We had a few uneventful days in Lima before we flew back to Amsterdam on a "make your kids puke, hot flight" with KLM. I then got into a small disagreement with the KLM nerd at the connection desk when he said I would have to leave my Duty Free behind, despite the fact it was bought at another airport, sealed and security tagged and had not left a, my sight b, an airport compound.
Like hell that was going to happen so, for the millionth time this life, I ran through Schiphol airport in tears about to miss my flight for 2 bottles of Gin and a bottle of Tequila ( expensive Gin!) and got back to departures (duty frees checked in) with seconds to spare. I am getting too old for these Zola Budd sprints, but like the skid marks in the desert at Nazca my red headed, pig headed no surrender attitude took over.
We landed 3 days before the terrible earthquakes that shook Ica, Lima and the surrounding area, and this years adventure is over.
Like hell that was going to happen so, for the millionth time this life, I ran through Schiphol airport in tears about to miss my flight for 2 bottles of Gin and a bottle of Tequila ( expensive Gin!) and got back to departures (duty frees checked in) with seconds to spare. I am getting too old for these Zola Budd sprints, but like the skid marks in the desert at Nazca my red headed, pig headed no surrender attitude took over.
We landed 3 days before the terrible earthquakes that shook Ica, Lima and the surrounding area, and this years adventure is over.
Work Sucks.
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