A solo adventure to Peru, South America
How I summoned up my courage to embark on a solo month-long trip to Peru
Traveling to South America had always been a faraway dream, being literally on the other side of the globe from Singapore. My friends and I would always talk about it with a wistful glint in our eyes, ‘When we’re 30, let’s go to South America.’ But reality got in the way, what with everyone’s work and own life commitments, and the intimidating notion of having to plan for this big trip… so nothing happened.
In the lead up to my 32nd birthday, I decided to take action. I’d go on a solo adventure, friends be damned. To make things easier, I decided to stick to visiting one country, Peru. This would be my first trip, and not the last, I vowed.
Armed with basic level Duolingo Spanish, that’s how I found myself stepping out of the Lima airport in May. I was bleary-eyed and exhausted from an arduous 30 hour-long journey, involving three different flights from Singapore- Doha, Doha- Madrid and Madrid- Lima. Thankfully, I timed my layovers just right that I didn’t have to sleep on the grubby floor of some airport, and I had spent most of the flights working on my Japan Michinoku Coastal Trail story which made the time pass by faster.
LIMA TOURIST STARTER PACK
Taking the tourist bus through gray Lima in the early morning, it felt slightly disappointing to see the city shrouded in fog.
I had initially planned to book a hostel to tap on its social aspect to ease into the city, but my comped accommodation by PromPeru came through! From Parque Kennedy (affectionately known as cat central), I walked over to the Casa Andina Premium Miraflores in the upscale Miraflores district. The hotel, which caters to many business travelers, has been built on an 18-story contemporary design building, with rooms decorated with colonial furniture and works of Peruvian art.
That afternoon, I took an Uber for my interview with celebrity chef Palmiro Ocampo at his new soon-to-open restaurant in the San Isidro district. It took some time before I hunted down the elusive entrance, and the team greeted me warmly.
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Over the next hour, he shared his philosophy for optimal cuisine for this potato story I was working on. Reporting overseas always feels a bit surreal - ‘Am I really here doing this, my ultimate dream gig?’ - and yet it feels all too familiar to slide into the ritual of asking questions, connecting with folks, jotting down notes in my notebook. It truly feels like such an immense privilege to experience the world this way.
Given its reputation as a gastronomic food capital, naturally I had to sample the local dishes. I signed up with a Lima Walking Tour, specifically the food tour to Lima’s Central Market and Chinatown.
Throughout the three-hour long tour, I learnt about everything from coca leaves (typically eaten to help with altitude sickness.. and the leaves of which are the source of the drug cocaine), their guinea pig delicacy, chicha morada (a sweet drink made from purple corn), hallucinogenic san pedro cactuses (typically taken before one moves on to ayahuasca). Our guide joked, “After boiling and drinking it, you’ll see your ancestors.”
Later we hung out by a corner of the market, where we sampled fresh ceviche and an assortment of fruits. The spread comprised aguaymanto (tart, sweet, so bright and tropical like citrus), lucuma fruit (a super food, once referred as the Gold of the Incas) and chirimoya (also known as a custard apple).
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Over in Chinatown, I was fascinated to learn about Peru’s wave of Chinese immigrants, who flocked to the country for job opportunities and fled Communist rule. Naturally, they brought their cuisine with them, which led to chifa (fusion of Peruvian and Chinese ingredients) being a key part of Peru’s food scene today.
I spent the remainder of the weekend working, enjoyed a golden sunset by the Parque de Amor (Lover’s Park), and explored the bohemian art district of Barranco.
Some places I checked out: Dedalo Cafe with its beautiful courtyard cafe and contemporary arts shop, and the Museo Jade Rivera, a museum which pays tribute to the acclaimed muralist.
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FIRST GLIMPSE OF THE SACRED VALLEY
A short flight from Lima to Cusco later, I felt my spirits lift. This was the Peru I’d been dreaming of, all rocky mountain peaks rising over a lush, fertile valley below me, Incan ruins and friendly llamas and alpacas.
