November 2004: Few places pack as much adventure as Peru, with its Incan and Amazonian indigenous cultures, ancient ruins, soaring 20,000-foot peaks, dense rainforests, and vast stretches of desolate coastline. This rich diversity is what made Peru one of my first South American destinations.
To experience as much of Peru’s varied landscapes as possible, I planned a two-week journey that covered the Andes, the Amazon, and the Pacific coast. My friend Sterling and I flew into Lima, the capital, for one night before continuing to Cuzco. From there, we traveled overland into the Amazon, venturing deep into the protected rainforest of Manu National Park.
After Manu, we returned to Cuzco and set off for Lake Titicaca, where we stayed with an indigenous family on La Isla del Sol. Next, we embarked on a trek into the High Andes, visiting remote Quechua villages before setting out on a multi-day hike along the Inca Trail, culminating in our arrival at Machu Picchu.
We wrapped up our Peruvian adventure by heading to the desert coastline south of Lima, where we surfed the legendary Pico Alto break—a fitting end to an unforgettable journey.
This is the story of my trip to Peru—a mix of independent travel and local fixers, allowing us to experience the country’s raw beauty and cultural depth firsthand.
Locations I visited in Peru
Two-Week Peru Itinerary
Day 1: Arrival in Lima
- Arrive in Lima
- Explore Lima’s nightclub district
- Overnight in Lima
Day 2: Journey to the Amazon
- Morning flight from Lima to Cuzco
- Bus through the Andean mountains of Paucartambo
- Visit the funeral towers (chullpas) of Ninamarca
- Descend through the cloud forest
- Overnight in Pilcopata village guesthouse
Day 3: Entering the Amazon
- Bus to Atalaya Port
- Boat down the Alto Madre de Dios River
- Visit the Indigenous village of Boca Manu
- Stop at the Macaw Clay Lick
- Jungle hiking
- Overnight at an eco-lodge in the rainforest
Day 4: Manu National Park Exploration
- Enter the core area of Manu National Park
- Boat down the Manu River, spotting caimans, capybaras, giant otters, and monkeys
- Camp on raised platforms at Otorongo Camp
- Rafting on oxbow lakes in search of caimans and giant otters
- Night walk looking for bird-eating tarantulas
Day 5: Deeper into Manu National Park
- Further exploration of Manu National Park
- Overnight at Otorongo Camp
Day 6: Depart Manu – Travel to Lake Titicaca
- Boat upriver out of Manu National Park
- Visit Boca Manu village and raft on a lake
- Visit a local Indigenous village and school
- Afternoon flight from Boca Manu to Cuzco
- Bus from Cuzco to Puno (5 hours)
- Late-night arrival in Puno guesthouse
Day 7: Lake Titicaca – La Isla del Sol Homestay
- Boat to La Isla del Sol, Lake Titicaca
- Overnight stay with an Indigenous family
Day 8: Return to Puno
- Depart La Isla del Sol by boat
- Return to Puno via bus
- Overnight in Puno guesthouse
Day 9: Return to Cuzco
- Bus from Puno to Cuzco
- Explore Cuzco
- Overnight in Cuzco guesthouse
Day 10: Lares Valley Trek Begins
- Drive through the Sacred Valley to Lares Village
- Begin trek in Lares Valley
- Camp in Kuncany village
Day 11: High-Altitude Trekking
- Trek from Kuncany to Kiswarany over a 16,000-foot pass
- Camp in Kiswarany village
Day 12: Final Day of Lares Trek
- Trek from Kiswarany to Qanchqancha, crossing the Condor Pass
- Arrive at Waran village
- Relax in natural hot springs
- Bus transfer back to Cuzco
- Overnight in Cuzco guesthouse
Day 13: Exploring Cuzco
- Visit Cuzco’s churches and historic old town
- Overnight in Cuzco
Day 14: Start of the Inca Trail
- Train from Cuzco to the Inca Trail
- Begin Inca Trail trek
- Visit Ullurumbu ruins
- Arrive at Machu Picchu
- Overnight in Aguas Calientes
Day 15: Machu Picchu & Return to Cuzco
- Explore Machu Picchu
- Train back to Cuzco
- Overnight in Cuzco
Day 16: Surfing Peru’s Desert Coastline
- Morning flight from Cuzco to Lima
- Taxi to Pico Alto surf break
- Surf session at Pico Alto
- Overnight in guesthouse at Pico Alto
Day 17: Departure
- Taxi back to Lima
- Flight home to San Diego
Manu National Park
I was thrilled to visit Manu National Park, a vast expanse of protected primary rainforest so immense and untamed that large portions remain uncharted. It is home to uncontacted Indigenous tribes, including the Mashco-Piro, who have deliberately remained isolated and have had violent clashes with the outside world. In one instance, a group of tourists unexpectedly encountered the Mashco-Piro and were greeted with a volley of arrows, a stark reminder of the region’s wild and unpredictable nature.
