(I just proofread this and realize that I am a little/a lot jaded. Lo siento. I hope that you, dear reader, know that Jean keeps me positive and that this trip is a sincere effort to turn that frown upside down. Also, heartwarming shit: I saw two canucks entertain two small Peruvian girls and color in their books for a solid hour or so… good people exist.)
I’m having trouble typing on the keyboard for the iPad that we bought at the bazaar in Lima (which is another story, entirely); the irony of this is really something special. So, for now, I shall type on an iPhone.
We are now in a town called “Paracas” and have made some friends. We are the oldest people around but feel like we fit in just fine… three dashes confidence, two experience, four alcohol. This appears to be a fisherman’s village/place to go and die. There’s literally nothing except hostels and the necessities to sustain those in the hostels.
I have a problem with liking dogs a little too much. I invited one street dog to our our table and then ended up looking like an absolute asshole trying to shoo him away when he got comfy. However, there was one dog that I wouldn’t even try to touch that looked like Satan incarnate who was the color of ash with no hair sans those coming out of his ass. Fuck that dog.
We’re going to a place that they call “little Galapagos” tomorrow but I think it is pretty much just an island that is somewhere near Galapagos (~500 miles) so they’re just all like, fuck it, let’s just call it “little Galapagos.” It is a 2-hour tour that cost $15, so I would be hard-pressed to believe that it is anything special. If there is a dragon, I will eat my woolen underwear.
P.s.- my sister just had her second baby and I think that babies are so special. Welcome to the world, Phil (Tandy), and I hope that you make it your own.