Monkey See Monkey Do

Wednesday, February 7th

Off travelling again. Yesterday (Tuesday) it was a flight from Dulles to Lima, Peru via El Salvador. Most of the supposed one-hour layover in El Salvador was chewed up in DC while waiting for late connecting flights there. My wait in El Salvador turned into a walk out of one airplane onto my connecting flight that was already boarding.

Finally on to my ultimate destination, Lima. Lima is a city of false starts. Walking out of immigration, I spotted my driver holding a sign with my name, even spelled correctly. [Ed. Note: one of the perks offered by the hotel is airport pickup. Hotel was found on venere.com, a great resource for hotels around the world]. Start. The part of the city that first greets you on your ride into town is rundown. Stop. Then the road breaks open to run along the sea. Start. Then the road turns into a rough patch of whatever. Stop. Finally you get deposited at your hotel (nice enough) and you wash your face, go to the glass-enclosed restaurant with a warm breeze wafting in through the open front door and order paella. Start.

What does this have to do with monkey see, monkey do? That part came at dinner.

I was drinking my bottled water con gas. The three people seated at the next table ordered a pitcher of water. Aha, money conscious me [ed. note: cheap bastard]. A buck for a bottle of water, a pitcher free. Now, talk about a no-brainer.

This morning I was sitting at the same table eating breakfast. My “English” breakfast of eggs, ham, etc. etc. turned into toast, butter, and marmalade as the apologetic waitress reappeared and told me that the kitchen had run out of gas. Well, who needed the extra calories anyway?

So I sat munching my toast and reading my Frommer´s guide, well actually borrowed from a friend, and got to the part about drinking water in Peru as I was finishing my third glass of tap water.

“Drink only bottled water,” it proclaimed. Hope my next email isn’t a dissertation based on personal experience of waterborne evil thingies in Peruvian water.

Oops. Gotta run.

[Ed. Note: Not to worry. Not only did Russ survive, but in his next email he will be describing in exquisite detail the lunch he had shortly thereafter. My plan is once again to post all of Russ’ emails on a blog, but if you would prefer to keep receiving emails instead, just let me know.]