Google map: http://maps.google.co.uk/maps?f=q&source=s_q&hl=pt-PT&geocode=&q=lima,+peru&sll=53.800651,-4.064941&sspn=12.791842,28.168945&ie=UTF8&ll=-12.023203,-77.56897&spn=5.284805,11.206055&z=7
One month later, the same city (actually, the very same area of the city, the very same streets, the very same laundry where I had dumped my dirty socks of two weeks of travel), even the same clothing. Yep, by coincidence, I’m wearing the same jeans, the same t-shirt, the same jacket. Perhaps even the same underwear – not too sure about that one, but could be…
I’m having a coffee, killing time for another night bus. From Lima to somewhere. As before. But now alone. Again.
Doing the exact same turns at the exact same corners, to get to the exact same bus terminal where once a cab driver made you think he’d smash the car against the elevated sidewalk so harshly he stepped on the accelerator, just before a 90ยบ turn. Catching again a bus for €0.25, which drives you for almost an hour through 8km or so of chaotic traffic, covering just a tiny bit of huge Lima, from the centre to the seaside of town.
As it was with suddenly sharing my life with someone after having been 6 months apart, it seems like no time at all has passed since I was travelling alone. The same need to write in order to share, with whoever it may be. The same feeling, the same expansion of time in your mind as you pass by random places and are left alone with your thoughts, which carry you far away. Now a mix of solo and shared experiences, memories. “Saudade”.
Thinking of what’s next. What’s there to come. But now, more than in Peru or elsewhere in Latin America like before, in Lisbon, back home.
What’s next? What’s there to come?
Stupid smile: it's from the coffee
Miraflores' seaside by night, in Lima. Covering the footsteps of one month ago, to kill time...
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