The more that I keep on expecting shit to go wrong, the more shit keeps on going right.
When you're on a long bus journey and you can't afford the fancy bed buses, the best that anyone hopes for is a double seat to themselves.
In South America that doesn't happen so much though because pretty much every bus is sold-out. So after that, you just hope you don't get stuck next to some ugly person. Or some hobo that stinks. Or someone that's fat and will take up all of your space. Or someone that's French.
Basically the best you can hope for is ending up next to a beautiful girl. Who's not French. And I was pretty much the first person on this bus. So I'd been clocking every single person that got on. And of about 50 people that had got on, I think I had deemed just one that was acceptable to to sit next to me.
I have high standards.
And then virtually the last person to get onto this bus, this stunning Peruvian girl comes and takes the seat next to me. And it really is a case, of when the fuck is shit going to start going wrong.
They even played a film that was in English. And not only did they not lose my bag, but it was actually the first off the bus once we got to Lima. Something has to give. Something has to give. Because everything just goes way too well for me right now. Something has to go wrong. It has to. No one can be this lucky all the time.
It's not often a point for complaint when your bus arrives early. But we pull into central Lima at 5:20am. 40 minutes earlier than I was expecting, which really, really wasn't a good thing. Because what the fuck can I do in central Lima, with a backpack, at 5:20am?
It's not like I can go to the hostel already. It's not like I can go out and explore the city. So I just went into the waiting room, which didn't even have lights on at this time, and I just sat there. For over 2 hours until it was light out and I figured that I might actually be able to check into my hostel. Got a taxi down there. That was exciting.
Man I was instantly blown away by this hostel.
By Peruvian standards it's expensive. But by Lima standards it's standard. But wow. This is a fucking nice place!
Leather sofas. Flat-screen TV with cable. A kitchen better-equipped than most peoples houses. And in the en-suite bathroom in my dorm, there's a bath-tub almost big enough to swim around in. Fuck, there's even a water-feature in the garden, with the outside walls also tiled.
For a hostel, it's something ridiculous. And not supposed to be able to check-in until 1pm, my luck continued when my bed was free and available at 8am. So I was back asleep before long having spent the night on the bus. And this was probably about as exciting as this first-day here got.
I'm staying in the very "white area" of Lima. This is the affluent bit. It's not too different from being in the US in terms of layout. And walking down the street you see almost as many white-folk as you do Peruvian's. So it wasn't long until I'd stumbled across a McDonalds, with the same Big Mac special that they had in Trujillo.
Man this is how fast-food should taste.
You know how when you buy a McDonalds normally, it never looks like it does on the picture? Well here it does! Here it does. It looks just like the picture. And I don't know how or why. Better beef perhaps. But a Big Mac in Peru tastes fucking amazing. Ten times better than the crap that you'd get in the US.
On first impression, I really couldn't see why everyone had been dogging on Lima. I was really liking it.
I wasn't really digging the amount that I was paying for accomodation. And I didn't like all the white people. But other than that it was nice.
I was finding Miraflores, the area that I was staying in, to be somewhat fake. Not real Peru, but an area for people that think they're too good to live in a real area. Like Hollywood. But other than that I was liking it.
That being said, my plan was still only for 2 nights here. Because although the hostel here was costing me the same as Bogota say, and it's half the price that I was paying to stay in a typical hostel back in the US, I could still feel the burn on my pocket compared to what I've been paying lately. So it was just going to be a quick stop-over in Lima en route to Huacachina.
Or so I thought.
And as per usual, I suffered another bizarre coincidence here proving that this really is a small world.
Back in Huanchaco I met a Canadian girl, who said that back in Máncora she'd met a guy that used to work at Panorama mountain at around the same time that I was working there. A Swedish guy.
I had one Swedish guy on my Facebook from my time at Pano, so I messaged him and no dice. He was back in Sweden, so I thought nothing of it.
And anyway, in Lima there are a lot of hostels. A lot. Meaning that on Hostel World alone there are 34 listed, though that's only a small percentage of how many there actually are. And that includes some big chain hostels that the bulk of people will go to.
I chose a much, much smaller one. Much less known. Relatively new, but certainly one of the lesser-visited Lima hostels. There would be very little chance that I'd be running into anyone here, even if I did happen to know someone that was going to be in Lima at the same time.
I'm sure you can see where this is going now. But I was seeing this guy, looked familiar but not too sure if I actually knew him. Or where I knew him from. So I strike up a conversation, and yes. We did work together at Pano. Different departments so we were never close or anything. But I definitely knew his face. So 10 months after leaving Panorama, here I am in this small-time hostel in Lima, thousands of miles away. And here is this former colleague.
