That's right folks its me again and as ever I am welcoming you to the next and very latest of my Amazing Adventures. I hope this instalment finds you all well. I am also pleased to welcome those of you who are new to my Adventures, I can think of at least 6 new readers although 4 of these were people I travelled with in Peru (I always find it harder to write about things which will be read by people that were there). Before I make the introductions however there is ground to cover that a strict adherence to chronology would prohibit me from mentioning later.
So how did it all begin? Well as you may remember from my Ohio adventures after returning from OZ there were a number of places I had been wanting to go to next. I had considered Africa, both for the pyramids of Egypt and the wildlife of safari country. I'd also had my eye on India for a more cultural experience but the place I had wanted to go to for the longest was Peru. Why? Well read on and you shall see. Of course wanting to go to a place and getting there are two things. It wasn't a case of packing my bags buying a plane ticket and setting off, oh no, there was much planning to be done. Given the chance to just turn up in Peru with a travel book and start exploring the place on my own I may well have taken it but there were a couple of obstacles. Firstly the main language of Peru is Spanish (which is used along side a number of native languages, none of which I speak) and the second obstacle was time. I had to fit in everything I wanted to see and do into a matter of weeks, after which of course I was expected back at work. So I had to look for a compromise and it came in the form of a tour. This tour however wasn't your run of the mill five star 'cushion class' touristy type thing, it was a rugged nuts and bolts affair without the constraints of jam packed itineraries. It promised me a place in a small group of like minded travellers and a chance to go to all the places I wanted to see as well as a few that most tourists fear to tread. Or more correctly their respective governments (mine included) advise against visiting. And so I had found what I was looking for and better still it fitted my time window exactly.
The first step of the journey had been made but I was still six months away from actually setting off. During this time I had more to do than simply dream of things to come, I had equipment to buy, vaccinations to get (6 of them) and I even had a stab at learning some Spanish (but didn't get very far). Now you might quite rightly think that six months would be more than enough time to get these few things done but it wasn't until the day before I set off that I had everything I would need and was ready to go.
In my Ohio adventures I commented on how I enjoyed the idea of just strolling out the front door one day and arriving in another country the next. Well on that occasion I had been given a lift to Ilkley station but this time there was no one around to take me as my parents had gone to (of all the places they could have chosen) Peru. You wouldn't credit it would you. I have a suspicion that they only ended up choosing Peru after hearing me extolling its virtues. On the up side at least I was setting off before their return so they couldn't tell me things it would be more fun to discover for myself. Anyway back to the plot. I was faced with the choice of either getting a taxi or hauling on my old green backpack and quite literally strolling out my front door. The weather was excellent (a little bit too excellent as it turned out) so off I strode. I had allowed extra time to get there in case the backpack slowed me down, which it didn't so I was early for my train and this also made that walk the only part of my journey that day without delays. The reason behind all of these delays was the unpredictable British weather, a freak summer snow storm would have been less surprising than what we got. It was a heat wave. The problem this caused was that when the train tracks get hot they expand and if they get too hot and expand too much there is a risk that they will buckle. This is apparently less of a problem if the trains go much slower, although I don't really see why. Knowing this in advance I had caught an earlier train from Ilkley to Leeds and its lucky I did because just before we get into Leeds station the train just stops. It transpired that the main computer in York had chucked a wobbly and so every train in the north of England stood still. We got there in the end and the Kings Cross train was just pulling in as I got to the platform. This was supposed to arrive in London about 2 hours or so later but due to numerous stops and some sections where we crept along it took just over 4 hours and to add to the fun the air conditioning in some of the carriages failed forcing people to move into ours making it hotter. Despite these vexations the views of the countryside were pretty nice so I just sat back and watched the world go by.
Fortunately I didn't have to get into a panic about missing my plane as it didn't leave until the next morning. Having arrived in Kings Cross I made my way underground where it was even hotter and got the tube across London to my brothers flat where I was staying that night. After a necessary cup of tea we set off out to find a pub for dinner; we weren't terribly successful but that's another story. On this particular visit we weren't going to get the chance to go out on the town as we both had 6:30am starts the next day.
