Lima

The whole business of actually flying to Lima has to rank among the top 3 most stressful journeys I’ve ever done. Most of that stress originated from the fact I had to transfer via Miami – and for reasons I don’t fully understand the United States doesn’t appear to recognise the concept of allowing passengers to remain “airside” while transiting internationally and insists all passengers have to clear US immigration and customs before proceeding to international connections. Which of course meant I had to apply for an ESTA, and British Airways had to check, before allowing me to board my flight at Heathrow, that my visa(s) for my intended journey were all in order.

Well the ESTA was all in order but we had a maddening “computer says not really sure” issue over whether or not I needed a visa for Peru. I had already checked this weeks ago and knew I didn’t (British passport holders can enter without a visa for up to 90 days if the purpose of the visit is tourism), but the BA check-in assistant was not willing to take my word for it. Nor would she accept the written word of the UK government travel website which I kept trying to show her. Instead she insisted on ringing 3 different colleagues until one of them finally assured her that I did not need a visa and she finally agreed to help me tag my one check in bag all the way through to Lima (with a reassuringly bright “transit” label on indicating I would not need to collect and re-check the bag in Miami).

All then proceeded swimmingly with the flight to Miami taking off on time – but hiccup number 2 came just as we were starting our approach into Miami when the captain announced he’d been asked by Miami Air Traffic Control to circle for up to an hour as there was a storm incoming and they wouldn’t give us permission to land yet. With only 3 hours available to make my connection at Miami, the prospect of an hour’s delay on landing was bad enough- but even worse was when the captain suggested we may have to look at “other options” (aka diversion to another airport) if the delay stretched to more than an hour. According to the gentleman sat next to me, who lives in Miami, diversion to Atlanta is fairly common during Miami’s storm season, which apparently we were catching the tail end of.

Thankfully whatever storm had caused the alarm was brief and we were shortly given the all clear to land – eventually landing only 30 minutes late. But then we hit the absolute nightmare that is Miami immigration hall, with a queue that snaked round as far as the eye could see and moved at glacial pace.

Another lady on the flight from Heathrow was also trying to make the same connection to Lima – she was a journalist flying to Lima to cover the Para Sports World Championship shooting taking place this week. Thankfully we both eventually got through the immigration queue and then had to hike to what felt like the furthest point of the airport – with another slow-moving queue for security – to find the Lima flight. We made it to the gate just as the plane was starting to board.

The flight to Lima was, thankfully, uneventful and I could have cried tears of joy to be greeted by an almost empty immigration hall – I walked straight up to the desk, had a very cheerful conversation with the immigration agent about my plans, and was welcomed into the country. From the immigration desk you have to walk through a duty free shopping area to get to the baggage claim area – the duty free shop was blasting out salsa music which only enhanced my sudden holiday mood!

My suitcase arrived within 10 minutes and I walked out into the arrivals hall, straight up to one of the taxi kiosks that I had read would be available, and was in a taxi 5 minutes later. Payment was upfront by credit card so no worries about metered fares or local cash (which I didn’t yet have). The driver put the hotel address into Google Maps and off we went – into the surprisingly busy Lima traffic (it was just after 11pm by this stage and the traffic was absolutely bumper to bumper). It probably took about 40 minutes to get to the hotel – I was so busy taking in the lights and the bustle that I wasn’t really paying attention.

The hotel is lovely – situated in Miraflores, one of the more popular tourist suburbs, the decor is cheerful, the room is spacious, the bed is comfortable and the shower turned out to be very good indeed!

After a restless few hours’ sleep I got up and went out to look for a cash machine so I could get some cash. Then returned to the hotel for breakfast and then headed out in search of the Parque Del Amour which I’d seen pictures of and which I knew was nearby. Sadly the persistent drizzle and gloomy skies made the park less inspiring than I had anticipated – I could see plenty of surfers in the water below but couldn’t bring myself to take pictures of the grey ocean!

I had booked to join a walking tour at 10am and it was still only 8.30 so after a stop for a (very good) coffee I nipped back to the hotel to freshen up before heading out again.

A few photos from the walking tour – this was based in the historic centre which we reached via the public metro bus with our guide explaining how the system works.

The walking tour ended at a little bar where we were encouraged to try four different varieties of pisco (all delicious) and then we all went our separate ways.

Our guide had pointed out a street that he said had restaurants which are good value for money and that serve traditional Peruvian food, so I gravitated back there, and was quickly ushered to a table by an enthusiastic waiter who pointed out the very reasonably price set menu with two courses for 15 soles (about £3.50) and assured me that although it was all in Spanish he would bring me another menu with English translations.

Well the second menu arrived as promised – with pictures of various items – but try as I might I could not match up the items on the menu to those on the offered set menu. I literally had no idea what any of the items were. I did, however, see there was a more expensive set menu available for 30 soles, which included a ceviche starter and a lomo saltado main. Those I did recognise- and I love ceviche – so settled for that.

Just as I had finally placed my order, Jose, the guide from the tour, turned up, saw I was alone and asked if I minded if he joined me. He actually was already sitting down before I could answer but the waiter came straight away to take his order and he turned out to be charming company. A few minutes later another tourist who had been on the walking tour arrived and was seated at a table nearby, and I then spotted a French gentleman who had also been in our tour group, sat at another table! Clearly this restaurant does well out of tour groups!

I had initially booked to do a second walking tour in the afternoon at Barranco but after the morning tour I was feeling a bit “toured out” (I really don’t like standing around being told history and long anecdotes about what I’m looking at). I was also longing to just head back to the hotel for a bit of a rest as my jet lag was starting to catch up with me. So I begged off from the tour but took the opportunity to head back to Miraflores with Jose as he was also heading that way, and it allowed me to just give him the money for the metro bus and have him use his card to swipe me through the ticket machine rather than me having to buy my own rechargeable card.

After an hour back at the hotel the temptation to lie down was becoming a bit too strong so I forced myself back outside and had a leisurely stroll, alone, to Barranco and back. I’ll never know if I saw all the sights the tour would have gone to but it suited me to do my own thing.