After fucking about for ages and trying to convince the cab driver that we were not complete lunatics, we were escorted to a hotel somewhere else in our new stomping ground of Lima. We purchased a couple of bottles of Vodka on the way; one of which someone smashed while we waited in the lobby to check in, great start. It took a while to settle in and calm the storm that was Ultimate Fighting Lima but we soon KO'd.
At about 2pm the following day Gaz and I were awoken with Nefs, Colin and Jon storming into the room with news. They had met some Peruanos at a local cafe and arranged to buy 1oz of Peruvian Coke. I questioned their motives reminding them that we were not staying in Lima, but they were convinced that it was a good deal and that it was also the smallest quantity available. Still half asleep, Gaz and I were in no mood to argue and let them get on with it. They were all high and had blatantly been plied with some quality shit. Apparently there were four people in this cafe. One with a Marsbar sized scar down his face, another Boliviano who apparently seemed honest (!) and another beady little weird guy with long fingernails and small circular glasses. Perhaps someone could comment after I publish this with more detailing! Colin had been ordered by the scar bearing ring leader to fondle a girl who sat in the corner of the cafe and was instructed as follows: "IN PERU, YOU HAVE TO TOUCH THE PUSSY, IF YOU DON'T, THE GELL SHE WILL THINK YOU ARE FAGGOT." Colin, obviously not wanting to seem like a gay complied after more shots of cocaine, taken from the guy's elongated fingernails. Next was Jon's turn, although with the slight variation of ass not pussy. I can only imagine what this poetic scene looked like: Colin getting off with some small Peruvian bird, eyes closed, with his finger inserted into her vagina, opening his eyes to find Jon behind her also fingering a separate entrance. Nefs on the other had come back to the hotel to obtain more cash for weed.
They later all returned absolutely wired and elated from their little Peruvian adventure. Jon ordered me to have a wake-up shot of their recent acquisition. I Staunchly declined but watched intently as Colin had a knife corner of coke. Jon then dug Nefs a shot; Nefs took a dab first and informed us all that it was, in fact, salt. Yes, an ounce of salt for a clean US$200. Jon then pulled open the packet of weed and looked pleased. "At least we weren't completely skanked, this is definitely weed." I got up and had a look, and replied to Jon "Errr mate, that's grass and mud."
All together an unsuccessful first day. I could not believe they bought without trying. Nefs says he did try to test it but the guy pulled some trick where he tapped the package of coke on the table releasing some powder, he now knows that the guy had a little wrap hidden up his sleave. Oh dear boys, not a good start.
Arthur came to meet us that afternoon and after having a laugh about it, we decided to get the fuck out of Lima quick sharp. Gringos are traditionally skanked left, right and centre. That night we went for some absolutely disgusting chicken, chips that were uncooked and a drink in a few local bars. The general consensus was Lima was a complete shithole, full of cunts that see gringos as dumb, walking cash machines.
The next day was kinda blurry but I recall getting up exceedingly early to check out the breakfast options. I walked round the corner and up the road, noting a huge pink colonial church, I stopped to admire the architecture, which was fairly intricate but nothing astounding. I poked my head through the door but the inside was dull and even less impressive. McDonalds was closed but looked tempting (sorry, I know) The only other place open was a small cafe offering Desajuno Creollo or Americano, I asked what Creollo was but did not understand the response other than tomata, cebola (onion) and coffee. Being a fan of all three and despite the hazy comprehension I went ahead and ordered for myself and my two other roommates Colin, Gaz. It was gonna take a while to cook so I continued my roam. Just two minutes away was a door guarded by a small, noisy man shouting 'INTERNTER' over and over and over again. I ducked in for a 10 minute session; obviously unable to resist his hypnotic charm.
At about 2pm the following day Gaz and I were awoken with Nefs, Colin and Jon storming into the room with news. They had met some Peruanos at a local cafe and arranged to buy 1oz of Peruvian Coke. I questioned their motives reminding them that we were not staying in Lima, but they were convinced that it was a good deal and that it was also the smallest quantity available. Still half asleep, Gaz and I were in no mood to argue and let them get on with it. They were all high and had blatantly been plied with some quality shit. Apparently there were four people in this cafe. One with a Marsbar sized scar down his face, another Boliviano who apparently seemed honest (!) and another beady little weird guy with long fingernails and small circular glasses. Perhaps someone could comment after I publish this with more detailing! Colin had been ordered by the scar bearing ring leader to fondle a girl who sat in the corner of the cafe and was instructed as follows: "IN PERU, YOU HAVE TO TOUCH THE PUSSY, IF YOU DON'T, THE GELL SHE WILL THINK YOU ARE FAGGOT." Colin, obviously not wanting to seem like a gay complied after more shots of cocaine, taken from the guy's elongated fingernails. Next was Jon's turn, although with the slight variation of ass not pussy. I can only imagine what this poetic scene looked like: Colin getting off with some small Peruvian bird, eyes closed, with his finger inserted into her vagina, opening his eyes to find Jon behind her also fingering a separate entrance. Nefs on the other had come back to the hotel to obtain more cash for weed.
