First Encounter With the White City

There was no separation of classes on the flight from Lima to Arequipa. When we got to our seats, Joffre said, "Mom! These seats too small!" I told him there was no business class on the flight, and he said, "Well, that okay." How, um, gracious of him . . .

Arequipa is called The White City because most of the colonial era buildings are made of white sillar, a local volcanic rock. In fact, both the city and the surrounding hills and mountains looked pretty beige flying in - and this is the rainy season.

We were met at the airport by more security people, who drove us to our new (temporary) home in Arequipa. Down a cobbled country road, through a security gate, down another long road with high stone walls on either side, through another security gate (both manned with guards), and we were in Las Sauces, a strange little T of two cobbled streets with about 10 enormous houses lining them. There were gentlemen from the company there to meet us, and tour us around the vast domicile. The house has an enormous dining area, several sitting areas, five bedrooms, four bathrooms, and generally more space than three families our size need:








We don't currently have a photo of the master apartment, er, bedroom, but I'll take 3 or 4 (the minimum required to show the whole thing).

Oh, and three fireplaces. The place has three fireplaces.