In Honor of My Paps
In honor of my Paps’ birthday, I am sharing his favorite story of my travels so far. Paps insists that I share it all the time. Now he can read it whenever he wants. Love you, Pappy! Happy, happy birthday! Cheers to many more adventure-filled years!
---------------
I flew into Lima, Peru around 8 pm. After being on the road for four months, my parents and I were meeting in Lima for four days before each of our respective tours began. My parents’ flight from Sao Paulo, Brazil was not arriving until later so they would meet me at the hotel.
On my flight, I had run into a travel friend. Her hostel had sent a taxi to pick her up. I had heard that travelers should be cautious when getting a taxi from the airport because sometimes they are driven out of the city, robbed, and left on the side of the road by thieves posing as taxi drivers. She offered to share her taxi with me and I willingly obliged. The driver agreed to drop her at the hostel and then take me to my hotel.
One skill that I developed during my travels was chatting with taxi drivers. After learning Spanish in Guatemala, I found that I rarely used it within hostels as most travelers spoke English. Therefore, I was always eager to practice my Spanish – most of the time that ended up being with taxi drivers. My Lima driver was no exception and we quickly began a friendly conversation.
During the drive, the driver verified my destination and address twice. I thought he was not familiar with the hotel or I had the wrong address. He confirmed that my hotel was located at the listed address and drove me to the hotel. Once there, he helped me with my bag and again asked if I was sure this was the correct hotel. I paid my fare, assured him it was correct, and bade him farewell.
The doorman opened the door for me and I entered the air conditioned, gleaming lobby. With a sigh of pleasure, I walked up to the front desk and began checking in. While organizing our meetup, my father had had to change the hotel reservation to include me as well as add a note that I would be arriving before them. Unfortunately, the front desk did not have a copy of the updated reservation and rudely dismissed me. I had some of the emails between my father and the reservations department. Once I showed these emails (and used some of my politest Spanish), the front desk was attentive and extremely helpful. It took about ten minutes to straighten out the situation.
During this time, I noticed that the taxi driver was still there – he was chatting with the doorman instead of waiting outside. I could tell that he was paying attention to what was going on at the front desk. Once the check in process was complete, he then asked the front desk clerk in Spanish if I was actually staying there. The clerk replied that I was indeed staying there. I was thinking, “What the hell is going on!?”
I looked around at the other guests and then down at my dusty leggings and backpack with running shoes tied to the outside. With a laugh, I turned to my driver and said, “My parents are meeting me here.” His face instantly cleared of all confusion and he finally understood that I was indeed staying at this hotel…on my parents’ dime. With a huge smile, he wished me safe travels and left. I am pretty sure I was the first and will be the last backpacker he drops at this hotel.
I took the elevator to my floor and opened the door to the fanciest room that I had seen in four months. Upon seeing this suite, I too asked, “Am I at the right place?” Then proceeded to take the best shower of my entire trip and finished right as my parents walked in the door.