I was just on my honeymoon on Peru, and I now have three weeks of feelings about the place, which are accurate, poignant, and worthy of your immediate attention. Here are those feelings, which pertain only to Cusco, the Sacred Valley, and a slice of Lima.
Dogs
The canine situation in the Urubamba Valley is extremely good. Everywhere you go, there are dogs on the street, roaming in packs, napping, or just contemplating the horizon. They are never aggressive. They don’t give any sign of caring about you. And what’s most astonishing is that these are, by American standards, highly desirable dogs. We’re talking about Poodle mixes, Golden Retrievers, and other high-end varieties. I don’t know how things got so confusingly good. If I lived in the region, I would probably adopt a local dog with the simple repeated application of raw meat.
Trauma
The whole country seems to be suffering from COVID-19 trauma. The application of hand sanitizer here is wild, and it has absolutely nothing to do with the practical prevention of disease. For example, in the apartment where I stayed in Lima, the doorman takes your temperature, and then sprays your hand liberally with a sanitizer, despite the fact that you haven’t touched anything. During my stay, I’ve had my luggage and loose change sprayed many times. Additionally, the mask mandate calls for double masking indoors, and a single mask anywhere outdoors.
It’s depressing to be in a new city, by the beachfront, and watch solitary men wearing masks fifty feet away from anyone else, gazing into the waves with hidden but probably fretful expressions.
Lima
My impressions so far are not great. Locations in this city are great: I particularly enjoyed Ayahuasca, a bar in a sprawling colonial mansion, and the restaurants have been pleasant to inhabit. However, the feeling on the street is hushed, protective, unfriendly. The architecture isn’t especially attractive, in general. The streets are just wide enough to feel depersonalizing, and the sidewalks are just narrow enough to provoke vigilance. Perhaps some of the gloom has to do with the aforementioned COVID-19 trauma.
I think if I had a social scene here, and I stuck to my favorite places with these as-yet imaginary friends, I could work up a lot of enjoyment. But right now I’m not having a great time. The food is excellent, though.
Food
This is clearly a country that cares about food. It’s been hard to avoid a good meal. Of the twentyish I’ve eaten, only two have been less than delicious, and they were both at highly acclaimed restaurants enjoyed by tourists, probably now coasting off their reputation. Generally it’s meat and potatoes but executed with a kind of care that makes me feel understood. In Lima, the ceviche is as excellent as everyone says, and I had an unacceptably good pizza here yesterday, at a place called Pan Sal Aire. Was it the best pizza I’ve ever tasted? Yes, probably. It made all the Neapolitan pizza I’ve previously experienced seem like a sad joke.
English
Almost nobody that I interact with speaks fluent English in Lima, which surprised me, although maybe it shouldn’t have. When it’s clear that I’m an English-speaker, displeasure permeates the room. Unlike in, say, Bangkok, directing me nonverbally doesn’t seem like a quirky task that people enjoy doing. Instead, I am regarded as a menace and a nuisance, and, often, what happens is that my interlocutors keep speaking Spanish at me, assuming that cached phrases will accomplish the desired result. I’m sympathetic to all of this. Why should I be accommodated? Cusco, being more tourist-oriented, was more bilingual.
Valley
The Sacred Valley is eerily pleasant. If I were looking to move to the middle of nowhere, that would be the nowhere. Specifically, Urubamba city has a feeling that I’ve only experienced in Chiang Mai, which is paranoia about how nice the place is. You start wondering where the catch is, or whether there’s a secret element plotting your demise. You’re on a perfectly flat plain in perfect weather surrounded by perfect mountains. Walking through farms north of Ollantaytambo was one of the top three walks of my life. And people generally seem happy in the Valley, even (and especially) those who have no obligation to talk to tourists.
Skylodge
You can climb up a mountain and sleep in a pod at the top. Highly recommended.
Cusco
It’s, like, fine? The built environment is beautiful, but even in this tourist-deprived time, the mercantilism is a little depressing. Everywhere you go, stuff is shoved in your face. I didn’t expect, in my life, to ever get annoyed by constant offerings of ayahuasca retreats, but that’s what happened. So it’s hard to space out and enjoy the architecture. At times, it felt like we were back in Prague, if Prague were intimidatingly hilly.
This was my first experience with high altitudes, and I’ve got to say that the air up there is bullshit. There’s no air in it! For two days I felt totally stoned, incapable of complete thoughts. That might sound like it lent a mystery to the experience. I almost tricked myself into thinking this. But it was just annoying, in truth.
Macchu Picchu
You’ve got to go early in the mornings. Otherwise, it’ll be hard to work up the imagination required to take things in. This was once a place for the powerful. They consulted the astrologers, who looked upon a bountiful sky through reflecting pools. Upon this mountain, it was decided, based on recent luck, whether virgins should be sent to distant caves where they were buried alive after being placed in an alcoholic stupor. There was drinking, dancing, and presumably insane sexual practices, among the finest stonework I’ve ever laid eyes on, which, even though it lacks mortar, remains fixed in place a half-century after its creation. If you can keep this all in mind while you wander the grounds, the experience is breathtaking. If you’re too distracted by other tourists, that will be difficult to achieve. To get there early, you’ll have to book a private bus, or stay overnight at the Belmond Sanctuary, a luxury hotel on the grounds, the only settlement near the site. Both are worth it if you have the means.
Safety
Lima doesn’t feel all that safe. Unofficial taxis try to offer you a special deal if you’re walking the street at night, and you wonder whether you’re being kidnapped. Young toughs give you looks that say I can fuck you up. But Cusco felt like the second-safest place in the world, next to the Sacred Valley, where the only hazard was falling in love with the place and staying permanently. I mean, look at this cool salt mine:
> a half-century after its creation
a half millennium!
Glad it was a good trip!
Thank you for insights and reactions I feel I can trust. You have special radar/sonar for travel.