Hi All! We’re here in Lima.  So is Brunhilde.   But that’s as close as it gets for the time being.  Not that I’m worried.  I have plenty of time for that ahead.  Right now, despite bureaucratic headaches, we’re finding Lima to be our kind of place.  What could be bad about a city where the vultures have such spot-on aim that when I curled myself up in a hammock for a short nap they hit me with their best shot from 1,000 feet up.  Perhaps they were wondering whether that thing on the terrace could be their next snack?   Well, I showed them a thing or two.  “I’m not dead yet!” I shouted to the heavens (courtesy Monty Python), tumbling out of the hammock and onto the terrace floor from where i would have shaken my fist at the sky if it hadn’t been numb from me sleeping on it.

Our favorite ceviche bar in Lima

We like Lima because it’s very human -sized, with short blocks, short houses, short people.  Houses are colorful, sidewalks buckled by the roots of the many trees in our part of the city.  It’s warm and bearably humid; I can see the cracks on Bernard’s fingers healing as I type.  Traffic is swift and amusing.  Imagine this:  no one uses their car horn here…I can’t figure out why…  so we have no clue who’s going where.  Which doesn’t actually matter, because nobody pays attention to street signs, stop signs, or any other traffic indicator.   I can just feel my palms getting sweaty about this as I type.

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Hello! The countdown to Peru has begun.  Already, Brunhilde is on the high seas, heading for Lima’s port, Callao, there to await us in solitary splendor (at least, I hope I reserved the luxury warehouse for her), while we tiptoe around the Galapagos for a week.  Actually, I’m considering trying out a new waterproof cover for my laptop while snorkeling.  Which do you think is more compelling:   Facebook?   Tropical fish? 

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