When we were back down on the street next morning the air was a little cooler but this didn't last for long, the heat wave was still with us and I was soon sweating just walking along. I caught the bus to Victoria station and got the express train through to Gatwick. Fortunately the delays of the day before seemed to be a thing of the past and everything started to click into place. My liking for flying persists however the enjoyment was reduced by not getting the window seat I had requested. No matter, I was there, seat belt fastened and hand luggage safely stowed, it was time to go. Aside from a little turbulence the flight was trouble free, the food was decent enough and the films were OK too although my computer game controller pad was broken. Anyway six or seven hours later we had crossed the Atlantic and were fast approaching our initial destination. My flight was not direct so I had to change planes at Newark Airport (USA) and it was here that my airport fun started. Of course at this point I had no way of knowing how much more related fun lay ahead, that this was just the beginning. I got off the plain and headed for customs in order to go through the additional security checks that the Americans insist on. So I queue up with all the others and at long last its my turn to present the man in the booth my passport. He barked the usual pointless questions at me about where I was going and why and when I was last in the US. Well as many of you know I was in the US in February. This of course was stamped in my passport but it seemed to be causing a problem. In a typically unfriendly way I was told that I would have to go with one of the other customs officials to 'The Room'. I have to be honest that I wasn't in the least bit concerned about this and not totally surprised either. Not because there was any legitimate reason why I should attract additional scrutiny, simply because it is the sort of thing I have learned to expect when passing through America. The room had a high counter at one end behind which several customs officials milled about without appearing to be doing anything constructive at all. The rest of the room was filled with rows of seats on which sat a random looking selection of passengers. I was told to take a seat and my documents (which were now in an official plastic folder) were put on the counter with everyone else's. I sat down next to a girl who had been sent to the room at the same time as me. It turned out she was English and seemed rather more rattled by the whole experience than I. We got talking, neither of us knowing why we had been singled out, she was worried she might miss her plane and wanted to go and complain. I talked her out of it and tried to calm her down, which was perhaps a bit too successful as before long we were laughing and joking whilst everyone else in the room sat rigidly and stared at their feet in silence. Before we had too much fun however her name was called out and moments later she was without explanation allowed to continue her journey. The room was quiet again and was filling up faster than it was emptying. A couple of minutes later my name was called and I was asked all the same questions I had been asked before. This time they seemed satisfied with the answers and gave me back my papers. I thanked them (as sincerely as I could) and headed to the door only to be called back at the last second. My papers were taken off me again and I was made to wait at the counter. Whilst I waited the woman dealing with me wandered off into a back room and a few minutes later returned having done nothing at all (I could see into the room) and returned my things to me and I was free to go - no explanation given. As you may have guessed from what I said earlier this wasn't the last time I would be taken to 'The Room' on this trip.
With that done I went to baggage claim which due to my delayed arrival was empty so getting my bag was nice and easy. I checked it back in onto my connecting flight and went to find somewhere to sit while I waited. The next plane was smaller but the biggest difference was the other passengers. The vast majority were speaking Spanish and many also had a native Peruvian appearance. Considering this it struck me as odd that the film they showed on the flight was an old Sherlock Holmes film, The Crucifixion Of Blood. I rather enjoyed it but no one else seemed to be paying it any attention. Another six or seven hours passed before our bumpy descent into Lima. It was about 10:30 at night local time and I had been on the go for around 22 hours (I had slept a little on the plane) the airport was cold and gloomy and I was tired. I also had the task of getting to my hotel. Fortunately Peruvian customs are rather different to American ones and when I had collected my bag I went over to the exit where I had to press a button. The result of this was either a red or green light (presumably random?) if you got the green light you walk straight through, however if you got the red light you were supposedly searched. I say supposedly because the guy going through the channel to the left of me got a red light and was told to carry on through anyway. I changed a little money into the Peruvian currency of Nuervo Sol or Sol for short and went to arrange a taxi. Here I encountered some very helpful (and easily amused) locals working on the tourist counter. I asked for a taxi to my hotel only to get quizzical looks in reply. They were casting some doubt on the existence of the hotel and surprise that I should want to go to that part of town. It took a while for the penny to drop before I realised that it was a ploy to persuade me to change my reservation to a hotel of their recommendation. Well, after they realised that I wasn't about to change my mind they got me a taxi and off I went.
