Lobitos, Peru
A few of you may have caught my last post (please excuse my weak attempt at being enigmatic there). “Some airport somewhere” (if you even care at this point), happened to be LAS; Mccarran International Airport in Las Vegas. About a dozen hours deep into almost exactly three solid days of traveling back down south, the photo resembles something between a mug shot and a PSA for sleep deprivation.
My master plan was to maintain a little
ambiguity about my current whereabouts until I finished off the pile of
half-finished posts about Chile that have been collecting dust in my drafts
folder. After that, I would release the
news that SURPRISE, I live in Peru now.
Unfortunately, I frankly just don’t have the patience for that and I’m
terrible at keeping secrets.
In fact, I’m amazed that I was actually
able to keep my last minute trip to the states a surprise from my family for as
long as I did. I freaked the ba’jesus
out of my sister and dad during two separate but equally wonderful surprise
attacks and made a few, less successful, attempts to surprise my friends, who
already had their suspicions about me coming up.
The ten days at home were (at the risk of sounding cliché) just what the
doctor ordered. Though chaotic and
exhausting, I can’t even articulate how wonderful it was to have the time with
Jeff and to see so many fabulous people that I have been missing so much.
My journey started with a 5.5-hour bus from Iquique to Arica, followed by a quick 45-minute taxi across the border at Tacna and a (not-so-quick) twenty-hour bus to Lima (23 hours). At the Cruz del Sur station, I touched base with a couch surfer friend in Mira Flores and caught a taxi straight to his house for a (much needed) shower and some lunch. He showed me around the neighborhood a bit (beautiful by the way) and I set off for an unnecessarily long triple-layover flight through Huston, Vegas and, finally, LA.
My journey started with a 5.5-hour bus from Iquique to Arica, followed by a quick 45-minute taxi across the border at Tacna and a (not-so-quick) twenty-hour bus to Lima (23 hours). At the Cruz del Sur station, I touched base with a couch surfer friend in Mira Flores and caught a taxi straight to his house for a (much needed) shower and some lunch. He showed me around the neighborhood a bit (beautiful by the way) and I set off for an unnecessarily long triple-layover flight through Huston, Vegas and, finally, LA.
After my awesome little ten-day vay-cay, I retraced
my steps back through LA, Vegas and Huston.
However, instead of busing back down south to Chile upon my arrival to
Lima, I spent one night there before embarking on a different twenty-hour
busing adventure (note the sarcasm in my voice). Hopefully my last all-day bus ride for a
while, this trip brought me to Talara.
Once there, a “moto” (motercycle with a little car for passengers built around it) carried me to a “combi” (a van used for transfers
between Talara and Lobitos) where my luggage was tied to the roof while I
crammed myself inside with fifteen Peruvians.
Twenty minutes down a dusty desert road and I was finally home.
Now I’ve been in Lobitos for about two
weeks. Things have been a bit rocky here and there but overall, I am having a wonderful time. I feel like there are a million and one things I want to update you on but, frankly, my blogging stamana is down after a few weeks of not writing and I feel a little overwhelmed. Instead, I will just try to capture the highlights with this thirty word summary and elaborate later....
Waves.
Water.
Water.
Thorns.
Girls.
Calluses.
Calluses.
Mosquitos.
Ceviche.
Cera.
Rum.
Coke.
Shortcut.
Vomit.
ER.
Mermaid Cast.
Sunsets.
Chifles.
Mocos.
Miss Alicia.
Una Blusa Lila.
Hello, Hello, Hello.
¿Puedo Salir A Toser?
