Peru 2005: Day 0 — Arrival in Lima
DAY 0: Arrival in Lima
We flew out of SFO and into Atlanta, where we connected with a flight to Lima. We had chosen to arrive in Lima a day early so that we could explore and recover from the flight. We had also chosen to kick-down cash and have Global Adrenaline secure an english-speaking tour guide from the airport to our hotel. We figured we were going to be arriving late and tired in a foreign country with aggressive (not-always-so-nice) taxi drivers and just wanted the quickest route to our hotel. We figured correct.
We arrived near midnight and the first smell I noticed when we got off the plane was the smell of frying corn oil (every airport is different). Turns out, we debarked right by the food court! I was shocked by the sheer quantity of YELLOW signs everywhere. Once again, every airport and every country has its preferred colors, and in Peru the colors are black and yellow. After a desperate rush to the bathroom by Steph, it was down to the most efficient customs I have ever been through.
On our flight, I noticed a woman in my aisle who happened to also have the magic “red book” from SYAE. As luck would have it, the other person arriving one day early was sitting no more than 5 seats away from me on the plane and stood waiting for her baggage only a few people over. This woman managed to get her baggage 10 minutes prior to Steph and myself and vanish through customs. Just as Steph and I were seriously beginning to sweat that our luggage (and our livelihood on the Inca Trail) were not going to make the journey, the bags appeared. Looks like we would (have to) be able to trek the Inca Trail after all instead of lounging in a comfortable hotel awaiting luggage.
After collecting our luggage, we navigated to the “output” kiosk, where a security dude of some sorts asks you press a giant red button on a purple column. This triggers some magic random number generator and if the resultant light turns green you are free to get your ass out of the airport.
My light turned red. I was lucky enough to have all of my baggage felt up by a screener who could care less about me or her job (after all, what was I going to smuggle *in* to Lima….coca leaves?)
I collected my bags once again, and Steph and I walked out into the most disorienting din of spanish taxi drivers imaginable. Hundreds of signs held up (“John Smith”, “Jane Doe”, blah blah blah) and not a one said “Global Adrenaline”. Meanwhile we are being harassed by some lady insisting that she can give us a ride, when the woman from our flight (Hilary) saves the day and pulls us towards her and our english speaking tour guide (Thank you Hilary!!!). Soon, we were on a short-bus and driving the 30 insane minutes towards the Sonesta Posada del Inca el Olivar in Lima.
Arriving in a daze, we met Leslie (who I remember seeing at an REI weeks before) managed to check in and then completely crashed.
