It's Peru, Baby.

Didn't make it in to post yesterday, as I was still very much recovering from the weekend. You see, Tito's brother, Jorge, suddenly sprung it on us about a week ago that he was going to get married in several days. (This was not as much of a shock as it could have been, seeing as he already has two children with his new lady wife). However, what did come as somewhat of a blow to us is that he wished to use our living room for the reception party. You see, Tito and I, sleep in an area which is partially comprised of approximately 30% of the said living room. After rather a bit of furniture shifting, we did however return the living room to it's full girth, just in time for the party on Saturday night. With festivities kicking off at the unseemly hour of 10:30pm, we knew we were in for a night entirely without sleep... enormous speakers blasting salsa and Spanish ballads outside one's bedroom door is not conducive to a good kip. It was a jolly good fiesta, but like all good things in Peru, no-one wanted it to come to an end. The bride, before passing out, did a special display of a hip-thrusting, one arm on the floor type of dance; the groom did an improptu strip... still no-one thought it time to go home until about six in the morning. Even then, the hangers-on lingered. At eight in the morning, as Tito and Jorge were drinking pisco and embracing/arguing, I turned off the music and finally made it to bed. Four hours later, we were up and out for some hair-of-the-dog and ceviche. I never before knew how raw fish and Inca cola shandies for breakfast can pep you up!