September 10, 2017
Despite my solid attempts to sleep in, the party monster didn't want to comply. The music didn't die down until around 9am, at which point B slammed every door she had in retaliation. My guess is he passed out with little effort and never heard her frustrated slams.
Another lazy day, and unsuccessful nap (car alarm outside went off every 5 minutes), and then we ran to the grocery store. B opted to drive, but even with the lighter Sunday traffic, I could tell she didn't like it. And I don't blame her. I wouldn't want to drive there either.
The grocery store was much better stocked than the ones she went to in Sarajevo, so she was more successful in getting the food she was looking for. After dinner, I finished packing and waited for my driver.
He was early, but was also the the most normal driver we ever had. He drove a normal speed, wasn't psycho and got me there in one piece. The being said, I was super early for my flight, and checking my bag was quick and painless. I would have to recheck my bag in Dallas, and I was hoping it would be easy, given the really quick layover I was going to have.
I found my gate rather quickly and settled in to finish my water bottle (we weren't allowed to take it on the plane) and people watch. People watching in airports is always a great time, especially in foreign airports. And especially seeing the people going to the same place I am.
Luckily my seat was close to the front of the plane, but once I sat down, the woman and her son asked if I wouldn't mind switching seats with her son. I had the aisle and he had the window. He wasn't feeling in tip top shape and wanted an easy exit plan. I told them I had no problems with a window seat, but since I have a tiny bladder, they would likely need to get up at some point during the flight. I pounded a huge bottle of water before I got on the plane, so it's only a matter of time before I need to let it back out. Mama assured me she didn't mind and that I should wake them up if I ever needed to get out.
I settled in to read, not being tired yet, and they immediately brought a small ham & cheese sandwich around for a snack. That apparently made me sleepy, because I managed to doze on and off for about 3-4 hours, though it was impossible to get comfortable. I was freezing, even with my extra layers, but I refused to use the plane blanket that was covered in some super weird textures. I couldn't see them. But I felt them. Barf.
September 11, 2017
Around 5:30am, they fed us breakfast, which consisted of the worst eggs I've ever eaten in my life and a croissant with jelly. Not great, but tolerable. I had somehow managed to hold off a pee break until this moment, but apparently everyone else decided this was a great time for a potty break, too. The line was ridiculously long, but my urge to relieve myself was stronger than that line. So, I roused my aisle mates, and waited forever (was everyone taking a deuce?!), rationed what little TP was left, and managed to make it back to my seat shortly before they turned the seatbelt sign on.
We landed 30 minutes early, giving me a bit more breathing room for my connection. The customs check was quick and painless, with the recheck bag area right outside. I assumed I'd have to go through security again and recheck it that way, but this was super easy.
If you've never been to Dallas's airport, the terminals are arranged in a circular fashion, so I had to take a train around to find the one I needed. I made it with about 45 minutes to spare (thank goodness for our early arrival from Lima!) and had time to grab a real breakfast, with real eggs. Well, I'm sure they weren't real fresh-cracked eggs, but they were still better than that yellow mess on the plane.
My boarding assignment was pretty much at the end of the line (probably because of my flight change), so I watched nearly everyone board while I waited. A little less than halfway through, they told us that the overhead bins were completely full, and everyone would have to check their carry-ons. You guys. LESS THAN HALF THE PASSENGERS TOOK UP THE ENTIRE OVERHEAD SPACE. W. T. F. This is another reason I hate all those damn baggage fees. Not only does it make flying more expensive, but it causes more and more people to carry their crap on the plane and clog up the bins. Because you know these people weren't taking two small items on there. I was mainly worried because my backpack was crammed with breakable souvenirs, and I didn't want to check it, for fear of them breaking. Yes, I had them wrapped, but that means nothing in the cargo hold of a plane.
The flight attendant told me it would fit under my seat, so I would be fine. Well, in theory, yes, that would work. But, it baaaaarely fit under my seat, and a decent amount was left where my feet should go. So where did I put my feet, you ask? Good question. Let's just say it was a very uncomfortable 2 hour flight back to Chicago.
We arrived 25 minutes early (yay for early flights!), I somehow managed to snag my bag quickly, as it was once again one of the first ones off, and Uncle Robert was there shortly after to pick me up. It was an easy drive back to their house, where I ate a quick lunch and got back on the road. I had already missed work today, and I didn't want to miss another one tomorrow. (Though I did end up only doing a half day, which was dumb. I was so tired.) I hated to leave so soon, but it's another 4 hours of driving that I wasn't looking forward to. Luckily, my sister talked me through it, to keep me awake!
So, my 13th country is now in the books. I've added a third continent and another World Wonder. Despite the emotional way it started, I know that going was the right decision. Grandpa would have wanted me to experience that. And seeing Machu Picchu made it all worth it.
Some follow up observations.
1. Peruvian drivers are the worst. Well, I'm sure there are worse drivers in the world that I've yet to experience. But, for now, they're the worst. I would prefer crazy Italian drivers over what I experienced.
2. The toilet paper system definitely took some getting used to. Not a fan.
3. I'm not sure if it was the time of year we went, the massive quantities of bug spray stuff that I sprayed on my clothes, or perhaps the fact that my blood tastes different in South America, but somehow I managed to avoid the mosquitos. Ya'll, I read some HORROR STORIES on a few travel blogs about softball sized mosquito bites. I was freaking terrified. I'm so glad I dodged that bullet!
4. I'm also incredibly thankful for the minimal effects of altitude sickness. Other than being easily winded and getting a bit light headed occasionally, I was incredibly lucky. Again, those travel blogs will terrify you. The people who had serious intestinal issues or headaches made me so paranoid, I talked to my doctor about altitude sickness medication. (Basically, without testing it first, she couldn't tell me if it would really work for me or not, so we opted not to fill a prescription for it.) So, if you're reading this, wondering what your altitude sickness will be like, I'll tell you it's definitely not the same for everyone. Prepare yourself as much as you can, but there's no way of knowing how it will affect you.
5. I really need to brush up on my Spanish!
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