From Pura Vida to Pachamama

If Costa Rica opened my heart to adventure, Peru opened my lungs—literally—by squeezing the air out of them. After making a promise in Costa Rica to live and not just exist, I decided to honor that promise by heading to Peru. Once again, I’d be hitting two birds with one stone: volunteer and travel.

By the time I boarded my flight to Lima, I wasn’t just carrying a backpack. I carried Spain’s chaos, Italy’s lessons, Costa Rica’s healing, and the quiet confidence that maybe—just maybe—I was getting better at this whole “solo traveler with questionable choices” thing. I truly believed I had a decent handle on traveling alone. Not an expert, but experienced enough… or so I thought.

Then I landed in Cusco, and the Andes basically said, “Girl, sit your ass down.”

First Impressions: The Country That Makes You Earn Its Beauty

While waiting for my connecting flight in Lima, the early morning air, the hum of Spanish mixed with Quechua, and the bright colors of local culture all struck me at once. It was chaotic and beautiful, familiar and foreign in the same breath.

I was jolted out of this sensory haze when I realized I was waiting at the wrong gate—with only 20 minutes left to fix the situation. So off I went, semi-sprinting with my 40L backpack like an overstuffed turtle. By some miracle, I not only made it in time, but I was greeted with an unexpected seat upgrade. Business class, yay!

The bliss was short-lived. I slept through most of the flight, only to step out into the thin, icy air of Cusco—the same air that promptly punched the oxygen out of my lungs. Peru wastes no time introducing itself.

The Volunteering Week — Where It All Begins

Before the sightseeing, before Machu Picchu, before the food that nearly converted me into a Peruvian grandmother, there was my week volunteering in a community clinic.

I was lucky that the clinic I was assigned to was just walking distance from my host family’s home. Every morning, after a delicious breakfast prepared to me by my host parents, I trekked (okay, I just walked but the altitude made it feel like a mini-trek!) to my assignment, said the cursory introductions and headed off to my assigned unit.

Quick selfie before the craziness starts.

Because my Spanish level was higher than the other volunteers, I was assigned solo. Good for the ego; terrifying for my soul.

Speaking Spanish while traveling is cute.
Speaking Spanish in a medical setting?
That’s when havoc starts.

Day 1: I forgot the professional word for “buttocks.”
Day 2: A patient spoke so fast I thought he was reciting the entire history of Peru.
Day 3: A senior nurse nearly lost faith in humanity when I couldn’t understand “lapicero.” (I swear, the moment she said lapicero rojo, something finally clicked in my Neanderthal brain.)

But despite these little humiliations, working in that clinic reminded me exactly why I wanted to keep this volunteering tradition alive. It wasn’t glamorous, and it wasn’t meant for Instagram. It was grounding, human, and real.

The (Mis)Adventures Begin

You’d think after Spain, Italy, and Costa Rica, I’d have learned my lessons.
Nope. The Andes humbled me in ways I did not know were possible.

Here’s how Peru added new chapters to my growing collection of travel chaos.

(Mis)Adventure #1: Altitude: Pachamama Said “Not Today”

I prepared for altitude, I really did. I took Acetazolamide, brought migraine and nausea meds, and packed layers for the cold. I also believed I had a high cold tolerance—years ago I proudly referred to myself as a “polar bear.”

And when I stepped out of the car that drove me to my host family’s house, I thought to myself, “well, this isn’t so bad.” Until I climbed the steps to my designated room.

Cusco sits at over 3,000 meters above sea level.
My lungs were like: “Absolutely not!”

Breathless. Dizzy. On the brink of migraine.
A taste of what COPD feels like (minus the decades of smoking).

Taking a day off to recuperate from the daily migraines.

My host family quickly came to the rescue with coca tea—made from the same plant cocaine is derived from, but perfectly legal and incredibly helpful. They brewed soup, made sure I ate, and even rubbed Vicks on my chest in the same loving way Filipino lolas do. With their care, I got back on my feet.

Lesson learned: Never underestimate altitude or the healing powers of local folk medicine. Remember, modern science was based on traditional medicine anyway.

Coca tea.

(Mis)adventure #2: Machu Picchu: Instagram vs Reality

Nobody visits Peru without going to Machu Picchu. It’s the law. I imagined the iconic view—those ancient ruins floating above the clouds.

Before my trip, I had the beautiful image of the ancient Incan ruins against the backdrop of tall, lush mountains in my mind. I’ve seen the photos on Instagram and watched countless videos about Peru and Machu Picchu on Youtube. I also coordinated closely with the tour operator to make sure I had a smooth trip to Ollantaytambo (the province where Aguas Calientes– the “gateway to Machu Picchu” is located).

Every Instagram post: glorious ruins above the clouds.
My Machu Picchu? Glorious ruins inside the clouds.

