Getting from Auckland, New Zealand to Lima in Peru was an endurance test that even the most hardened marathon runner would have struggled with. It started with an eight hour overnight flight to LA. We then had ten hours to wait in LA for a flight to San Francisco. When we arrived in LA, our first plan was to arrange a day stay in the local Travelodge in order to get some sleep before the next flight, but the free shuttle pick-up never arrived. Then we realised we weren´t sure of the details of our next flight, so needed to find the right airline terminal or an internet cafe to print out the e-ticket. It was after a few false starts, a lot of walking with our bags on (I had started to develop a bad back by this time) and some tired exchanges, that Ben and I suddenly found ourselves separated in the biggest airport I have ever been to. Our attempts to find each other were fruitless and I began to panic as Ben had both our passports and all the money and I didn´t have a mobile phone.
After stumbling around with teary eyes, I eventually plumped for going to the arrivals hall where I had seen some public phones. Fortunately, I had a bank card and was able to get some cash out for a phone call. I had real trouble trying to work the phones, which kept eating my money and not connecting me, and then Ben didn´t answer his mobile. So, I had to do what every adult hopes they won´t need to do, and called my good old Mum and Dad and asked them to phone Ben and tell him where I was. Fortunately, this plan worked, and I was ecstatic to see Ben wandering into the building about 10 minutes later. Although very stressful, this dramatic interlude did kill about an hour of the ten hours we had to wait!
Finally we got our flight to SF (it was delayed) and we had to run to catch our connection to San Salvador in El Salvador, Central America. At this tiny airport we had another six or seven hours to wait until the final flight to Lima in Peru. We arrived, tired but pleased to be there, and were amazed that both our bags had made all the connections and that our lift to the hostel was waiting for us.
We had been scaring ourselves with the Lonely Planet about how dangerous Lima was going to be, but we spent our one day in the capital in Miraflores, the more upmarket part of town, which had a very visible police presence and felt pretty safe. Probably the scariest thing was the music they played in the empty nightclub that we found ourselves in with some other people from our hostel.