Manu encompasses both Andean and lowland rainforest, making it one of the most ecologically diverse places on Earth. It offers some of the best opportunities to spot rare wildlife, including primates, giant river otters, massive caimans, anacondas, and even elusive jaguars.
To reach Manu, we first flew into Cuzco, the ancient Incan capital nestled in the Andes. From there, our journey took us two days overland, crossing high-altitude mountain passes before descending into the cloud forests of the Andean foothills. Finally, we arrived at a remote Amazonian river, where we boarded a boat and ventured deep into the roadless jungles of Manu, leaving civilization behind and immersing ourselves in one of the wildest places on the planet.
Ancient Andean Burial Tombs-funeral towers or chullpas of Ninamarca
Quechua Indians in a Incan Village with colorful traditional dresses
Quechua Indians in an Incan Village walking a horse on a rope
An Amazonia village of Pilcopatawe where we stayed at before heading off to Manu on a boat
Sterling and I checking in at the Manu Park Ranger Station
Entering Manu via river boat
As we traveled along the river, oxbow lakes, and treetops of Manu, we encountered countless species of primates, each more fascinating than the last. We watched as giant river otters fiercely defended their territory, fighting off massive black caimans, a rare and thrilling sight. Capybaras lounged along the riverbanks, while an endless array of other wildlife revealed itself at every turn.
To be fully immersed in such a vast and untamed wilderness—one of the most biodiverse places on Earth—was an experience that was nothing short of awe-inspiring.
12’Black Caiman
Capybera
We camped in tents at a primitive campsite, completely at the mercy of the jungle and its relentless insects. The bathroom hut, which housed a toilet and a makeshift shower, was nothing short of a house of horrors—a place where you had to shower quickly, all while keeping a watchful eye on deadly centipedes and bird-eating tarantulas lurking in the corners.
Despite the discomforts, sleeping in the jungle was an experience I loved. As soon as darkness set in, the forest erupted into an overwhelming symphony—trillions of insects and nocturnal creatures all competing to be heard, their calls overlapping in a chaotic yet mesmerizing soundscape.
Then there were the larger creatures—like the peccaries that wandered dangerously close to our tents. Their snorting and grunting made them sound like a gaggle of drunken goblins, stumbling through the undergrowth. And where there are peccaries, there are jaguars. Sure enough, we discovered fresh jaguar tracks in the mud nearby, a thrilling reminder that we were sleeping in a predator’s domain.
Otorongo camp site-Our campsites for a few nights
Scarlet Macaws at a clay lick
Giant river otters in an oxbow lake swimming side by side with huge caiman crocodiles. A river otter is resting on the branch to the right of the submerged tree
View of the dark river from our campsite. We were advised against swimming. Seeing the 12′ menacing Caiman earlier in the day was reason enough to convince me.
My favorite activity in the jungle was hiking at night without a flashlight, guided only by the light of the full moon. The forest canopy was dense, blocking out most of the moonlight, but just enough filtered through to allow my eyes to adjust, revealing the faint outline of the jungle path ahead.
Adding to the magic were the lightning bugs, flickering in different colors like Christmas lights strung across the rainforest. Their soft glow illuminated the undergrowth, creating an otherworldly atmosphere.
Walking beneath towering trees, surrounded by glimmering fireflies, felt like stepping into a dreamlike realm—one of those rare travel moments where reality fades, and you feel completely suspended in time.
