The Patchamamas in Peru

The festive season in Peru is not an obvious choice, but it turned out to be an amazing one. I left cold and dreary London on the 24th of December for a brief stop in Miami, before continuing my journey to Lima to meet up with Roz.

Upon arrival, we met Paul (an Aussie chap from Cairns, now mingling with the Chinese in Shanghai) who was one of the other 3 people who was to form our close knit little group for the next 12 days. We’d all organized a transfer with Geckos, but it turned out to be a taxi ride with a chancer who thought he’d try his luck with the Gringos. He tried every trick in the book, but unfortunately for him we’d all experienced it before. He initially tried to get us to pay for the taxi again, then pulled up at a gas station and tried to get us to pay for fuel. When we refused, he headed out onto a darkened seaside road and repeatedly stalled his car in an effort to fake running out of gas. When our only reaction was to call the hotel and ask them to talk some sense into him in Spanish, he eventually pulled into a gas station, dutifully paid for his own petrol and then drove like Schumi on speed to the hotel. The adventure had therefore already started half an hour into being in Peru. But then again, you don’t go to Peru for anything but.

The next day being Christmas day, Paul, Roz and I set out to explore the streets of Lima and stumbled upon the delightful seaside restaurants. Christmas lunch was spent overlooking the Pacific and sipping Pisco Sours. Later that day, we met Claire and Anthony (an couple from Sydney), who completed our ‘family’ of five. We bonded over a bottle of Rose in the hotel reception while awaiting our guide for the tour briefing.

To be completed...