Entourage

While our spring break plans didn’t start anywhere close to where they finally ended up, fate has us back on our way to the Galapagos Islands, a once in a lifetime twice in a lifetime pretty regular destination for the Roberts’, this time as a small horde. Leaving Seattle, where we’ve picked up the newest member of our group, Travelin’ Gran, there is a palpable sense of excitement.

15 hours later, after checking in, clearing security, flying to LAX, changing terminals, checking in again, clearing security again, flying to Lima, clearing customs, and driving to our hotel, the cracks are starting to show in the wisdom of our plan.

With 13 hours to kill before our next flight, we have opted to see a bit of the city instead of holing up at the airport. It’s not a lot of time, but the hotel is the same one we stayed at with Sam a few years ago near the old city, so walking distance to a few of highlights. Along the way we pick up a few street cart snacks, with churros winning the best reviews.

The main stop is the the Convento de San Francisco, a monastery dating back to 1673. Angela and I remember it from our last trip here for its stunning library and hall of paintings by Rubens and Van Dyck, but the big attraction for the boys is the catacombs. Holding the remains of more than 20,000 people, wandering through the twisty passages and seeing bones stacked up and arranged in a variety of designs has teenager written all over it.

No photography is allowed in the Monastary so I’ve taken the liberty of co-opting a few images from Google.

By this time, the enormity of our itinerary has settled in (what were we thinking?), and with the exception of Nick and I, everyone heads back to the hotel for a few hours of sleep. Nick has taken to learning Spanish with an interest I can only dream I had 30 years ago sitting in French class wondering why my female teacher had hairier armpits than I did. And while the travel has worn him down, the opportunity to hear the people speak and try to understand all the signs is too much to pass up.

As the last two standing, we head off in the direction where I think I remember the local market being. It takes a few course corrections, but we finally find ourselves in the middle of the organized chaos, where pretty much everything is for sale if you are patient enough to locate the right stall. We also find a polleria (which will make Sam sad, as they are his favorite restaurants in Peru) and stop for a quick plate of chicken and fries. I guess it makes sense for a country that has 3,800 different kinds of potatoes, but I think the french fries here are some of the best in the world.

By this point, Nick is starting to fade and I need a few hours to catch up on work, so we decide to call it a day and head back to the hotel as well. In just a few hours we’ll be headed back to the airport for the next leg of our journey, so not much rest for the weary.