Miraflores Park

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I walk the Miraflores neighborhood park one more time, its real name escaping me, and I take the time to really observe the toro and vase and tire planters, all of these details so unique to this place, yet the park experience so similar the world over with its crowds of picnickers, people reclining and relaxing, youths playing.

What a quintessential experience, a little globality with a dash of locality, the perfect segue into my last evening as a voyager, where, back in Hostel Kusilli, I meet my two new dorm mates, a couple of petite darlings from Tokyo, broken English and signing our lingua franca.

How appropriate that the circle come fully around, me bedding down with girls from my first stop in this round-the-world journey, Japan back in my presence, as if to close the geographical loop and mind the metaphorical gap.

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This entry was published on April 3, 2013 at 15:40. It’s filed under Peru and tagged , , . Bookmark the permalink. Follow any comments here with the RSS feed for this post.

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