Driving to Heaven by Derek Stansfield

Author:Derek Stansfield
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: For the Benefit of Mr. Kite
Published: 1986-12-31T16:00:00+00:00

Fourteen

Fame at last. Accused of spying in Northern Peru

At length, the road was transformed into a dual-carriageway – a sure sign that the capital was close. It was Thursday, February 5th when we pulled into our sixth South American capital. It was the end of our eighteenth week – eighteen weeks since our plane to Montevideo had paused here. From Montevideo we had driven 7,983 miles, 1,245 of those from our last capital, La Paz, which we had reached exactly a fortnight before.

Several of the travellers we had met who had come through Lima, advised camping behind the ‘yellow aeroplane’ at Lima’s nearby Pacific coast resort of Miraflores. What was this ‘yellow aeroplane’ -was it the name of a campsite or was there really a yellow plane? Soon, all would be revealed, but first we had to fight our way through the capital. Here we had a stroke of luck, when a Peruvian offered to show us the way, if we would drop him off at a garage en route, where his car was being repaired. Eventually, we reached the sea-front at Miraflores, but could see no sign of a ‘yellow aeroplane’. Then another good Samaritan came to the rescue, and directed us to the cliff top, where a lighthouse beamed its warnings over the ocean. And there it was, a genuine yellow aeroplane, a DC6 which had apparently crashed some years before. But it was not to be allowed to rot away: the inside had been converted into a coffee-bar! In a hut alongside were wash-room facilities for the clientele, both hut and plane sitting in a car park on top of the cliffs. In one corner of the car park was the lighthouse, while below lay the Pacific, anchored in a vast bay overlooked by the glittering lights of Miraflores.

Soon, the night-watchman arrived – a jovial character who had sired ten children, and whose immensely portly frame would have fitted comfortably into a Father Christmas outfit. He came into the van for coffee, and cheered us up no end by saying the war with Ecuador was nearly over. The border situation was something we could never quite get out of our minds. If it should turn out that it was closed, it would be from Lima that we would have to ship our van to Ecuador, or further.

Our stay in Lima was a great success. It is a most important city -once capital of all Spain’s considerable possessions in South America, after its founding by Pizarro in 1535. As usual, the heart of the city was the Plaza de Armas, the main square, dominated by the cathedral, where lie the remains of Pizarro. On another side was the Government Palace, fronted by massive wrought iron railings and guarded by soldiers.

The churches which we would have liked to enter were all locked. In this, Lima was no different to the rest of South America. So, we wandered around idly, getting the feel of the place. Suddenly Marilyn spotted a

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