Chapter 6 - alpaca lot in

Fortunately the inclusive breakfast, or desayuno as I prefer to call it these days, was located at a restaurant which is literally at the bottom of the stairs to my quirky youth hostel, so even I with my complete absence of sense of direction could not get lost.

I had a complete wobble earlier and started looking to see if I can change my flight - my thought process went something like this - what am I doing here? Swanning around for no apparent reason, making friends with strangers, sipping cerveza of an evening, reading and writing.  It's the ultimate self-indulgence when there are so many useful things I could be doing at home - planning events, or sorting the details for the four residentials which are locked into the diary and others which are floating around my head but have yet to make it into writing, booking in work and training stuff, even doing actual work and other useful things, but instead I am living it up in Peru.  But after a spot of self-reflection, I decided that a few days on the other side of the world, which hopefully a few others may enjoy via this blog, is verging on just about socially acceptable.  To the practicalities - I booked such cheap flights (go google flights!) that they can't be changed anyway.  So here I am.  

Breakfast was a scrumptious egg and toast, coffee, and a cup of indeterminable juice.  I brought three books with me on this trip and sat reading the first which I have very nearly finished, over breakfast.  There are pros and cons to being a lone adventurer - having time and space to read is a definite pro.  Whilst I routinely saturate myself with The Guardian and wall-to-wall Radio 4, reading an actual book is quite a novelty.

I have booked myself a day-trip with the mysterious and very Peruvian-sounding Patrick, whom I have just given my passport details.  Those of you who know me will appreciate how careful I am with personal details, in that I trust no-one.  So to have WhatsApp-ed my passport details to a complete stranger is well outside of my comfort zone.  However, I've paid reception at the place where I'm staying - you'll note an absence of details regarding the specifics - you never know who might be reading - I watched the whole of Spooks in lockdown; trust no-one.

I decided to go to the beach today, to finish my personal development book and to chill and sip Coca Cola with the waves crashing close by.  This plan wasn't quite to be as the beach is a very long way down from the level I'm at, although the views of Pacifico are truly spectacular.  Pacifico at its finest.

Curiously, an upmarket shopping mall adorns the sea-front and there were hi-viz-clad security guards demanding proof of my covid vaccination prior to my admission to the shopping mall.  I browsed a few minutes then as I felt my caffeine levels drooping, I headed for a quirky coffee shop I'd passed along the way and sat awhile, very nearly finishing my book.  

Whilst day-dreaming and sipping true Peruvian coffee, my eyes fell on the building opposite - yes, that's right, it was, if you hadn't guessed, 'Mundo Alpaca', 'live the alpaca experience - alpaca museum'.  As soon as I'd finished my coffee, I dashed across the road and lost myself in the alpaca museum where I am now an expert in all things alpaca - I can tell you in great details the history of how alpaca came to be used for so many things, and how the advice is to cuddle an alpaca in order to keep warm.  A kindly lady accompanied me around the museum, helping me to press buttons to see pictures of the history of alpaca, watch videos, listen to audio, pose with alpaca (see Twitter) and - best of all - experience virtual reality with alpaca - I have to say, this felt like a better use of VR than dodging angry flying cubes with lightsabers - I was actually in a field of alpaca, helping to herd them, chat to them, it was surreal, but not in a bad way.  

I had walked past the tourist information centre in Miraflores and had popped in.  They had a free walking tour of Miraflores that afternoon! I signed up and returned five minutes before the tour started.  This was a great thing to do - three hours of walking around the sites of Miraflores, with a bunch of others, all in Peru for their own reasons.  As one who loves to walk and chat, this was a perfect way to spend three hours in a new place.   

Our trusty tour guide Alvaro from #LimaWalkingTour took us around Miraflores, taking in all the sites and learning about the place in great detail.  We tasted a raft of types of Peruvian chocolate in a chocolate shop; we visited various parks on the seafront and even met Paddington.  The tour culminated with tasting Pisco Sour on a roof terrace - I love roof terraces and have had the privilege of enjoying them in many different places.  A pisco sour consists of egg white, pisco, lemon, sugar syrup and tastes superb.  I sat and chatted with the friends I'd made on the walking tour, including the legendary guides, Alvaro and Susana, to whom I explained that I do something a bit similar for a job at home, conveying information to different groups of people.  I stayed at the roof terrace for a sumptuous fish dinner fresh from the Pacific, with new friends from the walking tour, including Deana from Alaska who is having a major adventure in South and Central America.

