¡En la gloria!

August. Lima. Resfriada.

Lima in August is a relentless slew of mind-numbing, toe-numbing weatherlessness. Well wrapped-up Limeños scurry about under a sky that doesn’t even have the energy to be grey and cloudy, just a constant, sterile white. There’s a lot of snivelling. “¿Estas resfriada?” I have been asked by concerned colleagues on numerous occasions as I swab my face with another run of soggy bog roll. No, I haven’t got a cold, I’m just set to ‘constant drip’ until September.

However, today we are transported to some form of glorious alternate reality with all the benefits of the murky winter and none of the drawbacks. The streets were wet this morning. Not the usual slight damp of the sea mist, actually wet, with real water, as if it had [gasp] rained! And the sky – a clear, wonderful blue!

Arriving at school, the heavy, low-hanging fog of the last couple of weeks had lifted from the nearby mountains to reveal them in all their emerald glory. These hills – barren, brown dust from October to July – have sprung a lush carpet of greenery during the winter holiday. Lit by the sun and fog-free, I finally understand why Pachacámac is known as the last green valley in Lima.


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