If Huancavelica moves slowly, Yauli goes in reverse. A bucolic settlement forty minutes from Huancavelica by taxi, it is an unassuming town of a few thousand far enough away to leave the tedium of Huancavelica behind but original enough to make a day of it. Within ten minutes of leaving Huancavelica, the taxi turns off to the right and dips along an unpaved road. The track hugs the mountainside. Large birds of prey float overhead. Cattle graze in yellow fields cordoned off by stone fences. The river water looks deceptively clean and fresh. Rosalinda and I jump in the collective taxi at the noisy and scummy bus depot in Huancavelica. Just two minutes later, the final third and fourth passengers arrive. Collective taxis only leave when full, meaning it could be a quick wait or it ... read more

I once thought that those who contract altitude sickness were simply doing something wrong. They didn’t take the proper precautions. They were not employing the proper breathing techniques to get enough oxygen into their system. I was sure if I concentrated enough and took very deep breaths this surely would not happen to me. Rather it would be the other passengers who would start to sway and feel ill on the morning bus ride to Huancayo. It would take me over a high range of the Andes. I have rarely encountered motion sickness, so there was nothing to worry about. Motion sickness and altitude sickness are nearly the same, right? The highway from Lima to Huancayo begins to seriously incline after Chosica. The climb is not as if the bus were pushing its way up a ... read more

Foreign tourists safely roam in the midst of the bright lights of Miraflores. They’re in a comfort zone. The posh coastal district of Lima calls them to what is achingly familiar. Need a pair of shoes? There is Payless. Don’t like the powdery dust that passes for instant coffee at your guesthouse? Then pick up a double mocha flat cinnamon decaffeinated latte with an imported caramel twist at Starbuck’s. Hungry? Kentucky Fried Chicken is right around the corner. Miraflores glistens with casinos, high rise apartments, and terribly beautiful women. It is where most non-Peruvian tourists come to enjoy the nightlife in Peru without having to plan for anything, including their safety. Circling the tastefully manicured centerpiece of the floral trimmed Parque Kennedy once, even I have let my guard down for the first time in Lima. ... read more

It is a city where I have never been, but one with which I am all too familiar. Lima does not wake up gently. Dawn brings about a concert of revving diesel engines, incessantly piercing jackhammers, and overly sensitive car alarms. Overstuffed minivans wobble as they race through intersections lacking stop signs, traffic lights, or a traffic officer. The limeño version of the classic scene of a golden retriever taking in the breeze out the passenger window differs. In place of the canine, it is one of ticket agents protruding his neck out to scream at pedestrians to see if they too wish to subject themselves to several minutes in a contorted position among new friends. Some passengers lean over the side in order to catch a breath of the solid exhaust particles wafting in the ... read more

It was a coin flip between Tasmania and Darwin, perhaps even Cairns. In place of parasols, sunscreen and holidaymakers poolside, I have opted for drizzly, pastoral, and off the radar screen. I have to congratulate myself for choosing so wisely. It’s hard to put a finger on it, but I’ve hit my stride in Tasmania. Those familiar ties are back to signal the winter stages of my brief Australian excursion. Every now and then a bitter, liquid film smothers my tongue, another reminder that the days are waning and this is my last stop. I question if I should have foregone the mainland entirely and dedicated more time poking about the perilously narrow country lanes that cut through sheep farms of the Midlands and the low but craggy peaks of the untamed Southwest. Tasmania is no ... read more