Goodbye my friends

The remainder of my time with Stumbles and Flip was well spent. We spent our last night in Huaraz relaxing, resting, and trying to dry out our soaking clothes. The next morning was a stunningly bright one for the normally rainy Huaraz and we all sat outside at a restaurants patio already looking back on the adventures we'd had together this trip. We could say things like "Hey Beacon, remember that time we fell into a glacial lake in Peru?" and, to us, it was hilarious.

Remembering the journeys we'd taken in the last week and how the already unbreakable bond between thru-hikers had been reinforced even more. Stumbles and Flip were ready to go home and see their friends and family, it was with a heavy heart that I got on the bus to Lima knowing my two friends would be leaving me that night. Even so, the evolution of the scenery outside the bus window did well to keep me distracted. 

Looking back on Huaraz 

Into the desert 

And finally to the coast

We spent the bus ride enjoying the scenery and watching movies in Español. Once we finally arrived in Lima, and the end was near, I can't say I was excited about the adventure ahead of me. I was more sad about the friends I would no longer have with me in Peru. Wasn't worried, just knew I'd miss them. And then, out of nowhere it was time. The couchsurfer, Marcus, I was staying with in Lima found me and it was goodbye Stumbles and Flip. Goodbye hugs were given and then I was off. Off on the next adventure.

I learned a lot about Lima from Marcus that night, most importantly being how the public buses work. Because it's insane. This is how I understood it: you go stand on a corner somewhere and a van rolls by with a guy hanging out the door yelling out where they're going and if your stop is on the way to that destination you jump into the van, often times it seemed without the van stopping. And there are 2, 3, 4 vans pulling in at a time all yelling out a place and people running over and jumping in with every van packed. There certainly was a time I wasn't even completely in the van and was hanging halfway outside as we headed on our way. Don't be fooled though, this was organized chaos and everyone knew what they were doing. It seemed like the most normal thing in the world to them I'm sure. 

Now there is something about a dirty city that is just attractive and ye know what it is? It's culture, it's true pure bred culture. Because being inside a city raises a different sort of person than being outside and it's just interesting to look at and get lost in ye know? I've already spent mornings with old men by the beach and been catcalled (hilarious) up and down the streets of Lima at this point and it's been grand. But getting lost in it isn't the important part. Lot's of people think losing yourself is the fun part. They think throwing away all your cares and getting engulfed by something is the part that keeps things exciting and unpredictable, but I disagree. Losing yourself is a fun part, yes, just not the best. No, losing yourself is not the best part. Finding yourself again after you've been lost is what I yearn for. 

Be happy, 

Beacon