In Panama City I had been careful to make sure that my critical things (passport, money, etc) were safely tucked away in an undershirt pouch (that brown thing on the bottom right hand corner). The rest of what you see was my typical "on my person" pile of things. Far less than I have carried on previous walking intensive trips.
This was the view from my apartment. It was a nice day, even if it looked overcast. The temperatures were in the mid to high 70's, and not humid at all.
I walked for what felt like an eternity to get to the Metropolitano bus line. Paul had given me a pass that I needed to put more money on, and I successfully managed to do so. My pidgin Spanish was definitely coming in handy.
It was really an ingenious method of mass transit. A dedicated lane, both in- and out-bound were carved out of the existing highway.
Just like in a typical subway, you walked down to the platform, where the bus would pull up. Sliding doors would open and passengers would file into the bus.
The system worked flawlessly, and when it reached the center part of the city the buses merged with regular traffic. The outlay of construction for this type of mass transit seems far less extensive than a typical above or below ground subway.
I rode this bus for quite a distance. I realized once I got down towards the city center (that green spot on the map) that it would split into two different directions. I fortunately managed to get on the correct bus.
Paul had kindly given me a list of things that I should try and see today, so I had a basic game plan of what I wanted to do. With that being said, getting off the bus and onto the streets in Lima left me with that typical feeling of dizzying touristy feeling. I had to get my bearings, and to move out with some sort of authority. This was in my head, and to me it is always important to look like you know where you're going, and to not have that puzzled look. So I took off south, towards San Martin, because that was the direction I was pointed.
I ended up walking along this covered porch, looking in towards vendors and shops. I hadn't eaten breakfast at this point, so I was starving. Nothing looked quite right for what I wanted to eat, so I kept going.
I crossed over into the park itself, and found a bench to sit down and get my bearings. Paul had suggested that I walk through several covered shopping malls, and I realized that I had passed right by them. So I headed back north to see what I could find.
The malls looked half empty, and not much inside that was interesting to me, so I kept walking. I stopped at a pharmacy to top up my data plan, and ran into another small bit of trouble, but in the end the kind pharmacist spent time on the phone with Claro, or the credit card company (I'm not sure) and I was all set. Or so I thought - I could never figure out the internet data on my phone. It was spotty, and I would get constant text messages about my usage, so I would think I had used it all, and then ten minutes later, it would pop up with new text message and emails. As long as I had my map, I was okay.
Wandered past this huge monolith of a church, Iglesia de Merced.
I finally stumbled upon the Plaza de Armas, upon which many significant buildings abutted. Above is the Presidential Palace.
To the right was the National Cathedral.
The flowers in the plaza were all being dug up, and this truck and workers were busy picking up mounds and mounds of presumably dead flowers.
I finally managed to find a place that I could order some food without too much hassle. A cheese empenada and some juice did just the trick. I sat on a bench back in the Plaza de Aramas, directly in front of the Presidential Palace. I watched the people around me, heard some sort of demonstration across the plaza, and watched armed police with riot shields all head towards the noise of the demonstration. The plaza was also being set up for some huge concert or something, staging and lighting rigging were being erected on all corners.
Another obligatory photo of myself in front of something. Hey, I had to really prove I was there, right?
I circled around the plaza over to the National Cathedral. I wasn't all that keen on going inside, I firmly believe that once you've seen one old Catholic church, you've seen them all. Plus I couldn't figure out where the entrance was for the tour versus the main entrance.
So I ducked in and snapped one photo.
I then headed up towards the old Train Station. I had hopes to look inside, but it has been converted to multi-use space, with gates and guards.
I then accidentally found another one of Paul's suggestions, the catacombs at Convento de San Francisco. I paid my inexpensive (student rate) fee, went in and sat down and waited for the English tour to start.
 |
| from a postcard |
For some reason they wouldn't let us take photographs inside. I can understand, as a museum person that the use of flash photography can be detrimental to paintings and such, but I can't help but think not allowing any photography is just a way to drive sales in the gift shop.
The library was a long, dusty but impressive looking rooms, with hand written books dating back centuries. The large one in the bottom left hand corner is actually one used in the choir, on a big pedestal so everyone could see the words to sing.
 |
| from a postcard |
This is the ceiling of a stairwell. Those are all individual pieces of hand carved wood, fit together like a giant puzzle. One of the many earthquakes in Lima partially destroyed this ceiling, and it was painstakingly reconstructed.
 |
| http://media-cdn.tripadvisor.com/media/photo-s/01/8e/de/29/the-library-at-the-church.jpg |
This is the choir room, above the main sanctuary. Two rows of seating, and in the center was the revolving stand with the large print choirbooks.
 |
| http://turizmobaze.lt/wp-content/uploads/2013/10/catacombs-Peru-Lima-.jpg |
The big draw, supposedly was the catacombs themselves. Why people are fascinated with decaying bones, I don't know. These catacombs were filled with the patrons and other people of wealth. Once they had laid "in state" for a few months or years, the bones were then removed and tossed into a giant cistern like pit. Archaeologists within the last century excavated all of these tombs and arranged the bones randomly in neat piles: femurs here, skulls there and everything else in big piles of dust.
