The City of Kings

From the moment you step out of the plane and walk out the doors of Lima's international airport, you cannot help but be struck by the dissonance of the images surrounding you.

Through the wave of heat, haze, and exhaust, an enormous dilapidated billboard welcomes you to the "City of Kings." Its history as the center of the Incan Empire and the seat of the Spanish Viceroy after that, Lima derives much of its culture and extravagance from its unwillingness to let go of the grandeur of its former self.

Clumsy throw-back school buses from the 70's lumber along crowded streets, spewing thick clouds of smoke into the air, their paint jobs and emissions systems in equal need of an overhaul. The smaller, more nimble micros zip through traffic blissfully unaware of both the risk they pose to the automotive community and the color they provide to the litany of faded and rust-eaten white, grey, and brown cars that surround them.

A lycra-clad biker on a shiny yellow Lemond pedals by while on the other side of the street, a leather-skinned local walks barefoot down the road with a huge trash bag both to his fore and aft, his long-burdened shoulders providing the fulcrum the balance the load.

Shiny black Mercedes share the road with the distant predecessors to the smart car: the three wheeled deathtraps buzz along with little more horse power than a tricycle, completely indifferent to the line of traffic continually swerving around them.

The quiet forbearing streets converge onto a highway that runs along the pacific coast. At first, the route conjures intimations of other maritime freeways of note.
It is the drive along the French riviera, only without the reserved opulence and red-roofed vistas. It is Malibu's pacific coast highway but without the snobbish pretense or exclusivity. No. Lima's pacific freeway is rugged and naked. Dusty and underdeveloped. Its alternating brown and green hillsides are at once unassuming and ingratiating: the dusty patches along the road the result of constant construction and development - a promise of the Lima to come - while the lush green patches advertise the dignified communities of Latin America's humble wealth.

After about thirty minutes of driving, the cab finally drops me off at the Kaplans, where I spent the rest of the weekend eating, drinking, and being entertained like,you guessed it, a King.

Thank you, Jessica and Maria-Elena, for an amazing and relaxing weekend in your wonderful Peru.