Friday, May 25, 2012

Lima, Peru and an interesting drive home - May 25


We arrived in Callao, Peru this morning about 7:00 am.  When I rolled out of bed at 6:30, I gingerly opened the curtains just a smidge to make sure I didn’t have very close neighbors to witness me in my dishabille.   I made that mistake on my first port for the Fall 2007 voyage and wasn’t keen to repeat the experience.  I’m sure the dock workers still haven’t recuperated from it either.
I quickly got dressed and made my way to the bow on the top deck to watch the ship make its way to the berth.  It was very gray and misty and we docked with freight ships so nothing really glamorous to share there.  Nonetheless, it was still a thrill to be in our first port of call with the promise of a new adventure to look forward to.

Anne and I had made plans to spend the day in Lima with a friend of a friend – a well-known, highly respected journalist who agreed to hosts two women he’d never met before - poor man.  So, after we attended a diplomatic briefing from the US Embassy, we received our passports and were given the clearance to leave the ship.  We only made it two feet off the gangway when we stopped to admire Peruvian children dancing for us.  Very colorful and very fun.  We eventually tore ourselves away and got a taxi to drive us from Callao to Lima which was about 45 minutes away.  The drive into the city was fascinating and I started giving myself whiplash from swiveling my head from one side to the other so quickly so that I wouldn’t miss any of the sights.

We soon arrived at the address (after getting a bit lost and circling the block a couple of times), and were ushered into the extremely nice apartment of Mirko Lauer.   He introduced his son, Adrian, and wife, Jessica, and told us what he had planned for the day.  He needed to work that morning so his son was going to be our chauffeur and take us to see some other parts of the city as well as some ruins, Pachacamac (you're going to have to Google that one).

Adrian was a very personable young man, a junior in college studying Political Science who did his best to be a tour guide to us.  It was fascinating to see the different neighborhoods of Lima and we stopped several times to get better photos and take a closer look at some of the churches.  We eventually made our way to the ruins and spent ½ hour climbing around and enjoying the spectacular view.

We then made our way back to the apartment where Mirko and Jessica had lunch ready for us – scallops, fish, potatoes and salad.  Everybody in my family knows that I am not a lover of anything that comes from the sea unless it is drenched in ketchup but I put my game face on and made lots of yummy noises and was appropriately appreciative of their generosity and kindness.

After lunch, Mirko and Jessica took us for a drive to the historic Colonial section of the city.  Unfortunately, Friday afternoon traffic was miserable so it was a lot of stop and go.  But I got such a kick out of Mirko's driving because when he had an opening, he would pound on the gas petal and take off like a bat out of hell.  Apparently, Jessica was quite used to this because a nanosecond before he would do so, she would grab for the bar above the door and wouldn’t let go until he was stopped again. 

We saw some amazing architecture and areas of the city and I got some wild photos of the buildings.  By the time the interesting architecture arrived, traffic had cleared so Mirko was going as fast as possible so a lot of these buildings whizzed by at a high rate of speed.  Drive by photography isn't something that I normally practice so I'm astonished I got anything useful.

We eventually drove back to the apartment around 5:30 and Anne and I regretfully told Mirko and Jessica that we needed to make our way back to the ship.  Mirko called a taxi for us - but it had to be the right taxi because there are a lot of unscrupulous drivers in Lima.  It took over an hour for the taxi driver to arrive.  By that time Jessica had left to take a nap and Mirko was a host extraordinaire entertaining us the entire time even though it was obvious he needed a nap too.  We finally said goodbye to him and climbed into the taxi for a very interesting drive home.

It took us a while to clear the traffic in the city but eventually we were on the highway and zooming back towards Callao and our ship.  Things started to go horribly wrong when we got close to the port and the driver turned down a road that was bumper to bumper 18-wheelers and going absolutely nowhere.  We were totally boxed in when the driver got out to figure out if we were even on the right road - we weren't.  Anne and I remained in the back seat wondering if our bodies would ever be found while the driver negotiated with all of the truck drivers around us to either back up or pull forward the 6" they had left with the bumpers in front/back of them.  He managed to eke our just enough space to get us the hell out of Dodge.  That was some magnificent negotiating and driving!

Of course, he was talking to us in Spanish the entire time trying valiantly to figure out just where we were supposed to go, but my non-existent Spanish and Anne's smattering of Spanish were of no use.  He then took us to the terminal where the cruise ships dock but we had landed amongst the cargo ships so we were turned away from that gate.  The driver gamely herded us back into the taxi and took us to one more stop which turned out to be the mecca.

In the meantime, I had started to dig through my purse for my passport and COULD NOT FIND IT!!!!  I'll spare you all of the many and varied swear words racing through my brain as I frantically searched for it.  I was completely freaking out and Anne was heroic in trying to calm me down from my panic.  I spent five very long minutes desperately trying to figure out where I had last left my passport and could only hope that it was in my cabin where it wouldn't do a freaking bit of good.  By the time we arrive at the last, and correct, gate, I had settled down into a sort of dazed acceptance that I was screwed.  That's when I finally remembered that I was wearing the money belt around my waist and had put my passport in there!  I AM A MORON!  It's official.  There is absolutely no denying it.  However, I was a very relieved and grateful moron that I didn't care just how stupid I had been.  

Anne and I finally made it through the gate and gave the most dedicated taxi driver ever a big tip.  He totally deserved that along with a big, squishy kiss but I managed to control myself.  We were soon delivered to our ship via shuttle and nothing had ever looked so good!

We are off to Machu Picchu for Saturday and Sunday.  Guess where I'll be storing my passport?  I'll give you two guesses.  See you on Sunday.

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