Massive bird eating tarntula named after the birds it hunts. There were two of these massive spiders on the exterior wall of the bathroom and they were very aggresive. One launched itself at my camera trying to attack it as I took this photo.
A forest like this is almost guaranteed to be home to countless venomous snakes, yet despite my efforts to spot one, they remained elusive, preferring to keep to themselves.
What truly astonished me, however, was the sheer size of the trees in Manu. These ancient giants, untouched by logging, had been growing undisturbed for hundreds of years. Their towering trunks and massive canopies created a cathedral-like presence, a powerful reminder of how wild and pristine this rainforest remains.
Me in front of the enormous trees of Manu that have never been logged
Sterling and I at our campsite in Manu
Once we left Manu, we visited outlying Indigenous villages, where many tribal communities still live semi-traditional lifestyles. Hunting remains an essential part of their way of life, and we saw firsthand how they often raise the orphaned offspring of the animals they hunt.
One striking example was a young anteater, being raised by a family after they had hunted its parents for food. It was a fascinating yet sobering glimpse into the delicate balance between survival, tradition, and the natural world in these remote communities.
Anteater pet in an indigenious village-Boca Manu
To avoid the grueling two-day drive back to Cuzco, we opted to pay extra for a military plane to fly us there in just a couple of hours.
The plane landed in a grassy field, where Indigenous children played soccer, seemingly unbothered by the approaching aircraft. As soon as it touched down, we quickly loaded up, eager for a scenic flight over the endless rainforest and towering Andes.
The journey itself was spectacular, but the landing in Cuzco was one of the roughest I’ve ever experienced in all my travels. As we approached the runway, the plane seemed to stall about ten feet above the ground, before slamming down with a powerful, crashing thud—a jarring end to an otherwise breathtaking flight.
Military plane picking us up in an indigenious village-Boca Manu
Flight to Cuzco over the Amazon rainforest
A younger me on the flight over the Amazon
Lake Titicaca
With no time to spare, as soon as we landed in Cuzco, we rushed to catch a bus to Puno—a packed chicken bus overflowing with Quechua locals, screaming babies, and bags of market goods. To make matters worse, a thunderstorm raged outside, forcing us to keep the windows shut, turning the cramped bus into a steamy, suffocating sauna for the entire ride.
After enduring the hellish journey, we finally arrived in Puno, a city perched on the banks of Lake Titicaca—the highest navigable freshwater lake in the world. We found a cheap hotel for the night, exhausted but excited for the next leg of our journey.
The following morning, we boarded a public ferry operated by a 12-year-old boy, which would take us to La Isla del Sol, with a stopover at the floating Uros Islands.
The Uros Islands: Tradition Meets Tourism
The Uros Islands are manmade floating islands constructed from reed bundles, originally built by the Uros people to escape their Incan enemies. While many Uros families still live on the islands, tourism has transformed their way of life.
Visiting the islands felt highly commercialized—locals had begun building reed structures in the shape of dragons and other elaborate designs, purely for tourist photo opportunities. While still fascinating, the experience lacked the authenticity we were hoping for.
Homestay on La Isla del Sol
After leaving the Uros Islands, we continued to La Isla del Sol, where we arranged to stay with a local Aymara Indigenous family in their traditional reed-walled home. Instead of choosing the more touristy areas, I selected an off-the-beaten-path part of the island, visited only by a handful of intrepid backpackers.
Unlike heavily touristed places, La Isla del Sol had no hotels—homestays were the only option, which was exactly what I was looking for. I’ve always loved homestays, as they not only support local families but also provide an opportunity to build relationships and experience everyday life in a way no hotel ever could.
The Aymara community had a fair system to rotate homestays, ensuring that every family had an opportunity to earn income, preventing over-commercialization. The family we stayed with was warm and welcoming, cooking simple but delicious meals for us. We spent time playing with their children, sharing snacks, and exchanging stories.
One of the highlights of our stay was borrowing traditional Aymara clothing and joining them at a local dance hall, where we danced to the enchanting sounds of pan flute music. It was a beautiful, authentic experience, one of those rare travel moments that felt truly immersive and unforgettable.
lake Titicaca
Floating reed Uros island
Floating reed island-Uros Islands
Church Service on a Floating reed island-Uros Islands
At an Incan temple at the highest point of La Isla Del Sol
Local dress of indigenious ladies-Aymara Indians
Our homestay
We loved our time on the island, but the highlight was undoubtedly our night at the local dance hall, where we joined the Aymara community in dancing to the rhythmic sounds of pan flutes and drums.
