We arrived in Lima in the early evening, and the entire city was blanketed by a heavy gray fog. As soon as the taxi reached the coastal road leading down to Miraflores I felt a strange pang of feeling in my gut. My eyes rested on the barely discernible horizon line of the Pacific, and I suddenly felt I was home. I didn’t understand at first, because I had spent so much time on the beach and in the water while in Brazil, but this was different. I hadn’t seen the Pacific Ocean for over 4 months, the most time I have ever spent away from the California coast. Apparently I am more tied to my geographic origin then I realized was even possible. I hadn’t noticed I was missing it, and even though this coastline is a lot farther South, it still felt familiar. I was rejuvenated just being on that side of America.
Lima reminds me of San Francisco in more ways than one. The fog, the cliffs that border the Pacific, the art, the amount of greenery, the urban gardens, and the city’s focus on food all felt familiar. We roamed around the city, exploring its different neighborhoods, visited the Plaza de Armas, the Malécon, the Circuita Magica de Aguas, but mostly ate, and danced. A friend put us in contact with some very talented and gracious Timba dancers in Lima, so we were in good hands. It was nice to have some local contacts and instant friends to enjoy the city with. Dancing aside, the food was my favorite part of Lima. I couldn’t get enough of the refreshing, exotic juices, fresh ceviches, and delicious empanadas.