I sit for 15 hours on a plane (needs no further explanation, listening to me describe it is maybe as dull as doing it.)

At Los Angeles Airport I get some breakfast, since apparently it is even earlier in the morning now than it was when I took off 15 hours ago. I take my chance to grab some root beer, which is probably my favourite soft drink, but it's unavailable outside the USA for some reason. My mistake is ordering a large, an elementary error in the States. It wouldn't have looked out of place if the attendant used a petrol pump to fill my gigantic cup.

Seats are few and far between, and I get chatting to a gay Mexican lady dentist, living in L.A, who takes the table near me. She shares her stories of her brother getting kidnapped in Mexico City, how she got shot at in L.A., and about a range of other afflictions to members her family.

Now I sit on another plane for another 8 hours before arriving in Lima just before midnight.