Wanting to blend in, Sterling and I borrowed traditional men’s clothing, which helped us feel more immersed in the experience. But nothing could have prepared me for my dance partner—a squat, elderly Aymara woman who, despite being half my size, completely dominated me on the dance floor.
From the moment we started, it was clear she was in charge. Determined to teach me the proper dance steps, she led with unyielding enthusiasm, and I quickly realized that I wasn’t getting out of this anytime soon. Song after song, I kept dancing—not so much out of eagerness, but because I was too afraid to attempt an escape.
By the end of the night, my feet were sore, my pride slightly bruised, but I wouldn’t have had it any other way. It was a hilarious and unforgettable experience, one of those moments where cultural immersion turns into pure, unexpected joy.
Sterling and I wearing traditional mens clothes at the local dance
Lares Valley Trek
From Lake Titicaca, we traveled back to Puno and onward to Cuzco, where we spent one night before setting off on a 3-day, 2-night trek through the Lares Valley.
The Lares Valley trek offered a breathtaking mix of high-altitude mountain scenery and authentic Quechua culture. Along the way, we passed traditional Quechua villages, where locals wore hand-knit alpaca wool clothing and vibrant, intricately woven head shawls in brilliant colors.
What made Lares truly special was the absence of crowds. Unlike the Inca Trail, which was packed with tourists and commercialized trekking groups, Lares felt untouched, a hidden gem still waiting to be discovered. Most of the time, we were completely alone, surrounded by nothing but vast, wild landscapes and the echoes of the Andes. It felt like a secret world, one that surely wouldn’t stay secret for long.
Sterling on a high pass 16,000′
The trekking was incredible, and we gradually adapted to the high altitude with the help of coca tea, the traditional tea of the Incas made from coca leaves, which are also used in the production of cocaine. The tea helped with acclimatization, but it wasn’t enough to prevent Sterling from falling seriously ill.
At some point during the trek, he developed severe diarrhea, possibly due to a combination of the altitude and food sickness. His condition worsened until he was too weak to walk. One night, while we were camping in the freezing rain, he stumbled out of his tent in a delirious state during a bout of diarrhea and accidentally fell into a lake, adding hypothermia to his already miserable condition.
Realizing Sterling wouldn’t be able to continue on foot, our guide and the village horsemen carrying our supplies decided to put him on one of their horses. The horseman’s 12-year-old son then took it upon himself to single-handedly escort Sterling—now strapped to the horse—over one of the lower passes to our destination village, where he could rest and recover until I arrived.
For part of the trek, Sterling and I took separate paths. While he traveled back on horseback, I pressed on by foot, climbing over the 16,000-foot section of the Condor Pass, taking in the full challenge and beauty of the high-altitude Andes on my own.
High alpine lakes
Glaciers
Horse caravan with Indigenious lady
Local Quechua people
We stayed in traditional stone villages, where the locals cultivated potatoes and raised llamas and alpacas. The rugged stone houses, with their thatched roofs and weathered walls, felt like something out of another era, reminding me of the villages in the movie Braveheart. Life here seemed untouched by modern conveniences, with farmers wrapped in thick alpaca wool garments, tending to their livestock against the dramatic backdrop of the Andes. It was a glimpse into a world that had changed little over the centuries.
Where we camped
We were presented with cuy, the traditional guinea pig dish that has been a staple of Incan cuisine for centuries. In one village, a local woman invited us into her home, where dozens of guinea pigs scurried across the bedroom floor, darting in and out from under the bed.
As we watched, she suddenly stepped on one, swiftly stomping it dead. Without hesitation, she picked it up, butchered it, and began preparing it for food. It was a matter-of-fact process, something entirely normal in their culture, but for me, it was a bit harder to stomach.
