There’s More to Peru Than Machu Picchu

I’ve longed to see Machu Picchu since I first learned of it however many decades ago, and the desire surged when Explora opened a lodge in Peru’s Sacred Valley in 2016. My husband, Adam, and I are huge fans of the company. I first experienced it in Chile’s Atacama Desert in the 1990s, and since then, we’ve gone to two of the Patagonia lodges and on an expedition (no longer offered) from Salta, Argentina, over the Andes to the Atacama.

Adam resisted a Peru trip for years, despite frequent Explora emails offering discounts at the Sacred Valley property, because he was wary of the high elevation. (Bad experience in Quito.) Eventually, I wore him down, and/or he needed a break from living next to two houses under construction.

Not unlike New Zealand, Peru is far away (around a nine-hour flight from Los Angeles), but the time difference isn’t bad—it’s only two hours ahead of us. And our flights on Latam were during the day, so we never felt whacked out by anything other than being cooped up on a plane. The entry was inauspicious, however, as we arrived in Lima at 9 p.m. and spent a night in a grim airport Wyndham where the corridor smelled like fish, which evidently happens in the city.

In the morning, we flew to Arequipa. It’s the country’s second-largest city, and yet I had never heard of it. What a delightful surprise! The city center is gorgeous, with many buildings made from a white volcanic stone called sillar.

Arequipa reminded us of Oaxaca, but far better, because it never felt manic. The three major volcanoes—El Misti, Chacani, and Pichu Pichu—on the horizon added ineffable flair.

It helps when you love your hotel. Located in a former monastery, the 11-room Cirqa has style to burn. We stayed in the room type called Bóveda, with a metal bathroom installed at one end of the vaulted space. The windows looked out onto the restaurant/bar courtyard, which meant that we had to close the draperies at night or we’d be on display. That was better than some rooms, where the sole window is in the door. What do you expect when you’re in a 16th-century monastery?

The restaurant is handsome, and the food was the best we had in town. The first photo is of mini rocoto peppers stuffed with beef and cheese; the second is of a dessert made with a custardy fruit, lúcuma, that was new to us; and the third photo is of breakfast, a tray that you can supplement with a hot dish.

No hotel is perfect, of course. As striking as the design was, I do like a nightstand, and a trough-style sink is far less useful than someplace to place your toiletries. (Speaking of the bathroom, as in many developing nations, you can’t flush the toilet paper.) We were baffled by the decision to burn wood fires on the restaurant/bar terrace, rendering the air there unbreathable. And the bill includes a “10% service tax,” but then a staffer also asks at checkout whether you’d care to tip, ending the stay on an awkward note. Nonetheless, I’d heartily recommend the hotel.

The most prominent attraction in town is the twin-spired cathedral on the main plaza. The interior is dramatic, even if I wish the stone hadn’t been painted, and the tour includes a visit to the roof for a view of the volcanoes and the plaza. But the most interesting part of the cathedral might be the confessional booths out front.

Arequipa’s most satisfying attraction has to be the Santa Catalina Monastery, a nunnery more than 20,000 square meters in size and only partially opened to the public in 1970. The red walls are painted with ocher, and we were warned not to touch.

The place is magical—and still in use. Our guide said that tour groups occasionally catch a glimpse of nuns, who have been known to evangelize. Here’s hoping they’re no longer using this set-up for laundry.

Did you know that poinsettia plants can grow into trees?

A close second was Claustros de la Compañía, the cloisters of a church that are now home to shops and restaurants. None of the businesses are that appealing, but the complex is stunning, and it has barely been tarted up.

We went back in the evening for a drink on the roof—the photos look like they’re in black and white.

The main food market of any city is a must, and San Camilo Market doesn’t disappoint—especially when it comes to potatoes. We failed in that we didn’t try queso helado, a famous Arequipa dessert, because most of the time were stuffed from our most recent meal.

We were only in town for two nights, but we packed in quite a bit—besides the above-mentioned attractions, we walked around the up-and-coming San Lázaro neighborhood and the less interesting Yanahuara District. The streets are lively: there are a lot of food vendors, and we also saw people charging for the opportunity to weigh yourself, a man selling Spider-Man costumes (while dressed as Spider-Man), and a guy pushing a huge cart laden with shoelaces. (What are the odds of running into him right when you need him?) Plus: one of the weirdest mannequins ever and a sign that appears to warn people about pedestrians fixated on their phones.

