July 26, 2009
By the end of April I was exhausted. After my phenomenal stay on Lake Titicaca, I sailed back to the Peruvian coastal city of Puno, caught a five hour bus to Arequipa and spent four wonderful, but tiring, days there, touring the city and surrounding countryside. But, I was
overwhelmed and in visual and experiencial overload. I was surrounded by 20,000, snow-capped volcanoes, the weather were perfect: warm with a blistering, cloudless blue sky. The city center was an exceptional example of Colonial architecture (the Convent of Santa Catalina was one of the highlights of this very long trip. I spent two days in the Colca Canyon (one of the 
deepest in the world), with a great group of people, but I just didn't care anymore. (It was here, though, I had this photo snapped which one second prize in the Plattsburgh Press Republican's annual "Take the Press with you on Vacation" challenge. I really should hae one first prize!) It was time to call a halt to this trip.
So...instead of spending more time in the area and traveling on to Nazca to visit the geoglyphs there, I booked a flight to Lima where I would spend the last five days doing, essentially, as little as possible. This trip had come to an end and that was OK. I'd spent way too much time alone and I was tired of hotels and bad beds, so instead of booking myself into another hotel, I stayed my entire time in a hostel.
I'd forgotten how nice hostels can be. Thi
s one, located in the Miraflores area of Lima (an upscale neighborhood and very close to the ocean), was an old mansion that had been converted to hostel living. I was able to cook my own meals, talk to a wide variety of people, most of whom were just getting started on their journey, read and relax on the verandah. When I wanted to do something, which wasn't often, I'd explore the neighborhood, walk to the sea, or into the dirty city center. I'd seen Lima before and was satisfied with that visit. No need to see things twice.
I was quite happy to chill out. It was a long way from Buenos Aires to Lima, all done through an antipodal autumn, and I knew I'd return, so I didn't feel badly about this loss of interest.
On May 4th I spent a final day in the city, caught a taxi to the air
port and boarded a late night Air Canada flight from Lima, in mid autumn, to Toronto and onwards to Montreal, touching down to early spring. All in an overnight
By the end of April I was exhausted. After my phenomenal stay on Lake Titicaca, I sailed back to the Peruvian coastal city of Puno, caught a five hour bus to Arequipa and spent four wonderful, but tiring, days there, touring the city and surrounding countryside. But, I was
overwhelmed and in visual and experiencial overload. I was surrounded by 20,000, snow-capped volcanoes, the weather were perfect: warm with a blistering, cloudless blue sky. The city center was an exceptional example of Colonial architecture (the Convent of Santa Catalina was one of the highlights of this very long trip. I spent two days in the Colca Canyon (one of the 
deepest in the world), with a great group of people, but I just didn't care anymore. (It was here, though, I had this photo snapped which one second prize in the Plattsburgh Press Republican's annual "Take the Press with you on Vacation" challenge. I really should hae one first prize!) It was time to call a halt to this trip.So...instead of spending more time in the area and traveling on to Nazca to visit the geoglyphs there, I booked a flight to Lima where I would spend the last five days doing, essentially, as little as possible. This trip had come to an end and that was OK. I'd spent way too much time alone and I was tired of hotels and bad beds, so instead of booking myself into another hotel, I stayed my entire time in a hostel.
I'd forgotten how nice hostels can be. Thi
s one, located in the Miraflores area of Lima (an upscale neighborhood and very close to the ocean), was an old mansion that had been converted to hostel living. I was able to cook my own meals, talk to a wide variety of people, most of whom were just getting started on their journey, read and relax on the verandah. When I wanted to do something, which wasn't often, I'd explore the neighborhood, walk to the sea, or into the dirty city center. I'd seen Lima before and was satisfied with that visit. No need to see things twice.I was quite happy to chill out. It was a long way from Buenos Aires to Lima, all done through an antipodal autumn, and I knew I'd return, so I didn't feel badly about this loss of interest.
On May 4th I spent a final day in the city, caught a taxi to the air
port and boarded a late night Air Canada flight from Lima, in mid autumn, to Toronto and onwards to Montreal, touching down to early spring. All in an overnight flight!
This trip was history!
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