Taken in Less Than an Hour

In our defense, we were exhaused. Especially, I was.

If you read Friday's blog post, you know that DW, the kids, and I are currently in Peru. We were up at 2:30 Friday morning and arrived at the Ottawa airport for 4:30.

But before our flight, on Thursday, I drove to Toronto to pick up Kid 2, who had to work until 2:15. I literally pulled in front of her coffee shop, she threw her bags in the trunk, and I turned back toward home. We arrived around 8, cleaned the house, made sure everyone had what we needed, and were in bed by midnight.

We flew to Montreal at 6 and then to Miami, Florida, where we had a four-hour layover. I wasn't looking forward to this part of the trip because a) I didn't want to be in the U.S., b) I didn't want to be in Florida, of all places, c) I didn't want to be in a position where I'd have to spend any money in the U.S., and d) I really didn't want to break my promise to myself, when in Arizona, in 2016, I decided that I was done with the States and wouldn't return.

Our delayed flight.

Our flight to Lima was delayed by about five hours, so not only did we linger in a place I didn't want to be, we had to spend money because we were starving.

Our final destination wasn't Lima. We'll spend a couple of days there but at the end of our first week, when the kids return home, and DW and I head to the Amazon basin for our second week. Arriving in Lima at 1am, nearly 24 hours after we woke up at home, we needed to find our way to the hostel near the airport. The hostel closes at midnight but because we notified the owner that our flight was delayed, he said he'd wait up for us.

He told us to take an Uber the four kilometres to the hostel. We should have listened, but by the time we got through immigration at the airport and exited the terminal, we were trying to get our bearings. Several taxi drivers approached us but we said, "No, gracias."

One driver kept talking to us while we were searching Uber, saying that there was a special area for Uber drivers that would be a long walk, and it wasn't safe at this hour. We kept looking.

When we found a ride, it was about 21 Peruvian soles, about $8 Canadian. This persistent cabby said he'd take us "for 20."

"Twenty soles?" I asked.

"Twenty PEN," was his response. PEN is the abbreviation for Peruvian soles, much like CAD is the abbreviation for the Canadian dollar. We accepted.

Our hostel, Kurmi, is located less than 10 minutes from the airport but is apparently in a dodgy neighbourhood. The cabbie asked us several times if we were sure where we were going. "I wouldn't walk these streets at night," he said. And even when we pulled up in front of the hostel, he told us to remain in the car because he noticed some suspicious motorcycles riding around.

It was at this time that I pulled a 20-soles note from my pocket.

"No no," he said, "I can't do the ride for 20 soles, I need PEN."

"PEN is soles," I said.

"No, it's a different rate," he insisted, opening his phone and showing a spreadsheet that had a set of fractions and conversion rates. Kid 1, who was feeling anxious, pulled up the Uber quote, which also appeared as PEN.

We were tired. We weren't thinking. DW and the kids started getting out of the taxi and retrieving their bags as soon as the motorcycles moved on. The owner of the hostel threw open a steel door and told the ladies to get in and the kids didn't need to be told twice. They felt scared.

The cabby pointed at his chart and showed that 20 PEN was about $25 USD.

"You're ripping us off," I said, but for the sake of arguing on the street in a dangerous neighbourhood, I gave him two $10 US notes. "Take it or leave it."

The hostel owner beckoned for me to come inside. The cabbie took the proffered notes. "Asshole," I said as I turned my back and walked into the hostel. The owner closed the door and placed a bolt across it.

"Tell me," I said, after thanking him for staying up so late. It was now after 2 am. "PEN and soles are the same, yes?"

"Yes."

So, we ended up paying our driver more than 70 soles for a ride that Uber would have cost 20.

At least the rooms were clean and the beds were comfortable. Though, we had to be up in less than four hours to catch our next flight. As I said, Lima was just a stopover.

The neighbourhood was still dodgy in the morning but at least there were more people on the streets, and the hostel owner insisted it was safer in the day.

Our vacation continues in the Andes. Stay tuned.