Lima, Peru

We arrived into the Port of Callao at about 5.00am on 1st September. Being way too early for me to arise I tried to continue my slumber. Callao however being a working port had other ideas. I gave up trying to sleep after a cacophony of sound intruded into my cabin. I dragged my sorry backside out of bed so I could head into the city. 

Callao is a suburb of Lima and is about 12.5 kms from the main town. You'd think you could knock that over in 15 minutes but no............ I jumped on the bus and it took me and hour and 20 minutes to get there. This had nothing to do with the driving or the stops (there weren't any) but everything to do with the narrow streets and hectic traffic. Lima didn't make the greatest of impressions as I woke up early, the docks were noisy, the traffic almost immovable and the city in the morning had the characteristics of a slum. I was really hoping the main town would lift my spirits. It got better but I must admit I am still a little ambivalent about the city. 

The first thing I did was to head to a gold museum to check out the Incan Gold. I was promptly disabused about my knowledge of Peruvian history. Not only were the Aztecs pretty late on the scene, there were plenty of textiles and ceramics that predated the Incan stuff by over 1,000 years. The museum had some interesting things that were pretty macabre. Firstly they had real Peruvian mummies. Secondly, they had the ceremonial knives used for ritual sacrifice. Lastly they had real skeletons showing where the knives had been used. I hadn't even had lunch yet. 

I walked through a rejuvenated area of Lima with some "tasteful" displays of public art. he whole are reeked of urine, I mean I have been in nicer smelling piggeries. While enjoying the unusual choice of air freshener I was left to ponder the meaning of some of the public art. One piece in particular struck me. I couldn't find any interpretative signage so I was left to assume that this particular piece was tribute to Lima's greatness in the area of suppositories. 

Arriving into the old town and visited another museum with a bit of a more religious nature. Its proper name, The Museum of the Convent of Santo Domingo, Lima, Peru. It is littered with amazing architecture from the bell tower, the the carved ceilings, the courtyard, the frescos, the oil paintings and the 500 year old library. There is Roman Catholic iconography everywhere and if all this isn't enough they have saved a Holy Chair (their words not mine) and more a thrown really, that Saint John Paul 11 sat on in 1988. Apparently he was known for mild forms of self flagellation so this chair was very much in keeping. I mean it looked so uncomfortable it may have been left over from the Spanish Inquisition. 

From there I headed through the town square where I got to catch up with a woman from Lightning Ridge, caught the end of the changing of the guard outside of the parliament building and headed into the Lima Cathedral and its museum. Here they had the traditional display of over the top opulence one comes to expect from the Catholics. It was impressive in a grotesque kind of way and filled to the brim with tributes to Saints and conquering heroes of yesteryear. Sadly what looked like a once mighty pipe organ had fallen into decay. It was about the only thing in the entire building not dripping in gold leaf and ostentatious carvings. 

I needed some lunch and headed to a place I had seen that looked like a little hole in the wall family restaurant but turned out to produce this most amazing ceviche along with a traditional Peruvian cocktail called a Pisco Sour. Much like a whisky sour it instead uses Pisco a local spirit distilled from grape juice. I really quite fancied it however with two shots of this spirit in every cocktail I would quickly become nicely inebriated and enjoy being rolled for the money I was carrying along with missing the ship and being stuck here in Lima saying my rosary every day. 

To end my sojourn I wandered through a park with an allegedly famous statue depicting two embracing lovers. The guy who carved it had been married three times so it was warming to see for a guy like me who is only up to wife number two that love can triumph over all (excuse me while I throw up a little in my mouth). What this park had however was an amazing view and the best coffee I think I have ever had in my life. It was served by one of the more disagreeable staff members I have ever had the pleasure to meet. Having got my order wrong, then given away my replacement to another person and finally after about 25 minutes delivering what I had assured myself would be absolute rubbish, I had the best cup if coffee I can remember ever tasting. 

I had a quick look around the Indian Markets and jumped the bus back to the good old Crown Princess, went straight to the bar, found some ship mates who I have been drinking with, caught a show then went to bed knowing I could look forward to my 5.00am wake up call from the dock workers at Port.