Day 1: Miraflores

Amazingly, we have little/no visual documentation of this day. I have no idea why. Perhaps we were too tired? Bewildered?

Underwhelmed is probably closer to the truth.

I didn't think I had any expectations for Miraflores, the tourist district of Lima, but I must have, because I just wasn't impressed. Still tainted from our 5 am drive through shanty towns, we weren't quite sure what to think of this place. The buildings were colorful. The streets were clean-er. But was this a place of endless excitement for visitors?

The walk from our sleep n' go stay at Lion Backpacker over to B&B Tradiciones was far shorter (and less sketchy) than we remember from our cab ride the previous night. Down a dingy street, over the freeway (you could almost feel the exhaust seeping through your skin), onto a nicer street, and across a small, green little park...things seemed to be improving.

However, despite our reservation, Tradiciones did not have space for us. Lesson #1: be wary of using Travelocity to reserve a room in someone's house. Apparently Angelo (the owner) has the system take the reservation regardless, but the information is not received immediately. He later figures out if there is space. If not, he sends you to a new hotel nearby for the same price.

But that probably gives you the wrong impression. He's the nicest guy ever. And it's true what the TripAdvisor reviews say, you do feel like a part of his family (especially when wrestling the computer away from his daughter's Facebooking). He spent the better part of the early afternoon telling us where to go, making sure we got a room at the other hotel, drawing out maps, and suggesting not only restaurants, but also specific dishes.

Our patient listening paid off though, when after waiting over an hour to get a table at Punto Azul (sunday lunch is their busiest meal of the week, but we did get to make some Peruvian friends...which is easy when you tell people you are on your "luna de miel") we ate the fantastic Peruvian specialty: ceviche.

(image courtesy of Luis Delboy by way of Don Lucho)

Think raw fish (usually King Fish or Sea Bass), marinated in lemon and lime juice, served with raw onions and small bits of tiny chili peppers. It nearly blew me away. Awesome. We also had some chicha morada (a sweet juice made from purple corn?!?), and a creamy fish dish that isn't worth mentioning.

We walked down towards the ocean, stopping on a park atop the cliffs overlooking the ocean to toss the frisbee around. Most people there hadn't seen one before...making us the subject of many a furtive glance. One old man approached, asking about it...but then ended up being a guy who sold these little tiny Peruvian dolls made out of thread. We felt bad enough to buy them from him, but would run into many more (spanning all age ranges) of his kind throughout the trip.

The very western mall carved into the cliffs seemed like it was a big attraction in the area. Meh.

Further north along the coast is Parque del Amor (ie. "Love Park"), which lived up to it's name in every sense of the word. Beneath a giant statue of lovers embracing passionately were...many real life couples...embracing. Passionately. Nothing beyond some good ol' making out, but we were amused nonetheless. The nearby clearing served as a staging ground for a para-gliding operation, new chutes launching into the air seemingly ever other minute.

We walked back through Kennedy Park, the social center for Miraflores. Surrounded by restaurants, shops, and the occasional important colonial building, it was jam packed with locals out for an early evening stroll, taking in the photography exibit, and/or waiting around for something which was bound to happen.

We're not sure what, because it never happened.

Heading back, we passed through the "Indian Market", which is a bunch of fancy stalls all trying to appear traditional and handmade, but all selling the same stuff (including many exact duplicates of the street artwork we had been so impressed with moments earlier). Throughout the trip we would run into well dressed men on the street with leather portfolios of artwork, often with a "We accept VISA" sticker slapped on the outside. In fact, the Indian Market itself seemed to be sponsored by VISA...

We cobbled together a dinner from random items at the supermarket (Wongs, a giant, uber-fancy, better-than-western-supermarkets supermarket), including tasty bread which would be swarmed by people as soon as it was released into the giant bin from the trap door in the other side. (If you need a diagram, I'd be happy to take a shot at it)

Settling into our room at B&B Tradiciones (they actually did find space for us: a room with a double bed and a set of bunkbeds), we sat on the bed eating our bread, fruit and jelly, unaware those items would become staples of our trip.