The Catacombs and Miraflores

After our harrowing run, we came back to find that we had missed the warm water by about fifteen minutes. Once again, it would be ice water for each of us.
Feeling extremely refreshed, we decided to set out for some of the local tourist attractions--you know, the kind that you pay for.
There was a 16th century monastery situated a few blocks away from Rico's place that had been inhabited by Spanish Monks. The guided tour took us past faded frescoes and elaborately carved wooden busts of saints. As we ascended a set of marble stairs we could look up and see an imposing dome constructed out of ebony that had been specially shipped from Nicaragua. Amazingly, the dome was held together not by nails or glue but by its own wait. I believe this fact had led to its collapse some years ago due to an earthquake.
Another impressive feature was the monastery library, a room that was about twenty feet wide and at least a hundred feet long. The library also had a second floor which was accessible by two spiral staircases. The walls were lined with historic manuscripts, which the guide told us were written in Latin, Spanish and Quechua. These ancient tomes filled the space with a rich and musty smell. Massive skylights flooded the room with light and made the otherwise ominous woodwork seem strangely inviting.
The best part of the monastery tour however was the catacombs. Our guide took us down the stairs to a passage with a ceiling low enough so that I had to keep my head ducked under. As we walked through the damp, we passed crates on either side of us that were filled to the top with ancient bones. The bones, mostly femurs, had been neatly stacked. Rich and poor, Spanish and native alike; they had all been mixed together. I suppose I could say something about equality in death if I wanted to make a heavy-handed point here.
More creepy, the catacombs had a series of wells, massive cylindrical chasms a la The Pit and the Pendulum that contained bones, all neatly arranged in circular pattern. The walls had special nooks where attendants had mounted the skulls of antiquarian Lima dwellers.

Later that day, we hit Miraflores, the most popular tourist district in the city. To get there we took a bus down Avenue Arequipa for the price of two soles for a ticket. The district itself didn't contain much that was impressive; mainly it was expensive shops, cafes and classy restaurants.
We got lunch at a place and walked down to the cliffs overlooking the Pacific. Because of the usual fog, the water and the skies were gray. A cold wind stirred up the ocean into massive breakers. Despite the unfriendly conditions, there were plenty of people out to enjoy them. There were people surfing in the waves as well as a guy in a para-glider who had paid fifty bucks to jump over the edge. We followed a walkway down to the beach and clambered out onto a slippery jetty where we could got face-fulls of spray.
After our excursion to the shore, we walked back up to the neighborhoods and wandered in it all for a while. We stopped for dinner at a Jordanian place that served an okay plate of falafel and played Reggaetone* After a day that had been filled with danger and overpriced coffee, we were ready to take the bus back to Central Lima.

*Actually every place in Peru plays Reggaetone. You can't walk anywhere for an hour without hearing the computer Boom-Cha-Boom-Cha beat coming out of a taxi's radio or from storefront loudspeakers. Chicha, the more traditional Peruvian sound, based on guitars and charangoes, is also popular, and is far more enjoyable to listen to.