Lima

LIMA YAAAAAY now what the christ do I do. It's such an monstrously sprawling city and wank dull which is why I got out swiftly in the first place upon realising that tinder was even more toady than in England. There are many things to hate but as the sojourn draws to a close I discovered in the last week there are also pleasant surprises.

Hateful things include the urban acne that is casinos whose pu$tules can be found at every turn. If you've got the money go ahead, but sadly most people here don't or if they do it's imaginary, and these smeggy tycoons convince them they can win a washing machine or a jesus-approved spaceship. Which ties in sweetly with the liars. Limans (?) are largely compulsive bearers of untruths, often for no discernable reason. They'll give you the wrong directions to somewhere because they'd rather you end up naked and lost in the wilderness subsisting on algae than admit they don't know.

Floral advertising. Billboards ok but is it really necessary to have pharmaceutical logos flower-arranged into every other patch of grass? And what is it supposed to mean? Is it flammable? Have you got some matches? Lima isn't very good at flora and fauna on the whole. I always think it's a fun idea to go to the zoo and end up leaving them regretful and depressed, and this time was no exception. The wild cats were skeletal or insane or both, and the magnificent black bear (of the Paddington variety) was clearly zonked into another dimension. Bear witness below.

Less sentient than a root vegetable

So I learnt my lesson about funding third world zoos, for which I tried to compensate by taking myself on a date to see the dead and stuffed (and visibly much happier) wildlife at the Natural History Museum, your reliable go-to in any city.

Another 5starsontripadvisor experience was the "magic water park" (sounded excitingly imbecilic) whose vibrant light show with racy folkloric dancing I watched on san pedro cactus bought off witchy ladies in La Paz. Ideal context. It was something like being in a colourful RPG, or completing rainbow road in Jeff Koons' brain. (Edit: And the rest made it back across the Atlantic untouched! Where I can now add some sugar and lemon because the concoction itself tastes like redigested bile.)

Despite being archaically degrading and nauseatingly sleazy it is also quite nice to have suedra (mother-in-law) yelled at my mum by passing opportunists who indiscriminately overlook my boy hair. I've found that Lima can grow to be loved once you get past the incoherent transport "system", permanent risk of mugging, pollution and canny extortion, especially when it unexpectedly throws things at you like a peruvian The Doors tribute band, which is possibly the best thing that has ever happened in eternity and that is an objective fact. This is not the end, you beaut country.