The city wall once was along the river bank on the right. There was a statue of Francisco Pizarro, who conquered the Inca empire, along the river behind the presidential palace. Pizarro grabbed that spot when he established the city. Public opinion (I'll get to that later) led to its being relocated farther down the river.
Lucas Hijacks my visit to Lima
I was standing on the bridge looking at the Rímac River and using up the last of my camera battery when this man walked by. Then he looped back and started talking to me. His name was Lucas, and he had just hitchhiked 18 hours on the Pan American Highway from his home up the coast. He kept pulling maps and brochures out of his pack and telling me all about Peru, Lima and the people who once lived there. I assumed at first, from having been around the plaza earlier, that he was another guy selling something. But he wasn't.
There was enough Spanish and English between us to communicate. We spent the afternoon together as he showed me the less touristy parts of Lima. Gradually his story came out.
Lucas spent most of his life in what he called a rock and roll lifestyle, bouncing around South America. Then, fifteen years ago, when he was 47, he made a turnaround and began caring for homeless children. The children has suffered from sexual and drug abuse. Using pallets that washed up on the shore, he and the kids had built a home and school where they supported themselves by making crafts. By now there were over forty kids living there. On this day he had made the trip to Lima to try to get some free sample bronchitis medicine from a doctor for some of the kids. From our mixed language, I gathered they had damaged their lungs sniffing solvents.
He certainly knew Lima well. We went to some small museums that aren’t mentioned in tourist guides. When the bag I was carrying started to rip, he knew where to find a street sewer who fixed it. When I got tired, he insisted on buying me some coca leaves to chew and some coca tea.
He was insistent that I see the pyramid (more on that in my second visit to Lima) in Miraflores, and navigated the bus system to get us there.
About those buses…
In the South American cities I visited, instead of having municipal buses, or one company having a franchise for bus service, there were competing bus lines. (There are also a lot of people selling things when traffic stops for lights. At one point two boys came onto the bus and took turns singing and playing simple instruments, when went through the bus selling candy.) Drivers are extremely aggressive in Lima. Our driver played chicken with the driver of a rival bus, daring him to change lanes. After visiting the pyramid, we got on a bus to the airport which took TWO AND A HALF HOURS, and it was nerve wracking. In addition to the buses and cabs, there are micros, a sort of extended minivan, and at rush hour they’re all packed.
So I didn't see the churches mentioned in Lonely Planet, or even the Inquisition Museum.
At the airport they wouldn't let me take my Gatorade through, so I had to drink it all on the spot. While I was getting my shoes and belt buckle back on someone started searching my bag. There was nothing to find, but still I felt a little paranoid about the coca in there, though it’s perfectly legal in Peru, Bolivia and part of Argentina. It’s part of the Andean culture, and people are as devoted to it as Uruguayans are to mate.
There was enough Spanish and English between us to communicate. We spent the afternoon together as he showed me the less touristy parts of Lima. Gradually his story came out.
Lucas spent most of his life in what he called a rock and roll lifestyle, bouncing around South America. Then, fifteen years ago, when he was 47, he made a turnaround and began caring for homeless children. The children has suffered from sexual and drug abuse. Using pallets that washed up on the shore, he and the kids had built a home and school where they supported themselves by making crafts. By now there were over forty kids living there. On this day he had made the trip to Lima to try to get some free sample bronchitis medicine from a doctor for some of the kids. From our mixed language, I gathered they had damaged their lungs sniffing solvents.
He certainly knew Lima well. We went to some small museums that aren’t mentioned in tourist guides. When the bag I was carrying started to rip, he knew where to find a street sewer who fixed it. When I got tired, he insisted on buying me some coca leaves to chew and some coca tea.
He was insistent that I see the pyramid (more on that in my second visit to Lima) in Miraflores, and navigated the bus system to get us there.
About those buses…
In the South American cities I visited, instead of having municipal buses, or one company having a franchise for bus service, there were competing bus lines. (There are also a lot of people selling things when traffic stops for lights. At one point two boys came onto the bus and took turns singing and playing simple instruments, when went through the bus selling candy.) Drivers are extremely aggressive in Lima. Our driver played chicken with the driver of a rival bus, daring him to change lanes. After visiting the pyramid, we got on a bus to the airport which took TWO AND A HALF HOURS, and it was nerve wracking. In addition to the buses and cabs, there are micros, a sort of extended minivan, and at rush hour they’re all packed.
So I didn't see the churches mentioned in Lonely Planet, or even the Inquisition Museum.
At the airport they wouldn't let me take my Gatorade through, so I had to drink it all on the spot. While I was getting my shoes and belt buckle back on someone started searching my bag. There was nothing to find, but still I felt a little paranoid about the coca in there, though it’s perfectly legal in Peru, Bolivia and part of Argentina. It’s part of the Andean culture, and people are as devoted to it as Uruguayans are to mate.