Cracker Lives Matter In Lima Peru

Nirvana is to be experienced rather than defined, except to say that the airport in Lima is its exact opposite. Gray drizzly clouds block all window views of the natural world. Glaring florescent lights thrust a salty, greasy, sugary world of McDonald's, Papa John's, and Dunkin' Donuts into a traveler's throbbing brain. Peruvian women do little to restore my bliss. Many faces suggest human/llama crossbreeding, while many bodies offer a plus-size-version of Daddy Yankee's "Shaky Shaky" video. An overpriced taxi to the cheezy-sounding Nirvana Hotel seems like a ticket to paradise for me.

Destination Two: Friendly Skies Over Peru

Interjet flight 2890 to Lima isn't packed with bookish lesbian hikers like the plane from Missoula to Salt Lake was or prudish mormon elders like the plane from there to Mexico was. These faces are browner and happier - as I'll soon be. The girls in boots and guys in suits have been replaced by smooching couples, nursing moms, and doting dads. Latino love is in the air - and so am I.

Goodbye gringo misery and hello South American food and music, peoples and places, spirituality and sensuality. There may be a problem with sensuality though. Airport security seized my shampoo, mouthwash, and shaving cream, but overlooked my straight razor, so I'm armed to kill but not to love. Oh, the irony! Our world is getting tough on terrorists, but it has always been hard on romantics.