Hola!

Lima... what can I say? Well, it smells. At times acrimonious. At times the street barbecues smelt divine. And now and then it just smelt of wee. And I mean really smelt of wee. I mean I've been in urinals that have smelt less of wee. I mean really inside the urinals! The noise is intense and unrelenting. I've heard horror stories of Deli and Bangkok and Cairo which I'm sure will outweigh what I've experienced greatly, but to say that I'm outside of my comfort zone of husstly-bustly European cities is an understatement.

The flight was long, the taxi ride was only made bearable/entertaining by the fact that Grace should have been in a sports bra to protect her from the incredibly bumpy roads and the best thing about the shops was the fact that the Dissaranno was kept in a locked cabinet... Apparently Grace's parents tipped the local Polica off that we were on are way!

But soon after we arrived we located the local eateries and few Cusquena's later (the local brew) and all of a sudden the air is warm, the city is lively and the people seem so happy that you are making dreadful attempts to communicate en terrible espanol.

But Lima's charms were short lived... It's hangovers were not and we're ecstatic to be on our way to Nazca to check out it's mystical line in the ground.

Ciao!

Rhys