On solo travels in Peru

On solo travels in Peru

There was only one reason why I traveled solo to Peru – it just so happened. I had the opportunity to attend a workshop in Peru and a holiday was inevitable. I was not as much driven by a thirst for self-discovery, quiet reflection time or an offbeat adventure as by an irresistible desire to explore Peru through and through. With whom I undertook these explorations was secondary (although it would have been nice if my husband could have tagged along). 

Riding solo has always been my thing whether it be travel, dining, movies and pretty much everything although I had never undertaken a two-week solo trip before and definitely not in a foreign country! While I spent the months leading up to the trip voraciously planning for all the places I wanted to visit and the things I wanted to do, the thought of equipping myself with the experiences of other solo travelers did not strike me as necessary at all. After all, who would ever even think of loneliness when one was in the Amazon rainforest or Machu Picchu? And under the support of a professional tour operator at that? But much to my surprise, solo travel threw a whole lot of new surprises my way about human connections and the sense of homeliness as well as the workings of the world and of my own mind. I realized how important it was to have a basketful of ideas, adaptive to varying energy levels, to evade loneliness and restlessness. I discovered how even the most enchanting places can sometimes leave us disconnected and how the most quotidian experiences can be exhilarating. And I have now learnt to cherish making friends for the way. I have attempted to capture some of my most valuable discoveries about solo travel here:

Overplanning is sometimes a good thing

My trip to Peru comprised three segments: 4 days in Cusco including Machu Picchu and the Rainbow Mountains, 5 days in the rainforest at Puerto Maldonado and 5 days in Lima including a day trip to Paracas and Huacachina. The first two parts were designed by a tour operator and the itinerary looked pretty packed on paper but the experience was much more nuanced than that. 

The Cusco part of the trip was truly packed with very little time to play flaneuse and randomly explore the streets and localities, which is something I love to do. I had a day and a half to see Cusco, a day on the short Inca trail, a day at Machu Picchu and another day at the Rainbow Mountains. The physical exertion of the high altitude that made walking even on seemingly flat ground challenging – leave alone hiking through the Andes – along with my initial high energy at the start of my trip kept me mentally stimulated and in complete awe throughout the trip. Even as I type, memories of the colorful mountainscapes with herds of llamas and the luring cobblestone lanes give me goose pimples. This part of the trip left very little time for contemplation. The rainforest was a slightly different story.

Wildlife sanctuaries often carry an interesting illusion. They appear endless in their expanse and the immersion in thickets of green can get one’s heart racing. But the extent to which one can explore the forest is often restricted to organized hikes; venturing any further is not particularly safe. So, while I thoroughly enjoyed the forest walks and boat safaris and all the tarantulas, caimans, birds, monkeys and sloths we met, I was not prepared for the long “free” periods in between. The lodge had lovely community spaces with a bar, an enclosed seating area that overlooked the Madre Dios River which provided great views of the sunrise and the birdlife as well as a little wooden bridge that stretched across the property from the riverside to an ayahuasca house at the far end. But being confined to this limited space for half the day somewhat reduced the pleasure of exploring the area. Wi-fi was restricted to 6 hours a day perhaps as an energy-saving strategy (or not). This severely reduced opportunities for random scrolling and even calling home. I paced frequently across the stony and wooden paths that ran through the lodge from the river’s edge to the ayahuasca house at the far end, keeping a lookout for interesting antics of the capybara families that lived on the property.

While a few solo travelers managed to steer in and out of other groups, these opportunities were relatively more uncomfortable and limited for me. When I did strike a bond with someone, they ended up leaving before I did, which left me a little teary-eyed. 

I hadn’t planned to journal during this time but was strongly driven towards it in the absence of nothing else to do or anyone to talk to. I picked up a diary we had received at the workshop I had attended and began to write down all the thoughts streaming through my mind without dwelling on them. It was like speaking to the pages. Journaling proved to be helpful to pass the lonely hours. 

In the end, I was thrilled about the opportunity to have visited the Amazon rainforest but would probably opt for a shorter stay in a wildlife sanctuary if I ever happen to travel solo in the future. Dealing with solitude during this part of my trip prompted me to plan a structured itinerary for my entirely solo stay in Lima. During periods of wi-fi availability, I researched the main tourist attractions in Lima and prepared a district-wise list. I left very little scope for free time and allowed for flaneur-type explorations to emerge organically. This proved to be a great idea.

When in Lima, I had a planned set of activities to do each day and walked to most of these places, stopping or lingering at places that seemed interesting. This plan gave me the flexibility to explore while having a structure at the same time. Cities also just offer more mobility and freedom and this really helped. Perhaps my biggest takeaway from this experience is to be prepared for free (rather empty) time to emerge during solo travel and to have plenty of ideas about how to deal with it. Random explorations can be great but can get boring at times, too. 

But slow travel can be soothing too…

While I am now an ardent believer in overplanning for a solo trip, I cannot overlook the value that slow travel had for me. Some of my fondest memories of Peru are the lingerings themselves irrespective of the places where I lingered. I loved pacing up and down and round and around at the Place de las Armas in Cusco and passing by the beautiful churches. 

It was an absolute delight to walk the Malecón de Miraflores repeatedly, looking out at the rough coasts of the Pacific. 

Finding the best bench at the Chinese Park in Lima and watching the surfers below was a privilege. 

