Adventures 2013

This year has a European flavour with a stay in a Villa in Portugal, driving tour of Brittany, home exchange in a farmhouse in Gascony and of course a return to the farmhouse in Derbyshire.

Let the adventures begin and may they be full of life experiences!

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About Me

Now we are retired we spend three months each year travelling. This blog records some of our adventures! · 2012 Hong Kong, Jordan, France, Cuba and England. · 2011: Copenhagen, Derbyshire and Bavaria ...wonderful! · 2010: New Zealand, South America, Denmark, UK and Africa! · 2009 Dubai, Italy, Portugal, England and of and of course a year in Gunnison, Colorado.

Tuesday, December 29, 2009

OH MY GOD!!! LIMA!!!!

So from calm LA to hustling Lima

Arrived to a wall full of people but not like Madras where every second person was pushing and touting for a hotel or cab. It was quiet but there was a real air of excitement as hundreds of people waited to greet family members returning to Peru for Christmas.

A few people asked us if we wanted a taxi but we saw an “Official Taxi” stand and a grey haired well groomed man in smart grey suit welcomed us to Peru. Grand Bolivar Hotel he said $17 and immediately called our driver. A couple of minutes later a diminutive man (we were to meet lots while we were in Peru, makes me feel positively tall!) took us out into the dark, mild night to our “Green Taxi” He slid the sign off the roof (what did that mean?) and away we shot. I don’t think that apart from when we slammed to a halt at lights or braked horrendously to avoid another vehicle we ever travelled at a speed less than 90km!

Surprising amount of traffic on the road – it was after all 11.30 @night. But it was quiet.. the occasional honk of a horn at lights and voices emerging from casinos as we passed but generally quiet and calm. Certainly no yahooing! Many cars we passed were battered and rusted. Amazing to think they were still drivable. Mini buses were packed to the hilt and speeding along at the same rate as us.

Many of the apartments that we roared passed appeared to be unfinished, but were clearly occupied by many families, even modern looking buildings had broken windows and looked unkempt and uncared for.

It is always strange to land in a country and feel the “stamp” the culture has made on a place. Immediately had the sense that the outside or externals don’t matter, recognise that behind those battered walls will be some wonderful and some awful living spaces.

Traffic lights bring out the worst in the drivers and we experience the macho revving of engines and ingenious ways to beat traffic lights including swinging onto the pavement if necessary to overtake! A few near crashes certainly got the adrenalin going!

After hurtling through the 60’s concrete jungle we emerge to find ourselves in a grand square – a zocolo. Santa and glittering lights adorn the ornate buildings. The centre of the square is dominated by a huge figure astride a horse . “The Libertor” Only later did we find out that a statue of Our Lady had been commission to sit below the liberator. On her head was to be a garland of flames. Unfortunately in Spanish the word flames and llamas are the same. You guessed it - she has a llama on her head! I would have liked to have been a fly on the wall the day the statue was unveiled!

As we crawl around the square…….traffic has built up, we see a small bar – that looks fun we think! Just then we pull in front of the Grand Bolivar Hotel… and grand it is, if faded somewhat!

Immeidatley the bell boy – a small man of about 50 rushes out and grabs both of our backpacks, legs buckling under the weight … and he is gone through the shadows and gloom of the hotel entrance. What an entrance. It is eerie, no lights on but through the gloom we can make out a huge stained glass cupola up ahead, Christmas tree, busts of roman generals and a piano. Through an archway and there is a reception. Grand counter, bell pulls, huge safe and a welcoming smile from a young guy who speaks great English.

Hola, Buenas Noches, Hi but mmmmm we don’t seem to have a booking for you! I show him the voucher that shows we have paid in full. Ah internet he says. No worries we have plenty of room. He clicks his fingers and the bellboy is back and we are in an ancient lift where the brass is gleaming. I look around…everything is ancient, faded but spotlessly clean.

Our room is huge with a low bed covered in a deep red satin quilt and white, white linen pressed beautifully, if a bit limp. Ancient bathroom and plumbing. So quiet. We enquire about food…. 12.00am everything closed fair enough and so we head out across the square to the little outside bar that we saw.

In we go… immediately a waiter in a perfect uniform shows us to a seat in the corner of the varandah where we have a great view of the square. We ask for una cerveza and una copa de vino blanco. Beer no problem vino mmmmm. Next to us were 4 people obviously drunk as and REALLY REALLY LOUD. They immediately decided to help us. There was a thin teary looking young woman, a plumper women with the LOUDEST voice I have ever heard. An older man obviously in his cups and a jovial looking younger guy with a permanent smile on his face.

Quel horreur! They managed to move from their corner into our ears in five seconds flat. The whole restaurant was looking in our direction………not what we anticipated. (We have been here 6 days now and not seen anyone drunk or disorderly!!!!)

The waiter reappears with a bottle of horrible sweet red wine which the group have paid for. The old guy stumbles out of the cafĂ©. They yell after him embriagado, embriagado……”pissed, pissed”

A story emerges, repeated constantly at high decibels which went something like “my sister…my sister…England, ENGLAND My sister England, plane, baby. Each member of the group came close and repeated this, their breath stinking of beer and cigarettes, – their shouting making our ears throb. Somehow through all of this we managed to order some chicken and patatas.

The waiter arrives and sweeps the food onto the table. The group retreat back to their corner. We breathe a sigh of relief and start to eat. Mumbles from behind. We can hear the thin woman crying. She starts to cuddle with the guy, we look fixedly at our meal (which is actually very good).

Suddenly the guy lunges towards us, patting our backs and asking what we are doing to tomorrow. "Leaving for Araguipa." we say. "Where you stay"? "Grand Bolivar Hotel" we say. This brings cheers and cries of Peru. Peru. The guy gets out his business card, Christian he says. I think he means religion and then realise it is his name. A bottle of beer is slammed on the table, the plump women slops our wine into her beer glass, swigs it down and then they all lurch out of the restaurant. What a surreal experience!

Gratefully, we finish our meal in silence under the gaze of astonished Peruvians who have clearly never seen anything like it!.

1 comment:

ozoechslin said...

Julie, if you get this while in Arequipa - do NOT miss the Convent! Don't recall the name but it's a photographer's delight. We loved A. and wish we could've stayed longer -10 years ago. You'll love Cusco too! Adios! Tricia & Hans