected subsequent to Machu Picchu, but more of a denouement. It was a place to create normality again, a place to get used to the fact that life isn't always like Machu Picchu. If you, the reader, even choose a South American adventure I'd spend no less than a day in Lima, but understand that Lima isn't the worst city ever.

Toccoa, in the state of Georgia in the United States, is worse. Always.