Well, I appear to have been added to a WhatsApp group with others who are going on this day-trip tomorrow... I am a professional avoider of WhatsApp groups so am not overly happy about this.  Honestly, when did this world change beyond recognition communication-wise? It's twenty years - I know (!!) - twenty years since I first started adventuring alone - in 2002, on my first foray into solo travels in Ghana, West Africa, I used to walk into town once a week to check my e-mail, wait an hour for a connection, wait a further hour when the electric went down, then maybe reply to two or three e-mails before the connection went again, then give up and walk home.  Fast-forward twenty years and WiFi is practically part of Maslow's hierarchy of needs, overarching most other needs on some diagrams, and I'm sitting in a Peruvian youth hostel, wirelessly sharing my thoughts with you thanks to Yoga, my tiny laptop, whilst my smartphone pings incessantly about the arrangements with strangers for tomorrow.  Although I suppose strangers are just friends you haven't made yet.

I'll leave it there as I have to get up at 4am for the day-trip.  Thanks for reading - hasta mañana.

Chapter 5 - Got no soles

Another airline I've never heard of - LATAM - kindly took me all the way to... Peru! It was a huge aeroplane, much bigger than the Jet Who planes that ushered me to the US of A.  It was a surreal overnight flight where I was sandwiched between a rather-too-right-leaning lady from I'm not quite sure where, and a shy Peruvian woman who smiled at me when she absolutely had to, like when she'd accidentally scooped up my seatbelt instead of hers.  

I hadn't heard back from the place where I am staying about the airport transfer I'd attempted to book; 19-year-old me would have happily spent hours haggling with cab drivers to get to downtown Lima and beyond; in nearly twenty years since my first forays into solo international travel, I have learnt a lot - sorting one's airport transfer is one of the top things to sort and I was reassured when on logging into the WiFi in the immigration queue at Lima Airport, there was an e-mail confirming that my airport transfer was booked.  Honestly, the world has changed beyond recognition in those twenty years - we haven't always had the world in our pocket, as I frequently tell classrooms of teenagers who look at me as though I'm making it all up.  

I fell into conversation with a new friend called Mary - not Mary the ice-cube fairy, a different Mary, an American in Peru for her husband's nephew's wedding.  She asked me if I was worried about the riots and protests in Lima.  The what? Oh gosh, imagine if I read ahead, I'd be dangerous.  This trip, I didn't even manage to download a Lonely Planet chapter about Peru, which is unlike me, so I certainly hadn't got as far as current events.  I only booked the place I'm staying to generate a donation on easyfundraising.  

A kindly lady took my photo at immigration - I got to remove both of my masks (mandatory on LATAM flights unless you have a really fancy one) - including an alpaca mask my mother gave me, which seemed very appropriate for this trip, although the last time I met an alpaca was in Gillingham - and my glasses, so I will be barely recognisable.  I noticed afterwards that she seems to have neglected to stamp my passport, so I am technically not here at all.  Let's hope this isn't awkward when I come to leave.  She definitely took a photo and she definitely worked for Peruvian immigration, as far as I could tell - here's hoping, or I'll be calling my new friend Mary.  Or Aunt Lucy - she lives in darkest Peru.

After neither of my cash cards would yield any local currency (called soles), I decided on balance to go through and locate my taxi driver.  It's always quite something to see my name on a large placard - it's at moments like these that any combination of things which resemble my name are fine - I won't fuss about superfluous hyphens, word order, or spelling - behold, 'Hellen Beecher' has made it to Peru.

The journey in the cab was long and slow, but I like journeys - 'when you rush so fast to get somewhere, you miss half the fun of getting there' - I didn't write that line, it's from an epic poem called Slow Dance, which someone else wrote.  

Awkwardly, the conversation was limited as my Spanish is a bit limited.  I can do the most important things, such as ordering beer and asking where the toilets are.  I'm not proud of this.  My French is reasonable, but that is no help at all here.

The driver wasn't too happy about being paid in dollars, I understood that much.  Possibly for this reason, he deposited me at the wrong youth hostel.  Fortunately, the right one was just around the corner.  I'm staying in Miraflores, a modern suburb of Lima which as a certain cosmopolitan feel to it - pavement cafes, asphalted playparks, bicycles for hire and all sorts of quirky shops and restaurants.

