Sunset along the Iquitos boardwalk.
Iquitos is the wild west. It has an energy that I haven’t seen elsewhere in Peru, one that is scarily crazy and backwards, yet exciting and glamorous all the same. Iquitos is the largest city in the world inaccessible by road – you can only get there by flying, by taking a 3-4 day cargo boat from various amazonian cities in Peru, Brazil, and Colombia, or by taking a 12 hour fast boat. Yet when you arrive in Iquitos, you don’t feel like you’re trapped by the rivers enclosing it. It’s truly a city, bustling with rundown moto-taxis honking at one another, the rain seeming to splash upwards from the concrete during the daily downpour. The city is full of oddities. There are casinos and Hummers and various forms of police in the downtown and waterfront areas. You can find bars, clubs, vegetarian friendly restaurants, and beautiful colonial Spanish architecture along the boardwalk. But there is also poverty – an overall “sketchiness,” where strangers approach in the same casual way to take their tour of the jungle or to buy their drugs. There are stray dogs on every corner, grouped together and howling at whatever passes them, all looking completely disease ridden and hungry. There are kids that are devoid of gringo curiosity, rather trained to steal the gringo’s bags draped over their chairs at restaurants. There’s the famous Belén market that sells fruits and fish right next to dead turtles, caymans, monkeys, and tapir. In a funny contrast, just a few blocks away you’ll find an expensive supermarket selling sugar free biscuits and ten varieties of granola next to the in-store wine shop and air-conditioned cafe, one that we frequented on a daily basis for their set menu lunch. There is wealth that oozes of loose morals: casinos are safe-havens for the ever-present mafia to launder their money, and the presence of not only various Peruvian police forces but also of the DEA only proves that the movement of cocaine in and out of the amazon drives much of the wealth that can be found there. (You’ll notice the extremes that I had experienced in and around Iquitos in the photos I’ve posted here.)
iquitos 22

Abandoned boat in Iquitos.
Abandoned boat in Iquitos.


The dichotomy of life and death is so easy to perceive in Iquitos. In just one day I went to the Belén market in the morning, where I saw dead endangered animals being sold as if it were entirely normal to eat animals that in no way have a place in our diet. I cringed when one woman holding a live turtle pierced it’s skin with a knife, getting ready to open it’s insides to present to shoppers looking to buy that evening’s dinner. I couldn’t bare to watch the skinned tapir head, the charred and hairless monkey hand and tail, it’s head nowhere to be found. That afternoon my friend and I visited Pilpintuwasi Butterfly Farm and Amazon Animal Orphanage, founded 12 years ago by an Austrian woman named Gudrun. Just an hour by taxi and then by boat outside of Iquitos, orphanage is home to various species of monkeys as well as a capybara, tapir, an ocelot, and a jaguar, all either brought to the sanctuary or rescued by the Eco-Police. It was incredible to see the amount of care taken to create a safe and healthy habitat for these animals as well as seeing how much it took to sustain various species of butterflies. Pilpintuwasi curates their entire life-cycle process, from housing the butterfly eggs to providing spaces for the caterpillars to grow, and then for the butterflies to survive and mate. We learned just how much work and time it takes to ensure a successful transition into a butterfly, and how short and beautiful their time on this earth is. And it was ironic and sad to see the same species of turtle in the water as I saw that morning in the market. I was able to see a small tapir while learning of its very slow mating process where a female has a baby once every five years and has a gestation rate of 13 months. Many types of Tapir are endangered due to heavy human consumption; it was no surprise that I had seen tapir heads, hooves, and their meat for sale at the market only hours before.

An owl butterfly at Pilpintuwasi.

Up close with a butterfly.
Up close with a butterfly.

Turtles for sale at Belen market.
Turtles for sale at Belen market.

Monkey and an unidentified animal for sale at the market.

Tapir head and hooves.

I had never seen a jaguar, and at this orphanage I was fortunate to see one, although he had been kept behind bars for the past 13 years after it was brought to the owner as a cub. It’s incredibly ironic that most of the animals cannot go back into the wild, whether because they were born in captivity, are physically unable to survive on their own, or in the case of the jaguar, not allowed by the Peruvian government to be transported to an open reserve or to be released into the wild. These sanctuaries and rescue centers are incredibly important for the survival of these animals and for the species in general, while also serving as a place to educate the people of the destruction they cause by capturing, killing for food, or keeping these animals as pets. But they also present a difficulty to the casual visitor – we are still seeing these animals in captivity, and they will most likely remain as such for the remainder of their lives. The zoo is the evil stepsister, but they are related all the same. This goes back to my post on Huaraz and Huacachina about the environment: we cause this destruction. We abhor it and want nothing but to change it, yet we perpetuate it by taking part in the visiting of animals, the rainforest, by merely being visitors to these places. And these people who live on that land are equally responsible for destroying their habitat, and the habitat of the animals that live there.

A friendly monkey at Pilpintuwasi Animal Orphanage.
A friendly monkey at Pilpintuwasi Animal Orphanage.

Pedro the Jaguar.
Pedro the Jaguar.

