“Sorry, your apartment is rented to somebody else. They are actually in it at the moment”. Not ideal to hear this when you’re standing in the streets of Play del Carmen during the busy week of BPM festival with your bags. The Airbnb host is not answering us and finally we manage to get in touch with this other guy that notifies us that the host is in Mexico City with his family. This other guy indicates that his compañero has put him in a similar situation before. Although he has nothing to do with this FUBAR, he decides to put us in one of his listings that happens to be more luxurious and expensive. However, he determined to match the price and collect the difference from the other hombre when he’s back. Despite all this, we leave our bags and our distress behind us, and go for delicious pastor tacitos at ‘El Fogon’.
I can go on and on explaining how great the parties are down in Mexico. BPM was a bust, or maybe not, just attracts a crowd that i despise a little. But my experience in Tulum was out of this world. Flip flops off as you get in, barefoot dancing on the shore as the waves break by your feet.. What more can you ask for? The moon was full and together with some warm lighting on the stage made up the only illumination available. People displaying their arts, in costumes, while dangling on hammocks. Some venues had trampoline and other activities to engage in. Re-defines how an event can be produced.
Ali and I decide to sneak in a couple of small bottles in one of the parties. One tequila and one mezcal. A couple of hours after, we finish the bottles, and I bluntly tell Ali, “if you don’t feed me now, I’ll pass out”. Ali finds some Shawerma, that we end up halving, and from there on the party starts. We met a group of Italians that night that we ended up going to an after party with, and it kept going on and on..
And then ‘Day Zero’. It was the kind of event that resets you, living up to its name. Ali and I being at similar stages of our lives, a stage where we are adventurers that want to wander, explore, experience, and enjoy, yet also driven to find purpose and how our next life should be. That day, which started with a deep conversation alongside Sayed, and Mr. James Buchanan (that Scotch guy), was laying foundations for what’s coming up next.
We leave Tulum with big smiles and lots of party bracelets. Also, with unhidden excitement for our first South American country, Peru. Plan is to spend a few days in Lima before heading to the Andean mountains.
We are having ceviche, after ceviche, some Pisco sours, several Cusquena beers, especially after finding out that our hostel owner has a little rooftop bar, where he serves the best of the aforementioned. We’ve ended up having Pisco sours almost everywhere in Peru, but these were the best, hands down. They set the bar really high I believe.
Ali, being an outstanding cook, decides to cook the hostel tenants some ‘Koshari’. The result is magnificent. We have a ‘United Nations’ dining table, tasting and admiring our home country’s national dish; proud moment!
“Macchu Picchu will involve a shitload of hiking, you know? We need shoes?”, Ali, thinking out loud. “Probably a good idea”, I reply. Last day in Lima and the search for hiking shoes begins. We are down to the sixth or seventh store, and the issue is not that we’re not finding hiking shoes.. We just can’t find our size. Anywhere.
The last place we decide to check tells us that they don’t have these sizes, however, they have a brand that runs big. So, both of us were looking for size: 44-45 EU 10-11 US. We end up buying two pairs, and noticing the girls working in the store muttering to each other “Mmm, muy grande”! Ok, our Spanish was very weak at that point, however, we got that! They’re impressed and surprised with the size of our feet, that one of them (despite not knowing a word of English) decides to leave her Whatsapp contact on the shoe box. Big feet are big in Peru.
Now that we have the shoes, off we go to the Andes. Adiós delicious seafood and hello llama and alpaca steaks.