Brazil to Peru
06/16/10
It was 3:15 a.m. and our hotel phone rang. Our taxi was 15 minutes early. Knowing about all the late night (or early morning) con-artists who take advantage of tourists, I asked Boxie-boo to check to see if the metre was running while I loaded the bags. Since I only had an opportunity for a couple hours of shut-eye, this made me unable sleep.
Outside it was as dark as it gets. Boxie-boo nodded. The metre was not running. I loaded the bags. We sat in the backseat, ready to head to the airport…then he said it. What an asshole.
“The ride costs 60 Reias.”
“Metre,” I sais pointing, leaned forward looking at him with a stern glare straight in his eyes. Boxie-boo, who does not like confrontation, remained silent.
“It is 60 or catch another taxi,” he said. I leaned in closer, tempted to head butt the son of a bitch.
I got out immediately. My heart galloped at race horse speed, my left hand flexed into a rock hard fist. Holding my carry-on bag, I felt my right hand fingers dig into my palms through my backpack straps. I had beem traveling too far, for too long, to deal with this bullshit. The taxi driver got out. I boxer-sized him up for a fight, shook my head, then took one large gulp of air before the plung.
I needed to Zen or drop my pants and pee on him. I decided to Zen.
Taking in a slow, long breath, I released the raging bull living in my bumhole, let go of the grip of my hands, looked up at the blackness above me, before glancing back at the driver with an ability to yoddle or Xena Warrior Princess scream. I shook my head at him. Continued my Zen. I thought about what hotel staff advised a taxi to the airport costs during the day with more traffic. Forty-five Reias. There were no cars in sight or flying pigs. No traffic. We had a plane to catch and the con-artist driver had the upper hand. I did not know how long it would take for another to arrive.
I swallowed what little pride I had left, taking in the empty calories. I offered him 50 Reias. He agreed. During the entire drive, I secretly plotted the driver´s demise like a comic book villan. In my plan, he was to spend the rest of his life forced to work as a drag queen, then die slowly of syphillis and buried in a pet cemetery.
After two flights and 11 hours later, we arrived in Lima, Peru - our first stop with no Visa fee since Botswana. Customs was casual and quick - and for the first time in a while, there was no question about my identity as they did not even look at the clean-shaven, short-haired guy I once was in my passport photograph.
We arranged a taxi through the airport cabbie desk and headed towards the Albergue Miraflowers House.
On the road, we passed vans spray-painted multi-coloured, moving by walls nearby the airport covered from images around the world, and our past: Taj Mahal, Sydney Opera House, Great Wall of China, etc. Interlocking hands connected the images in an area where men in green gowns sweeped the streets out front. In all directions were massive, faded billboards, many brick buildings, while our driver thumb danced on the steering wheel to 60´s music.
Driving across an ocean-side highway, we saw the Pacific Ocean for the first time in months, a different sight from Vancouver, where the waves crashed a dirty dark brown out front of rows of dirt, piles of softball-sized rocks. Boulders. Our driver continuously used his fake police siren horn to skip through traffic, passing escape route signs for tsunamis.
Sweet Caroline, ba ba ba….
Nearing the neighbourhood of our guest house, the area was lined with parks of green grass, the roadway lined with beautiful trees. It looked very similiar to neighbourhoods back home with giant skyrises set in front of well-maintained grass with views of the ocean.
“This area is beautiful,” Boxie-boo said. “They even keep the grass and flowers up to par.”
By the time we arrived at the Albergue Miraflowers House, I had been up for two days and exhausted. It was just what I needed. The guesthouse was comfortable, warm and our room included a private bath, T.V. and a DVD player with free DVDs available. Free internet access was quick, and part way through watching a movie, a staff member dropped us off two free vodka tonics, which tasted terrific. We capped off the night relaxing, remembering to begin our altitude sickness pills in preparation for our next stop - the mountains of Cusco.
That´s all for now.
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