1)
Yesterday
I got up at 4:30am, having got to bed at 12:30am.
2)
On
arrival in Lima we were met by a guide and a driver who were warring with one
another in Spanish. ‘Why do all the drivers called Rubén cause me so much
trouble?’ asked the guide. Half an hour later, on arriving at our first museum
stop, she remembered to introduce herself. ‘What’s the Spanish for Fawlty
Towers?’ asked one of my clients.
3)
Having visited the archaeological museum, where
we were berated for not knowing our Mochicas from our Nazcas, and I’m ashamed
to say I got the giggles, we had lunch at what the government styled a healthy restaurant. The health was
bacteriological, not arterial.
4)
In
the sumptuous town hall in Lima’s beautiful Plaza de Armas we met Miss Peru,
squeezed into a skin-tight pink-shock frilly ball-gown and being photographed
in preparation for her trip to China to participate in the Miss World pageant.
She congratulated us on being from the country which had given the pageant to the
world.
5)
At
the San Francisco church we admired the catacombs where generations of vergers
with far too much time on their hands had sorted the bones of thousands of
faithful departed into piles of dusty skulls, femurs and tibias. Miss Peru
looked fleshy by comparison.
6)
Our
guide explained to us that she had been down in the catacombs during an
earthquake and during one of the frequent power-cuts occasioned by the
terrorism years. My clients seemed keen to leave.
7)
At
Lima airport, leaving the country was as long and protracted a process as
anywhere I’ve ever been; not quite as bad as entering Madagascar, but close.
8)
Around
seven-thirty, the boarding time for our flight, the captain admirably and
charmingly informed us that a hydraulic pump had failed on landing. Our flight
would inevitably be late.
9)
Two
hours or so later he told us, with a touch of frazzle in his voice, that the
pump could not be fixed and a new one would have to be brought from Holland the
next day. Our flight would be rescheduled twenty-four to thirty hours later.
10)
Getting
our exit from Peru legally cancelled, allocating us to hotels, restoring our
luggage to us, bussing us to our destinations and getting us fed were a hoot.
So too was the fury of some of our fellow passengers. Two elderly ladies in
wheelchairs smiled benignly, amused by the drama of it all and not a bit
flapped. I got to bed around two in the morning. What’s the Spanish for Fawlty
Towers? (In fairness to KLM and the Sheraton Hotel in Lima, this logistical migraine was dealt with as swiftly and efficiently as could be expected under the chaotic circumstances, and all my clients seem cheery. Naturetrekkers are a nice bunch.)
11)
And
now in Lima we wait. Tummies full, clean beds to laze on and black vultures on
a pylon outside. It could be far, far worse and I am enjoying not having to
know when we have to leave for our next activity.
12)
If
you’re one of my UK employers and you’re expecting me to teach a workshop for
you this week, I imagine I’ll be back soon.
