Our hotel turned out to be rather nice – full marks to Iberian for turning a crap situation not of their own making around. We headed back through the mid-morning Madrid rush to the airport, and were finally on our way out of Europe in the opposite direction to how we’d travelled yesterday.
The flight was long and uneventful, watching shite American films and guzzling german pinot noir, as well as intently reading El Pais and ABC with dictionary in hand. I seem to be getting much better at handling long haul flights recently and this one was no exception.
Laur and I both managed to sleep a little despite the fact that we were chasing the sun and there were lots of excitable Spaniards and Peruvians having impromptu parties around the cabin, there was even an intense card game being played by an extended French family next door.
We arrived in Lima in the early evening, and immediately felt the heat coming off the plane – definitely in the southern hemisphere now! Getting out was quick and easy, and our friendly hostel guy Harold put us in a taxi and we sped off through the chaos of central Lima. We got our bearings by wandering around some local shops, where I upset a storekeeper by spilling her carefully arranged bottles of fizzy pop all over the floor. After a quick supper we headed for bes, still feeling a little jet-lagged.
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