Fucking bizarre.
What's starting to worry me, is that I'm travelling so much, meeting so many people, that very soon there's not going to be anywhere that I can go in the world where I won't run into people that I know.
In my typical day I'll meet tens of new people. Mostly nothing more than a bit of interaction, but there will always be one or two that I'll vow to stay in contact with. Typically through Facebook. Which over a short time is insignificant. But being overseas long-term like I have been, these one or two people each day really start to add-up. And it's getting to the point that I know people everywhere in the world. Which may sound like a blessing. But personally, I like to keep anonymity. I like to do things alone. And I am more than comfortable with my own company. So it's almost a concern of mine, again perhaps a strange concern to have, that I am just meeting too many people. I have too many friends. Because the list of places in the world in which I can go and be alone, is really starting to dwindle.
I'm just meeting too many people.
I know butt-loads of people in Australia and New Zealand. I have friends in nearly every country in Europe. I know a butt-load in Canada and the US as well. And right now I'm expanding out through South America with promises to visit people in Argentina already, and other friends through Peru, Ecuador, Colombia...
Barring Africa, there's very little of the world left for me to escape to. And why the fuck would I want to go to Africa?
So Thursday, this was to be my only full day in Lima. And considering that, it was incredibly unproductive, taking perhaps 2 or 3 hours to wander the streets of Miraflores. Got another Big Mac. And I even bought a Spanish dictionary because you'd think that it's probably time that I start to actually find out what all this jibberish people talk to me actually means. It has been 9 or 10 weeks now. But it was so fucking hot. Perhaps not as hot as Huanchaco or Montañita. But there all you do all day is get drunk, go to the beach and lay in hammocks. This is a city. And this was too fucking hot for a city. So dripping in sweat I elected to spend a large chunk of the day sat in the hostel. Because afterall, it was fucking nice. And I was paying through the ass for it. Like £6.50 per night or something. So I wanted to get my value.
Though I've got to be honest. This kind of environment. It almost makes me uncomfortable.
It probably says something about me. But I feel comfortable in dirty, rundown, cheap places. That's where I feel at home. I do not like luxury or affluence. And to some extent I hold a distain for people that do. I just don't feel comfortable in it though. I feel very out of my element. And it sickens me even more to hear some of the stuck-up fuckers that are staying here talk about how this was the cheap-part of their trip. Staying in this hostel with leather sofas, cable television, and all the other stuff that I listed earlier and more, this is their idea of travelling cheaply. Which annoys the Hell out of me. But I just can't do it. I don't like it in this environment. I just don't need this stuff. Especially when in a place like Peru you can see poverty all around you. What kind of person can live in luxury with a clear-conscience knowing what is going on outside?
For people here I hear them talking. And a big problem for them is that they have to miss their sisters birthday. Or how their boyfriend hasn't called them today. And all I can think to myself, is you have to be fucking kidding me. That's a problem? In a country drowning in poverty, that's a problem? Some people just have no appreciation of the things that they have. And that really sickens me at times.
Though in a choice of being out in the Miraflores heat or chilling at the hostel, there wasn't much of a choice. So here it was that I stayed for much of my only full-day in Lima. Before in the evening, this guy that I knew from Huanchaco, a Limeñon or whatever the fuck they're called, came around here for a few drinks with the intention of heading into town and going out clubbing. Though somehow in amongst all of the beers, I got convinced to stay on in Lima for an extra day. And with these Spanish girls that we'd met, he'd show us around Lima tomorrow, and then we'd go out tomorrow night instead.
So I guess that Thursday wasn't to be my only full-day in Lima.
So anyway. Yesterday comes. And me and the Spanish's catch the bus into Lima and meet up with him early in the early afternoon. And I was really glad that I'd stayed on for this day. Because it would have been a mistake to have been to Lima and seen nothing more than Miraflores. Because Lima. It's actually a really nice city. And being with a local, I was able to see the parts of the city that perhaps others might not. Which included an art exhibition within his university.
Not usually my thing, but it was free and quite interesting. And he even took us down the druggy road. Where you go to buy drugs in Lima. And I got offered a butt-load!
Then we went to a park, where there was a girl working in this market, tells me that I look like a model
That I don't get often. Because despite my rugged good-looks, I don't exactly care too much for my appearance wearing dirty clothes and now 67 week void of a hair-cut. But apparently, I look like a model. And in this same park, me and the Spanish girls who were about as white as me, had to get photos with some locals. This has never happened to them before so I have to assume that it was mostly because of my presence, looking like a model and all. Because I get it all the fucking time.
And then last night. This was a proper night out, not a tourists night out.