Machu Picchu is shrouded in clouds.

It rained. It was humid. My hair tried to ascend to the spiritual plane. But somewhere in that mess, the sky opened up, the fog rolled away, and the ruins revealed themselves in full glory. The combination of history, culture, altitude, and sheer natural beauty is something photos will never fully capture.

Lesson Learned: Reality >>> Instagram. Every time.

(Mis)adventure #3: Palcoyo Mountain And A Lesson In Humility

I skipped Rainbow Mountain to be “practical” and “realistic”. At this point in my stay in Cusco, I’m still battling the dregs of a cold, and altitude sickness, and knowing my physical state, I knew I couldn’t endure more hiking (unless horses or llamas are offered as alternatives to walking). While shorter than the more famous Rainbow Mountain, Palcoyo shared the same beautiful mineral-colored stripes. And unlike its famous sibling, Palcoyo is more accessible with shorter hikes and fewer crowds. I chose Palcoyo because it’s supposed to be “easier”.

HAHAHA. LIES.

At the trailhead, I started confidently. That confidence lasted about three minutes.

Then I started huffing. Puffing. Bargaining with gravity. Wondering if llamas would judge me for dying on their mountain.

Locals walked past me with supernatural ease—tiny Andean ninjas in alpaca sweaters.

The summit, though muted with clouds, was still breathtaking. Mineral-colored stripes of red, yellow, purple, and green spread across the landscape like an otherworldly painting.

Palcoyo mountain.

Coming down was another story. Nothing helped—not Agua Florida, not coca candies. The tour guide practically rescued me down the slope while I wheezed like a broken harmonica.

Lesson learned: Know your limits. Travel isn’t a competition.

(Mis)adventure #4: Huacachina– The Overpriced Oasis

Instagram calls Huacachina a “desert paradise”.
Reality: It’s Coachella + Spring break + premium pricing + sand everywhere

Huacachina oasis

Huacachina itself is a tiny tourist town with bars and party hostels everywhere, surge pricing for everything, and where a single banana costs 3 soles (everywhere else in Peru it’s ONE).

That’s the main attraction in Huacachina– the party vibes. The one thing I particularly avoid when traveling.

See, I’m a 60-year old lady trapped in the body of a 30-something-year old. My idea of a good time is a quiet space to sip a cold drink while listening to a local band. Not feel my pulse out of my ear due to loud reggaeton and have cigarette smoke stick to my skin.

But none of the travel blogs and vlogs mentioned this about Huacachina when I was doing my research, so here’s my introverted, honest review of Huacachina for fellow introverts like myself:

Pros:
-sandboarding
-beautiful sand dunes
-lively restaurants and bars that can cater to food allergies and other dietary restrictions
-great for meeting other travelers because most accommodations have party hostel vibes
-the oasis is beautiful at night with the bright lamps and the lively music from the nearby restaurants; in the morning, it’s also very charming

Cons:
-EXPENSIVE. A single banana costs 3 soles (whereas it’s 1 sol everywhere else)
-the oasis, while beautiful, is small. You can walk the circumference in minutes
-the party atmosphere
-if you’re like me, who’s more into sightseeing, Huacachina is more of a place to “do something”, than “see something.”

In spite of its drawbacks, I still enjoyed Huacachina because I tried sandboarding for the very first time!

It turned me into the happiest screaming potato sliding down a dune.

And watching the sunset glow red among the sand after a high-adrenaline adventure was worth the expensive bananas and chifa.

Enjoying the sunset after sandboarding.

Lesson learned: Some places aren’t your vibe, and that’s okay. They still hold moments worth remembering.

(Mis)adventure #5: The Best Gastronomic Adventure

Did you know that Peru has almost 4,000 species of potatoes? And that they eat alapacas and guinea pigs?

Peru’s cuisine is incredible.

I tried:

Ceviche– so far I’ve tried the Costa Rican and Peruvian ceviche, and I think I prefer the Peruvian one because of the varying textures. It has more corn, sometimes fried plantains, and yucca. My favorite is the mixed seafood ceviche.

Alpaca stew– honestly, the difference between alpaca meat and regular beef is barely noticeable. I feel like alpaca stew has a slightly gamier texture. The one I tried was braised, so it was savory and slightly sweet. I’ve yet to try it prepared in a more rustic and traditional manner.

Cuy (guinea pig)– yes, it’s considered food in Peru. I’ve tried it Asado, or roasted, and it really just tastes like chicken, but a bit oilier. It’s perfect with a side of red onion salad that cuts through the fat. I understand how some people might not be up to it, but as an adventurous eater, I loved it!

Anticuchos de Corazon (beef hearts skewers)– grilled cow heart and liver, and the ones I tried had the perfect char and flavor. I’m a big fan of organ meats and grilled is the best way to eat it, in my opinion. This is one of the Peruvian dishes that I still eat from time to time even after my trip because it’s reminiscent of my youth in the PH.

