Sun came out again this morning so i knew it would be a good day... morning came early and we were off to the flight. before leaving for the airport to see the nasca lines, danny - el italiano and i had a little early morning breakfast... so, tony, do you have your name on you cloaths so people will know wo you are if the plane crashes, asked danny - after the fun and games, i took a picture of tony and danny and showed it to tony along with ´if your picture comes out, you will survive the day´ [View Full Entry]

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he could not have been more than about nine years old, he looked at my dish of food recently eaten, and glanced into my eyes - puedo - all i had left was letuce, tons of onions, assorted pieces of uneaten ceviche... the starkeness of the white sand dunes, the pacific ocean, and the oasis which is pisco was hard to take in - my eyes saw white sand, green from the grapes, chile, cotton and corn planted along side of the pisco river adjacent the foothills to the andes. an early morning pick up at the hostel, which was operating [View Full Entry]

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it had not rained in Lima since 1972, that is until last night - i would not be so bold as to suggest i brought the rain, but, it was the last time i was there - living in arizona was not the desert - the desert is where there is no vegetation, at least that is what i think of when i think desert, brown, sand, hot - the road from lima to pisco was pure desert. we sat on the top of the tourist bus, tony got the window seat, and as we left lima, he would point out [View Full Entry]

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Into the day… Surrounding the ‘pizza street’ are what appears to be an ocean of bodies/ all young, dark and beautiful. Walk down the street and on your left are lovely dark skinned young women soliciting business… not for sex, but for me to come into the perspective restaurant and have dinner. The activity got heavy in Miraflores at about ten at night, and went until about four in the morning. I know this because the window of my hostel * USD$25 per room* faces the street and I could hear the buzz of the youth and traffic before I passed [View Full Entry]

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going below the equator makes one feel like time has roleld back... the southern cross, a familiar yet distant memory stands out, as do the vistas, aromas and langauge technology has permeated the rich cultural structure of the decendants of the incas - internet by the sol, high speed, thousands of computers, thousands of people typing their anxieties, fears and hopes into the vastness of cyberspace... miraflores, the beach community, tourism center, controlled by the police as to not allow the euros´s and yen and dollars to flee the poor yet proud country politically, ¨Tony¨my new f [View Full Entry]

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