24/02/2010 by atti.

I looked in my bag for my camera, It wasn’t there. I checked my suitcase, on my bed, around the room, nothing.

It had gone.

I immediately asked the people in my room if they had seen it, but nothing, after searching through everything I discovered my Ipod was also missing…

I asked for directions to the Police station, but I recieved a vague, i’ll come with you later response and I needed to get a police report sharpish for the insurance claim. I walked into the centre of Huaraz, Huaraz is a small town in the Andes mountains roughly 300 miles north of Lima, Peru. The town was beautiful and traditional, with the usual collection of randomers napping, talking or watching people sat around the square. 

 I was in mission mode, lolling through the square not making eye-contact nor speaking to anyone unless it was asking for directions. I found the police station, or I thought I had, it was actually a shed in the central town building, nice. 

I went in and explained the situation, they said to me, “What would you like us to write?” They were in a position to write anything I wanted and I knew they wouldn’t do anything to follow it up, they’d just file it. So I explained what happened and they wrote it all down, stamped it, signed it about 6 times and I had to go to the bank in the process for some reason. 

 I was quite annoyed but I got over it, I didn’t buy a new camera as they were about 3x more expensive in Peru than England, and I lived with not using my Ipod. I did, however, leave Huaraz a few days later to head north to Trujillo.

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23/02/2010 by atti.

After a long flight and a change in Sao Paulo, I finally arrived in Lima, the capital of Peru. I had done this many times before, so collecting my bags and airport checks weren’t really on my mind. Instead I was thinking about what it would be like, will I find a job, will I be shot etc.

I glanced at the tv monitor, read quickly as I walked by, “flight from Sao Paulo, Baggage collection B”.

After locating the correct section there were a few people just leaving and no more than half a dozen bags going around the conveyorbelt, none of which were mine. I waited there for 10 minutes or so and my bag didn’t turn up. I asked the security guard in my basic spanish, “where’s my bag?” he pointed to a desk. Before arriving at the desk I had a good look at the monitor and saw another entry for “Sao Paulo, Baggage collection H”, I’d been waiting on the wrong flight! I found my bag and walked out of the airport to find a guy standing there, a little worried, looking at the monitors with my name hand written (correctly spelt too) on a white-board clenched in his hands . I’d pre-ordered a taxi to the hostel, one that I knew would get me there without stealing everything I owned and said Hi to the guy. He spoke good English and took me to his car, we spoke for the duration of the journe, the usual questions, where I was from, what I was doing etc

The roads were roads which was a good sign, it was warm, but cloudy and the streets were casino lined. It was a cross between the streets of China and Casinos with American style buses and lorries everywhere. The simpsons school bus was elongated a lot and wasn’t yellow, but I wasn’t disappointed, I loved the change of scenery and couldn’t wait to find out what opportunities lay ahead.

The hostel was on the beach, nice. The guy who owned it was very welcoming and showed me around the spanish style villa. A few people travelling from all over the world were around, but not many, so I took the time to explore my new surroundings. I quickly found many American styled Burger restaurants and a healthy mix of mexican restaurants too.

There were also police on every corner I turned.

I took a mental note that this wasn’t England and figured it was best to leave the exploration to the next day as it was already getting dark

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23/02/2010 by atti.

“Peru.”

I said to my mother, “I’m off to Peru, and i’m going to work there for 6 months”

I gave her my flight details from lastminute.com and let her know my plans. Her first concern, as always, was my safety. Peru was definately not as safe as China and the threat of large drug trafficking and crime was, of course a major concern. As always however, my mother was happy for me, that I was taking my life into my own hands, getting stuck in and enjoying every moment. She knew I would stay away from trouble and could enjoy myself at the same time.

“You’ll get yourself killed” My father completely disagreed with my choice, “I’ll buy you a brand new BMW if you stay” He knew, whatever he said, I would go anyway. And also knew I would decline the offer of a BMW for my freedom. I explained what I was going to do but he remained adamant that I wouldn’t find work that paid enough and would be home in 1 month.

Before I left I had been in contact with a School in Ecuador. They said there would be positions at the beginning of June for me, roughly 2 weeks ahead. I decided to plan to head north from Lima, travelling toward Ecuador, but actively looking for work the whole time.

I set off to London from Poole on the National express bus at about 10:30am. Waved goodbye to my mother who was shedding a couple of tears. As Poole went by I was thinking how it would all change the next time I see it and what adventures I was going to have in a part of the world I had never thought I would ever go to.

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