Lima – the polarizing capital

Perú – February 2019

Lima is a city about which travelers have very different opinions. It has a very bad reputation and is often visited only for short stops during a South America trip. However, it is also the starting point for trips to Huacachina, Paracas, Machu Picchu and the Peruvian Amazon. So there’s almost no getting around it if you want to travel to the homeland of the Incas. Long before I left for Latin America, I decided to spend my language study trip in Mexico and Peru. Contrary to the most common destination – Cusco – my choice for the 5-week language course fell on the capital by the sea.

And so it happens that on a Sunday at the beginning of February I arrive in Lima by night bus from Trujillo. I take a cab to Miraflores, where my host family lives. The streets are in remarkably good condition and quite empty. Most of the houses we pass are surrounded by high fences with massive gates. So is the yellow house where I will be staying. Immediately, the recommendation of my travel agent in Switzerland comes to mind: “The host families don’t have much, if you want you can bring them a chicken for dinner.” I don’t think that will be necessary here.

But already the next day, one of the other sides of the city shows itself to me. After Spanish class, I decide to join Melanie and Ursina on the guided tour of the old town. It is located far inside the sprawling city and Estefany explains to us that we first have to take the Collectivo to the next station of the Metropolitanos. So we board one of the collectivo cabs on the main street, which drive up and down Avenida Benavides with the door open. The advantage is that the wind makes the summer heat bearable. In addition, the shouts of the conductors make the ride entertaining. In contrast, the Metropolitano is much more “civilized,” but the express bus network is limited to a single line.

Because the buses do not run soo frequently, they are also accordingly full. When we finally arrive at the Plaza de Armas, I am positively surprised by the well-preserved old town. However, the streets are significantly dirtier than in the noble Miraflores. The fact that Estefany often reminds us to take care of our bags reinforces the feeling that Lima is not as safe as I had assumed until now. After visiting a convent and drinking a Pisco Sour in an old hotel, it is time to go home. Estfany has to continue in another direction, so the other two girls and I decide to share an Uber. We cover the distance, which was supposed to take 20 minutes, in a beaten hour. In Lima it is ALWAYS rush hour.

Uber plays a central role in the few bad experiences I have in Lima. Everywhere in Latin America it is instilled in you as a tourist that you should only use Uber and not normal cabs, because you can hope for a little more safety. However, this only refers to a smaller risk of kidnapping and the like. So 2 fellow students are held up at gunpoint by a motorcyclist at a red light. He sticks his gun through the open window and demands their wallets and cell phones. A few days later, Melanie and I are on our way home from a club in the Barranco nightlife district by Uber.

Suddenly, the Uber driver stops on the empty street to let a bicycle cross the empty intersection. A moment later, a two-wheeled vehicle roars up to our left, the driver grabs the Uber driver’s cell phone from its cradle through the open window, and speeds away. Melanie and I had closed the windows and are now clutching our cell phones. The driver gestures for us to give him our phone so he can find his way. We sense a complicity between thief and driver (not unusual) and explain that we will guide him. It is not far and we pay the agreed amount in cash upon arrival.

One of the most notorious places we are warned about is Callao. The district (actually more of a city in its own right) in the westernmost corner of Lima is home to the international airport and the Fortaleza del Real Felipe by the sea. The latter is the destination of a Sunday excursion I take with Melanie and her AirBnb roommate. Ricardo grew up in Callao and knows his way around. He too says we should head back to Miraflores before sunset. One reason Callao is so unsafe is the seaport, which attracts a large number of smugglers, especially at night. And where there is drug trafficking, gangs are not far away.

On another weekend Ursina, Melanie and I go to the beach. Our first destination is Playa Barranquito, but after strolling too long through Barranco, the beach is already packed with umbrellas. So we walk a bit further south and try to find out at the next beach how a beach visit in Lima works. We realize directly that we are far and wide the only white tourists. Around us there are only Lima families. Finally, one of the umbrella renters takes care of us and explains that we can rent an umbrella and 3 chairs for 8 Euros. For us a bargain, we probably pay a multiple of the family next to us. The people around us seem nice, eat and dance the whole afternoon, nevertheless we make sure that always one of us stays with the bags at the place.

Just like on the beach, in the water practically every meter near the coast is full of people. Everyone lets themselves be lifted up by the waves and drift towards the beach. Some people walk up and down the promenade for hours with their cumbia-playing speakers. Others are enjoying one beer after another from the large coolers that each family has brought with them. We, of course, are not so well equipped. So we listen to the music of our neighbors and buy drinks and snacks from the Venezuelan beach vendors. When we tell the teachers about our experience on Monday, they just laugh and think that we have found the “ghetto beach”. Thus, despite the proximity to Miraflores, it is mainly the residents of the center and Callao who are drawn to the beaches in the city.

The upper middle class leaves Lima on weekends and spends the summer in the coastal towns just outside. And so the director of the language school accompanies us to Punta Hermosa the next weekend. The traffic to the south is surprisingly smooth and we reach the beach within an hour. The atmosphere is definitely calmer than in Barranquito. We find an umbrella vendor and throw ourselves into the cool water. The waves are higher and stronger than in the protected bay of last week and so we are soon exhausted. Fortunately, there are various upscale restaurants and we sit down in one of the air-conditioned lounges.

Just as we finished eating ceviche and pizza, one of our classmates receives a surprising phone call. His boss is also in Punta Hermosa and invites us all to the beach club where she is a member. And so, a few minutes later, we find ourselves sitting on rattan furniture and sipping Pisco Sour. The number of empty bottles on the table suggests that Igor’s boss and her friends have been here for quite a while. The mood is boisterous and there is wild dancing. It is not until shortly before sunset that we make our way home. Uber doesn’t really work out here, so we stand on the Panamericana and stop some vehicles with outstretched arms.

After a while we find a woman who takes 5 of us to Lima. The other 4 soon find a cab as well. We play music loudly and couldn’t be happier about this day at the sea. Back in Miraflores, the son of Melanie’s AirBnb host tells us that his cousins and he (all Peruvian) were robbed the night before in the park in front of the house by a man with a gun. This is Lima. An international city, with a big gap between rich and poor. A lot of corruption, traffic and crime. But also warm people, insanely good food and lots of joie de vivre. Besides Buenos Aires (a city with a similar reputation), Lima is the city in South America where I would want to live.