Friday, September 16, 2005
DAY 10: Peru
Ok, so its my turn to update the blog (Meridith) and boy what an update it will be. To say the least, it´s been a very exciting past few days. For those weak of heart... you have been warned.
First of all, we should be in the air on the way to Sao Paulo, Brazil right now, but seeing as how Leslie and I were unaware of the fact that having a ¨confirmed¨ ticket for a flight does not actually equate with having a seat, we instead are being put up in a very nice hotel back in Lima and will be trying our luck at actually sitting in our ¨confirmed¨ seats on the plane again tomorrow. I can´t really complain however, seeing as how we just had a three-course lunch and are using the internet for free...
Well, to go back from where we left off... We arrived in Lima a few days ago to realize that Leslie´s friend Lauren has the most amazing ex-pat set-up here in Lima. On the top floor of a highrise overlooking the beach, Lauren and her two roommates had an unbelieveable apartment (Leslie did make a reference to ¨Cribs¨ while describing it). Their balcony, consisting of half the entire roof, had awesome views of the coast and the city of Lima, definitely picture-worthy.
The next day, Leslie, John, and I set out on a day trip for Huacachina, a desert oasis, about four hours outside of Lima by bus. We caught the bus at 7am (so we could return in time to spend the evening with Lauren back in Lima) and were on our merry way, anticipating the dune buggy tours and sandboarding experiences that awaited us there. About two hours into the trip we stopped for a rest stop on the side of the road. An hour later, wondering why this appeared to be the longest rest stop in recorded history, I asked my Peruvian neighbor when we would be continuing on. (I just knew that as soon as I stepped off, the bus would continue on without me.) After much of his gesturing and my broken Spanish and a little field trip off the bus, I learned that there was actually a protest going on. Local construction workers who had been laid off were blocking off a section of the road and had thus stopped all traffic, apparently starting with the bus in front of ours. A few hours later, we were still stranded, Leslie was getting more desperate to find a not totally-disgusting bathroom, and people were becoming more disgruntled. When Leslie finally got the nerve up to continue the search for a public restroom, people watching the protest suddenly turned and started running back to the buses. Good news... we were going to be moving! Leslie came running back (her toilet attempts unsuccessful) and we piled back onto the bus. But still, the bus just sat there.
Apparently it had not been good news, because the protest suddenly turned into a riot. Yes, a full-fledged riot. Black smoke, police in riot gear, tear gas, people throwing rocks and chasing others with sticks, the whole shabang. Meanwhile, we are watching the ebb and flow of protestors (depending on which direction the police were shooting in) from the stuffiness of our own, hopefully-airtight bus. Had the people on our own bus not been entertained by it all, calling friends on the phone, laughing as people were being dragged out of the fray, it might have caused heart palpatations of the more life-threatening variety. The tone changed a bit though, when the protestors started throwing rocks at the buses, ours included, making me reevaluate the desire to have a window seat and causing my Peruvian neighbor to call into a radio station on his cellphone to have me go on the radio to play the damsel in distress to summon more police. (I politely declined.)
Luckily for us, it eventually died down and after waiting for a semi to be moved from the middle of the road (the protestors last ditch effort to continue to block traffic), we were on our way... for another half hour until we were again stopped by protestors, having moved the demonstration down the road. This time, we were happily not as close to the action, Leslie was able to find a debateably-cleaner bathroom, and it only lasted an hour. When we finally made it to Huacachina (yes, we made it), it was almost 6:00 pm (11 hours later!) and we were in no way going to make it back to Lima that night.
To make the best of the situation, we stayed at a very sketchy hostal minus all our stuff(flashbacks to the bedbug encounter of 2000), finally got to eat (John has learned that hungry women don´t make for very good company), and met some locals (the self-proclaimed Hispanic Usher) and fellow travelers.
The next morning, it was all made worth-while with a tour of the beautiful sand dunes by buggy (yes, once again somewhat death-defying) and the mental image of Leslie trying to sit on the sandboard and go down the dune on her butt. Picture just a cloud of sand speeding down with Leslie trying desperately to crane her neck out of it. (I haven´t laughed that hard in years.) She´s still finding sand in different places.
We made it back to Lima that day in the actual 4 hours that it takes. And will now hopefully be on our way to Brazil tomorrow.