Paul had suggested that I visit the Parque De La Muralla, as it had ruins from the Inca fortifications.
Sadly, this was as close as I could get, the park was closed for some undetermined reason.
This is probably one of my favorite images for the entire trip. Catching up on my journal, having a beer and way off in the distance, the mountains. I think it might be the Andes, but probably just a small neighboring range. Oh well, I still like it.
It was time to head back down to the Hotel Gran Bolivar for a pisco sour. The streets were much more crowded with shoppers and tourists.
As I came up upon the plaza in front of the Bolivar, I noticed an old blue car sitting at the curb.
I knew instantly what it was - an old Hudson that was circumnavigating the glove. I was so psyched to stumble across Hudo and Heidi!
I didn't want to pester the owner and driver, Heidi, because it looked like she was unpacking, but I wanted to say hello. Turns out that she had no problem talking for quite some time, and I thoroughly enjoyed getting to meet her. I wish her a speedy recovery, so she and Hudo can continue their travels.
I was so pleased to have been in the right time and place to meet Hudo. I sat down and had myself a pisco sour, and wrote a little more in my journal. By this time, it was getting to be late in the afternoon, and I needed to start thinking about my return to my apartment, sadly.
Paul had suggested that I swing by the oldest bar in Lima, but I decided against it, and kept walking down a less traveled side street.
This street was filled with bookstores and book vendors. I wish that I knew enough Spanish to have purchased a book.
At the end of the street of bookstores was this beautiful blue church, Iglesia de Recoleta.
This plaza, apparently to commemorate the Peruvian Navy, reminded me very much of some of the plazas in Hanoi, Vietnam.
Llamas!
Llamas and me!
The Palace of Justice.
The Museum of Italian Art.
I was heading down into the Exposition Park. I wasn't quite sure what was there, but it looked like a neat place.
This is the Lima Museum of Art, with it's beautiful surrounding gardens.
I'm still not entirely sure what this building is, other than some sort of Swiss Chalet look-alike.
Behind the faux Swiss-chalet building was a pond where you could ride in swan boats.
I was running out of energy at this point, so I headed down to the nearest bus station to take me back to Miraflores. I walked along busy side-streets, past a multitude of bus stations that would take people far out into Peru. The building above is the National Stadium.
It was time to head back down to the Hotel Gran Bolivar for a pisco sour. The streets were much more crowded with shoppers and tourists.
I didn't want to pester the owner and driver, Heidi, because it looked like she was unpacking, but I wanted to say hello. Turns out that she had no problem talking for quite some time, and I thoroughly enjoyed getting to meet her. I wish her a speedy recovery, so she and Hudo can continue their travels.
I was so pleased to have been in the right time and place to meet Hudo. I sat down and had myself a pisco sour, and wrote a little more in my journal. By this time, it was getting to be late in the afternoon, and I needed to start thinking about my return to my apartment, sadly.
Paul had suggested that I swing by the oldest bar in Lima, but I decided against it, and kept walking down a less traveled side street.
This street was filled with bookstores and book vendors. I wish that I knew enough Spanish to have purchased a book.
At the end of the street of bookstores was this beautiful blue church, Iglesia de Recoleta.
This plaza, apparently to commemorate the Peruvian Navy, reminded me very much of some of the plazas in Hanoi, Vietnam.
Llamas!
Llamas and me!
The Palace of Justice.
The Museum of Italian Art.
I was heading down into the Exposition Park. I wasn't quite sure what was there, but it looked like a neat place.
This is the Lima Museum of Art, with it's beautiful surrounding gardens.
I'm still not entirely sure what this building is, other than some sort of Swiss Chalet look-alike.
Behind the faux Swiss-chalet building was a pond where you could ride in swan boats.
I was running out of energy at this point, so I headed down to the nearest bus station to take me back to Miraflores. I walked along busy side-streets, past a multitude of bus stations that would take people far out into Peru. The building above is the National Stadium.
I made it back to my apartment in plenty of time for my orientation class for grad school (imagine that, logging in from a different continent for grad school!). I then ventured out for dinner.
The place I ended up getting take-away food misunderstood that I wanted sparkling water, and brought me "Inca Kola". It tastes just as bad as it looks - overly sweet. I'm glad I tried it, but a few sips was enough.
Back at the apartment I ate my dinner, noodled around the internet, and wrote in my journal some. Paul arranged a taxi for me the following morning, with the warning that it would probably come much earlier than expected. Since the pickup time was 4:15 AM, I was a bit worried at just how early they would arrive.
I went back to my room and finally started packing everything away. It was quite a big pile of stuff to cram into one carry-on bag, but I managed.
