Miraflores, Lima

      I arrived safely at my ¨Family House¨Hostel in Miralores to be very impressed by my accomodations- by far in my top 5 hostels ever visited.  When I arrived (last night) I set down my bags and met a British girl staying in my dorm who invited me to venture out to the supermercato with her and a German named Hans. I was somewhat disappointed when we entered ¨Vivandi,¨ a supermarket I´m sure only exists in upscale neighborhoods in Lima.  The place rivaled ¨Whole Foods.¨  I bought some staples¨- bananas, rice, lentils and boxed wine (though my tried and true Clos was available, I tried a new label called Gato).  Miraflores is clearly an upscale part of Lima, and the safest place or tourists.  I learned some from my shopping buddies- Lucinda is from England and just arrived in Peru from California, before that she was in Mexico and Cuba.  She is travelling after working a year as a teacher in England and before starting her Masters program.  Hans came to Peru to work for a Red Cross site in Pozuzo (sp?), a small village which was a German colony settled in 1875.   It sounds like quite an odd mixture of German and Peruvian influence, and Hans said many of the village´s inhabitants speak both Spanish and German, but are much less likely to speak English.  I have added this to my list of places to visit.
       After 2 full days of travelling I was thrilled to have a hot shower back at the hostel, and then I chatted with Lucinda and Hans and a few other travellers- Hans and his travelling companion explained they were both in medical school, and this sparked a conversation about the different education systems in various countries, though mainly Germany, England and the US.  The whole conversation made me extremely aware of how ridiculously expensive high education in my country is.  Hans explained that is Germany, he paid something like 50 dollars a semester for medical school, however the tradeoff comes when very large taxes are taken out of the doctor´s salary.  After quite a bit of conversation about meritocracies, communism, capitalism and the like, I escaped to bed.
          I slept nearly 12 hours, but unfortunately the cold that I felt MIGHT be coming before I left the US still hit me hard when I awoke.  I realized surfing in frigid waters would not be the best for my cold, and so arranged for a bus ticket South to Ica.  There I can relax in the desert sun and perhaps try sand-boarding or dune-buggying. 
         I tried to rest up today as much as possible, though I did explore Miraflores a bit.  The surf-envy I felt as soon as I walked a few blocks away from my hostel to park-adorned cliff above the Pacific made me feeling a bit bitter about my cold, so I have already resolved that I will have to return to Lima, perhaps in the summer when it´s a bit warmer. Will post photos from next hostel- more soon!

Day 1 bogota breakfast, columbia

Well maybe venturing into NYC for the day was a somewhat exhausting way to start my travels, but once I made it to Brooklyn it was well worth it to reunite with the prolific photographer and my past fellow lamb Tory. And I met some friends from Macedonia whilst trying to navigate the jfk baggage storage process. I think they are my first Macedonians I've ever encountered. So after a delicious Thai curry lunch and tour of Brooklyn I braved two more subway lines - I think so tired that I almost purchased a "nutcracker" beverage from a rogue vendor on the a train. I fortunately was not quite delirious enough to test this colorful concoction- perhaps the modern new yorker's moonshine.
I arrived at jfk ready for a nap, but still had to wait a few hours before my 1 am madrugada flight. Spanish does seem to be returning rapidly, though the Avianca airlines people quickly switched to English after I hablared a bit. But we were still in the US at least.
Arrived in Bogota around 5 am and after a fleeting moment of indecision but I though it'd be much easier to stay put rather than set off into scary Bogota on my own, I bit the bullet, got some Columbian pesos and charged towards a payphone to call my Columbian friend Enrique. I met Enrique and two of his friends in Nicaragua, and I believe he actually slept on the bunk below mine in our San Juan del sur hostel.
Taking a cab into Bogota, I took in the towering cordillera of mountains that envelope the city. Tall buildings, lots of road construction, people hissing, biking, walking to get to work on time. I met Enrique, dressed suavely in his corporate businessman attire, in front of the Museo del Oro in the busy center of Bogota. We walked around the old city a bit, which was actually quite picturesque. Photos to come. In the few hours I spent exploring a small part of the capital city, I felt quite safe. I am also under the impression that 1 in 12 Columbianos works for the polizia. On every corner, army green uniformed men stood with large guns and or perros bravos with big muzzles over their mouths. While their presence did make me feel safer, I couldn't help but wonder why there was a need for such a police prsence.
Overall, my short viaje into Bogota made a nice impression on me. What I enjoyed and appreciated most was how helpful and friendly the people were. No matter who I asked for help, they seemed totally happy to point me in the right direction, call me a safe taxista, or offer a simple smile! Oh, and I only heard the "machita" cat call once! Muy buena gente!
I'm now killing time while waiting for my flight to Lima- so far so good!

Me in Bogota!

My Columbian guide, Luis Enrique

THIS IS IT!

So I'm packed and (hopefully) ready for a new adventure.  Tomorrow I set out for Peru... though stops to visit friends in New York and Columbia will prelude my arrival in Lima.  The first trip of this type... no plan, no program, no companions.  Why do I keep leaving my family and friends behind, to set out again, to encounter more challenges, create new connections, start anew?  I hate goodbyes, maybe even more than I hate spiders.  And mayonnaise.  And doing errands.  Yup, goodbyes trump them all.  

 Best idea I have heard in a while: why can't everyone just come with me?