The Sacred Valley earned its name from its historically fertile land and prosperous crops. Over thousands of years, Peru’s ancient civilisations mastered agriculture in the harsh Andean mountains. They were truly ingenious engineers, and amongst hundreds of varieties of plants they domesticated corn, potatoes, quinoa and kiwicha.
Upon touchdown, I was joined by my fellow volunteer Sophie from Scotland, who has grown up with horses all her life. We were picked up by a driver who took us on a meandering scenic ride to Hacienda del Chalan, which would be our home for the next three weeks.
A volunteering opportunity sourced through Worldwide Vets, we had a chance to experience life on a local family ranch hosted by Yojan and his Dutch wife Karina. Their niece and nephew Hasse and R were here for the summer too. The two of us headed up to the volunteer room, situated with a balcony overlooking the horses and mountains.
SETTLING INTO THE HORSE RANCH LIFE
We’d been warned beforehand on the volunteer guide that Peru provides an ever-changing environment, power failures, water and fuel shortages, temperature fluctuations, and there is a need “to be flexible, understanding and good humoured.”
Even then, I wasn’t prepared to be immediately being thrust into situation where we would have no running water for the first three days, which affected the daily living activities.
Perhaps I’d already gotten too old for the backpacking life, or I was spoilt by my city creature comforts, but it took some time to adjust.
Things like keeping warm as there is no heater, figuring out how to feed myself all three meals with limited grocery supplies (my fellow volunteer S ended up surviving on biscuits and bananas and eating a single meal a day), how to light a gas stove with matchsticks, living in a state of less-than pristine cleanliness… Think mud and dirt and hay from the outside being tracked into the room because everyone wears their shoes in. And bathing from a bucket because the shower water is either freezing cold or boiling hot, so I fashion myself a scoop out of a makeshift plastic bottle. And because we’re situated at 3000m above sea level, every step taken feels like exertion.
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The ranch is home to some 20 horses, with the Peruvian paso horses used for trail rides and ponies for therapy for children with special needs. It also has a eager Bernese mountain dog Oso, tiny puppy Spot, along with many cats, rabbits, guinea pigs and ducks.
Here, the animals reign. Their needs come first, and humans second.
Our day typically starts at 6am with the morning feeding for all the animals on the ranch.
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My favourite task is to make my rounds at the backyard, trundling my wheelbarrow loaded with hay that’s been carefully portioned out and seeing the horses walk towards me eagerly. They surround me, all gentle nuzzles and calm energy. Then we rake the yard free of hay and poop before a short breakfast break.
Later in the morning, we would help to catch, groom, halter and tack up the horses to get them ready for the tourist rides. Yojan gives me a crash course on saddling. I heave the heavy saddle up onto a horse that’s way taller than me, and focus on getting the complicated knots right. Putting the reins in is tough too, I have to prise the horse’s mouth to get it to open. Also, I broke my record: riding eight hours into the mountains on horseback!
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The countryside life may look idyllic, but the reality on the ground is that ranch life work never ends. One night, after a long day of riding, we were resting in bed after our shower when Karina knocked on the door. The hay truck had arrived, and they needed help wheeling in 260 bales of hay. I was given the easy task of counting the bales, while my compatriots suffered and laboured, struggling with the wheelbarrows. Later that night Sophie told me that at her family’s farm, they use tractors!
To be honest, it can get frustrating sometimes as a newbie, to be so slow on the uptake and to feel behind everyone else. But my horse gal pals back home have been telling me to be gentle with myself. After countless rants to them and my family, I slowly settled into the rhythm of things.
At the end of the first week, Sophie had gone off on a three-day ride into the mountains which I opted out of. The water finally came back on. I spent my weekend finishing up my Japan article, cooking a huge batch of fried rice, watching Brooklyn 99, laundry - all the domestic things that made me feel like my life was in order again. I took Bandera the pregnant pony out for a walk with Hasse, which was really nice.
As we watched the horses graze, Hasse, a staunch Christian, shared with me about what it means to live for God and how that lens guides her in everything that she does. Doing everything with love, caring for the animals that have been carefully created, and what it means to let go of one’s worries because everything will be taken care of. I admired her unshakable faith.