I’m not going to pretend that the city is 100% lovely. Beyond the center, streets often look like this—schlocky buildings, a web of utility lines, etc. At rush hour, vans and buses are everywhere, adding to the poor air quality (175 AQI during our visit). But at 7,550 feet above sea level, the city made for a terrific warm-up before heading to higher parts of Peru.

The big mistake we made while planning this trip was underestimating the toll that driving—being driven, I should say—would take. The roads aren’t great, the traffic can be intense, and you’re constantly passing or being passed on a two-lane road. Outside Arequipa, there was a parade of buses and trucks in both directions. At times, we would start to pass a truck—only to get passed by the car behind us.

As a result, the four-hour drive to the Colca Valley felt twice as long. Luckily, we stopped at the airport to pick up a fun San Diego couple staying at the same hotel, which helped pass the time. The break at a roadside stand was also welcome. We were headed to a tent hotel called Puqio, at 10,545 feet above sea level, so the guide insisted we drink a tea made with coca, an Andean mint called muña, and other herbs. Coca gets pushed a lot for altitude sickness, but no other local we met believed that it helps. Muña is delicious, though.

Adam is famous for hedging risk, and yet on this trip, we stayed in three hotels owned by one company, Andean, with which we had no experience. Cirqa was a hit, as was Puqio, and we wished that we had been able to spend more than one night there, for it would’ve been nice to chill for a day in such a magical setting. The purple-red plant is quinoa—wonderful to look at, but still not interesting to eat. We were much more excited about another new-to-us fruit, tumbo, also called banana passion fruit, that was served in a sorbet. It was sweet and delicious, without the piercing flavor of normal passion fruit.

The stars!

During our one afternoon at Puqio, the San Diegans joined us for a visit to Uyo Uyo, ruins of a pre-Incan culture called Collagua that lost some charm when the guide pointed out how, decades ago, a mayor had them mortared with cement. The walk was just hard enough to remind us to take it easy or risk altitude sickness. That said, I wish we had visited the Chacapi thermal baths instead.

In the morning, we went to watch the Andean condors riding the thermals to fly out of Colca Canyon, where they nest, to look for food elsewhere.

The land, terraced by the Incas, is otherworldly.

Our next stop was Pinchollo geyser, remarkable for the fact that there was no one else there and you can walk right up to it. Nighttime temperatures are so low that the steam freezes on nearby plants.

When our guide noticed how excited we got by fruit, he insisted we try sancayo (a cactus fruit shown here without its spines), also known as sanky fruit. It’s tart, so it was served to us in a drink with simple syrup and soda water.

And then we spent the rest of the day, and some of the night, driving back to Arequipa, flying to Cusco, and driving two-plus hours in insane traffic to Explora‘s lodge in the Sacred Valley. I was immediately at home, because all Explora lodges feel similar at the core. The architect in this case was José Cruz Ovalle. While outside has a 1970s-condo vibe, inside tempers dramatic shapes, ceiling heights, and ramps with a lot of warm wood.

The reason we love the company so much is that its priorities overlap nearly perfectly with ours. We want comfort—a nice room, good food, the ability to flush toilet paper—but we also want to see parts of nature we wouldn’t be able to easily access on our own.

The food was excellent, if perhaps a tad overdecorated with edible flowers. The hotel’s partnership with famous Peruvian chef Virgilio Martinez ended during our stay, so the situation could conceivably change.

The Sacred Valley lodge is fantastic, and I have no qualms about recommending it—with one major caveat. In that part of the world, farmers burn their fields after harvesting, and while the smoke didn’t impact our hikes, it did make sitting outside impossible at times, and when the field right outside the hotel was burning, even inside was compromised. (The hotel might want to offer air purifiers for guests to use in their rooms.) The burning happens in June, July and August, and the guides had different suggestions about the best time to visit; the one I trusted most said May.

Every evening, guests meet with the guides to talk about what they want to do the next day. (Half-day and full-day excursions are available.) Explora is 9,776 feet above sea level, so Adam and I started slowly, spending the first morning exploring the town of Urquillos on our own. It was our first encounter with the little vehicles known as toritos, and we vowed to get an answer to the question of why so many houses—not only in Peru, but also in other countries—appear unfinished, with exposed rebar. And we had an amusing cross-cultural moment when, as we approached the church, we heard a man inside singing Leonard Cohen’s “Hallelujah.”

