Lima

The tower of the Palacio Municipal in Miraflores, Lima.

I haven't talked much about this trip because I dithered for months before committing, and I still wasn't entirely sure that I wouldn't cancel until I left for the airport yesterday morning. (Slight exaggeration, but only slight.)

But here I am. I've only taken a few plane trips since the pandemic upended all of our lives—Minneapolis, the Bay Area twice, Costa Rica last summer—and it's been obvious that my travel skills have atrophied. I book flights for the wrong days (in one case, for the wrong week). I don't pack enough clothes. I get hotels with similar names mixed up. It all just seems so much harder than it used to.

But here I am. At least I managed to figure out that I would want an extra night in Lima before the tour started; I didn't get to the hotel until almost eleven o'clock last night, so I was very glad that I didn't have to be anywhere today. It was much warmer than I'd expected, so after looking around Miraflores and taking some pictures, I headed for the parks above the Pacific beaches. I found chocolate chip cookies from the airport lounge in my purse, and I ate them while sitting on a bench looking at the ocean and enjoying the breezes. It was lovely.

But walking back was a slog, and I was too tired to deal with a restaurant, so I bought a piece of cheese focaccia and some bananas in a supermarket and ate dinner lying on my bed in my air-conditioned hotel room. Ah yes, the glamor of travel! It's all coming back to me.