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SEEING PERU BY HORSE
As part of our volunteer stint, our job was to ride the horses so they could get the adequate exercise and get warmed up to tourists.
We were told that the Peruvian paso is known as the smoothest ride in the world, and we’d get a chance to experience the raw majesty and ancient culture of Peru from the saddle of an experienced horse. Over the few weeks, we traversed scenery that few tourists would get to see: from rolling farmland, towering mountain passes and green valleys, archeology complexes and ancient Incan ruins, bubbling rivers, sandy tracks and wooden bridges.
The two hour horse ride was an easy one, a gentle walk along the banks of the Urubamba river past natural rock formations, and cows and sheep grazing peacefully. As we rode through the quaint town, the friendly locals greeted us with a “Buenos Dias” at every turn.
On longer rides, we got to explore more hidden gems of the Sacred Valley.
On my first full day horse back ride, we rode high up into the mountains on narrow paths to the Maras Salt Flats, where people still mine salt from the ground.
After lunch at a local restaurant, we passed the circular crop terraces of Moray Circles, believed to be an agricultural lab for the Incas where they experimented with different microclimates and soil for different crops on these terraces.
I was at the back on Indio, who tended to slowly plod behind the group. Once he realised he was too far behind the group, he’d start to panic and race forward at full speed. It was cute at first, but then it started to get really tiring and painful, which I endured over the next eight hours.
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By late afternoon, we ended up at a sweeping vista, vast expanses of lands that stretched on for miles and miles, but it was too cold and blustery for me to truly enjoy the ride, sadly.
My favourite ride of the stint was the hummingbird day with the entire ranch family. Again, it was another full day ride, but somehow everything felt balanced and smooth. The rainy weather cleared up, everyone seemed in high spirits.
I was riding darling Chico, who was chill and calm, and most importantly had great pacing. Sophie was on her favourite Principe (or ‘Prince’), a strong-willed horse with a mind of his own.
The journey saw us venturing high up into the mountains, through dramatic river crossings and a break at the hummingbird sanctuary observing the hummingbirds flitting about in their natural habitats.
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TOWN EXPLORATIONS
There is nothing so far disparate from my city life than waiting for a colectivo (local bus) on the side of a mountain road.
My first time, I’m a ball of nerves, as numerous colectivos blaze past without stopping. Once I flag it down, I find myself in riding with the locals, jaunty music at full blast. To stop, I shout, ‘Baho’ and pass the driver two soles. Over the next month, I’ll find myself enthralled by the singsong way they chant the bus names.
I have my first good hot meal at Kampu in Urubamba town, thanks to a recommendation by some Singaporean friends. Chef Eduardo greets me, his head a tousled mop and piercing eyes. Time spent early on in the States has instilled a command of colloquial American and the spirit of rock and roll, with his cooking inspiration being the late Tony Bourdain. The walls’ palette consist of rich earth tone colous and splashes of vibrant oranges, yellows, purples and blues with a prominent rendering of Vinayaki, the elephant-headed Hindu goddess.
I’m up for a first-rate culinary mystery tour, trusting in Eduardo’s curation of a menu for me. He describes all the ingredients and global influences that are in store for the dishes. These flavours conjure up memories of his youth spent in the kitchens of Morocco, Algeria, New Orleans, and in Vietnam, Thailand and India.
I’m in for a treat, Peruvian dishes with Asian influences: crispy fried eggplant with local honey, warm ceviche on a hot stone comprising warm prawns sweet potato in orange glaze and onion. For the main dish, it’s a hearty beef tenderloin miso curry and pine mushroom with rice.
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I savour the entire meal, taking small sips of a strong pisco sour and bobbing my head to the soundtrack of feel-good tunes like Billy Joel’s ‘My life’ and Bob Marley’s ‘Natural Mystic.’
I leave the restaurant with a real chef’s kiss: he grabs me to plant a number on my forehead. Only five fortunate lunch-going parties are lucky to grab a seat at his restaurant, so make reservations.
