Lima

Lima’s monument to memory

In the pantheon of South America’s great hotels, the Gran Hotel Bolivar’s place is assured. Stand anywhere in the Plaza San Martin, one of Lima’s historic central squares, and the proud art deco 1924 building – all 300 rooms and five storeys of it – glistens dazzling white over the promenaders, tourists and hawkers below. These days it feels almost marooned, an island of elegant, old-fashioned opulence set in a sea of fuming traffic. The rich and sophisticated have deserted the old part of town for the cool condominiums and plate glass of modern Miraflores, but Miraflores has no memory. The Bolivar – every stone, every pane of stained glass, every monogrammed brass doorknob, even the black Model T Ford standing beside the reception desks – remembers its glory days.

You know when you’ve been ‘Peru’d’

From our US edition

"Did you get Peru'd?" That's the question my boss, who once lived there, always asks people when they return. The idiom implies that something has gone terribly wrong, because, so my boss argues, that's inevitable during a visit to the land of the Inca. Lost luggage, food poisoning, petty theft: all of them, or worse, constitute being "Peru'd." During a recent happy hour, a colleague was describing how much she enjoyed her recent vacation to Lima and Cuzco. “Did you get Peru’d?” my boss queried. No, the woman asserted, she did not; it was a lovely trip. Another colleague piped in: “But didn’t you get Covid?” Well, yes, that’s true, she did get Covid. “You got Peru’d,” my boss decreed.

Peru