Dansk

On arrival in Lima, I wanted to exchange my book and conveniently, in the Lima hostel, they had a book-exchange shelf. It contained surprisingly few English titles and surprisingly many German and Scandinavian books. There was also the odd French or Spanish book. I found a book in Swedish that I really wanted to read; it was called “Vad gör alla superokända människor hela dagarna” (What are all super-unknown people doing everyday; free translation) by Fredrik Lindström. The book was great and I had finished it well before I left Lima.

I should take advantage of the book-exchange shelf, I thought, so I have something to read on the bus. But strangely enough, I was not allowed to exchange the book for an English title as they had so few quality English books left, not even though I previously swapped it in for an English book in the first place.

I had a second look on the shelf and the remaining Swedish books looked kind of lame, so I finally chose the Danish book; “Døden kommer til middag” (Death Comes at High Noon), a filmed criminal story by the Danish author Peter Sander.

The book was exciting and reading the language was not too difficult after all. And although I didn’t really travel here to learn Danish, it first didn’t really bother me that much.

But in Arequipa, at a new hostel and after about 75% into the book, I woke up one morning, one hour before the alarm clock and couldn’t really sleep. I went to bed fairly early but at the same time as I was too tired to actually get up. At that moment, when you are lying in your bed thinking inner thoughts, I caught myself thinking random words/thoughts in Danish. “Værelse, kone, politi, jeg elsker dig, brandhane, læge, tømmerhandlare” … but hang on a second, what kind of stupid dreams do I have? Why the heck am I thinking about a ”tømmerhandlare” in Peru? Enough of this shit language, I decided, and quickly finished the book the next day in order to be able to exchange it at the hostel before going up in the valley (where they surely didn’t have a book-exchanges, even less traded Danish books).

When scanning this small one-tier bookshelf, I didn’t find much of interest until the very end, where I came across “Eleven minutes” by Paolo Coelho, my favourite author! And I hadn’t even read this one, can it be more perfect?

Well, I can think of one thing: on the front page it said “Elleve minutter” and it was printed in Copenhagen, Denmark…

Arequipa

Arequipa is located in the southern Peru. It is surrounded by wild terrain, which feasts on active volcanoes, thermal springs, high-altitude deserts and the deepest canyon in the world.

Arequipa itself is Peru's second largest city, a beautiful such. A cone-shaped volcano rises majestically behind the cathedral on the main square but unfortunately, like most times, it was a bit too cloudy to fully enjoy it.

The pictures below will witness of a beautiful shady plaza surrounded by colonial buildings, a massive cathedral and... another picture that is slightly offside (but it was taken on the bus between Lima and Arequipa and therefore is included here).

The weirdest day of my trip

Every trip has to have one weirdest day. I have not returned yet but this will surely be a strong candidate whatever happens to me in Argentina.

I woke up quite late this day after having made an effort on the night life in Lima. Nothing special, just visited a couple of bars, a peña (a local drinking place, often featuring traditional dancing) and finally a dance club. Not much to drink, not at all. No hungover, nothing. Just a bit tired.

I didn’t have much planned for the early morning so I could do with using the Internet for a while. I connected my laptop to the wireless network while still in bed and started reading the news and the emails. There was a message there from a girl I didn’t really quite recognise, even less expect a message from. A Spanish name. So what is now this, I wondered, and opened it.

- “Hey you, you are in Lima?” it said. Well, its written all over my Facebook where I am so not too strange that strangers can see where I am. It continued: - “I can see you are in Lima, I saw you in the club yesterday and you had these and these clothes”. I sounded very correct to me, and I started to become worried, what was this all about?

After reading a bit of the message history, I concluded that it was a person I had talked to before to practice my Spanish online. I had no memory of where she lived or what she looked like but for some strange reason I was recognised in the dance club. Impressive. But she did not say hello or anything so all very weird and strange. Bad friend.

An hour later, I was still confused and not in the mood to do much (still online), when someone knocks on the door and asks if I am from Älvdalen. Älvdalen (lit. River Valley) is the name of the little town, deep in the Swedish forest, where I grew up. Even few Swedish people know where it actually is located. - “What the f-k, enough of this persecution you monkies, what do you want?” I thought... But I didn’t say it. Instead I answered something more diplomatically like: - “eeh, yes, how do you know..?”, but in Swedish of course, and still not recognising the person.

As some kind of a response to my question he continued to ask: - “Have you, or do you have a brother that has studied in Norrköping?” What a relief, he didn’t recognise me either, so nothing to be ashamed of! But nonetheless correct again. They seem to know everything about me today, where I go dancing, my clothes, my birthtown and where I study. This is fucking Lima with ten million people, what are the damn odds???

At that very moment I also realised who was standing in front of me. It was an old friend, not far from Älvdalen (from Leksand to be exact), who I used to share the corridor with at the student halls during the first half year of Uni. During the time when everything is so new, you meet so many people and you also forget so many.

The rest of the day I took it easy, shocked by the last events. And I didn’t dare go out in the evening.

Karaoke-night

I remember a warm summer night, some years ago, when I was walking around on a local town-festival back home with my good friend Ulf. There was a karaoke-caravan and someone was inside it, singing CCR’s “Cotton Fields”. The horrific sound spread through the warm summer air at the lake-side town, effectively drowning the pleasant background festival noise.

Ulf said: -“If I am ever about to do something like that, please stop me!” I could nothing but agree, as I wasn’t that keen on karaoke at all. In fact, I am not the best singer.

So returning to the present; Ulf, why are you not here when I need you? You told me you should stop me!

Not even being recklessly drunk, I happened to end up in a karaoke-place and had to sing not one but three (!) songs. I have no idea how bad it sounded; something I am glad for.

A thought I had the other day: instead of avoiding it, maybe it would be better to practice. Because in the end, it seems to be unavoidable. I have recently escaped very nearly twice already! Having said that, that is absolutely no excuse to drag me out on karaoke-nights. Forget it!

Performing a Beatles-duet with Jacky’s mom. Luckily Jacky and her dad were asleep so two people less to worry about...

Parties

A few pictures from some parties in Lima with Jacky and the Sánchez family. We had all a great time in Lima and I will remember it as the best moment of my trip.

Lima

Originally, I did not plan to spend more than a couple of days in Lima, but it finally summed up to nine days before I left for Arequipa. My time in Lima coincided with my dear friend Jacky’s holiday, which she spent in Lima with her parents, so I stayed a little bit longer.

Lima is a rough and dangerous place if you head to the historic centre but there are certainly oases in this massive capital (the fourth largest city on the continent) too. I chose to stay in the traveller-friendly and upscale area of Miraflores. Here there are plenty of policemen on the streets and it is safe to walk around at almost any hour of the day. This is also where most of the expensive restaurants, good nightclubs and discos are located. On the downside, it can be difficult to find budget lodging and food here as most people living in Miraflores are rich.

Lima is famous for it's nightlife but although one could spend a couple of days exploring historic sites in the centre, there is little else to do. For a Peru-traveller, Lima is possibly the perfect place to relax and burn some money a few days between being isolated in some remote valley or mountain-range.

Pictures from left:
1) Yellow buildings with characteristic balconies at Plaza de Armas, the central square in the heart of Lima.
2) Another square with white buildings.
3) Lima's seaside beach.
4) Shopping centre by night in Miraflores