Peru

After visiting Portugal and my wife visited France, I chatted about my travels with a friend, Joe. He's pretty well-traveled, with one caveat. He doesn't take trips for himself. They're all family or couples trips. There's nothing wrong with that, but how you and, more specifically, who you travel with changes how you experience it. At least, that's what I believe. And so, I suggested he and I go on a trip.

But where?

I'm the best and worst travel planner because I'll literally go anywhere. I'm in if it fits the budget and the available days on the calendar. The end. So I took my minimal budget, and the only week in November 2023, we both were free and started looking for the stars to align.

Pretty quickly, Peru was the target, Miraflores, to be exact. It's a quiet little town 50 minutes south of the capital, where I found a quaint, modestly appointed condo on Airbnb that looked over the South Pacific Ocean.

The Best Laid Plans

Joe and I have scheduled a handful of activities and tours, with enough downtime to wander the area and "act like a local." It's 24 hours before our flight, and I waste no time rushing to check-in. I sent Joe a message with a successful check-in and eagerly waited for him to do the same.

He didn't.

I didn't think much of it; he's much busier than I, at least professionally, and it was essentially his last work day before departing on an international trip.

Not long later, my phone rings.

That should have been a red flag, I'm a texter not a talker. But it's Joe, probably excited or asking me to pack something last minute.

I was wrong.

It turns out that Joe's passport expires five months and two weeks from take off. That's two weeks short of the minimum six months of validity to use it to leave the country. That's right; less than 24 hours from take-off, and Joe can't check-in. I commend his confidence, though. He spent the day trying to schedule an emergency appointment at the Department of State, called the US Embassy in Peru, and was prepared to drive up and down the East Coast wherever he could get an appointment. Alas, it was too late. He could do nothing, and this guy's trip of ours was now a solo one.

I talk a big game. But at the time, I had only been outside of the country once, also with a friend. Suddenly, my confidence in wandering a foreign country with about a year of DuoLingo Spanish and Portuguese was being tested.

Noche De Llegada

It was a long flight. I wouldn't have minded with a friend in tow. We'd be day drunk and planned to stumble upon some Dia De La Muertos festivities. It turns out that's not really how it goes down in Peru. There the day is focused on families private remembrance. It was night in a busy airport, and I quickly realized I could not get an Uber. At least, not without walking into areas a more responsible traveler would avoid. Before I could say al carajo and go wandering into the unknown a young woman peaked in head inside the sliding tours and asked if I needed a ride.

Red flag aside, I assessed the situation. I saw enough people wearing the same black-on-black with matching laminated pricing sheets and decided to ve con dios. I paid twice what I should have to get to the Airbnb, but I made it safely and had a chance to practice my Spanish in a closed setting. I learned that she was 36, liked to dance, had three kids, and was an abuela.

I took my newfound confidence into the lobby of the building and checked in with the guy at the front desk. Then, I hopped into a tiny elevator and made it to my quiet, very empty home for the week.

Day One

Despite misunderstanding the menu, I had a yummy desayuno overlooking the bay at la Beunavista Café before walking along the shorelined highway past tsunami evacuation signs to visit the Place of Memory, Tolerance and Social Inclusion. It was a moving dose of history and I found the choice words describing certain groups as terrorists triggering. However, the focus on the Indigenous people and their struggles in a developing Peru was powerful.

I ended my wandering with a cold Cosqueña and relleno at Francesco. I misinterpreted a menu item again, confusing the Andian Rocoto pepper with Ricotta cheese. However, I found the shrimp-stuffed pepper a delightful surprise. Later that night, I joined a walking food and street art tour, where I tried a series of fruits I had never heard of, ceviche, and beef heart.

The highlight of the night, the best damn Lomo Saltado I've ever had at Ayahuasca Resto Bar and helping the sober tourists I was with by drinking their Pisco Sours from Juanito de Barranco. Let's say I had... three. Or was it four? I was drinking for two, after all.

The night was full of art, good food, jovial laughter, a stray dog, and learning a little about the American embassy from a family who was visiting their son stationed there.

Day Two

I can be pretty closed-minded, especially about food. One of the things I wanted to do specifically on this trip with Joe was push us both outside of our comfort zones. See above: I mean, beef heart?! Civiche?!

On day two, I decided to lean into a skill Joe possessed and I very much did not. We scheduled a daylong tour to Huacachina that was to end with a couple of hours of sandboarding. My host was Rafa from Sand Ride Lima, and I highly recommend them for any fun way to spend a day or random night downtown. More on that later.

Rafa picked me up, asking, "Where's your friend?" I explained the situation, and he informed me that the tour that day was going to be just the three of us: Joe, Rafa, and me. Now, I was to spend the next 16 hours with this guy alone, hours away from my home base, in a foreign country, taking on a skill I had never tried before. Alas, Rafa made it all so smooth and easy. It was a long drive, with a lot of food, lots of music, more food, roadside mobility, road beers, conversation, more food, and lots of pisco.

By the time we got to the oasis, I was worried I wouldn't get to enjoy much of it. It turns out that all that carb loading and inhibition lowering we were doing was strategic.