And during my bouts of solitude at the lodge in the rainforest, I found that rather than around me, there was a lot of action above in the trees with the abundance of birdlife and their politics. The trees were where the real drama was to be sought! 

One of the key hallmarks of my holiday was one of the slowest moments I had in Park Kennedy in Miraflores. In fact, it was an experience of near complete stationariness. Park Kennedy turned out to be one of my most favourite places of the entire trip because of the extremely furry, friendly and healthy cats that lived there and had an entire ecosystem built primarily for them. It was the ideal habitat for stray animals and was an absolute delight to stroll or sit in. One morning, I had just signed up for a food walk and had fifteen minutes to spare for a quick breakfast. So, I picked a bench at Park Kennedy across the street from the tourism centre where I had booked my walk and opened a packet of nuts. At the sound of the plastic tearing open, a beautiful golden cat scrambled up to me and sniffed the packet. Realizing that it was of no interest to her, she sought the next best thing. She crawled into my lap, curled up and began to take a nap! As an animal lover, this was an experience unlike anything else that I could ever hope for. But as her nap persisted and the time for the food walk drew nearer, I had a choice to make: let her nap or wake her up and go for the walk. It wasn’t too difficult to choose the former. So. I sat there on the bench for an hour and forty-five minutes with this lap cushion on me, making minor adjustments to my posture, gently sliding off my backpack to place it to the side and carefully pulling her back up as she slid down my legs. To my absolute wonder and delight, I could feel warmth radiating out of her even when I placed my hand a few inches above her furry self. And every time my fingers got chilly, I would warm them over her. A relationship of symbiotic warmth is what we appeared to share. Our situation attracted some “oh so cute” glances from passers-by and a few discretely took pictures of us. When she was done, she slid off my lap, had a long stretch and crawled off into the grass. 

Two days later, we had the same encounter. And this time, she stayed for two hours and took care of my morning plans!

Lingering gave me a sense of peace and connectedness and is definitely something I am going to keep looking out for wherever I travel. 

Finding a home in multilingualism

“Vous parlez très bien le français.” This was the most unlikely compliment I ever expected to receive on this trip. Being so used to shifting among different languages,

I find it a little suffocating to speak only in one language (usually English) when traveling abroad. Little did I expect that I could choose to speak in French instead of English in Peru.

When I first met a French tourist during a walking tour through the historical centre in Lima, I was too nervous to speak to her in French as I felt it was too rusty. This changed when I met a group of three French tourists in Puerto Maldonado. They could speak very little English and I could not resist the urge to try speaking in French to them. Soon, I became a casual translator during forest walks and at the dining times. 

My forays into French during my rainforest sojourn ignited my confidence to speak in French to people instead of English given the greater similarities between French and Spanish rather than Spanish and English. Plus, I could probably pass as someone from French Guiana, which would make me seem like less of a foreign (or so I hoped). And this strategy worked pretty well when I returned to Lima. People were more comfortable speaking with me at length in Spanish and when I tried to understand what they were saying through the French part of my brain than the English one, I seemed to understand much more. It also made me feel much more at home. 

Sourcing comfort food

Being vegetarian can be a huge limitation when traveling abroad with fewer, and often more expensive, food options. In the past, this shortage had left me feeling quite stressed and I realized that when alone, this same stress could get much worse. Foreseeing this possibility, I carried along one of my most cherished foods – protein powder. And it was a great idea. I started everyday with a scoop and this was my only dinner on most days. Not only was it comforting to have an assured source of food but it was like carrying an important part of myself everywhere I went. It also kept me from worrying about securing enough protein and I managed to maintain (and even increase) my gym gains!

That did not mean I did not find extremely enticing food options along the way and even indulged every once in a while. 

On being (not only) a solo traveler

Very often, those who travel solo often tend to reify their identity as solo travelers or have it reified for them. At the very best, there is a subcategory of solo women travelers. I found that harping too much on the “solo” part of my travels made me feel “lonely” rather than the neutral “alone”. Opening my mind and shifting my focus to my other identities during my holiday help me change my perspective about my solo status. For instance, I met a lot of other solo travelers from around the world – England, France, Scotland, Singapore, Algeria. Most were women. It was really interesting to see how none of our extremely exciting and rich conversations involved any discussions about us being women or solo travelers. There were conversations about how to manage altitude sickness in Cusco, comparisons of the Salkantay trek with the Mount Fuji trek, reasons to choose an Airbnb in Italy, and looking for a job after a six-month tour across South America. Evidently, solo women travelers can have much more interesting things to talk about than just being solo women travelers!

I found a brief moment of bonding with a woman from Singapore. We were rarities in two ways – being Asian tourists to South America who actually live in Asia and being solo women travelers from Asia. I had another bonding moment with a woman from England who worked in education, which is an area I have trained and worked in and we spoke about how skills acquired through education could be extended to other professions.

Of course, on guided tours and walks, I was a member of the group. Someone I did not know helped me down a sand dune in Ica. Someone else waited for me during the Inca trail as I was one of the slowest members of the group. Someone else asked me what the causa I tasted was like. So, no matter how we travel, we are never ever just solo travelers and we don’t necessarily have to do everything on our own all the time.  

Among all the lessons that I learnt about solo travel during my time in Peru, the most profound lesson was to be prepared for a variety of emotions, practice just being an observer to them all and to look in many, many different directions and in many different places for little, everyday surprises.