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I stayed in Cusco before I left, and was treated once more to a chance meeting. Just that people had said that Arequipa is a nice city, really. It was like I was in a daze — a funk — and I was strangely not enthused with the prospect of another trek, this time to the Colca canyon. It seemed to be what everybody was there to do, and it kind of put me off. I just pottered around for a few days, rather aimlessly. I did things, real things, after a couple of days of mooching and reading. Like a tour around the city — that was real effort — I had to walk around! Arequipa is quite nice, really — beautiful white walled buildings pocked like an acne sufferer due to the volcanic rock used to make them. I got invited to a meal out with some of those on the tour, to meet at seven, and promptly stood up. After waiting around for a bit see, courteous! They were celebrating, and although he urged calm and to wait for the final votes which would take a few days — it was very close , it was obvious it was a big deal. A large stage had been erected on my street to the other candidate, Keiko Fujimori also not traditionally Peruvian over the last few days, with big speakers and a poster. As I returned, a couple of blokes were morosely packing everything away. From the few people I managed to speak to about it, and the fewer who proffered an opinion strange, considering its against the law not to vote , Kuczynski was deemed preferable, if not loved. A safer pair of hands, as it were. Springs echoes of back home, I guess. Up relatively early the next day, I actually had something to do. Something I wanted to do, strangely enough. A cooking class. Now those of you who know me may question the necessity of such a frivolous activity — I learnt to make pasta long ago, and what more do I actually need? So I wandered down, arriving with the air of an expert chef, clad in shorts of course. The fancy hat and apron fit just right, too, as if it was always meant to be. British Bake Off style, my little group and I a Swiss and four Belgians worked under a little tent in a beautiful sunny courtyard. Fortunately for me, not British Bake Off style, no one got voted out, and my spilling of some of the meat on the floor went unchastised. A good job these Belgians were veggies. It was all, actually, great fun. Between the six of us, things got done pretty quickly, I never had to put any thought into timings not my strongest suit , and I got to cut pretty shapes into food. Who knew you could make stars out of olives? By the end, we had created beautiful rocoto relleno and pastel de papas, and it was pretty tasty, too! The Belgians and I headed off to the museum afterward. Not just any museum though, but the current resting place of Juanita, the Ice Maiden. Sacrificed to the Gods by the Incas back in the 15th century, atop Mount Ampato the largest mountain in the vicinity , she was quickly entombed in ice. This caused her to be remarkably well preserved, to the extent that when she was found in , she actually had possessed real skin, organs and blood. Only her face, exposed to the sun following thawing just before she was found, was dehydrated. Here, in Arequipa, you can see perhaps the best preserved pre-Columbian body in the world. Interesting, but creepy. Time for one last thing. Special dinner, though. Conventionally referred to, in English, as guinea pig. Four of us went out Alana and Fabio joining us and three ate cuy. Alana told us stories of having them as pets, showed us pictures of live ones and even imitated their squeaking noises, but we were unaffected and undeterred. This was business, and we got down to work. It tastes fine like chicken?! However, the hilarity of eating it is worth its weight in gold. My mum always said not to play with my food…. All of a sudden I realised time had crept up on me, and I had to leave. He duly did, thankfully, and I arrived just in time for the bus, if slightly sweatier and more panicked than before. Queue a slightly uncomfortable journey, as we wound around the mountains. Bend after bend after bend after…. However there were lots of places to eat very important for me , the public areas seemed nice and sometimes full of cats and plenty of stuff seemed to be going on. That though, was Miraflores, the unabashed touristic and very much rich part of town. I exited this area only once during my time, mainly due to the fact that the city is humongous, and a bit of a pain in the arse to get around. Just the one route, as well. Anyone not living on the line is just a bit screwed. Nevertheless, I did get away, and bobbed my way into the centre of town. Now, for the sake of the guaranteed full disclosure I use here at my discretion, obviously , I shall reveal that I did so on a city tour. This was a mistake. City tours are normally performed by interesting and enthusiastic people, and give the most underwhelming places a silver lining. The only time he raised his voice over a whisper was when he wanted us to take group photos, in what seemed like a strange fetish. Two hours of my life I will never get back. My fellow tour revolvers and I went to eat as soon as we escaped, and I got go see England go up against Russia. By the time I got back to the hostel, I was able to read exactly where England screwed up to end in a draw. Apparently there are interesting catacombs underneath here. I was left alone for the evening, so did what I do best in these circumstances. No, definitely not that. Or that. No, I went to the cinema. As usual, I left it pretty late, and it took me a bit to find my way through the maze of boutique shops. The Larcomar. Trying to think back, I think that was it for my stay in Lima. I did spend another day eating food and chatting to people, but avoided anything requiring real effort. Having failed to convince anyone to come along with me, I set off the next day to Trujillo — on the day bus for a change. Your email address will not be published. Save my name, email, and site URL in my browser for next time I post a comment. Here you will find the hopefully up to date adventures of the incredibly handsome pioneering explorer, Doug. As modest as he is wise, as awesome as he is brave, Doug will endeavor to recite the tales of his travels with utmost accuracy. No embellishment whatsoever. Saturday 11th June — I stayed in Cusco before I left, and was treated once more to a chance meeting. The white city of Arequipa. Somewhere in the city. A pretty place. Looking pretty despondent now. Playing with fire. Bake Off pose perfected. Cuy, in all its glory. Alana, Terry, and a beheaded guinea pig. Mmm…tasty sandwiches. A bit of salsa in the park. More Tales. About Doug Here you will find the hopefully up to date adventures of the incredibly handsome pioneering explorer, Doug. The Cop Out. Riding a Wave of History. Leave a Reply Cancel reply Your email address will not be published. Enter your email address if you're really intent on receiving more awesome adventure announcements. Walking in Wuyishan. I Had a Hair Cut! Don't Feed the Coatis! Coffee and Cocaine. King Kaieteur and other Kicks. The Wrong Way Round. A Revelation of Sorts. Looking Forward to Fuzhou.

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Pucon where can I buy cocaine

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Pucon where can I buy cocaine