Magic words

Much as I love to live in England, however pleased I am that we have four distinct seasons (even if they don’t necessarily come in the order expected) on this miserable January afternoon, I was glad to be heading to summertime somewhere.  It didn’t even bother me that our journey this time won’t be exclusively in tropical climes: I didn’t mind packing a mac, and umbrella and a few layers of clothing.  It was good to escape!

We both get excited by the swooosh of the huge jets passing overhead as we near the airport and look forward to doing the same ourselves in a while.  Those of you who know us will understand we are planners; we like to know what’s what but for the first time this first part of the trip had given my hero cause for concern.  We had two different booking references you see.  Not only that, but when we went into our BA account, there were double bookings there too.  So phone calls have been made, conversations had and varying degrees of reassurance offered that all would be well.  The explanation was all to do with code shares.  Seems like our flight to Madrid was booked with Iberia but is actually a code share with BA and the Madrid-Lima bit was a similar arrangement with LAN.  OK.  None of that mattered to us except there was one nightmare scenario: if we failed to use one of those two outbound bookings, the return leg might be cancelled!  But we couldn’t see how to check in twice for the same flight….

Thankfully, all was well, even if the supposedly BA service to Madrid turned out to be Iberia.  did it matter?  Not at all.  But this was a long journey and we were only just at the start.  Two hours to Madrid, an hour transfer time and then another 11 and a half on a LAN 767 to Lima, departing 0035.  We can’t do that kind of thing in economy any more, I’m afraid, so at least we get a comfortable ride with a bit more space and a duvet to sleep under.

We arrived in Lima at 5.40am, almost an hour early and hot footed it to the immigration where our early arrival was causing problems.  The passenger manifest had not yet been uploaded to the passport control system yet and the baggage handlers didn’t seem to be ready either.  We watched as almost everyone collected their bags and feared the worst for ours.

Phew.

The traffic is crazy here and we were glad to be taken care of!  But best of all were those magic words we heard as we checked into our hotel at 7.30am – your room is ready now.

Not only that, there’s a spectacular view of the ocean and the day is warming up nicely already.

I know Lesley is concerned for the travelling companions, so here’s reassurance that they are doing fine!

They made a bee line for the comfy bed to begin with but soon changed their minds when they spotted the perfect place to spend the day.

Having showered and changed, we’re going off in search of an Inca site and will find a bit of fun along the way, I’m sure.  We have a recommendation for supper tonight where we can eat some of the favourite Peruvian dishes we learned to cook a couple of years ago, because once we leave Lima tomorrow, there’ll be fewer opportunities to eat local.

I must say, from the minute we arrived, we remembered how much we love Peru!  The slightly formal, rather officious immigration officer whose facial features place him and his forebears absolutely in this place, smiled and nodded when I thanked him for squeezing the entry stamp into a small space in my passport rather than slap bang in the middle of an empty page.  He grinned and nodded – “welcome”.

It’s so good to be back!

I hate this bit

One suitcase is packed.  On a trip like this, my hero and I travel with two medium sized suitcases each and we always pack our own things.  Though we are not off till tomorrow afternoon, I wanted to get the bulk of the things sorted, because who knows what distraction tomorrow might bring that’s preferable to packing a suitcase?

Anyway, it was easy to pack this first one and fill it with cruise-only things.  A couple of dresses, party shoes, sunny day things and cold weather gear, because our itinerary will involve a range of temperatures and we will need a variety of layers which work together.  Having got it comfortably full, I closed the lid, zipped it up and weighed it.

17.7kg.

“Oh that’s good, not so heavy at all” said my hero.

“Oh good, I can take a couple of extra tops” said I.

So one suitcase stands closed up and (maybe) complete, whilst the other one is open on my bed awaiting all those things which can’t be put in until tomorrow – hair and make up stuff, contacts, a couple of chargers and so on.

And I know at least one friend who is curious about what I’ve packed in the “journal” category.

A compact bundle is the answer.

I thought about it and decided that I would feel bereft without the basics, at least.  Oh and a bag of water soluble crayons.

The pink pencil box contains those essentials: the four mini ink pads, a couple of sheets of travel-related stamps, a couple of washi tapes, a glue stick, scissors, ruler and a date stamp.

There’s my small Martha Stewart concertina file to collect ephemera for my Project Life album when I get back.  I find it easy to catch up that way and can simply slot it all in place at home later.  I created a card for each port of call and those are in there ready for my observations.  I’m hoping I know what will be written in the first two lines: dulce de leche and pisco sour!

And I simply couldn’t travel without a notebook of some kind, even if I decide to do something more elaborate and creative.  So I put in the cahiers and the brown paper Midori.

Now, I’m sitting here wondering if I’ve thought of everything.  Do I need an additional long sleeved T shirt?  What about a hat (as well as the ear warmers?)  Have I packed sufficient dressy/casual/cool/warm clothes?  What do I always wish I’d brought (but didn’t)?  I have another 20 hours to think those things and yes, I really dislike this bit.

This time tomorrow, I’ll be ok though.  We’ll be on our way to the airport to fly first to Madrid where we’ll transfer to a LAN flight to Lima to begin our adventure in South America.  I hope you’re going to join us on our trip and swim alongside?

It’s not only me…

Further to my post a couple of days ago, look what was on the news this morning.

It happened here too.

Testing testing

I mentioned that I bought a couple of things in the art shop on Saturday.  With the travel journal in mind, I thought I’d look at a couple of notebook options.

I liked the look of these Midori spiral bound notebooks, especially the one with the brown paper pages.  It’s never simple, though, is it – they didn’t have my favourite small size in brown, just white…so I bought both the small white and the larger brown one, just to try.

I already had a new pack of small Moleskine Cahiers, tried and tested for handbag use.

I also bought a couple of the squared paper Oxford notebooks from a French supermarket when we were there last. 

I love that “papier satiné”  (sorry about the reflection – the covers are very shiny!)

I’d got a new set of tiny ink pads in my chosen palette for this trip too, so got out my trusty rubber stamp to do a bit of a test.

I used the first page as a test ground and stamped two colours to see which paper will be most likely to allow the ink to soak through.

Beginning top left and working clockwise, here’s what came through to the other side of the page in firstly, the small white Midori, then the brown paper Midori, the Moleskine and finally, the squared paper Oxford.

I wasn’t surprised by the Moleskine, because I’ve always regarded that as the main shortcoming of the brand (and one of the reasons I tend to scribble in pencil).  But the Oxford totally let me down too.  Maybe it’s going to be a brown paper journal this time?

But please…

If you are sitting in a theatre, a concert hall or similar and you are rather pleased with your long blonde hair,  please think of those sitting immediately behind you and refrain from throwing your head back and running your fingers through it at regular intervals.  Actually, you could try to sit still during the concert too.  I excused what I thought was a young woman sitting in front of me until she turned around and revealed herself to be well beyond middle aged. 

Should know better.

Oh, and whilst we’re at it,  as we sat enjoying Guys and Dolls in the Savoy Theatre the other night, the woman next to me brought out a Tesco bag and proceeded to eat her supper with a knife and fork, balancing a variety of containers on her knee.  What?  Might she have starved to death if she’d waited a couple of hours to sit at a table and eat in a more appropriate place?  Did she think that those around her were enjoying the aroma of her garlicky, heavily spiced food?

Just don’t get me (or my hero) started on the extraordinarily loud, amplified music being played by groups here and there on street corners, will you?

(even if it does meet the guidelines)