2008 Peru – Beach Club
One night we went to the 85th birthday party of a friend of Federika’s family, Milan Orlič. His daughter used to go to school with Federika. It was also the 60th anniversary of the day he arrived penniless in Peru. After taking on various menial jobs which included cleaning toilets he went into the fish meal business and became a millionaire. Federika’s father was offered the opportunity to go into business with him at the beginning but he turned it down.
The party was held in his daughter’s house which was in an area that could be described as the Beverly Hills of Lima. I was expecting a large living room with a few friends and didn’t even know there would be food there so I was surprised when I saw torches lighting the way for a mile before the house. We were shown through the front gate and saw dozens of large round tables in the garden with a dance floor and a hot and cold buffet laid out like in a five-star hotel. We stood around chatting while waiters came up to us with little titbits that were so good it took immense self-control not to fill myself up on them. On one table there was a huge block of ice adorned with giant prawns and crab claws with the shells taken off. Everything was the best that money could buy.
The dinner was spectacular although the timing of the entertainment was weird. They served an elaborate ice cream dessert and at the same time put on a slide show of Milan’s life which was fascinating. It meant we had the choice of leaving the desert to melt while we watched the presentation or eating the desert and missing the presentation. The dance music came on just at the right time and the dance floor was full in no time building up to a great atmosphere when suddenly the music stopped and a Mariachi band appeared so we all sat down. I had often seen Mariachi bands but they were always terrible musicians playing for tourists. This band was excellent and for the first 15 minutes, it was great with everyone joining in with the choruses. Unfortunately, the novelty soon wore off so we lost interest and ordered a taxi to take us home. Just as the taxi arrived, the dance music came back on and the whole place became alive again so it was frustrating that we had to leave. I had played at hundreds of similar events and the standard format would have been to have the Mariachi band playing while the guests were arriving and during the meal and then bring on the dance music with a break for a cabaret act.
Sunday 2nd March
Cholo was a childhood friend of Federika as they were all part of the same Croatian community in Lima. Like a lot of Croatian Immigrants, Cholo’s father made a fortune in fish meal. He had many businesses and one of them was a partnership in an orange farm with Federika’s father who also had many businesses. It was not a successful venture but Federika had fond memories of visiting the farm and being allowed to ride on the tractors.
Cholo was the kind of person you instantly liked and enjoyed his company. He was so full of energy and enthusiasm that it was like he started each day by plugging himself into an electric socket. Cholo and his four brothers had beach houses in an area called Costa Del Sol and he invited us to spend a few days with him. During the journey, he didn’t sit still for one second which made the drive even more fearsome than our last one. His eyes were everywhere except the road as he pointed out different sites on the way. He held animated phone conversations while he held a phone in one hand and waved the other hand around to emphasize the points he was making. His hands were off the wheel more than they were on it.
On the way to his beach house we took a trip down memory lane and visited some of the beaches Federika and Cholo went to with their parents. It was difficult for them to see beaches that were once empty, now full of buildings. There were dozens of cafes, a huge car park and a bus station that took people to and from Lima. We stopped at a town called Pucusana which was alive with small fishing boats returning with their catches. I watched as they unloaded hundreds of Bonito weighing about five kilos each. Pelicans walked amongst the people like they owned the place and stood just a few inches from us. 
Sea lions could be seen popping their heads up occasionally between the moored boats on the hunt for discarded fish. For lunch, we had one of the most popular national dishes ceviche which was raw fish marinated in lime and rapidly becoming one of my favourites. Finally, we arrived at Cholo’s house next to a beach called Asia.
The waves I had seen so far in Peru were big but nothing compared to that beach. As I walked carefully into the sea the current from the previous wave grabbed my leg and wanted to pull me out but seconds later another big wave came and pushed me back to shore. Cholo said he hadn’t seen such big waves in the ten years they owned the beach house. I found a bodyboard in the house which I was a bit nervous about trying as I had never used one before but it turned out to be great fun. I kept well away from the big waves but even the tiny ones propelled me to the shore like a rocket.
One night we went to The Boulevard, an area a couple of miles down the road that contained a large supermarket, a cinema and lots of restaurants and shops. We stopped at a busy open-air restaurant and I ordered Lomo Soltado, which was strips of marinated beef fried with red peppers and onions and absolutely delicious. The meal was spoiled a little by a DJ playing incredibly loud techno music in the middle of the village square forcing every restaurant in the area to listen to it. Towards the end of the meal, another venue started playing loud music at the same time. We were told that late at night, five venues played their music full blast so it must have been hell.
On our last night there was a major sporting event, the Asia Football Cup Final and this year was special. For the previous eight years, Cholo had organised a seven-a-side knockout football competition against all the other beaches and it had become deadly serious. The closest Cholo’s team had ever come to winning the competition was to lose in the final. That year they had made it to the final and as it was probably the last year Cholo would be fit enough to play, he was really excited about it. He had always been besotted with football and despite being 51 and racked with injuries he still played as much as he could. His knees were so badly damaged from football injuries that his doctor told him not to play any more but he went from doctor to doctor until he found one that said he could play for one more season.
The big night arrived and we went to support Cholo’s team who were very much the underdog. No one was more surprised than us to see goal after goal go into the back of the other team’s net with a final result of 8-2 to Cholo’s team. When the referee blew the final whistle, the place erupted and even the losing side celebrated because Cholo was such a popular character they were happy for him. 
After much singing and photo-taking, two suckling pigs were cooked in a Chinese Box. This was a weird kind of barbecue where you put a tray of salty water in the bottom of the box, cut the pig down the middle and flatten it down on a grill before putting it in the box. Then they lowered a tray of charcoal so the meat was barbecued from the top. I had no idea of the merits of this system compared to conventional barbecues but it was a superb meal.
2008 South America
