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Oakland Harbour Bridge
Seen from the Port Authority Building The plane touched down in Lima International Airport yesterday at about 3pm, and stumbling into the sunshine, missing about 12 hours sleep and with the United States thousands of miles (and two flights) behind us, AJ and I hopped into a taxi and headed into town, surrounded by honking horns and gridlocked traffic, the sound of Peruvian traditional music pummeling our ears through the speakers of the taxi, the mumblings of Latin American Spanish all around us.
Peru is a monster in itself, an alien country hinted at by the immigrant culture in California and Texas but presented there in a diluted form. We realised the phrasebook we´d brought with us would be a useful commodity when it became clear on the plane that without it we couldn´t complete the immigration form. There has been no pandering to tourists down here so far - we used basic phrases to get a taxi to Hostal Iquique where the staff speak no English, and found ourselves using hand motions to pay and get to our room to crash. Quite a culture shock, but one that we´d been waiting for, and as Andrew put it later as we sat down with a couple
There´s no place like it...
...me and AJ reunited in LA! of beers in a quiet bar on the other side of the world, its like China would have been if we´d been a bit more prepared for it.
When he said it it seemed to make sense - when we arrived in China we were untravelled. Family holidays and jaunts to Berlin didn´´t count. AJ´s trip to Serbia was like a warm up for him but neither of us were prepared for the experience we had in China, and in retrospect, while at the time it was cold and dank and we were homesick and getting used to being on the road, it was an incredible experience. Peru, I imagine, is how China would have been if we´d acclimatized to travelling beforehand.
I left Seattle all that time ago on an early morning train, riding the bus from my hostel to the King Street Station and jumping on the 24 hour train ride to San Fran. This meant going overnight, which would have been less of a problem if the train wasn´t packed, which meant my routine of hogging two seats to get some kip would be unrealistic. Not a problem, as I spent much of the trip
in the observation car, playing cards with a couple of Canadian girls and a guy from Salem going to a wedding in Sacramento, but when it did come time for some sleep, I discovered that Amtrak had once again screwed me over by giving my seat away.
Great.
We hit Emeryville at 8 the next morning, still feeling groggy from my night in the observation car asleep under one of the tables. It was like having a hangover but without the night out to have enjoyed. A bus took us over the Oakland Bay Bridge, and in the distance, shrouded in fog, I could see the Golden Gate Bridge and the imposing figure of "The Rock" - Alcatraz.
The weather was appauling. Grim, grey skies and drizzly rain, and unfortunately that was how San Francisco remained for the duration of my stay. Sadly, this made a trip to Alcatraz impractical and an upclose visit to the Golden Gate bridge pointless, as most days it was invisible in the thick layers of fog that covered the bay all day.
Fisherman´s Wharf was pretty cool to hang out in though, wandering in and out of souvenir shops and
The Rock
Alcatraz shrouded in fog... enjoying the smells of the restaurants though I couldn´t afford to go inside. I met up with the Worthing boys I´d first met in New York who were checking out San Fran themselves, and went with them on their last day to an area of Market Street near the Golden Gate park, which stretched for about a mile with thrift shops and specialty markets, which was a pretty awesome day out. Most nights we chilled at their hostel, which was a bit more relaxed than the uptight San Francisico YHA, who required a pass just to go inside, and who on one occasion were really rude when I stepped outside to get my bags from the locker room next door and didn´t show my pass coming back in. Assuming that my 20 second absence was short enough for them to remember me, especially as I had literally just checked in (foolish me, eh?) the guy at the desk (who had checked me in 30 seconds before) was incensed that I didn´t display my pass upon entry...
A few days later found me back in Los Angeles, stepping off the train at Union Station, where unsurprisingly the weather was lovely,
Fishernan´s Grotto
San Fran´s apparent major industry with a warm evening meeting me after 5 days of cold and rain. I caught a cab back to the house of Mr Nick Wayne, who greeted me with a cooked meal, legend he is, and a comfy bed, which lacked the dorm-room "benefits" of rude Koreans who, despite knowing you were trying to sleep at 1am with the lights turned off wander in, switch everything on, sing to themselves and brush their teeth with the faucet on full blast. It was a real shame to be home in LA again, I can say that for sure...
The week flew by with scattered days of helping at the store and sleeping late and doing nothing during the day. The sun was out and it was boiling every day, feeling like a proper holiday once again, and I watched as the days rolled by and I waited for Andrew to turn up at LAX to begin our last leg to Peru.
That day came all too quickly, and I was up at 5am, rising with the sun and getting a cab to Terminal 4 of LAX, where I found AJ and his newly grown beard waiting for me. We
Union Square
Union Square at Night headed back into town and grabbed some breakfast, dropped our stuff at Nicks and then eventually went out to Hollywood to meet a bloke AJ had met in Fiji who purported to be a filmic guy who lived in Hollywood.
He wasn´t lying - Stephen Tolkin is the owner of a fantastic home in the Hollywood Hills, a couple of blocks up from Hollywood Blvd (home of Grauman´s Chinese and the famous Walk of Fame. We spent the day with Stephen, who as well as taking us to a great vantage point (the closest you can legally get to the Hollywood sign) treated us to an Angelino lunch, tasting all the great food Mexican Immigration has to offer. To end an awesome day we went for sushi with Nick and Aay, who dropped us off at the airport and with a hearty farewell left us to our airport ordeal.
Sitting around for 6 hours is never fun, especially not when you´ve been up since 5, but it wasn´t long before we were sat on the Copa Airlines flight to Panama, grabbing bits and pieces of disconnected sleep.
So there we are! I´m sat now in the
Cables on Powell
San Francisico´s main tourist pull Hostal Iquique, getting stuff ready to hop on the MiniBus service that´ll take us to our meeting point for our GAP Adventures tour to the city of Cuzco and eventually Machu Picchu. Can´t wait! It´s good to be travelling with AJ again, can´t say I haven´t missed him for the last couple of months, and the atmosphere of the place has a really cool spirit to it, like something out of a classic adventure film, like Sirrocco, or even Casablanca.
If Casablanca was set in Peru. CasabLima?
Possibly for the last time abroad, peace out from Peru and LTYM
xxx
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