Early last year we decided to spend xmas and new year 08/09 in Peru. A formerly
great place that now has the added attraction of my good friend Mr Clarke, a resident of the vibrant city of Lima. We bought our exhorbitant tickets at the beginning of the fuel crisis, wondering whether our holiday insurance covered 'planet going down the drain' before we leave. 8 months of excited expectation were rewarded in a top holiday. However, the necessary 6 flights from Wellington meant that any green conscience we had built up by walking to work was dramatically shattered and probably requires us to sequester tonnes of carbon. I've already started to eat, rather than meticulously scrape, any burnt toast to get a head start.Paul - erstwhile brother of rock - Clarke chose Lima due to the most common of reasons; a woman. Apart from the attraction of a very lovely lady, it can't have been a difficult choice, especially when compared to the heinously bland South Woodham in deepest darkest Essex (where the three main exciting attractions worth visiting seem to be: a river, a footy pitch and a leisure centre, without graffiti).
The holiday consisted of great food, wonderful company, interesting sights, local customs and plenty of new experiences. The holiday included a first.
Lisa and I (with Jen and her mum) entered our first organised tour. The bitter taste soon wore off as we were escourted around with efficiency and soon got used to the luxurious hotels (compared with our usual backpacker hostel choices) and fancy transport. We saw heaps more than would otherwise have had. Left to our own devices the ten days would not have started till midday and we wouldn't have seen at least half the sights we did. You can call me a hypocrytical sonofabitch though, as I still found time to produce a condecending, smug grin at the group of tourists paraded around with military precision by an umbrella waving goon between cheesy photo opp to overpriced restaurant. I have decided to fight mediocrity from within.
Arequipa and Puno were ace, the canyon was dramatic, the ruins were interesting, bartering fun and landscape often breathtakingly beautiful. Lisa and I spent enough time in the uber cool bohemian suburb of Barranco to actually feel like the place could be a potential candidate for a longer stay. Although, even after a year of evening classes, it was a rude awakening that I'd have to put more work in on the lingo. I found pigeon spanish solace in cab drivers, who were happy enough with my business to let me practice my limited vocab out on them.The next year has been dedicated a year of local exploration but we are already itching to plan another long haul adventure.
(a whole heap of pics in Flickr, however, I have now reached my unpaid limit in financially uncertain times.)