Still buzzed by the pisco sour, I wander around Urubamba in a daze, only stopping to take a break to chill on a park bench in the main Plaza de Armas along with the rest of the elder locals. The shade of tall pisonay and palm trees offer relief from the strong Andean sun and a beautiful mountain skyline peeks over the surrounding buildings. My head is a blank slate, and the time spent staring into space feels blissfully free and unencumbered from worries.
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On one of the days, we pop over to Pisac town, known for its colourful souvenir markets. It’s surprisingly compact and is known for having a new age hippie vibe. Think flyers pinned to the noticeboards promoting yoga classes, vegan restaurants, shaman shops, cacao ceremonies and ayahuasca retreats. A popular haunt is Sacred Sushi and Curry Sunday restaurant.
Later, we take the colectivo to the nearby Cochawasi Animal Reserve for a glimpse of rescued animals, like massive endangered condors, prowling pumas and a toucan with a broken beak that’s been rescued from a nightclub.
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But the most popular town frequented by tourists would be Ollantaytambo, as the trains depart to Machu Picchu from here. It exudes a charming small-town feel, full of labyrinthe streets ripe for exploration. I paid a visit to the Ollantaytambo ruins, a testament to the architectural prowess, vision and ingenuity of the ancient Incan empire.
"To understand the Inca society, you have to use your imagination,” says our guide. As we explored this enigmatic site, that became apparent — from the intricate stonework that was cut perfectly and sealed with cactus juice, Andean grass and llama fat, impressive hydraulic channels for farming quinoa and corn, chambers (called colcas) carved into the hillside with aromatic herbs to keep food dry and cool and to distribute it evenly among the population, agricultural terraces that looked like they were carved into steps for giants.
But the most jaw-dropping feats is their “archi-astronomy”, precise astronomical alignments to ensure everything is built in accordance to the sun.
As the children of the sun, we’re told that the Incas planned the town in such a way that resembles a corn shape from aerial view (and other towns have similar fascinating shapes too), that the place was designed so precisely that the light from the sun would pass through the Sun door, that the emperor would communicate to other towns by shining a gold mirror that would catch the light and project it to them.
"Everything here is imbued with spirituality, and the mountains are full of treasure,” our guide adds.
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On one of the days, I spent it chilling at gorgeous L’Ente cafe, an atmospheric space of dim lighting, wood and handcrafted ceramics. The place was staffed by Andre from Lima who moved here to be more in touch with the coffee culture and getting to know the growers.
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My coffee was sourced from a plantation in Vilcabamba, a full bodied brew with a hint of tanginess and delicate chocolatey notes, and I topped off with Peru yogurt cake that resembles a cheesecake.
EXPERIENCING THE LOCAL LIFE
Having requested for the chance to experience a pachamanca ( traditional Peruvian dish baked with the aid of hot stones), our host family takes us for a visit to a highland Andean community to celebrate their godson’s 12th birthday.
It was humbling to catch a glimpse into the way they lived. The lady stayed at home, while the husband worked as a chef on the Inca trail.
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The earth infused the food with a smoky flavour, and we dug into a simple meal of chicken, potatoes, beans and corn, followed by tea and birthday cake (a rarity for the kids here). To support the family, I bought a beautiful handwoven scarf.
One morning, we spent it water rafting down some Class 3 rapids down the Urubamba river, an adrenaline packed ride!
I also took off on a mini adventure on my own where I learnt about textile dyeing and weaving with alpaca fabric, which I wrote about here.
Later that afternoon, we joined some newfound tourist friends for some local Sunday entertainment to watch bullfighting, a national tradition in Peru.
People started trickling all over a few hours to the field before the main event. The men led their prized bull in to get assessed and inspected, not unlike how people would parade around their prized cars in a car derby. Others settled into prime spots to watch.
A lady came around selling corn-based snacks.
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One hour into waiting, the crowd started to get restless. A man shouted impatiently in Spanish, “Come on, we haven’t got all day! Are you going to get started tomorrow?” The crowd around him tittered.