The ride into central Lima was my first look at Peru and I am glad to say that it wasn't representative of the rest of the country. It was dark and the roads were busy and noisy, taxis and mini-busses criss-crossed between lanes. We passed through a brightly lit strip of casinos and American fast food places like you might find in any capital city in the world. Later we drove through tall international class hotels and offices before entering a far less well off area of the city. I was starting to wonder if the people at the tourist counter had actually been trying to help. When the taxi pulled over to the side of the road it was about 11:30 and although the street we were in was better off than some we had seen it wasn't all that great especially in the middle of the night. I couldn't see a hotel but the driver assured me it was the right place and he got out. At about this time a smartly dressed man appeared behind a sturdy metal gate. He knew who I was and in broken English told me they were expecting me. The gate was unlocked and I was led through a small shopping arcade to the hotels modest entrance. Once inside it was a quite different story. I had expected something quite nasty, dirty, poorly maintained. Surprisingly it was very nice. This was the Hostal Gemina where the helpful Spanish speaking staff checked me in and took my bags to my room. Once the door was shut behind me I sat down on the bed slightly dazed, it had been a long day, I was tired and the initial difficulties of being alone in a country where you don't speak the language was an unexpected strain. I felt like there was something I was supposed to be doing but my days mission was complete; all that was left to do was get some sleep so that I might be ready for the challenges of the morrow. I remember thinking before I fell asleep that during previous travels I had stayed awake longer, travelled farther, faced greater obstacles and come through it all less worn. Well the key often used is always bright and though this key would again shine it was for the time being conspicuously dulled.
The morning woke me with the noise from the street. Today was technically the first day of the tour although all this really meant was that I would meet the group that I would be travelling with, we weren't going anywhere until tomorrow. I went to reception to find out the details of this meeting. It wasn't until the evening, which gave me the rest of the day to explore my surroundings and try to achieve a few basic tasks. My first challenge was a psychological one, I had read that one of Lima's other similarities with the worlds capital cities was the crime rate, I had read all the warnings and things to look out for. Now logically I knew that London was at least as bad but there I could speak the language. I went back to my room to form a plan of action which looking back was probably a delay tactic. Putting off the inevitable I sat and looked through my Spanish phrase book which only served to remind me how little I knew. I don't know what had happened to the spirit of adventure that had got me through so many things before but there remained one motivating factor. I had missed out on a breakfast I didn't know I could have had and the only food in my pack was a solitary chocolate biscuit. I had dallied long enough, I took a deep breath and set off. Back on the street it looked very different from the night before. It was bustling with locals and the roads were busy with cars and taxis beeping their horns and swerving all over the place. I had no idea where to go and my guide book maps didn't cover this part of town; considering how readily I get lost it was perhaps foolish to set off so unprepared. I took a left down Av. Grau and started walking, passing street money changers at every corner and making a bad job of crossing roads. I passed cafes and restaurants, a well kept square, banks and all the things you would expect to find in a city, only here the lack of wealth was impossible to miss. Buildings were dull and grubby, some in need of basic maintenance and all made less appealing by Lima's pervasive grey sky. Well, after this initial look around I found a food shop and bought some lunch after which I had a lengthy and concerning experience in a money changing shop which I am amazed to report turned out OK in the end. Anyway, now that I had found my feet I idled away the rest of the afternoon wandering about.
