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Vignettes of a Lazy Traveller

La drunken perdida

PERU | Tuesday, 28 April 2009 | Views [749]

She is passed out on the couch to the side of the bar. Though she rouses herself enough to lean over the arm of the chair and throw up. I can´t see her face, but she is pale and wears the tell all travel shoes.

-Do you speak English? I ask, confident of her reply. She nods her head, her eyes closed. Obviously not capable of said English at the moment however.

-Do you have English speaking friends here? She nods again.

-Travelling with you? nod.

 I leave her to scour the bar for people who do-not-belong: pale (or overly tanned) quick dry pants and "genuine peruvian souvenier" earrings, who are struggling with the salsa beat but swaying a little from the 2 pisco sours they just drank. I don´t find any. The little buggers have left.

I return to her vomitous side.

-Do you know where you´re staying? a nod.

-Do you know how to get there? a shake

Can you tell me the name of it? a shake

Can you write it down? a nod.

We get a pen and she struggles to write something illegible down. I translate it as "Femandss". I ask one of the locals if he knows this, he shakes his head. "There is no such place"

Do you know the address? a shake. The local asks a taxi driver, the doorman, looks it up in the phone book all to no avail. there is no place called Femandss. Great, she had alcohol induced dyslexia as well.

-Look I will walk you to where you think it is, and then if we can´t find it you can stay at my hostel. nod

We drag her up and put her against a pole while I say my goodbyes to my new friends. She is someones sister, I guess, and now I have to help. Damn my conscience. She falls to the ground.

We pick her up and off we go.

-Do you have money? she puts her hand to her pocket and mumbles "It´s gone". Great. and now she´s been robbed.

For more than an hour we go up and down the streets as she vaguely sobers up and says "I know it is down THIS street", "this street" "Maybe this one". I practice my patience. I hold her hand and her arm to steady her walk. We ask people as we go: I explain in broken spanish: she is perdido: lost, do you know where a three star hotel that might be called Femandss is?

What else do I have to do, really? She only got here today. got to the hostel, walked to the plaza then went and had dinner and a few drinks. Apparently the altitude can make it hit you harder. I am being kind, understanding, patricupating in someone´s "near miss" travel tale. I have had more than enough travel angels, now it is time to be one.

But then I get tired

-We are going to my hostel. a nod.

We walk

On the corner before my hostel she says

"but when we get to your hostel I´m goign to my hotel cos i know where it is now"

I. slightly. Lose it.

ARE YOU FREAKING KIDDING ME? I HAVE JUST SPENT TWO HOURS MAKING SURE YOU DONT GET KILLED OR RAPED...DO YOU KNOW WHERE YOUR HOTEL IS? a shake

DO YOU HAVE ANY MONEY? a shake

DO YOU HAVE ANY FRIENDS HERE?  shake

DO YOU SPEAK ANY SPANISH AT ALL? a shake

sorry, but freaking hell, it is bedtime.

She quietly comes back to my hostel and i tuck her into one of the dorm beds.

My the time I wake up, she is gone.

Thank god.

Tags: drunk, lost, new zealand, perdida

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