Given the distortion of reality that an 11 time zone shift brings, we didn’t venture out much into Lima. After a first night at a business hotel, we moved to Miraflores, an upscale (read: safe) and busy neighborhood for our second night. Lima and San Francisco are not sister cities, but they should be. Lima is of course warmer, but it’s not hot, at least this time of year. Like San Franciso, a breeze from the Pacific cools it. At certain times of year, impenetrable banks of fog move in unannounced and stay longer than welcome, enough so to earn mention in a discourse on the terrible sides of the color white in Moby Dick (which I happen to be reading). It feels good, like home, to have a cool, damp breeze, wide sidewalks, and the roar of the Pacific at the edge of town, with scores of surfers waiting for a good break.
The Private Eye is buzzing with excitement and can’t stop reading her Neotropical Companion. Since she saw that nature program as a teenager, it’s been a life dream to see the Amazon and the pink dolphins. We are almost there…
— The Professor
The Professor and the Private Eye: Adventures Abroad 