When the cuy was finally served, I forced myself to take a small bite, but that was more than enough. The taste wasn’t what put me off—it was the feeling of betrayal. Eating guinea pig felt too personal, like a dishonor to my childhood pet, Chirples Chub Chubbles. That one bite was all I could handle.
Guinea pig meal
Local house
Guinea pigs on the bedroom floor
Quechua village
Quechua village
Alpaca round up
Woman knitting clothes
Indigenious man in traditional shawl
After finishing the Lares Valley trek, we soaked in a hot spring in a small village, letting the steaming mineral water soothe our aching muscles. It was the perfect way to unwind after days of trekking through rugged mountain terrain.
The relaxation didn’t last long, though. Our return to Cuzco was on a hellish, overcrowded local bus, packed with Quechua villagers. Many stood in the aisle, leaning on Sterling and me for support as we bounced along narrow, winding dirt roads carved into the mountainside.
At times, it felt like the entire road was on the verge of crumbling away, with sheer drop-offs just inches from the tires. Every sharp turn brought the unsettling feeling that we might slide right off the mountain, making it one of the most nerve-wracking rides of the trip.
2 Day Incan Trail and Macchu Picchu
The last few days of our trip were dedicated to Peru’s most famous destination—the 15th-century Incan city of Machu Picchu, a mysterious, abandoned citadel perched high in the Andean foothills at 9,000 feet.
After spending one night in Cuzco, we took a train to the starting point of the two-day Inca Trail. Following in the footsteps of the Incas, we hiked along ancient stone steps, the same ones they had used for centuries to travel between villages. Along the way, we passed the lesser-known temple ruins of Ullurumbu and encountered a cluster of rattlesnakes basking on the rocks. Overhead, majestic condors soared against the backdrop of the towering Andes.
The final stretch of the trail was a steep and grueling ascent, leading to an overlook of Machu Picchu just before sunset. As we descended toward the ruins, the golden light cast long shadows over the iconic stone terraces and temples. However, our time there was brief—the site was officially closed, and we were required to leave.
We spent the night in Aguas Calientes, the small tourist town at the base of the mountain and the last stop on the train line. The next morning, we returned to Machu Picchu at sunrise, when the mist still clung to the ruins, for a more in-depth exploration of one of the most spectacular archaeological sites in the world.
The train to Aguas Calientes is the only way to reach Machu Picchu besides hiking. The railway winds through the breathtaking Andean landscape, following the Urubamba River as it snakes through deep valleys and cloud forests.
Mountains
Ullurumbu-another Incan ruined city that we visited on the 2 day Incan Trail
Macchu Picchu
Rattle snakes on the trail
Wandering lama at Macchu Picchu
While at Machu Picchu early in the morning, we walked through the ancient city, only rediscovered in the last century, and felt overwhelmed by its beauty and mystery. Not much is known about its true purpose, but many believe it was either a center of religious worship or a monastery for Incan shamanistic priests. Standing among the ruins, it was easy to imagine it as a sacred place, where the Incas connected with the spiritual world.
What makes Machu Picchu truly special isn’t just the ruins themselves, but the dramatic mountain scenery. The city clings to steep slopes, and at times, walking down the ancient stone staircases felt dizzying, as the valley floor stretched thousands of feet below.
High above us, condors—the world’s largest birds—soared effortlessly, their massive wings casting shadows over the ruins. Meanwhile, llamas roamed freely, grazing peacefully on the grassy terraces.
The surrounding jungles are home to elusive wildlife, including South American bears and pumas, though we weren’t lucky enough to spot any. However, I did come across a cluster of rattlesnakes on the trail, a stark reminder that even in one of the world’s most famous ruins, the wild was never far away.
Macchu Pichu
After Machu Picchu, we took the train back to Cuzco and caught a flight to Lima, where we hired a taxi for a surf day trip to Pico Alto—home to some of Peru’s largest waves.
Once there, we rented surfboards and paddled out into the powerful Pacific swells. The waves were big but mellow, offering an exciting but manageable ride. Surfing at Pico Alto was the perfect way to wrap up our time in Peru, trading the high-altitude Andes for the vast, open ocean.
After spending one night in a beachside surf hostel, we returned to Lima and caught our flight back to San Diego, bringing an end to an adventure filled with mountains, jungles, ruins, and waves.