And finally the bullfighting began.
After all the waiting, it felt somewhat anti-climatic.
The bulls locked their horns in a fierce duel, grunting and heaving, kicking up clouds of dust in the air while the dogs trail along their heels as ragtag teams. In less than 20 seconds it was over, and the next two bulls repeated the same ritual. We watched till the sun started to set.
VISITING MAJESTIC MACHU PICCHU
On my second last weekend at the ranch, I took a day trip down to Machu Picchu, every traveler’s bucket list destination.
The remote geography of the Andes and monopoly of the train system means that Aguas Calientes - the gateway town to majestic Machu Picchu — is only accessible by train or on foot. I set bright and early and boarded the PeruRail train from Ollyantambo Station with the other tourist hordes.
The vintage train, the gilded furnishings that smacked of old world glamour, the smartly dressed staff — the whole experience had me momentarily transported in time, the undeniable romance of rail travel.
The panoramic windows transformed the train into a moving observatory that had me feeling like I was trundling through Jurassic World, for some reason. We passed by the tiny figures of hikers just beginning their ascent on the Inca trail. I felt a tiny mounting excitement rush up within me the deeper we headed into the mountains, their hulking green ridges that greeted me like old friends, while the river raged below in the dramatic gorge.
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Upon my arrival at Aguas Calientes, I was bundled along with the rest of the tourists and shepherded to a long line of waiting buses, which would take us up a winding journey up to the Machu Picchu sanctuary.
I was lucky that day, having been blessed with fantastic weather and a surprisingly low number of tourists, thanks to the Peruvian government’s restrictions. In my previous visits to the Louvre and the Vatican, the experience had felt so unpleasant because of the crowds. But here there was so much space to roam, wander about and take in this amazing lost city set high amid this cloud forest. The sky felt so close, endless and clear. Meanwhile, the llamas (natural grass-cutters) wandered as they pleased.
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Hidden to the Western world, it was brought to attention by a American adventurer Hiram Bingham, the inspiration for Indiana Jones. For any visitor, I’d highly recommend ‘Turn Right at Machu Picchu’ by Mark Adams, a delightfully entertaining and educational travelogue about swashbuckling explorers, stolen treasures and lost cities.
Sadly, my tour guide expounded on the site’s contemporary history instead of the meaningful history. He regaled us with scandalous tidbits and tales — of botched marriage proposals, selfie toting tourists who had fallen to their death, a tourist who had tried to cheat the system and hike on his own and ended up bitten by vipers, tourists who had got lost in the catacomb and how night tours used to be organised here but the tourists were too busy having sex or doing drugs, and a president who wanted to land his helicopter and ordered for a sacred stone to be removed at this site where naked hippies would go dancing.
I had some time to kill in the afternoon before my evening train, so I spent it exploring Aguas Calientes. Cynics might say the town is overtouristy, but I fell in love with the fairytale-like setting. This town tucked away deep into the mountains like a secret storybook place waiting to discovered, and the ribbon of a river cutting through the centre.
I became obsessed with photographing the train’s arrival from a high vantage point. For nearly two hours, I camped out at the bridge, checked the train schedule to predict when the next train would come in and even pestered the train guard for an estimate of a timing.
Finally, my patience was rewarded! Another fun souvenir is to get your passport stamped with the iconic Machu Picchu stamp.
PARTYING ALONG WITH THE LOCALS
In Ollantaytambo, we found ourselves thrust into a massive street party.
This was the Festival of the Señor de Choquekillca, held in honor of the Señor de Choquekillka, a traditional Andean deity who is believed to be a protector of agriculture and the harvest.
In Peru and across the Andes, fiestas are raucous and overwhelming with round-the-clock drinking, feasting and dancing, it is also a homecoming, a family reunion, a rite of passage and a chance for people to give thanks to each other for another year in this harsh yet beautiful place.
We squeezed for a front row seat to catch the dance troupes and musicians, each dance paying tribute to a special aspect of Peru.