In the afternoon, a guide joined us on the Huertos de Yucay hike, which leads to a stunning view of the valley. Along the way, he answered the rebar question (owners of unfinished buildings don’t have to pay taxes) and explained that the growths on the wires are airplants from seeds that have blown over the mountains from the Amazon basin.

Day two was more ambitious: five-ish hours of walking, mostly flat or downhill, with stops to admire the Incan circular terraces at Moray, have lunch (where we were invaded by a herd of sheep), and admire the Salineras saltworks. A nice couple from outside Calabasas—Californians were a theme of the trip—came along. One of the things we’ve always liked about Explora is that you tend to go on these excursions with other people (eight max per group in Peru), which can be refreshing after traveling with your spouse for a while. The hotel wasn’t very busy during our stay, however, so this was the only hike we did with fellow travelers.

Day three was Machu Picchu. The easy way to see it is to just take a train (90 minutes) to the bus (30 minutes), but we chose to hike in via the Inca Trail. That meant leaving the hotel at 4:40 a.m. and getting off the train well before the final stop. Explora outsources Machu Picchu to another company—in our case, Terra Explorer—for an additional cost. Our guide said that the main trail was still being repaired from damage during the rainy season, so we had to take a trail that ran along the river for a while and then go straight up (mainly steps) for 90 minutes. The views are sublime, and pretty flowers pop up along the route.

If I hadn’t spotted this snake at the last moment, I would’ve stepped on it. “Oh, I don’t think so,” said the guide when I asked if it was venomous. A friend back home identified it as a type of fer-de-lance—very venomous—which Explora’s guides subsequently confirmed.

It was a relief to finally reach the Incan ruins of Wiñaywayna, where we were the only people around, so we sat there for a while before repairing to lunch. Terra Explorer hires porters to bring up not just the food, but also a tarp, chairs, and a portable bathroom. The lunch, by the way, was fantastic—much better than Explora’s decent packed lunches.

And then we hiked more, stopping here and there so we wouldn’t arrive too early for our 2 p.m. admission at Machu Picchu. Hikers enter through the Sun Gate, at the top of what our guide called “monkey stairs,” but which I overheard another guide call “gringo killers.”

Machu Picchu is worthy of the hype. We were afraid it would be overrun, and while there were times when we wished fewer people were around, it wasn’t like Disneyland or something. Visitors have fixed arrival times and must follow one of three circuits. That we arrived via a back entrance probably also helped—as did our guide finagling a way for us to avoid having to retrace our steps.

I won’t say too much about Machu Picchu, because I think you have to be there to absorb the scope of it—and to feel, rather powerfully, our own minor existence on a long continuum. On a more micro level, the Incas’ way with stone and their ability to channel water was impressive.

Our guide must have wanted to get home, because he really hustled toward the end, talking up every Peru Rail agent possible to get us on a much earlier train—sparing us two hours of hanging around the touristy town of Aguas Calientes. We sat across from a French couple from L.A., with whom we shared some good laughs when a Peru Rail staffer danced down the aisle dressed as a she-demon—followed by a 10-outfit fashion show, after which the staffers aggressively tried to move the merch. (If all of this sounds like a very long day, and it was, you might consider spending two nights at the Belmond hotel right near Machu Picchu.)

On day four, we did the 5 Lagunas hike. The first part was uphill, to an elevation of 14,295 feet above sea level, which required slow walking and steady breathing. But then the rest was mainly downhill. What was rough going for us is daily life for the people of that area—who somehow manage even to play soccer.

For our final day, I requested something about as difficult as 5 Lagunas, but with different scenery. That meant Huchuy Qosqo, which starts out in open country and leads to an Incan trail that descends into a canyon, ending with panoramic views of the valley.

I love Explora! I’ve been recommending the company for a long time now, and I will continue to do so. (I receive nothing in return.) I hope my next adventure will be to the Uyuni salt flats of Bolivia. Beyond that, Explora is said to be working on a lodge in Iceland, and the word at the Peru property is that it has also purchased land near the Peruvian city of Huaraz.

Our luck with the Andean hotel group, however, ran out in Lima. On paper, the six-room Atemporal sounded like Ett Hem in Stockholm—old building, private home vibe, etc. Even taking impossible expectations into account, the place disappointed. Our room was right off the foyer, so we could hear every word said there (and the doorbell every time it rang), and the only fully transparent windows looked out to the backyard tables where breakfast is served. The experience wasn’t terrible, and the access to a kitchen stocked with snacks and beverages is nice, but the property isn’t nearly as refined as Cirqa or Puqio.

