IT'S a bit of a milk run to get to Peru. I've gone from Bundaberg to Brisbane, Brisbane to Melbourne, Melbourne to Chile, Chile to Peru… on different planes, of course.
Air travel is something to embrace.
I consider it a privilege. The waiting, the nervousness, the "gee these seats are comfortable" turning into "gee I wish these seats were more comfortable" after the eight hour mark.
It's the window seat all the way for this traveller, where possible.
Somewhere to rest the head, a view outside of lands unseen, and the necessity to communicate (if only briefly) with those in the middle and aisle seat beside you as you are handed things across from the flight attendants.
In handing back the rubbish from one meal (no potatoes involved sadly) I manage to drop the tray on my fellow passengers.
In moments of panic over international waters, it's difficult to know what to say. Should I apologise in English or in Spanish?
Would they be more frustrated at me if I apologise in English, having proven myself as a bumbling Western traveller?
The result is an attempt to apologise in Spanish but not quite remembering the correct term ("lo siento") and instead basically blurting out something like "please, custard, please".
They reply in their distinctively Australian accents that it's okay, and we resume non communicating for the rest of the flight.
One of the highlights for the flights so far on Latam Airlines (a Latin American airline) has been the offering of peach juice as a beverage.
It's the greatest thing since zip ties.
I'll be endeavouring to consume as much of this as possible.
I note that potato juice was not an option so I'm beginning to suspect already they aren't as totally in love with potatoes as I might have thought.
- Ashley Walmsley travelled to Peru with assistance from the Crawford Fund and with financial support from DFAT Council on Australia Latin America Relations.