So Day 2 was again full of walking around Miraflores, recognizing all the places we went last time I was here, 5 years ago. Of course that's not true for Kyle, who knows the area like the back of his hand. We started the day with an americano at the cafe called La Favorita, which I recognized from the last time- we went there a lot. There was this table full of about half a dozen old fellers next to us, and we got the impression that they must come every morning, have coffee, and talk about the good ol' dias.
So funny thing about being a pedestrian in Lima: it's not that easy. All the little privately owned buses (combis), taxis, and cars scream through the streets, honking almost constantly, and braking only when the other possibility is slamming into the back of another vehicle. It's unbelievable. It's only slightly less frightening when you're in one. Pretty good for one sol, though. They'll get you around.
Well we pedestrianed to a different massage place and paid our soles, unsure of what to expect.
Kyle: First off, it was kind of bizarre that both people who gave us masajes were blind. Not a huge problem for the most part, but there was a certain point where the woman was pressing my foot into the metal table at an awkward angle and it didn't not cause the nerves involved to send messages to my brain telling me to do something to make it stop. Anyway, my masaje was just mostly not that good. Today, the day after, my shoulder feels weird and pinched and it felt fine when I walked in the place. We probably should have chosen the first handjob place. Morally hazardous, but probably less shoulder pain involved.
Yeah. But we did avoid the problem of what to do if we accidentally ordered a handjob. Anyway, my guy was also of limited skill. Worse, there was a point about halfway through where I was pretty sure he was pressing his boner intermittently against my arm. After a little consternation, though, I realized it was the bottle with the massage oil in it. I breathed a sigh of relief. Regardless, the consensus is that we're not going back.
Also, we went downtown again and saw some cool murals and graffiti, and the Plaza de Armas, but I can't write about those now because of the fumes that have invaded our apartment. Pictures and Day 3 later.
Oh, and How Peru is Like Kentucky: We didn't come up with much. Just chicken.
So funny thing about being a pedestrian in Lima: it's not that easy. All the little privately owned buses (combis), taxis, and cars scream through the streets, honking almost constantly, and braking only when the other possibility is slamming into the back of another vehicle. It's unbelievable. It's only slightly less frightening when you're in one. Pretty good for one sol, though. They'll get you around.
Well we pedestrianed to a different massage place and paid our soles, unsure of what to expect.
Kyle: First off, it was kind of bizarre that both people who gave us masajes were blind. Not a huge problem for the most part, but there was a certain point where the woman was pressing my foot into the metal table at an awkward angle and it didn't not cause the nerves involved to send messages to my brain telling me to do something to make it stop. Anyway, my masaje was just mostly not that good. Today, the day after, my shoulder feels weird and pinched and it felt fine when I walked in the place. We probably should have chosen the first handjob place. Morally hazardous, but probably less shoulder pain involved.
Yeah. But we did avoid the problem of what to do if we accidentally ordered a handjob. Anyway, my guy was also of limited skill. Worse, there was a point about halfway through where I was pretty sure he was pressing his boner intermittently against my arm. After a little consternation, though, I realized it was the bottle with the massage oil in it. I breathed a sigh of relief. Regardless, the consensus is that we're not going back.
Also, we went downtown again and saw some cool murals and graffiti, and the Plaza de Armas, but I can't write about those now because of the fumes that have invaded our apartment. Pictures and Day 3 later.
Oh, and How Peru is Like Kentucky: We didn't come up with much. Just chicken.
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