chocolate milkshakes and shivering in the park

I am back in Lima, suddenly I became aware of how in Pisco my eyes were constantly scanning the ground for obstacles, deep holes uncovered, dogs sleeping in the road, sewage and rubbish. In lima I can walk with a purpose and a speed that I had had to cast aside in Pisco.

The last morning in Pisco was spent searching for a bottle of Pisco that was finally purchased from an old lady in the main sqaure selling all manner of bottles from her small stand. She sat under a small parasole and calmly refused to accept any of my haggling knowing that local would win over gringo. However afterwards I realised that the bottle had only cost me about four pounds. It was then a trip to the police station with my friend Gary who had lost his wallett the day before. When I say police station images of a building may be conjured up, no such structure exists in the ruins of Pisco. Instead the policemen dressed like soldiers wonder around the square, based around three small garden shead sized wood huts. They use old type writters and whatever was salvaged from the wreakage sits about them, dusty riot sheilds lean against rusty filing cabinets.

My bus journey back to Lima was uneventful apart from some cavalier over taking by our driver that resulted in arriving early back into Lima. In the evening I met up with friends at a cafe. Nazzer had returned to Lima with tales of his time spent in Cuzco and Arequipa. We sat drinking coffee and chocolate all exchanging stories of our weeks apart.

It felt good to be returning to somewhere where I have friends I could quite happily spent much more time here I just need to learn some Spanish!