It started out with me drinking alone at the hostel. I couldn't find anyone because the Spanish girls had gone to some big hill to look down over Lima that I couldn't be bothered to do. And we were supposed to be meeting Jorge, the Peruvian in town. So I just bought some beers and sat there drinking. In amongst which, probably motivated by the beer, I somehow agreed to meet these 2 English girls in Cuzco.
I don't even want to go to Cuzco. It's not on my list. But I guess now it is. Which is exactly what happens when you drink. You end up agreeing to do all kinds of crap that you don't want to do. Like it was only because I was drunk the night before that I'd been convinced to spend this extra day in Lima. And now I've added Cuzco to my list? Fuck.
After that though, the 4 of us (me Jorge and the Spanish's), joined by some guy with awesome hair, jump into a taxi and spend a while in town, looking for a bar that the girls have a flyer for. Which would have been great, except it was a flyer for a bar in Cuzco. So that wasn't a good start. So instead we go to this bar that has, a band... though to call it a band is perhaps an exaggeration. More a man on a piano. And a man hitting some drums. It was good though. Before we go onto this electronic club.
On the way, we try to go to this other club. And you would not have even known that it was a club from the outside, because you had to go through this tiny gate, manned by 2 security guards, and then up 5 or 6 flights of dirty stairs, which included passing all the rubbish in the building, before getting to this next door which has a security guard outside. And as it turned out, this place was about to close, so we don't end up going into here. But this was what I meant that it was a real night out. Because this was the kind of place that only a local could know about. Instead though we end up at this other club. And it's from here that my memory starts to fade.
From what I can remember, a lot of the night was spent having to get drunken Peruvian's away from me. Because along with with the Spanish girls, I was certainly the only white person in this place. But for some reason they simply didn't command the attention that I received. Which is strange because they were both at least moderately attractive. But even sobre, people give me a lot of attention in this country. Drunk, and I really had to be patient. Because there were a lot of people wanted to talk to me. And this morning I woke up with a butt-load of phone numbers in my pocket. Not such a good thing though, because from what I can remember they were mostly from men. Not in a gay way. But people that for reasons I don't really remember, gave me a lot of phone numbers.
Despite all the unwanted attention though, I had a really good night. From what I remember of it, which doesn't stretch to the end of the night. I don't remember leaving and I don't remember getting back to the hostel. However, judging by the people today that know me that I've never seen before, it seems that I didn't exactly come back here and go straight to bed.
I wake up at 11:40 this morning. And the plan was that I was going to split a taxi with the Spanish's this morning, because they were catching a bus from the same place that I would be. But I woke up, half-drunk, half-hungover. 20 minutes before check-out. And it was just a case of no fucking way!
I stayed up for maybe an hour. Said goodbye to them. But I was staying here an extra night, because I was too fucking hungover to be going to Huacachina today. And I went back to bed and slept until about 6pm tonight. So because of alcohol I was now having 2 nights in Lima longer than I was scheduling for. And I've somehow agreed to go to Cuzco as well.
This is why I shouldn't be allowed to drink.
Getting up properly at 6pm, this hasn't been what you would call a productive day. Though I did go to McDonalds again, and get 2 Big Macs this time.
That's four in the last four days now so it's probably a good thing that I actually will be leaving Lima tomorrow. And there are a couple of other Limeñon's that I know from Montañita that I really wanted to see in my time here. But as circumstances would have it, I haven't been able to yet. And tonight I probably would have been able to. But fuck it. If I go out partying again, I will never leave this city.
Why people dislike Lima though? I've had a great fucking time. This is an awesome city. Right up there with Bogota. So once again I'm seeing a charm in a place that others really miss. I think this is a great city. For the price that I'm paying to be here though; £6.50 per night, it's something of a necessity to move on. Especially as if I elect to camp in Huacachina, I could be paying as little as about £2.25. Which sounds much, much better.
I think that Huacachina will be a short stay. And I know that I said that about Lima, but I'd think 2, or at most 3 nights. Because there really isn't too much to do in this town of 200 people.
It has an oasis (whatever the fuck that is) that appears on the back of the Peruvian 50 soles note. And Huacachina is well-know for sand-boarding and sand-buggying. That shouldn't take me too long to achieve. But from there, Arequipa? Or do I go to Cuzco, which I did kind of inadvertantly agree to after having a few beers?
That's something that I'll decide on in a day or so.
Lima though. I've loved it. And as often happens I've found charm in a place that other people seemingly dislike. Why? I don't know. Perhaps I'm just more tolerant of places different to the status quo. But this contintent continues to inspire me as simply the funnest place in the world. I'm loving it.
I can't put my finger on why, but there's just something about South America.