With the days main hurdles behind me there remained one last thing that had to be done. The appointed time arrived and I wandered down to the hotel lounge where we were all to meet. I of course had tried in vain not to form expectations or preconceptions about the people I would be spending the next few weeks with. All I knew for certain was that there could be as many as 13 of us including the tour leader and we could be from any place on Earth and be almost any age. So at last it is time for the introductions. It turned out that there were not thirteen of us, in fact there were only to be seven of us. I say 'were to be' because one person had pulled out at the very last second and so our soon to be merry band was just six. The others in no particular order were Helen (Australian) and her husband Per (Danish but sounded Australian) and Simon and Sandy (both English and also a couple). This leaves only our esteemed leader Stephan (French but had lived there less than he had lived elsewhere). We got acquainted and Stephan ran us through the plan of action. A plan that he was almost as unfamiliar with as we were as this was to be the first (and he probably hoped last) time he had led this tour. With the formalities out of the way we all went out for dinner. Due to the relative cheapness of Peru we ate out all the time and food was definitely a feature of this trip as will become apparent during these tales. The Peruvian classics I sampled on this occasion started with a main course of Lomo Saltado, a kind of stir fried beef with onions, vinegar, ginger, chilli, tomatoes and fried potatoes served with rice. It was very much to my taste and after the days unsatisfactory eating arrangements it was also very welcome. This was all washed down with a local (local to Peru not to Lima) beer called Cuzquena (from Cuzco), but to start we all tried a cocktail called a Pisco Sour. Traditionally this drink is from the village of Pisco (some way south on the coast) and contains Pisco (a strong white grape brandy), lime juice, egg white, sugar and cinnamon. When it arrived it was slightly frothy and smelled like stale white wine. I did force myself to finish it but it has certainly earned itself a place in my top ten list of least pleasant drinks ever tried. The taste could have been tolerated on its own but in combination with the viscosity it was more of a challenge than a pleasure. Incidentally I was the only one to hold the Pisco Sour in such low regard, some of the others had more than one but I would have to be hard pressed to ever drink it again. Anyway, during the meal we all started to get to know each other and all the usual questions were asked. We all got on pretty well considering our varied backgrounds, ages and occupations. Perhaps not all that strange; I have always found the other travellers I have met whilst travelling to be uncommonly cordial. Of course initial encounters are made that bit easier by always having a shared interest to talk about.
The night had fallen about us and when we finally left the restaurant the streets were still crowded with locals milling about, the roads still raced lawlessly with tired looking vehicles. On returning to the hotel I looked back over the day and on the principle that all's well that ends well I had to admit that all had indeed been well.
We breakfasted together the next morning and then met Stephan who had arranged us a mini-van to the bus station. The bus was pretty swish and certainly on a par with many a luxury western coach. We commented that it was of a standard that we hadn't expected but we were not to be disappointed for long as it was the last one like it we would see for quite some time.
As we made our way out of Lima we passed out of the built up centre and as we did the signs of prosperity diminished. I saw people sleeping in parks and on roundabouts and others making a living selling reclaimed car wheel hubs. Further on there appeared plots of farmed land between dwellings and far fewer people. After this we started to climb up and up and with this came the beginnings of the mountain terrain that would dominate the rest of the trip. The mountain-ish hills on the outskirts of Lima were more like rugged piles of rough grey rocks filled in with dirty looking grey dust. Little grew on them and they looked as if at any moment they would collapse. The traffic thinned, the road narrowed and steepened, we were on our way, the adventures had truly begun.
And on that note I will bring this instalment to a close. As you may be aware I am already home from my trip in Peru and so am in a position to write down the whole adventure in one big chunk. This however would not only delay its issue but also make reading it seem a more significant undertaking and so I have elected to split it into parts. I don't yet know how many parts there will be or when the next one will be ready but as soon as it is you shall have it.
A note to my newest readers. I have the habit of referencing past adventures which you will not have read, so should you wish to catch up on what I have been up to then drop me an email and I will forward them onto you.
Until the next time,
David.