little sarah Big World

Tag: lima

Street Art in Lima, part II

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Dopeness, Personified

Out for a walk in Lima, Peru, and I come across a mural, which–as a lover of street art–peaks my interest. So I get closer…

…and closer…

…and it is just the coolest thing ever, Friends. The mural went on for about a mile, I’d say, running along the east side of Campo de Marte, the park where I went for my runs.

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Street Art in Lima, part I

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Redemption

Hey, guess what, Friends? Lima wasn’t all bad! There was lots of walking, remember? And while I walked, I ran across beautiful graffiti. Along the side of the road…

…on school buildings…

…in the park…

…and even a work in progress:

I wanted so badly to chat with these girls, but couldn’t work up the nerve. Partly because I was so lost in my solo reverie, and partly because they seemed cool as hell, and I didn’t want to be the dorky gringo tourist. Next time, though. Next time.

Lima, Peru

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The Good, The Bad, and The Hungry

So I got my alone time. A day and a half to explore Lima on my own, and parts of it were so satisfying–running in the park…

…buying trinkets and drinking fresh sugar cane juice in the artisan market…

…going for long, long walks on a dreary but not unpleasant day, just to check out the city, its people and plazas…

…admiring the architecture…

…and enjoying the city’s beauty, stopping to eat a churro or snap a photo, because I could. Because I was alone, at last.

On the other hand, Lima is also where I was snubbed by my couch surfing host, walked around for hours (literally) trying to find something to eat, and was openly sexually harassed (the ol’ ass-grab) just outside my hostel.

That was while I was on my way in just to grab my pack and catch a taxi to the airport.

I have never, in my entire life, been more ready to leave a city, more anxious to get back home. I was just done.

36 hours in Lima was more than enough. For me.

Creature Comforts

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A Room of One’s Own…in Peru

Early on in the trip I decided that I would like to finish things in comfort, or at least relative comfort–in a private hostel room. I just figured that after all the buses and taxis and jam-packed dorms and ever-changing couch surfs–not to mention constant “companionship” from B & J–I’d want some privacy and relaxation for my brief stay (1 night only) in Lima. So I booked it, weeks out.

Then I second-guessed myself, as I’ve been known to do. “I’ve spent so much money already, and why wouldn’t I want to couch surf and meet someone who could show me the best of Lima since I’m only there one night, and I am so anti-social and lame, blerg!”

So I found a couch surf (with a girl, which is rare), cancelled my reservation, and felt I’d done the right thing.

Guess what, though? My original, non-exhausted, non-panicking self was right. The couch surf turned out to be a bust. The girl wasn’t even home, and I was supposed to stay in the care of her little sister, but then lil sis had to go to class with her house keys, which meant I needed to stay in their filthy, piss-smelling apartment in a shady part of town until the older sister (my couch surfing contact) came home. Six hours.

PANIC.

You don’t need to hear about The Panic, though. Let me just say that after several frantic phone calls, emails, and a quick escape via taxi, I was able to reclaim my previously-reserved room 1900 Backpacker’s Hostel, where I spread out and relaxed to my heart’s content.

(Big sigh of relief)

Seriously, though, I was so giddy at having my own space for the first time in nearly a month that I lied down on the floor and made something like snow angels. Then I went for a long run while listening to Adele. Then I danced around my room in joy. Then I had food from a vegan restaurant (!!!) that was just down the street.

Then I watched bootlegged American movies on the hostel’s big TV, drank beer, ate snacks, and went to bed. Happy as a clam

Moral of this story? Trust yourself. Trust that you know yourself, and do as you please.