Hasta la vista...
First of all, we should be in the air on the way to Sao Paulo, Brazil right now, but seeing as how Leslie and I were unaware of the fact that having a ¨confirmed¨ ticket for a flight does not actually equate with having a seat, we instead are being put up in a very nice hotel back in Lima and will be trying our luck at actually sitting in our ¨confirmed¨ seats on the plane again tomorrow. I can´t really complain however, seeing as how we just had a three-course lunch and are using the internet for free...
Well, to go back from where we left off... We arrived in Lima a few days ago to realize that Leslie´s friend Lauren has the most amazing ex-pat set-up here in Lima. On the top floor of a highrise overlooking the beach, Lauren and her two roommates had an unbelieveable apartment (Leslie did make a reference to ¨Cribs¨ while describing it). Their balcony, consisting of half the entire roof, had awesome views of the coast and the city of Lima, definitely picture-worthy.
The next day, Leslie, John, and I set out on a day trip for Huacachina, a desert oasis, about four hours outside of Lima by bus. We caught the bus at 7am (so we could return in time to spend the evening with Lauren back in Lima) and were on our merry way, anticipating the dune buggy tours and sandboarding experiences that awaited us there. About two hours into the trip we stopped for a rest stop on the side of the road. An hour later, wondering why this appeared to be the longest rest stop in recorded history, I asked my Peruvian neighbor when we would be continuing on. (I just knew that as soon as I stepped off, the bus would continue on without me.) After much of his gesturing and my broken Spanish and a little field trip off the bus, I learned that there was actually a protest going on. Local construction workers who had been laid off were blocking off a section of the road and had thus stopped all traffic, apparently starting with the bus in front of ours. A few hours later, we were still stranded, Leslie was getting more desperate to find a not totally-disgusting bathroom, and people were becoming more disgruntled. When Leslie finally got the nerve up to continue the search for a public restroom, people watching the protest suddenly turned and started running back to the buses. Good news... we were going to be moving! Leslie came running back (her toilet attempts unsuccessful) and we piled back onto the bus. But still, the bus just sat there.
Apparently it had not been good news, because the protest suddenly turned into a riot. Yes, a full-fledged riot. Black smoke, police in riot gear, tear gas, people throwing rocks and chasing others with sticks, the whole shabang. Meanwhile, we are watching the ebb and flow of protestors (depending on which direction the police were shooting in) from the stuffiness of our own, hopefully-airtight bus. Had the people on our own bus not been entertained by it all, calling friends on the phone, laughing as people were being dragged out of the fray, it might have caused heart palpatations of the more life-threatening variety. The tone changed a bit though, when the protestors started throwing rocks at the buses, ours included, making me reevaluate the desire to have a window seat and causing my Peruvian neighbor to call into a radio station on his cellphone to have me go on the radio to play the damsel in distress to summon more police. (I politely declined.)
Luckily for us, it eventually died down and after waiting for a semi to be moved from the middle of the road (the protestors last ditch effort to continue to block traffic), we were on our way... for another half hour until we were again stopped by protestors, having moved the demonstration down the road. This time, we were happily not as close to the action, Leslie was able to find a debateably-cleaner bathroom, and it only lasted an hour. When we finally made it to Huacachina (yes, we made it), it was almost 6:00 pm (11 hours later!) and we were in no way going to make it back to Lima that night.
To make the best of the situation, we stayed at a very sketchy hostal minus all our stuff(flashbacks to the bedbug encounter of 2000), finally got to eat (John has learned that hungry women don´t make for very good company), and met some locals (the self-proclaimed Hispanic Usher) and fellow travelers.
The next morning, it was all made worth-while with a tour of the beautiful sand dunes by buggy (yes, once again somewhat death-defying) and the mental image of Leslie trying to sit on the sandboard and go down the dune on her butt. Picture just a cloud of sand speeding down with Leslie trying desperately to crane her neck out of it. (I haven´t laughed that hard in years.) She´s still finding sand in different places.
We made it back to Lima that day in the actual 4 hours that it takes. And will now hopefully be on our way to Brazil tomorrow.
Hasta la vista...
# posted by Mer and Les @ 2:27 PM 
