Lima is pretty much as I remember it... hot, dirty, loud and confusing. I have been staying at a lovely family residence this time, and have the company of Consuelo and Raul from Santiago.
Sunny hours of walking around, chatting and shopping. The view from the cliffs has not changed, but I certainly have.
How odd it felt to stand in the Tarapoto airport lounge, looking out on the hillside view I remembered distinctly from my arrival 2 months earlier, and watching the arriving passengers take the same photos I had. The effort needed to reach in and extract the memory (in the visual, ethereal and experiential sense) was quite extraordinary however. It seemed a lifetime ago.
I know that when I return to Courtenay I will slip back into the good life I have built. But right then, spirit free, I could envision the possibilities in staying... or those of moving on as life would direct me.
Reality intrudes with painful tummy cramps, my lot for the past week. It is not only my plane ticket reminding me it is time to come home.
Toronto on tuesday, Kelowna the 31st, Vacouver the 3rd and BC ferry bound on the 7th or 8th. Or that`s what my tickets say. We plan, G-d laughs.
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