From Pisco to Peaks to the Oasis

Solo travel isn’t solo the way people think. You’re rarely alone—you’re just with new people all the time. Humans of Peru is a thread through this trip: quick snapshots of the folks I met who changed a day, a plan, or just the vibe.

SEA

Lima

Long flight; SIM card and sunscreen in the Miraflores bustle; straight to Amankaya for ceviche—bright, fresh, exactly what you want to kick off your trip. I walked the Larcomar cliffs with the ocean on one side and city on the other. Lima feels like a place that kept the best of its past and upgraded what mattered.

Plaza de Armas at golden hour is a free show. Basílica San Francisco (and its catacombs) delivers drama. In the Inca Garcilaso Cultural Center, a dark room tells you “you are a dog”—odd, memorable. MALI’s Faith Moves Mountains sticks with you long after you leave.

Kennedy Park turns into an outdoor variety show (yes, with cats). At Lady Bee, the drinks live up to the hype:

Humans of Peru — Amélie (from Marseilles): met between mass and museums; swapped “must-sees” and went opposite directions, as you do.

SIERRA

Cusco

Cusco arrives with mountains and humility. Needed cash; my phone died on the far side of town; a police officer gave me turn-by-turn directions from memory and sent me on my way. People are kind here.

First dinner was local: cuy nuggets (texture between chicken and pork; works with olive sauce), alpaca tenderloin (good flavor, very lean). At night the city climbs the mountains in lights.

Small wins: I hiked to Cristo Blanco and Saqsaywaman in intervals—walk, breathe, repeat—and got the payoff view. Organika refueled me (tapitas + Black Mule). I grabbed Inca Rail tickets and a poncho I didn’t need but enjoyed. Qorikancha (Temple of the Sun) is calm stone, soft light. I stepped into a wedding for a minute—perfect timing.

Humans of Peru — Museum Attendant: I forgot my ticket back at the hotel; he waved me through with a smile. Small gesture, big kindness.

Sacred Valley

Chinchero sat in fog. At a textile co-op, cochineal crushed in a palm turned dye bright red. We tried the infamous “condor pee” sniff (alcohol + coca + a wake-up kick) at ~4,000m.

Maras Salt Mines looked like someone tiled a mountain; Pisac added high-altitude drama.

Humans of Peru — Ramiya and Fiona: Befriended two different groups (one from Montreal), merged them together for dinner and demolished some pizza.

Machu Picchu

3:40 a.m. wake-up. A long trek to Ollantaytambo, then a train ride to Aguas Caliente, before hoping on a bus that carves switchbacks that make Santorini look modest. By the time we reach the gate, the clouds are lifting off the peaks.

Machu Picchu is exactly as grand as the photos—then more. Terraces step down forever. Stone joints sit flush without mortar. The guide covered the city’s ritual spaces, everyday living, and how certain windows line up with the sun at key times; the mix of engineering and ceremony is what gets you. It’s not just a “view”—it’s a functioning idea of a city placed on a ridgeline between cloud forest and sky.

Lunch in Aguas Calientes turned into a long sit. I tried 28-day dry aged whole cuy (flavorful but boney; the spices lingered into the next day). Good to try once; wouldn't recommend for the faint of heart.

Back in town, two Canadian travelers showed me their photo of Rainbow Mountain completely snowed out. “We didn't know what to expect, but it wasn't this,” they said between chuckles. I debated. Confirmed it anyway. If there was a running lesson on this trip, it was: go and find out.

Rainbow Mountain

The bus became a small world: Iftak from Toronto; Victor and Maira from Brazil; and then the best coincidence of the trip.

Humans of Peru — Justin from Capreol: halfway across the world I’m next to a Sudburian—from Capreol—with a Positive Inception sticker on his phone. What are the odds? We slipped into hometown shorthand immediately.

The hike is a steady forty-minute push at altitude. I kept an even pace, took breaks, and the payoff was full color: rust, mint, plum, cream bands laid across the ridge, wind snapping at jackets. After the snowed-out warning, having the mountain show up like that felt like winning the day. It was the highlight of the entire trip.

That night, I found my favorite standard Peruvian cocktail: the Chilcano de Pisco. Also, coca tea did its job all week—no miracles, but steady help with the altitude.

DUNES

Arequipa

Arequipa is a deep breath: balcony beer over the Plaza de Armas, cathedral spires, volcanoes in the background. Santa Catalina Monastery is a color wheel of courtyards. Yanahuara frames Misti perfectly. The Juanita (Ampato) Museum is sobering and worth it for a glimpse into Peru's historic human sacrifices.

Nueva Palomino handled lunch: rocoto relleno with chicha morada—cheap, cheerful, very local. I wandered a non-touristy mall for a reset, then watched the rooftops go gold. Dinner at Zig Zag surprised me: stone-seared lamb/alpaca/beef, excellent bread with garlic butter, and a chocolate mousse I didn’t expect to love. (Not every bite on this trip landed—cough, scallop gonads—but that’s part of trying things.)

Humans of Peru — Steve (Toronto): I was hydrating on a bench at Yanahuara when a group of kids interviewed the guy across from me for a school project. After they left, we started talking—he’d come down for three months, found an apartment for $300 CAD total, and spent his afternoons chasing views and writing songs (and yes, enjoying the local greenery). We chatted for an hour about life choices with a volcano backdrop. Unexpected, very Arequipa.

Huacachina (Oasis)

No Uber; tiny taxi with lawnmower wheels and a careful driver. The dune climb is a leg-day prank that'll make you sweat; the view is a palm-ringed lake in a bowl of sand. I met Isabelle from Australia on the ridge and we traded photos while the wind erased our footprints. Nightclubs battled until 7 a.m.; bathrooms took a firm stance against toilet seats. I did almost nothing and felt great about it.

SEA (Again)

Lima

New tactic I’ll keep using: upgrade accommodations as the trip goes on. Start modest; end comfortable. By the final days you’re tired and want easy.

Iberostar Miraflores sealed it. Floor-to-ceiling windows over the park and ocean, rooftop pool with a DJ, gym on the 17th floor. I didn’t even leave for dinner—Kimo (in-house) was phenomenal: ceviche maki, crab rolls, gyoza, ramen. The next day, Astrid y Gastón delivered the best lamb I’ve ever had, with a tiny cuy taco that redeemed the earlier experience. I looped Kennedy Park one last time and bought the painting I couldn’t stop thinking about.

Final Thoughts

Sea level taught me to taste everything. The Sierra taught me to pace myself and keep saying yes. The Dunes taught me to slow down on purpose. Rainbow Mountain was the peak—literally and figuratively—and meeting a fellow Valley kid on that bus was the kind of twist that proves solo travel is still full of people. Peru was everything I was looking for and more. The kind of place that allows you to discover as much about yourself as you do about the place and the people.