Lomo saltado– the quintessential must-try Peruvian dish because it has such low barrier to entry. It’s beef chunks, stir fried with vegetables. The name itself says “salted” so it’s on the savory-salty end of the spectrum. Served with rice and potatoes on the side. As a Filipino, this is speaks closely to my Asian palate, and with the rice? Oof! It’s an instant favorite!

Leche de Tigre– literally translates to ‘tiger’s milk’. Supposed to be an aphrodisiac, it’s the marinating liquid left after having finished ceviche. It’s an appetizer, and I find it a more soupy version of the classic ceviche.

Pisco sour– Peru’s famous cocktail. As the name implies, it is a sour drink made of pisco (Peruvian brandy), lemon or lime juice, and egg whites. Some preparations add a little bit of sweetener to balance the taste. It has a frothy texture. I’m not much of a drinker now but I enjoyed this very much during my trip.

Chicha morada– my favorite drink! It’s a traditional, non-alcoholic drink made from purple corn, fruits and spices. It’s sweet because of the fruits, but the cinnamon and other spices give it a unique flavor. The purple hue from native purple corn also gives it a distinct look. I drank this at every meal and even after my trip, I kept ordering it from a nearby local Peruvian restaurant. For me, I like it most served cold, but some people drink it as a hot beverage. Either way, it’s still delicious!

Obviously, I just barely scratched the surface of Peru’s vibrant gastronomy scene, and there’s so much more to try and discover. But what I learned is that culture comes served in many forms, and one of those is through food.

Lesson learned: Food is one of the most intimate ways to understand a place.

(Mis)adventure #6: The People Who Made Peru Feel Like Home

Across six different cities—Cusco, Puno, Arequipa, Huacachina, Paracas, and Lima—I met people who touched my journey in small, unforgettable ways. My host family cared for me like their own child. Volunteers became instant friends. Tour guides shared jokes older than the Incas. Even hotel staff went out of their way to make sure I was comfortable when I was sick.

I’ll never forget that experience: I arrived too early for check-in at a hotel, and the receptionist was very kind and let me stay in the lounge. Noticing that I sounded congested and looked a little under the weather, he personally made me warm coca tea and arranged a small snack for me while I waited. Nowhere in my travels had I experienced this level of warmth and welcome, given that the hotel wasn’t the “fancy kind” like the Marriott. And yet the staff went above and beyond, preparing packed breakfasts for me when I had to leave early and missed the free breakfast buffet I had availed.

Lesson learned: Beautiful landscapes draw you in, but the people make you want to stay.

(Mis)adventure #7: Animals: Peru’s Lethal Weapon

There’s nothing more rewarding than an animal taking a liking to you. I used to see animals as background actors until I had close encounters with them.

Alpacas— adorable and always photo-ready. They are always a welcome sight everywhere I went.

Llamas– the stars and divas of the Andes. As with alpacas, I made sure to capture a video or photo of these wonderful creatures.

Seals– seeing them bask under the warm sun on Ballestas Island was a treat! They were so chill and unbothered!

Guinea pigs– revered, adored and eaten, they are cute as pets, useful as spiritual guides and healers, and my personal opinion– tasty as lunch.

Lesson learned: Always stop for animals. They are easily the least stressful part of the journey.

(Mis)adventure #8: One-bagging May Not Be For You And That’s Okay

I was determined to be a cool one-bag minimalist traveler. That fantasy died in Cusco’s markets.

Two ponchos, one alpaca blanket, sweaters, souvenirs, and random things I absolutely “needed” later… I had three and a half bags.

At first, I considered it a personal failure. I read about how traveling with one bag is the best way to travel and I wanted to look like those Instagram one-baggers who breeze through airports with a single backpack. But Peru humbled me real bad.

Temperatures changed wildly between regions, volunteering required different clothing from sightseeing, and no matter how much I wanted to be a minimalist, my travel style just wasn’t there yet. I spent half the trip wishing I had packed certain things — and the other half carrying the weight of all the “just in case” items I didn’t even use.

But here’s the part I want to remember:

It’s okay if I’m not a one-bag traveler right now. Travel isn’t a competition. It’s a skill you learn.

Packing is part of the journey too. And like altitude acclimation, it takes time.

Lesson learned: One day I might become a sleek, efficient, one-bag wanderer…
Today is not that day. And that’s fine.

What Peru Taught Me

In the end, Peru didn’t just test me—it stretched me, humbled me, fed me, scared me, and held me. It reminded me that growth often hides in thin air, in sore legs, in missed breaths, in unexpected kindness, and in saying yes to things I never imagined myself doing. I arrived in Peru thinking I was getting the hang of solo travel, and left knowing there is still so much to learn—and that’s exactly what keeps me wandering.