robadores, jungle hipsters and assorted confusions

First steps after stumbles; missed flights and London Pride nights. Lima looms but a bed beckons first, a few hours in and I have the traveller smell already. The feeling of a right choice makes twists around the edges of the mind as I try to think and not think together. 

I'm without a first photo but I've painted a couple already. Pretty shocked to discover I'm actually writing here, probably best to start while I'm tired and not thinking too much about it. A welcome change from the notebook, brings out different thoughts. So much traffic this morning and the -gloom- . I was warned of this. The grey, waiting to be born pains of Lima for half of the year, colourless skies sap what from the city? I will see. 

And jungle hipsters? Well that's a stretch... Odd hippie New Yorkers who dress like third world dandies and voyage into the Amazon to play guitar to the locals and sip their ancient histories that he seems so desperate for. With feathers in his hat and coral round his neck and a serious, very serious, love for living. My newspaper went unread. 

¡Venga, venga, vamos!