They later all returned absolutely wired and elated from their little Peruvian adventure. Jon ordered me to have a wake-up shot of their recent acquisition. I Staunchly declined but watched intently as Colin had a knife corner of coke. Jon then dug Nefs a shot; Nefs took a dab first and informed us all that it was, in fact, salt. Yes, an ounce of salt for a clean US$200. Jon then pulled open the packet of weed and looked pleased. "At least we weren't completely skanked, this is definitely weed." I got up and had a look, and replied to Jon "Errr mate, that's grass and mud."
All together an unsuccessful first day. I could not believe they bought without trying. Nefs says he did try to test it but the guy pulled some trick where he tapped the package of coke on the table releasing some powder, he now knows that the guy had a little wrap hidden up his sleave. Oh dear boys, not a good start.
Arthur came to meet us that afternoon and after having a laugh about it, we decided to get the fuck out of Lima quick sharp. Gringos are traditionally skanked left, right and centre. That night we went for some absolutely disgusting chicken, chips that were uncooked and a drink in a few local bars. The general consensus was Lima was a complete shithole, full of cunts that see gringos as dumb, walking cash machines.
The next day was kinda blurry but I recall getting up exceedingly early to check out the breakfast options. I walked round the corner and up the road, noting a huge pink colonial church, I stopped to admire the architecture, which was fairly intricate but nothing astounding. I poked my head through the door but the inside was dull and even less impressive. McDonalds was closed but looked tempting (sorry, I know) The only other place open was a small cafe offering Desajuno Creollo or Americano, I asked what Creollo was but did not understand the response other than tomata, cebola (onion) and coffee. Being a fan of all three and despite the hazy comprehension I went ahead and ordered for myself and my two other roommates Colin, Gaz. It was gonna take a while to cook so I continued my roam. Just two minutes away was a door guarded by a small, noisy man shouting 'INTERNTER' over and over and over again. I ducked in for a 10 minute session; obviously unable to resist his hypnotic charm.
When I returned to the hotel with the goods, they were both gone, so I sat on the floor to enjoy my breakfast. I opened the black bin liner packaging and was surprised to discover a meal of stir-fried mince and veg with bread. Not my idea of breakfast "fuckit," I thought, "I always enjoy left over curry for breakfast back in England." so ate it anyway, it was delicious!
Gaz and Cole soon returned and joined me, although informed me that they had just had a slightly more 'normal' breakfast downstairs with some delicious marmalade.
Later that morning, after rallying the rest of the troops, we had some lunch downstairs in the restaurant. Nefs arranged to get tickets to Cusco through the hotel and they sent for some fat woman who took about an hour to arrive. She spoke perfect English and sorted it all out for us. Although just before breaking the deal, informed us that two of us would have to fly 'first class' as all the economy seats were taken. We agreed to split the extra cost and let random chance decide who would get luxury seating. While the deal was being done, Colin had been out shopping. He returned from just around the corner boasting a prize in the form of a 'High Quality Fashion Watch' which included 'Move Minutely' feature but best of all actually spoke in Spanish, telling the time at the touch of a button. Gaz and I were more than impressed and had to have one, so followed Cole to the stall around the corner. In addition to the must-have watch, the vendor sold us three Spiderman masks for a few pennies. I sported the standard red mask while Gaz and Cole adorned the Venom-style black ones. What followed was a return to childhood fantasy games of 'Let's pretend'. I - being the leader in red - ran through the streets followed by Colin and Gaz chasing behind me. I stopped turned around and ushered my gang of Spidermen forward shouting "Come aan, LETS GO" in an American accent. The Peruvians, including a couple of police, had a mixed reaction to this; some were amazed by this scene and cheered us on with their clapping and laughing; others looked completely confused and some were totally unfazed as if this were normal. We burst back into the restaurant and almost died of heart attacks, pissing ourselves with laughter, while the quite diners thought they were being jacked!
We eventually got to the airport and checked in for our flight. There was no first class. Skanked again.
Gaz and Cole soon returned and joined me, although informed me that they had just had a slightly more 'normal' breakfast downstairs with some delicious marmalade.
Later that morning, after rallying the rest of the troops, we had some lunch downstairs in the restaurant. Nefs arranged to get tickets to Cusco through the hotel and they sent for some fat woman who took about an hour to arrive. She spoke perfect English and sorted it all out for us. Although just before breaking the deal, informed us that two of us would have to fly 'first class' as all the economy seats were taken. We agreed to split the extra cost and let random chance decide who would get luxury seating. While the deal was being done, Colin had been out shopping. He returned from just around the corner boasting a prize in the form of a 'High Quality Fashion Watch' which included 'Move Minutely' feature but best of all actually spoke in Spanish, telling the time at the touch of a button. Gaz and I were more than impressed and had to have one, so followed Cole to the stall around the corner. In addition to the must-have watch, the vendor sold us three Spiderman masks for a few pennies. I sported the standard red mask while Gaz and Cole adorned the Venom-style black ones. What followed was a return to childhood fantasy games of 'Let's pretend'. I - being the leader in red - ran through the streets followed by Colin and Gaz chasing behind me. I stopped turned around and ushered my gang of Spidermen forward shouting "Come aan, LETS GO" in an American accent. The Peruvians, including a couple of police, had a mixed reaction to this; some were amazed by this scene and cheered us on with their clapping and laughing; others looked completely confused and some were totally unfazed as if this were normal. We burst back into the restaurant and almost died of heart attacks, pissing ourselves with laughter, while the quite diners thought they were being jacked!
We eventually got to the airport and checked in for our flight. There was no first class. Skanked again.
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