After practicing my balance with a local kid in front of a storefront, I met fellow travelers joining us: a pilot from Mexico, a group from Ireland, and some more of Rafa's team. We hit the dunes. Sandboarding is tiring, but somehow, it is easier for me than snowboarding. Despite all the carb loading, I was still tired and approached the last two hills, hoping each was the last. I enjoyed a Costa Rican pilsner as the sun set, boarded down a small hill in darkness back under the market lights of the small town.

Before leaving, we shared a toast with fellow boarders from France, Russia, and beyond. I fell asleep in the backseat of Rafa's truck as he got me back to my Airbnb safely just before midnight.

Day Three

Rightly, we planned this day to be chill. More wandering and maybe sleeping in. When I finally braved the day, I was hangry and found myself at Barba Negra where I nommed on a delicious "bbq" sándwich con papas. It was a leisurely lunch with a breeze as I washed down the meal with a cocktail and got a few canned craft cervezas para llevar.

I walked along the nearby park and discovered statues and documents in remembrance of Magdalena Truel. I gained a new appreciation of how far-reaching the effects of great wars can be felt, and it made me curious about their impact on nations whose names are rarely brought up, at least not favorably, when discussing them.

Rafa and I had exchanged contact information the night before. He was staying downtown because he had a couple more tours and invited me to come hang out at his hostel. I've heard stories and met people who have lived much more wander-filled and adventurous lives than I have, and I figured this might be my only chance to see what the vibe is like. I can be a minimalist, but I think my hostel days are long past. So, I took the opportunity to visit and see how the other half lived.

There was lots of karaoke, carbs, and shooters. I chatted with a couple of remote software engineers, one from Peru and another from the States, an exec in town from Spain who travels back and forth for business, and a woman from Colombia who was spending three months traveling through South America solo, making my week-long forced bit of solo traveling bravery seem precious in comparison.

After the hostel shut down the rooftop party, the host led us to another "party" down the street. That party turned out to be a club. Trying to embrace every opportunity while I was there, I paid the cover and went in. The group I was with dispersed, and I asked myself, "If I don't go to clubs in America, what made me think I'd enjoy a club here?" I waded through the crowd, said bye to Rafa, and hopped in an Uber.

Day Four

This would be a long day, so I wanted a hearty 'American-style breakfast to power it. I found such a meal at Cafe de Lima before doing a little gift shopping. I'm not huge on keepsakes and wanted something substantial to remember Peru by so I visited La Zapateria and got a pair of custom shoes made before I took some time to just sit in a square and people-watch for a bit.

Next up was the Jade Rivera Museo. I found his work, history, and impact very moving.

After all that walking, I returned to Ayahuasca for another serving of Lomo Saltado. Finally, I ventured back towards Miraflores to embark on an experience I was most excited about. Learning more about the African diaspora as it pertains to Peru through music. Es un mundo pequeño. After telling her I was from Washington, DC, the instructor, Paloma, informed me that she played at the Kennedy Center once. The other classmate, Cara, was also traveling alone and had her self previously lived just 30 minutes from me in Maryland.

But eventually, it clicked. Again, there was a lot of laughter and humility. It was rare, but when I did manage to get "in the pocket," it felt great, and for a moment, I think I got a taste of what it would be like to be in a band.

Before all this, there was a discussion on how the Peruvian cajón came to be. The conversation was good, if not awkward, at times. Language barriers and perhaps a desire not to offend were at play. Either way, the take was far less theoretical in tone compared to what you'll find on Wikipedia, which was refreshing. Should I be able to return to Peru one day, I'll commit more time and energy to visiting communities where Afro-Peruvians still thrive and learn more about the black experience in Peru.

Day Five

It's my last day, and I'm light on plans. I booked a few last-minute tours, hopped on the public bus, and wandered the historic district.

The guide and I exchanged music recommendations. It was another one-on-one experience that allowed me to continue stumbling through Spanish while navigating some discomfort over cultural differences and word choices. I visited a food market, Chinatown, and enjoyed an "energizing" bebida con hoja de coca at Gran Hotel Bolívar.

Next I met up with Eduardo, a craft beer buff and witnessed him geek out over my reaction to every brew he put before me. Beer isn't traditionally my jam, but I found the settings in which we enjoyed them refreshing and creatively inspiring.

Through it all, I think I most appreciated two things. (1) Traveling, or at least planning to travel, with a friend forces you to plan differently and consider things outside your comfort zone. I'm really grateful for that, and (2) Traveling solo allows for so much more social engagement. I tend to stick to my own. My friends, family, coworkers, the end. I don't spend much energy in truly seeing and hearing other people. But alone, you are forced to pay attention. To get out of your own head and acknowledge and appreciate the experience of strangers.

I left Peru feeling like I made a dozen new friends, and if I am to never see them again, that's ok. But I am better off having met them. I am kinder and more open-minded in the experience.

This alone is a reason to travel more. If only to strengthen my appreciation for the diversity of experiences in an increasingly mean and lonely world.

Be Kind and Brave

Rafa went out of his way to make me comfortable and help me have some unique experiences in Peru. During our cajon class, Cara mentioned that she didn't have plans for a day, so I told her about my sandboarding experience before giving her Rafa's contact information on WhatsApp. Rafa sent me a photo of them as I got home and said thanks. I messaged Cara afterward, and she confirmed she had a blast.