I checked into my room which overlooks the park which is full of wandering Peruvians, some walking their dogs, others chatting with friends; hapless tourists with their abundant and pointless travel gadgets - I'm a traveller, not a tourist, just saying - and salespeople plying their trades, mainly knitted flowers and stone necklaces.  Gone are the days of a shared dorm and bathroom - these days I book my own room with a lockable door and everything.

Well, una cerveza por favore (I got to use one of my two top phrases) has come to an end, so methinks it's time to go and locate some dinner, then make a gentle plan for tomorrow.  Thanks for sharing this journey with me.  

Chapter 4 - angry flying cubes

Today was my final day en famille  and I write to you now from Los Angeles International Airport where I'm awaiting my flight to a further few days of adventure.

I had a happy half hour this morning where my brother-in-law let me try his virtual reality headset.  I had to ward off angry flying cubes aiming for my head, with giant lightsabers, in time to music.  I found this very difficult and after perishing multiple times over, he kindly put it onto a mode which meant I could not perish.  It's at times like this that I realise that hobbies different to my own are available.  The closest I get to virtual reality is, well, watching Click where Spenley, Lara and the team fill me in on the latest advances in tech, most of which I can appreciate, but happily live without.  It was a bit like that.

My sister lovingly prepared spider-web shaped waffles for breakfast, with delicious strawberries and blackberries, plus I enjoyed a chocolate orange flavoured coffee thanks to my brother-in-law's epic coffee machine which wouldn't look out of place in Costa.  

I loaded up my giant orange tortoise once again and after I had said goodbye to SAGE the very advanced dog, two cornsnakes, two fish and an Argentinian tegu, we bundled into Hermione the Tesla; it's very important to always name things.  

We went to a local shopping mall and I watched my niece do exactly what I do - make friends with complete strangers, which was endearing.  We browsed in several shops and my sister purchased shoes for the children - my niece's shoes smell like strawberries! Honestly, who thinks these things up?!

We had lunch at a quirky pizza place where we were able to build every aspect of our own pizza, which was good fun and a lovely final meal together.  After wandering around a little more, I was introduced to bubble tea, which has been on my list of things to try for ages, but an opportunity had not presented itself, until now.  Well, I still don't quite understand what it is, but it is delicious - it consists of cold tea with tiny yummy beads of tapioca which - googles quickly - are made of tapioca starch which comes from the cassava root.  Who knew? There is a bubble tea place in Plumstead High Street which I walk past multiple times each week - next time I shall pop in and order myself a bubble tea.  You should do the same. 

Well, here endeth the first part of this adventure and it's time for the next part.  I said a tearful farewell to the only two people in the world to whom I am Auntie Helen - 'why are you crying Arnie Helen?' questioned my 4-year-old niece.  Since then I've been catching up with various administrative bits and bobs, hoping that my lift from the next airport has received my flight details - here's hoping.  Tomorrow's blog will reveal all.  

Chapter 3 - pulled pork and cycle paths

The day began in the morning, as they tend to.  I woke up to the sweet sound of two small children watching cartoons.  

We breakfasted then headed into town where I was left in sole charge of two children in a play-park.  I was a little lost without my usual hi-viz, clipboard, two-way radio and sixty-eight other children, in fact, keeping track of two was a lot trickier.  They climbed up a giant castle, slid down various different slides, rotated rapidly on a roundabout-type thing, then chilled out in a huge circular swing, all whilst making friends with other children.  Both my niece and nephew were present and safely intact when Mummy returned.  Phew, that could have been awkward.  

We headed back to the house for lunch and to check on SAGE the Australian Shepherd - he's had a busy couple of years, bless him, with all those meetings.  

In the afternoon, we cycled to the beach along perfectly maintained cycle paths.  I haven't been on a bicycle since the last time I went on a bicycle, which was when I was last here, in summer 2018, when my tiny niece was even tinier and just crawling around the house - she has no recollection of me ever having visited here.  

I was a little unsteady on my bicycle at first, and may have tumbled off a couple of times initially, until I got my balance.  I couldn't get my head around the gears though - the laws of physics have always been a bit of a mystery to me, particularly in relation to transport.  Learning to drive sort of helped me understand the laws of physics, particularly when I crashed the family mondeo into a neighbour's house after four lessons.  I didn't babysit there again.  I then failed my driving test before I'd left the test centre car-park, but that's another story.