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A whirl of twirling skirts, lively music, fallen sandals, wandering stray dogs, street food… we got caught up in the infectious revelry.
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LAST WEEK AT RANCH
One of my most fulfilling moments was getting to help out at the ranch’s equine therapy sessions.
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It was such a joy to witness the kids’ faces light up, and their glee in seeing them gingerly groom the pony and ride it around the stables.
Sadly, my final ride was the toughest and least favourite, another 8-hour journey to the Mantanay conservation area. I was on Plabiayo (which means ‘countryside’ in Spanish), who was extremely slow. It didn’t help that that the route was uphill and downhill all the way, which put a real strain on the horses.
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I half-heartedly made the climb up to the alpine lake and was more entertained by a band of bandit-like alpacas along the way which reminded me of the We Bare Bears trio.
Some other last minute tasks: showering the horses and almost getting roped in to do the hay again (thank goodness the local men stepped in!)
BEAUTIFUL CUSCO
After spending a month in the countryside, returning back to the city (and even a basic hot shower and a clean room) gave us a giddy thrill.
I had never expected Cusco city to be so beautiful.
Didn’t expect to embark on a mad buying spree, and had so much fun popping into the numerous boutique stores in San Blas district. Sophie even got a spontaneous tattoo at the ultra-hipster tattoo parlour. The town square was truly atmospheric at night too.
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Personally, Rainbow Mountain was one of my least favourite sites, simply because of the swarms of tourists and high altitudes that had me grumpy the entire time. I ended up giving up nearly mid-way on the trek and switched over to horse!
Being the Asian that I am, I had a desperate craving for Asian food. And that’s how I landed up at Sa Rang Che - a family-run Korean restaurant, digging into a hearty bowl of kimchi bulgogi and side dishes where every bite felt like heaven.
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Getting lost is one of my favourite things to do while traveling. Just guided by my intuition, I slowly meandered my way up winding alleyways till I finally stumbled upon a square with a great panoramic viewpoint across Cusco, I must have sat there for two horus, nearly dozing off while listening to a podcast about overtourism and later doing the ultimate tourist thing to take a photo of the local ladies with their adorable alpacas, with a fee of course!
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I also made myself at home at Florencia y Fortuna, a social enterprise that promotes the visibility of women in specialty coffee.
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A STAY AT LAKE TITICACA
“Wow, from peasant life to the luxurious life… I could get used to this,” I thought, as I stepped into the PeruRail Titicaca train from Cusco’s Wanchaq station.
The train would take me to Puno on the shores of Lake Titicaca, the world’s highest navigable lake.
This 10-hour journey has a reputation for being one of the world’s most beautiful train journeys, and I wasn’t disappointed in that aspect. The train's ambience exudes elegance and comfort, featuring spacious armchairs, tables adorned with white tablecloths, and dark-brown panelled wood reminiscent of the 'Pullman Style' decor from the 1920s.
As the train ascends, it meanders at a leisurely pace through rolling mountains and valleys, unveiling breathtaking vistas of the Huatanay River valleys, traditional Andean villages, and charming scenes featuring herds of grazing llama and alpaca. I took in the views from the comfort of my seat or the observation coach aboard at the back
The hours seemed to fly by. I was treated to a gourmet lunch, highlighting fresh, local Andean ingredients, a live band and dancing, fashion show.
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A notable stop on the route is La Raya market, situated at the highest point of the journey at 4,300 meters above sea level.
Despite being a solo traveller, I never once felt lonely. I guess being the rare young Asian traveller, people naturally struck up conversations with me at the observation deck, with one fellow Filipino traveler who insisted on giving me some snacks.
I had booked a two day cultural tour through All Ways Travel Titicaca Peru, which prides itself for organising ethical travel tours.
My tour guide was Maycol, a young man with a passion to protect his heritage.
The first stop was to the iconic Uros floating islands, which are home to the indigenous Uros people, are created by stacking layers upon layers of totora roots and reeds.
