Yesterday I found myself being shaken down by security in the Quito airport. After some debate in the hostel the day earlier, I had decided to try bring my coca leaves with me to Peru. After I was ushered into a windowless room by two security agents, I decided that perhaps I had made a mistake.

I decided to “act natural.” They were asking lots of questions and I endeavored to seem as harmless as possible while attempting to make jokes with them (all in Spanish of course). Eventually they reached the bottom of my bag where the potential contraband was stowed. They pulled them out, gave me a look, and asked why I had “these”. I explained that I brought them because I’m planning on hiking through the Andes and was told they prevent altitude sickness. It appears my attempt at camaraderie with the agents was successful, as after looking at each other for a second they let me go (coca leaves in-tact). And with that, I said goodbye to Ecuador.

After a quite reasonable two-hour flight, I landed in Lima. After taking an Uber to the hostel, I decided to go for a stroll. I had heard from many that Lima was a quite aesthetically displeasing city, so I had low expectations but harbored a secret optimism. The sun was beginning its descent so I decided to meander my way to the coastline.

When I made it to the ocean a wonderful feeling swept over me, similar to the first time I went to Los Angeles (another city many people delight in belittling).

True, after looking at climate statistics Lima does have a rather excessive amount of overcast days in its winter, but it decided on displaying shades of blue, orange, and red for my arrival.

I ended up taking a seat on a wall in the park for the end of the sunset, staying put until the last of the glowing orange orb receded into the horizon.

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Pleased with the experience, I set off to get some dinner. On my way back to the hostel, I bought some water at a convenience store. I generally keep my wallet in my front pocket while traveling so as to deter pickpocketing, so when I bought the water I unloaded everything onto the counter to fish out the foreign coins required for the transaction. Everything went fine until the moment I arrived back at my hostel to find that neither my wallet nor my prescription sunglasses were on my person. Did I get pickpocketed despite my precautions? On the contrary, it seems I was my own worst enemy. Realizing my blunder, I executed an abrupt about-face and high-tailed my way back to the convenience store.

Heart racing and praying to any deity that made its way into my consciousness, I finally arrived at the drug store. Except…it didn’t look the same as before. That’s because I had returned to the wrong store. Classic Michael Huseby sense of direction at work. Luckily, it turns out the store’s identical twin was across the street (not sure how that doesn’t cannibalize sales, but who knows), so I “patiently” waited for the light to change and scurried across the noisy street.

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I arrived at the correct store and scanned the room for the object of my attention. No wallet. I waited in line but the woman at the counter didn’t seem to recognize me. Bad sign. Finally, I got to the front and explained: “Acabo de dejar mi billetera aquí hace veinte minutos.” She gave me a big smile and handed me a plastic bag which contained my prized possessions. I walked back to the hostel in a aura of gratitude. What a day.