The Escape

Welcome to (and goodbye from) lovely Callao, Peru.

Finally, it happened, after what seemed like weeks and weeks, oh, it was weeks and weeks, I finally got my gear, except my fridge. I was totally pissed about the fridge, as I had been told, been promised, by more than one person, that I would be able to get "all" of my gear, and get the hell out of Lima, any day. Well, that did not happened, I was lied to yet again. Such is nature of doing business in Peru, and especially anything associated with the port of Callao, all a bunch of criminals. But it finally happened, I got an e-mail early in the afternoon on the 15th of November, two months after I arrived in Lima, from my customs broker instructing me to be at the Neptunia SP warehouse in 30 minutes, after waiting weeks for you to do your job, you suddenly tell me to be at the warehouse to pick up my gear in 30 minutes, really? And, they said, "bring cash", but not how much. So I hurried back to Villa La Punta, then hurried to an ATM to get more cash, had some, but figured I had better get more. I then scrambled to grab a cab and off to Callao and Neptunia I went. It took me almost an hour, cannot get anywhere in and around Callao in 30 minutes. Met someone from my customs broker's office, waited over three hours, and finally they appeared at the gate (I was not allowed in the facility), appeared with what I thought was all of my gear, and with a bill for over US$900, I about fainted. I did not have that much, and could only withdrawal US$200 at a time (and really, per day), but was so pissed, I had no intention of paying them that much anyway. We headed for La Punta to drop off my gear, and then when they opened the door of the truck, I asked about the fridge, and they said, no fridge, I thought my head was going to explode. They basically stole my fridge, even though I was promised I would be able to get all my gear. But at that point, I was too exhausted, and just ready to get the hell out of Lima, I quickly formulated my plan of escape in my head, unloaded my gear, and told them I would not pay them any more money until I got "all" of my gear as promised. I threw everything into my van, they took off, and I almost jumped in my van and left that moment, I was so pissed, so pissed. A calmer head prevaled, I needed some time to organize my gear a bit, and say goodbye to my new friends in La Punta, so instead of leaving, headed off to Elmer's bodega for a beer.

The next day, the 16th of November, I organized things in the van, did some shopping, began my stall tactics with my broker and the warehouse, and then went to Ricardo's house/appartment (3rd floor, beautiful place, great outdoor deck, high ceilings, wondeful) that evening for a little party, Ricardo, Charlie, and Vaughn. Before that, Ricardo and his wife took me to a wonderful restaurant right down the street from where I had been for the last month, place I thought was reserved for naval personel, where we had a pisco sour, or two, and some fantastic hor dourves. Had a great time, my last evening in La Punta, lots of fun. Then slept in my van for the first time in Peru, in South America, and at 6:00 am on the 17th of November, I was finally on my way, I drove out of La Punta, through part of Callao, San Miguel, San Isidro and Miraflores, and eventually, I was on the PanAmerican Sur, the PanAmerican Highway heading south, finally. I had escaped!

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