Trujillo for Lunch

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Bearing in mind I’m still writing this journal from memory, I really didn’t think I’d be able to remember where we finally stopped for lunch. I have one solitary photo of it and it didn’t even feature on our itinerary. However it did prove somewhat eventful.

We arrived in a very normal, slightly run down town. It was mid day and exceptionally hot. There was also a lot of building work going on – so on the whole first impressions were not good. However Luis assured us it was well worth the visit and that the old heart of the town was only a short walk away.

One couple are clearly not talking to each other now and the wife explains she’d know the right route but “he knew best”

I would say that this was one occasion that frankly he got it wrong. We walked a fair way, up hill, turned this way, turned that way, passed this shop, passed that one, until we finally made it to the Plaza Mayor. Well so far so good, but no one had really been paying attention to the route – except me. Perhaps I was on my toes after the little mishap in Cuenca. But I’d spent most of my time nodding and generally agreeing with whatever anyone was saying, whilst trying to remember that we turned left at the road works, passed that little cake shop, etc.

In the Plaza Luis pointed out some pleasant cafes, the town hall, church (Inglesia de Santa Maria la Mayor) and a statue of Francisco Pizarro (the town’s famous son who conquered Peru). He also showed anyone who was feeling adventurous, the direction to a ruined Moorish fortress. Then he told us when to meet up – back at the coach!

Off we all went in various directions to explore the town. I met up with Susan and Yee and we decided to take it easy and enjoy a long, lingering lunch whilst watching the world pass by. Just as we were finishing our meal and ordering another round of drinks, a lady who was on our coach came over clearly a bit distressed. She’d had a row with her husband who had gone off in a huff. She was now stuck here with absolutely no idea where he was or how to get back to the coach. Well of course we promised to look after her and spend the rest of our time commiserating and agreeing that all men are pigs!

Eventually the time came to leave and we headed off, with a small group in tow all of whom say “you seem to know where you’re going”. Thank heavens I’d paid attention! I was able to lead everyone back safe and sound to the coach with plenty of time to spare. We settle down on some benches under some nearby trees and wait. Not everyone is quite so lucky and the strange thing is that it’s generally the men who seem to have got lost. One couple are clearly not talking to each other now and the wife explains she’d know the right route but “he knew best”. We also derive a certain amount of sisterly pleasure in our new friend’s husband getting lost and being last to get back. We tell her not to let on and just act cool – it’ll really annoy him!