Being sensible (or not), we decided to pre-pay for a minibus to take us 3 hours down the coast to Piura airport. However, in true Peruvian style, it did not turn up. The lady behind the desk did an excellent impression of pretending we didn't exist, and after a 40 minute wait, kindly informed us that the bus was at the mechanics. So with time running out, we raced to catch a public bus, full of promise that it was headed direct to Piura. Of course, it wasn't.
However, being the sensible people we are, we had allowed ourselves some extra time for such a predicament. We managed to find ourselves an enthusiastic taxi driver (with a cracked windscreen as proof of his recklessness) and eventually made it to the airport with 3 minutes to spare!
After a short flight back to Lima, we went for out for dinner and seriously debated whether to go home or not. After long deliberation and assessment of our finances, we decided that we probably should. So, the next day, Sam had us up at crack of dawn to go back to Lima airport.
We finally touched down in London town (15 minutes early), whizzed through customs, grabbed our bags and were out - greeted by the Taylors, who'd made a banner just to embarrass us.
Saying goodbye to each other was weird, but the lure of our own beds and home cooked food made it easier. Sam had cottage pie awaiting, while Jo had bangers and mash, and a very excited Dylan!
already planning the next adventure.
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