Miraflores

Local fisherman doing his thing.

Day number two started the same for Anna, but Mark lost his fear of five year olds and slept in like baby. Although still not accustomed to the sounds of extra loud vehicles at 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7, 8, and 9 in the morning, he still got the much needed rest. We got our complimentary biscuits and jelly with some cups of tea. Dumped! Then headed out, this time straight to the beach. A long staircase starts across from our hostel, covered in really unique art style graffiti, following a steep cliff to the beach. This whole part of Lima is ocean cliffs around 500 to 1000 feet tall. We walked a couple miles along a path with was ocean on one side and a four or five lane highway on the other (it´s always hard to tell since nobody follows the traffic lines.) At one point the road splits to send cars up a steep hill and we asked one of the thousands of security guards, ¨¿Donde esta?¨and pointed up the road. ¨Miraflores,¨he replied and pointed. We zipped across the highway, as there is no such thing as jay-walking around here, and started our long incline.

Old bus

Our coastal path

Starting up the stairs

Still trekking, almost there...

Here was the next wake up call for Mark and Anna, mostly Mark. The day was still gray and hazy, but the humidity and 80 degree heat almost made Mark loose it. This uphill made our lungs gasp for an air that basically clogged the transfer of oxygen to our blood cells, very thick and . Five hundred feet into it, Mark was emptying his pockets of any extra weight into the backpack, asking Anna to help out and carry it for a couple feet. That didn´t help. Two hundred feet later, about halfway up this hill, his shirt was off and the skin was wet and pink. Really pink. Kind of embarrassing to think about the locals driving by, by the thousands, seeing a cute little girl carrying her purse, the camera, a huge backpack, her boy´s shirt, and fully clothed; while this shiny viking looking neanderthal sloths along twenty feet behind her, brighter than the brake lights on the cars in front of them. All the while he was slipping and sliding in his shoes and socks he hasn´t changed since Marin County.

Finally, when Anna got to the top she set Mark down (gently,) surrounded by Miraflores. The streets in certain parts of the city have long straight parks running up the middle of the neighborhoods, very nice when you don´t have a car. We met an old man dressed in a suit, asking for fuego, a light, who spoke horrible English, however was very friendly. He did say something that we have seen over and over in Peru. He lived in Los Angeles back during the Kennedy administration but moved back to Peru shortly after. He said he loved being in the U.S.A. because everyone was "go, go, go." But in Peru, everybody has "no tiempo," which he showed by his body movements, they were more carefree and not in any hurry. He himself didn´t seem to have anywhere to go. We´ve noticed that his advice is correct with many people here, they just aren´t in any hurry to do anything at all.

Iglesia Medalla Milagrosa and the Miraflores Church next to the Parque Central

Skyscraper views

As we walked on to get Mark out of his living socks, we found Miraflores to be a little like San Francisco. There are tall skyscrapers, busy streets, hectic traffic, and hundreds of people moving around to various destinations. With more to offer here, he finally bought the first pair of sandals that could fit, without trying them on of course. Big mistake. They are cheap rubbery plastic and the right toe thong has sharp manufactured edges that instantly ate away at his soft, pale, pruny skin. He changed his feet at a beautiful park called "Parque Central," where our peanut butter and jelly sandwiches tasted a little better than the foot odor surrounding our bench. The sun finally showed face, making all the colors of the city come alive, but also raising more concern for lobsterboy. In this park, which is immaculately landscaped, were tons of gatos (cats) of all shapes and colors, who seemed to reside in the green grass and colorful flowers. Anna noticed many were tortoiseshell cats, which look a lot like our two girls back home, "Indy and Teevers". Slight home sickness struck over us for the first time as we missed our little family, Lola included. After wondering for a bit and walking through a small street fair full of authentic Inca arts and crafts, we decided to head back down another road which lead to a gorgeous dead end at a cliff top ocean view. We turned left followed the line of huge apartment homes, pretty little parks with grand vistas and random security guards standing around.

There we are!!

Looks just like Indica <3

Art fair collectibles

A nice view where we ate lunch

While enjoying the walk, and hating the sandals, Anna had to listen to Mark´s whimpers the entire way. He did, however, forget about the equator for the moment and that he now knows what it really feels like to be a redneck (insert joke here.) The farmers tan hurt more than any before, well maybe. He´s been very lobsterfied in the past, but this literally changed the way he thought about life. The forehead got it the worst, sucking the energy from the brain like a fiend sucks on a syringe. Anna still perfectly resistant from the glaring raise of the sun, making Marks frustration even more obvious. Sleep came easy that night after our long journey in the humid baking sun.

Looking back down the coast towards Barranco 

Walking home to Barranco with Miraflores behind us