Lima.

Arrival at 1am. Sleep at 3am.

Friday we woke up to a breakfast of fat and bread in a multi-storied, semi-cramped post colonial painted a relatively subdued pink. I spent the night on the roof in a small room with one window and a dentist chair. The bed had Dragon Ball Z sheets; I can still name all the characters.

After a slow process of acclimation and showering, the man we are staying with, Alberto, took us on a disorganized and at times confusing tour of the city center and the hill overlooking the city, Cerro San Cristobal. Lima is as I remembered it: beautiful, filthy and large. An uncoordinated beast crawling out of the ocean only to die on the desert. Think of it like this: You have to go there, but you don't want to stay.

Ice cream and ceviche followed our little excursion. Then I took a nap. Kat said she wasn't tired. Then she took a nap. For dinner, Alberto and his wife made us hot dogs fried in a pan with raw sausage ripped open and seared on two sides. They gave us milk as well.

Pray for my gastrointestinal system. Es probable que este´jodido.

Tonight we plan to go to a wine bar in Miraflores and then go to bed at some sort of decent hour.

We are here. It's a start.