The sun shone and the sea was perfectly clear and great for paddling, which we duly did.  We stopped at an ice-cream parlour for sumptuous banana chocolate chip ice-cream and a cappuccino, then continued on our travels a little further until we found a dinner place where we enjoyed delicious pulled pork sandwiches.  We bundled back onto our bicycles and cycled all the way home.  I've done exercise twice in three days now - steady.

Chapter 2 - a suspicious transaction

This morning's awakening was at the verging on socially acceptable time of 7.30am, due to my niece and nephew switching on the TV and watching cartoons in the room next to mine.  Yesterday's awakening had been due to my nephew deciding that 5.30am was a good time to start playing on his drum-kit, so today was definitely preferable.

After a sumptuous poached egg and beautifully prepared cappuccino from my brother-in-law's spectacular coffee machine, we bundled into the car bound for Discovery Cube, a quirky science museum-esque place filled with all manner of scientific experiments.  We built wooden cars then sent them off on Scaletrix-type tracks; we strolled around a mocked-up supermarket following clues to find foodstuffs, then scanned them into our trolleys; we learnt about solar power and windpower; we sorted rubbish into recycling and non-recycling; we then went outside and made dinosaurs, as one does.  I had a moment of panic when my usually trusty Revolut card decided that me purchasing lunch for us all at Bean Sprouts, the restaurant at Discovery Cube, was defined as a 'suspicious transaction' and decided to lock itself there and then.  Great.

Later, we dropped my nephew at his drumming lesson then scooted round a nearby supermarket, stocking up for the next few days.  My niece made the supermarket trip memorable in ways that only a four-year-old can - clambering into the trolley, over the trolley, clinging onto the side of the trolley, all whilst helpfully grabbing what she thought we probably needed.

My sister prepared delicious fajitas for dinner, followed by my first ever 'root beer float' thanks to my brother-in-law; this consists of ice-cream floating in root beer and is delicious - do try it if you have these things to hand.  It has a curious medicinal twang to it, but not in an unpleasant way.  

I also managed to nail a series of things from my to-do list today.  Bizarrely, it's easier to find time to do some things when one is literally on the other side of the world.  I've written two DofE reports and very nearly ordered the t-shirts for the forthcoming Brownie Holiday.  I've also been reading up the next phase of my journey, so stay tuned.  

  

Chapter 1 - Jet Who?

Have you ever booked flights with airlines you've never heard of? I didn't think so.  This trip, I 'google flighted' my way to booking and ended up with flights at the right times and to the right places, but with airlines unknown.  I was a little concerned that none of the bookings seem to make mention of obvious things, like for example, a seat, so I had visions of having to perch awkwardly on a wing and hope for the best.  Fortunately, all was well on the first and second flights  - they were expecting me, I had a seat and everything.  Both times I was hoping for a window seat, as one does, albeit with the inevitable clambering over strangers when one needs to, but this was not to be, and I sat happily sandwiched between strangers on both flights.

The first flight transported me seamlessly from Gatwick to JFK, New York, which was the busiest airport I have experienced for decades.  It was rammed with people variously milling, chatting, shopping, snacking and charging their abundance of devices.  I cleared customs, apologising to the immigration officer that I had run out of time to get a haircut and that the wild animal look would have to suffice.  

I then re-checked my trusty orange tortoise who has sat gathering dust on top my wardrobe for nearly 3 years so is very glad of the opportunity to be out, albeit spending the bulk of her time so far in eerie plane holds, rammed with chocolate for nephew and unicorns for my niece.   

After a noisy couple of hours at JFK, I climbed aboard my second Jet Blue flight and slept like a baby for five hours, waking only for a quick cup of tea.   Before I knew it, I was scooping my giant orange tortoise off the baggage carousel and into the back of my awaiting sister's car.

We drove about an hour back to their house and in the morning, my niece and nephew bounced in to greet me with their excitable cries of 'Arnie Helen!!'

After I was introduced to the new family pets - Joey and Sharktooth the amenable cornsnakes, we munched delicious french toast - just the humans, the snakes would have struggled - then headed out to Irvine Regional Park, a quirky expanse of land, trees, a zoo, play-parks and plenty of families having fun.  We hired a 4-person pedal car and pedalled our way around the perimeter - the most exercise I've done for three years - then headed to the on-site zoo where we saw scary bears, cute capybara, majestic peacocks, mountain lions prowling malevolently, prickly porcupine, plus a petting zoo full of goats which the children enjoyed stroking and feeding.  

