The night is alwys so light in Lima, the cloud cover the color of black velvet on the wrong side. No stars, no moon, only reflections of city lights everywhere in the gray mist, a bit David Lynch-esque. The eucalyptus groove, so precious in Lima, is beautiful in a surreal way, a bit ominous in its stillness, even the birds have gone to sleep. In this mood I hear more about the darker sides of Peru, from the young, slightly spacy anthropologist who's anxiously awaiting a plane a leave. It's a good conversation by all accounts... rambling, but not without some depth, and moments when we were well in tune. My enthusiasm for being here initially wanted an echo in Pierre, but soon gave up and is fine with it. This may not be the best place in Latin America, but it's where I needed to be. In Peru, in Lima. The drone of machinery never stops, however, and the undying horns in the street bring anxiety. Yes, smaller towns and villages are in my near future and could not be soon enough. Cities are so often too much... love/hate relationships are tedious, and I don't have to have such with nature.