Midnight at the Oasis

Lima is big. Think big, then think really really big - no bigger than that.... 700km across. I haven't walked across it yet obviously, my Peruvian hero Samoel told me and that's better than google as far as I'm concerned.


Lima is cold. It's winter. I already knew it was winter but I imagined a pashmina over the shoulders type winter not, having to borrow alpaca goods to sleep at night type winter! As us Brits know, the 'summer' we had was as about as exciting as diarrhoea so you can imagine I was salivating at the bit to get my whiter than white skin out in the afternoon winter sun and work my way up to South American turbo charged spring summer. But no, it's cold and I am shamefully letting it get me down a tad. After day 4 I started to actively seek sunnier climes to pull myself out of the temporary disappointment I'd let myself slip in to. 'Haucichina' another Peruvian told me over a rather delicious lamb and rice dish I enjoyed at the Lima Cricket Club, it's in the middle of the desert, an oasis he tells me. Less than 1 minute later I'm all over it on google, images, weather, bus times - I'm booked, I'm in, I'm going.


But back to Lima. My Peruvian hero Samoel a.k.a Indiana Jones knows everything about Lima, which only makes me more confused. No one walks in Lima apparently, it's just not the done thing, but when I decide to take a walk to desperately get my bearings (I still haven't) I get about a taxi per 30 seconds stopping next to me and hooting there horn because 'no one walks in Lima' and taxis assume you need one. BUT when my Indiana Jones hails a cab he chooses them so carefully, waving some on and dismissing others, they all look exactly the same but he tells me that some are just so dodgy and will rip you off as soon as look at you. I feel like tortoise retracting back in my shell as hailing the cab is more difficult than communicating with them, I'm in and out of taxis like a fairground ride looking for 1 that might speak just a small amount of English. One things for sure, I'll be learning Spainish much sooner than I first thought, Monday infact. I can't bare the 'you fucking stupid British girl' looks any longer, this isn't marbs, this isn't Barcelona and this definitely isn't Ali Cante, if you don't speak Spanish you don't get served - love. 


'Do you want sugar with that?' no I bloody don't want sugar with that and you can take out the 3 sugars you assume I wanted when I ordered this coffee. Jeeeewiz they like sugar here, everything even the local beer is packed full of it. No wonder the women here have a rubber ring round there middle. I laugh when I see old people sitting in the street just scoffing cake, it's like afternoon tea but without the tea or the sandwiches. 


My next plan of action is finding a room for myself 180$ per month can't be bad in the best part of town Miraflores, and then getting a job. One of my biggest jaw droppers were the amount of schools here, wow. There must be a school on every street, I don't know where all the children come from but lucky me, I'm in jackpot city when it come to my chosen profession. I'm keen to start working so I can establish a routine and some friends to open up my social circle. 

But here I am in Huacachina (left), slightly burnt sitting on my 15$ a night rooms veranda writing to you and feeling great that the future is still unknown. Whatever lows will come highs and I'm positive about my adventure, proud every day that I've made the move. 



With my guardian angel on my bag (thanks Sarah) I know my jigsaw will come together:

Sand boarding tomorrow.......... And with that I'm sure another blog.

Vx