The flight I booked from London to Lima had an odd departure time - 5ish in the morning. Being a budget traveller, my only choice was to spend a night in the airport on a cold hard bench. I waved good-bye to my friend who accommodated me in the past week and felt a little lonely and lost. Unsuccessful to obtain a working visa, I had decided to leave UK for good and was to start a 3-month journey to the continent of Latin American all by myself before returning to Taiwan.
Although still in early September, nights in London already felt quite chilly. I waited almost 2 hours in the open station for the last coach to Stansted airport - an airport outside of London that I had not heard of in my 2 years of living there.
14-hour flight went by pretty smoothly, with only one stop in Aruba to change plane (pity didn't get to enjoy the beach as sung in "Cocktail"). It was 7ish pm when I finally went through immigration in Lima international airport (not quite of an "international" standard though), much later than I had planned. Having to get to city after dark worried me a little - certainly not the best option for a single female traveller.
For some reasons I saw no other passengers when finally stepped out of the terminal. Not knowing exactly where to stay, I decided to head for the city first. Just when I was waiting to fetch a cab, a woman came forth and asked if I needed a hotel room. Hesitated, I asked whether she had a good offer. She escorted me to a booth a few steps away, recommended me a "pensión" (lodging) near city centre that suits my budget (US15 a night) and the next minute I found myself in a cab she had arranged for me.
I was a bit nervous during the ride, having absolutely no clue about where the cab driver was taking me. We rode quietly along winding roads and through run-down looking neighbourhoods (think those crime scenes in the movies). It seemed hours long before I finally spotted some city lights - a great relief!! By then I knew I wasn't going to be robbed and killed.
When we finally got to a street corner, another stressful scene appeared - crowds swelling in from all directions and police mounted on horses shouting to keep some sort of order. My cab driver pulled over in front of an iron gate and hurried me to quickly take shelter inside the gate. Obviously a riot was going on in the city, I thought to myself (back then Peru was politically unstable and ruling government was still fighting guerrilla in mountain regions).
The "pensión" is an old colonian house with a spacious foyer, dimly lit. A lady emerged from a dark end to greet me. After exchanging a few sentences with the driver in Spanish, she led me to a tiny room at the far end of a corridor upstairs. I thought of the song "Hotel California". My room consists of a single bed and a writing top. There's just enough space between the bed and the wall for my backpack. I couldn't care less, finally I felt safe. Not even bothered to get any food I just crashed in.......
p.s. The "riot" I thought it was when I arrived turned out to be audience coming out of a football match. Apparently the "pensión" I stayed was located right next to the city's football stadium......
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