On the way back, we stopped for sumptuous frozen yoghurt at a self-service place where you build then devour your own unique frozen yoghurt sculpture using every conceivable frozen yoghurt flavour then toppings raising from blueberries to chocolate caramels to chunky watermelon sweets.

After dinner and a dog-walk, variously walking - myself, my sister and the dog - cycling - my niece - and roller-blading - my brother-in-law and nephew - it was time for bed.  

 

Plane friends, and the adventure ends

As the old adage says, 'Home is... where the WiFi connects automatically'.

You may be reassured to know that I am safely back in Plumstead, sitting at my desk, watching the local JWs hastily head to their hall just up the road as they do every Tuesday, or is it Wednesday, I still can't quite be sure.  I'm typing to you from Pavilion.  Yoga is to a pointy boat, what Pavilion is to the Barra / Banjul ferry.  

The second leg of the homeward journey, where weary travellers had spent the intervening hours patiently awaiting their turn at the limited charging points, was very pleasant, mainly because I found myself sitting next to a new friend who I have no doubt is reading this blog.  We actually chatted for the full three-and-a-half hours of the flight.  I'm afraid I relayed most of my adventures verbally, so apologies Alison - much of the previous blog entries won't be news to you.

Lunch was infinitely preferable to the indeterminable part of an animal embalmed in a chunk of dry bread which I had been served for breakfast.  I think Royal Air Maroc had purchased a new chicken, most probably with that huge wad of cash I had given them yesterday.  I enjoyed a final proper Coke, which I won't drink again until I am next abroad.

I glided through immigration, using a trusty electronic gate situation which negates the need to even speak to anyone, which is a tiny bit sad, but speeds up the process I suppose.  

Then it was baggage o'clock and I trundled off to the baggage hall with my two new friends, one of whom didn't have any baggage because Royal Air Maroc lost it on the way out two months ago and it now appears to be in China.  

My trusty orange tortoise (who admittedly doesn't look that orange with her cover on) was lying unassumedly on the carousel; most other travellers found that their baggage had been suffocated by shrink-wrapped, environment-killing plastic, which was discombobulating as travellers weren't recognising their own luggage.  I'm glad my trusty orange tortoise didn't get shrink-wrapped as I think she'd have suffocated.  She's had quite a time these last few days with all these wild trips on top of minibuses and bush taxis and needs a good wash - now quite sure how I'll do that, but I'll sort it out somehow.

I bade farewell to my #PlaneFriends, my head buzzing from lack of sleep combined with a quirky Reggae version of multiple Ed Sheeran songs which I heard in The Gambia at various times, where Ed is busy reeee-writing the stars with a punchy Reggae beat going on; his song 'Perfect' also sounds quite unique with a Reggae beat, if you can imagine that.

I jumped onto the shuttle train - me, Ed's songs and my trusty orange tortoise - then onto the train to London Bridge, then a train to Plumstead, then onto a 177 bus.  My timing was perfect as I hit the beginning of the rush hour, which displeased a handful of commuters, though they were most probably miserable anyway and mainly predictably attached to their devices.  They should try commuting in a bush taxi.

So now it's time to pick up the threads and start ploughing through seven burgeoning inboxes of e-mails and a huge pile of post (which, at a quick first glance seems to contain confirmation of the renewal of my Girlguiding Trainer Qualification, plus a shiny new travel insurance policy - thanks, Aviva)  

It's time to locate the clipboard of knowledge and my latest to-do list and start highlighting 'quick win' situations which can be nailed in an e-mail or two, then start planning training work for the next few months, six term plans using the girls' ideas, plus organise Guide camp, Rainbow sleepover and all sorts of other exciting projects.

A new microwave has been installed in the kitchen.  It has a button which simply says 'chaos'.  I like this.

If anyone reads this far (I wouldn't have) - thanks for sharing this adventure with me.  If you've enjoyed it, tell someone about it and maybe they will enjoy it too.  If you have a friend who might offer me a lucrative publishing deal, then definitely tell them about it.  If you didn't enjoy it, then just accept my apologies and leave it at that.

I've experienced two new places, many different cultures, made numerous friends along the way, spoken plenty of French, laughed, cried, prayed, read and even relaxed a little.  I go on an adventures for self-discovery; to learn, to grow, to be challenged, to think, to write, and just to be.  I highly recommend it.  

Until next time.