And, while this is beyond the hotel’s control, points must be deducted for the large building under construction across the street. At least we weren’t at risk of being harassed.

We only had one full day in Lima, so these impressions are shallow at best. The first thing I noticed was how many buildings are walled off at the sidewalk, calling to mind São Paulo.

For the most part, the architecture doesn’t have the charm of Mexico City or Buenos Aires—there’s rather a lot of dreck.

And when you do come across a terrific building, it might have an unworthy neighbor.

There are some nice ones, though!

All of which is why I was probably more drawn to the modern storefronts when they popped up. They felt extra fresh in the context of this city—and this trip. We hadn’t seen anything like it since driving to LAX.

Crossing the street is an adrenalin rush. If there are rules, we never figured them out; we just ran when we saw an opportunity. Other moments that seemed Lima specific: stoplight countdown clocks for cars; jauntily askew sidewalk meters; creepy do-not-cross tape; and vendors selling pastries from cases on the front of their bikes.

Adam wanted to check out the oceanfront, which reminded us of Santa Monica, albeit with worse weather. (Lima gets hardly any rain—the water all comes from the Andes—and it’s gray most of the time.) We planned on visiting the Museo de Sitio Pucllana, a pre-Incan archaeological site in the middle of the city, but you have to commit to a tour, so instead we just looked at it online. We were guided out by that point.

As a traveler, the neighborhood you hear the most about is Miraflores, but the one with the most distinctive sense of place has to be Barranco. It’s a little rundown, a little bohemian, and a little touristy.

The thing that impressed me most about Lima was the state of its parks. We went to quite a few, and they were uniformly lovely. I was struck how many of them, particularly in the San Isidro district, are bordered by buildings (but open to the public), so you don’t feel the presence of cars.

Parque Kennedy, in Miraflores, is known for its cats, who appear to be well cared for.

Lima’s food scene is internationally renowned, and I wish we had more time to explore it. What we did find was enjoyable, if not mind-blowing. My favorite meal was dinner at Siete, where the standout dish was Spanish-style tortilla topped with fried fish and Sichuan sauce (below). I may have been unduly swayed by the scene—young, stylish people in a sexy room.

At Contraste, in contrast, the room was close to empty, because we dined early, the better to cope with a morning flight. The menu is certainly exciting, and we were happy to double down on duck, loving both the duck gyoza and the duck confit with gooseberries.

Before our flight, I walked over to a nearby outpost of the Puku Puku chain to pick up coffee. The café has a little market section stocked gourmet foods—an amusing reminder that everything is relative.

P.S. During our time in Peru, Lima shifted to a new airport—so we arrived into the old and left from the new. Despite reports of a messy start, it worked fine for us, although the directional signage could be clearer and Latam’s lounge isn’t expected to open till January at the earliest.

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Previous travel coverage:
••• On a Backroads Tour of New Zealand’s South Island
••• Navigating the North Island of New Zealand
••• Don’t Be So Quick to Write Off Phoenix
••• The Most Magical City in the World
••• One and Done in Sedona
••• A Proper Visit to Santa Monica
••• A Quickie in San Francisco
••• Dipping a Toe Into Southern Corsica
↓↓↓ The Exquisite Luxury of Taking Paris for Granted
••• Santa Rosa Island in One Day
••• Soaking Up History at Castle Hot Springs
••• Driving Through the Heart of Hokkaido
••• Tokyo Is a World Unto Itself
••• Paso Robles, Pinnacles National Park, and Beyond
••• A Review of the Inn at Mattei’s Tavern
••• Another Quickie in L.A.
••• Sitting Pretty at the One & Only Mandarina
••• The Mysteries of Istanbul
••• Palm Springs: Midweek at the Oasis
••• Exploring the Sea Caves of Santa Cruz Island
••• A Summer Swing Through the Northeast
••• Why Is Everyone Going to Portugal?
••• Patagonia Made Easy
••• A Quickie in L.A.
••• From Penthouse to Pavement in Mexico City
••• Do Greek Islands Live Up to the Fantasy?
••• Splendid Isolation at Utah’s Lodge at Blue Sky
••• Three Reasons to Visit Paso Robles Now

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