Figs and Wheat Thins


Last day in Arequipa before we overnight bus to Cusco! Gotta go out with a bang…right?

Today was an all-piled-into-one day. The quick version: Cafe con Leche from Cusco Coffee in the morning while listening to John Mayer’s version of the popular hit Free Fallin’; scoping out the local open mercado with Claire, Jonah, and Benji; mellow early afternoon in the room with Pizza, Blake, and Ingmar; blog sesh with the entire group at a stuffy internet cafe; getting PUMPED at El Mono Blanco (the local climbing gym) with Benji and Ingmar; Chinese fried rice dinner stuffed in face before boarding the overnight bus.

At the market, this huge huge HUGE open aired, but covered area within a city block, I smelled many smells that I did not necessarily want to smell, saw some things that I did not necessarily need to see, oogled over the immense varieties of potatoes, talked with local vendors, and chuckled at Ingmar’s bargaining skills.

After Claire indulged in her first fig and after I gulped down like five, we found out that apparently, there are hundreds, or simply, HELLA, varieties of potatoes grown and sold in Arequipa, Peru! Munch!

Ingmar bartered back and forth with one vendor for a super awesome, floppy, western, home-on-the-range style hat. He walked away a proud man after the lady sewed the last bit of it together.

During our midday meeting I snapped some more portrait photos of the group:




And then, Benji, Ingmar and I tore up our finger pads and pumped our forearms and climbed for a solid sesh in the afternoon…so as to be tired for the overnight bus ride of course.

The creepy dungeon-like entrance to the gym:

The innards:

When we boarded the bus, Ingmar took his hat off, placed it on his lap, and announced:

“This hat is like a Wheat Thin.”

Regardless of being floppy and bright, Ingmar and his plaid shirts match his new hat well.

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