Once primarily a fishing community, tourism is now their main economic driver. Most of the young people have left for the mainland to pursue educational and economic opportunities, leaving behind the children and elderly
Upon our arrival, the island chief Freddy and the local women explained the traditional methods of building the islands. To maintain the islands’ buoyancy, they add fresh layers of totora every 20 days. Sometimes, during windy season, islanders might find themselves waking up in an entirely place!
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Totora can be used as natural remedies too. The women passed around some totora flowers which we pressed to our head, a cooling salve against fevers.
We also opted for a ride via totora reed boat, a traditional mode of transport and “romantic taxi” to facilitate courtship among couples. Sadly, the Uros people also increasingly prefer motor boats.
Perhaps the most unique aspect of Uros life is their conflict resolution strategy. If disagreements arise, residents can literally cut off a section of their island and float away to form a new one.
From Uros, it’s another two-hour boat ride to Amantani, which is a little off-the-beaten track but offer a more authentic cultural homestay experience. This is where we’ll stay for one night.
The 3,800 inhabitants of Amantani Island are of Quechua origin and they are mainly small farmers. The most important crops on Amantani Island are Andean potatoes, barley and green beans. Tourism is still fairly new to them, which is why they may not be as successful in their entrepreneurial tourism initiatives as their neighbours from Taquile Island, for example.
To ensure fair distribution of benefits, there is a rotation system where each family hosts tourists. Here, the houses are simple and services basic, and there is no running water either. Yet you can tell there’s a clear sense of pride in how they maintain their homes. I’m hosted by Wilbur and Rosa.
One of the first things we learn is that they carry around coca leaves everywhere which they chew on as they work. The right way is to accept it is with a hat, not with our hands.
As Lake Titicaca was the birthplace of potatoes (which I explore in a separate story), Amantani Island naturally has some 15 to 20 kinds of potatoes. It’s a staple, so much so that “when we pray for God to give us daily bread…the farmers will say give us our daily potatoes,” explains Maycol.
For lunch, we experience a ritual that involves cooking the potatoes in an earth oven of volcanic stones, known as a huatia.
Because of lower rainfall in the last few years, it has affected the lake’s water levels and also the crop harvest, Maycol tells us as we make a slow ascent up to the Amantani island’s peak, passing by stone towers which are the island’s keepers. The locals give coca leaves to the lake as an offering, and also sing and dance at the temple every January to pray for a good harvest.
“The mountain and lakes are like gods to us… It’s very important to pass down our traditions, and not to forget the Andean gods,” Maycol tells us gravely.
For dinner, we donned traditional garb for a lively dance around the fire which left us all exhilarated and breathless.
The next morning, we helped Mama Rosa prepare quinoa pancakes, before saying our goodbyes.
Taquile island was our final stop on Lake Titicaca. This where you’ll find the best knitters and weavers in South America.
In the tiny Peruvian island of Taquile, a man's worth isn't measured in his ability to hunt or fish, but in his ability to knit. The women will select their male partners based on the male's mastery in knitting a an intricate chullo with wire-thin needles. The single man’s chullo looks a little sad in comparison to the elaborate chullos of the married men!
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Instead of rings, the Taquile people join their weaved and knitted belts together.
On clear days, you’ll catch views that stretch all the way to Bolivia.
LAST LEG IN LIMA
Returning back to Lima, I found myself weak and sickly after coming down with a dose of food poisoning. Spent the last few days resting in my rented apartment in Miraflores and exploring Larcomar, a cliff side shopping mall perched over the Pacific Ocean.
Now that I’m back home, it feels surreal that I was actually in South America two months back. More importantly, I’m proud of myself for having navigated Peru on my own, learning to enjoy my own company. To know that I’m braver that I give myself credit for, that I’m a pretty easygoing traveller who enjoys a mix of spontaneous wandering and structure, who treasures chill days staying in and also exploring too. I’m still working on being more assertive of my needs, asking for things, taking initiative, bringing up difficult conversations…
All in all, I’m glad to have taken a nice break for myself. It’s not the last I’ll see of the continent, I hope!