Lima, one week,
lots of work, few photos.
I did exactly
what they tell you not to do: stay in Lima for a week. »What?#?*&%? in Peru
and you don't go to Machu Picchu?« kept saying the astonished faces. Turists'
wisdom has it that Lima is ugly, grey and foggy – you land, get over your
jetlag and hop in some of Latin America's best restaurants... and quickly move
on.
Glued to Lima by
work, I stayed. And absolutely loved it. I tried for a week to understand where
Lima's proverbial ugliness came from – in vain. Instead, I stumbled across some
of most breath-taking churches I've seen so far. Lovely »plazas« that
litteraly call you to sit down and enjoy. Colourful colonial houses that feel
like a relief compared to other skyscraper-loaded centers (bingo, the cutest
one hosts the very Ministry of Foreign Affairs!). Bars that smell of past.
Monasteries that feel as if in Spain. Sun 24/24, seaside walks, parks and the
sea full of surfers.
Lima is all about
the five senses. The smell of sea, humidity and fish that fills your nose as
soon as the plane touches down. The taste of ceviche, tropical fruits and
yellow potatoes. The sound of histerical horns (driving takes lots of courage)
and nostalgic peña songs. The sight of gold, lots of gold – gold
that even has its own museum. The touch of alpaca wool that abounds everywhere
– on bodies, market shelves and catwalks. And obvisouly, the sensation
of your head spinning after a glass (only one) of pisco. »Eso es un error,« was
Luc's opening sentence at my very first Lima dinner while ordering piscos. A
mistake that you repeat over and over again. It's addictive.
The sixth sense
in Lima, however, tells you that it's a country full of contradictions. Which city isn't, anyway? It
boosts Latin America's best macroeconomic numbers, yet 30% still live in
poverty. It keeps restaurating amazing gold-loaded churches and temples,
neighboured by modern villas (favelas). It's hungry of progress yet not ready
to invest in technology (why? if manual workers cost only 1 USD). It wants to
get rid of thousands of foreign drug-dealers/prisoners but lets kilos and kilos
of drugs leak behind the walls. It's the world's biggest exporter of cocaine - and
seems to like it. On the way to the prison, by the way, you pass one that hosts the
brother of the current (very popular) president.
The time and the
battery ran short to take a lot of pictures but there are some:
Spread out, covered in its typical pre-winter fog... a view from the Malecon promenade.
Baranco, Lima's Montmartre, central park and library.
Mind the shiny front and the less shiny behind.
Puente de los suspiros (sighs / soupires / vzdihljajev), flooded with turists, just as in Venice.
Pachacamac ruins, next to modern favelas.
The ex-avenida
panamericana, to the north.
The new shiny Slovenian room, just before its birth.