A small tapir at the orphanage.
A small tapir at the orphanage.
The high rainfall during the months of November to May in the amazon also brings out the mosquitoes. Never before have I seen so many mosquitoes in one place. And wow we did suffer from their presence, their attraction to gringo blood. My friend and I booked a three day tour in the jungle, away from the chaos in Iquitos. I left with the most mosquito bites I’ve ever had in my life – there were so many all over me, I even had two bites on my eyelids. The amount of scratching caused bruises to form – it was a discomfort that was hard to psych myself out of. But it was worth it to see truly what goes on in the jungle. We went upstream 220 kilometers outside of the city, to the underside of Pacaya-Samiria Reserve, a 20,000 square km protected area that is the largest in the country. We stayed in a rustic lodge built on stilts in the water, and took the small motor boat every day along the river to look for wildlife and to stop on land to do some walking through the jungle. I expected to see monkeys, pink and grey dolphins, caymans, sloths, various species of birds, tarantulas, medicinal trees and plants, and a copious amount of spider webs. I didn’t see any sloths or caymans, as nature doesn’t guarantee all flora and fauna sightings that exist in the jungle. But what I didn’t expect to see to the extent that I did, in only a short amount of time, the destruction. The sheer horror I felt when I saw our “local” guide, who was just a villager with a small boat and a machete, cut through his backyard whenever a tree or plant stood in his way. The way he spoke about the animals as if they’re just a good sport to catch and kill for pets or food. The little respect he had for nature. Most of the jungle paths we visited had lost it’s luster, completely void of the lush vibrancy of a healthy planet. We stopped at a local village along the river to find the waters near their homes, all built on stilts, full of empty plastic bottles and smelling of rotten fish. In fact, we did see some dead catfish, their guts swollen, floating belly up in the water just by these people’s homes. I can say I did see a sloth in the jungle, however it was completely in the opposite way that I had imagined. As I approached the poor three toed sloth, he was tied to a wooden post on the underside of a woman’s house. His arm was held up by a knotted rope, and he had little place to move. Our group spoke to the woman, who told us with pride that she found the sloth and decided she would care for it by giving it food and keeping it as a pet, that way her neighbors wouldn’t kill it for food. I understand our need to respect the cultures and customs of others. However, it was impossible to hide my disappointment and my sadness. Indeed the jungle that we fly thousands of miles and pay hundreds of dollars to visit before it becomes obsolete is being destroyed from the inside – and frankly I am not sure that anything will be done about it. Not now, not ever.

File_000 (4)
A captured pet sloth.

File_000 (5)
Trash and plastic bottles outside a small village.

File_000 (6)
Floating dead catfish in the river.

Cut down trees in the rainforest during our daily treks.
Cut down trees in the jungle.

A rainbow over our lodge, situated near Pacaya-Samiria National Reserve.

Piranha fishing, where I caught some baby catfish.
Piranha fishing, where I caught some baby catfish.

File_000 (3)
A monkey jumped on our boat, curious about our food!
On our last day we visited the Centro de Rescate Amazónico  (CREA), an amazon rescue center and Manatee sanctuary. In contrast to the sobering effect that our jungle tour had on our visions of the future of this planet, this place provided us with a small glimmer of hope. Here we learned of the great efforts that are being made to protect the manatees, macaws, monkeys, otters, turtles, and caymans, helping to rehabilitate them as they’re delivered to the center and subsequently sending them back to the wild when they are ready. CREA frequently accepts school groups. The local students, many of whom have these wild animals as pets in their homes, are known to give up these animals to the center after learning of the harm that they are doing to them by holding them in captivity. And so we see first-hand the importance of educating people of the world they live in, and it is indeed a precious place that they inhabit.

File_000 (9)
A rescued monkey at CREA.

File_000 (7)
Friendly manatee looking for food.
File_000 (8)

As I write this, I am on a 19 hour overnight bus ride from Lima to Mancora. To my left is an orange sunset shining its light along the dry desert coastline, the highway bordering the sea. It’s a dry beauty, and the sun illuminates my face, giving me warmth as I reflect on the overwhelming amount of emotions I felt in the amazon just a couple of days before.

And it hasn’t just been about the battle between humans and the environment. I was confronted with a far more immediate and personal decision to make in Iquitos. I received an email my first day in the city from the Hertie School in Berlin. I had been accepted into the International Affairs master’s program. It’s funny how it happened the same way I was able to reflect in Manú National Park, the amazon region in the south of Peru (I wrote about my experience and my decision to apply for graduate school here). It all seemed to come full circle when I received that email – I knew that I had a huge decision to make, and it was extremely time sensitive, as the tuition deposit is due in exactly a month. And I still have not made my decision. When I realized that I was actually accepted, the utter shock on my face showed my surprise that such a prestigious school would take a chance on me as their wild card in their Class of 2018. I knew I was going to Berlin, but I had already made it up in my mind that I had more time, and that perhaps early next year I would be picking up my life and starting anew. It seems that things are moving a lot quicker – I now have a timeline again. If I accept, by September I will be moving, and much of what I thought about while spending hours boating in the amazon was precisely what that means for my life in New York. How I would be leaving my friends and family, most of whom have no idea that when I return in June, I would have just two months to see them. How I won’t be returning to the life I started to create for myself in NYC. I now arrive in Mancora on the coast of northern Peru — a town of surfing, beaches, and ceviche — to take the time to rest and find some clarity.

Chiclayo & Chachapoyas.

For the first time while backpacking South America, I made the conscious decision to travel with someone else. I thought long and hard about traveling with a companion, and it happened quite organically. I made friends with a group of six backpackers in Sucre, Bolivia, and happened to run into them in La Paz, and again in Cusco, Peru. They were a fun group from England, Belgium, and France, and were very relaxed about their travels. One of them expressed an interest in the same route I planned to take in the north coast of Peru and the northeast Amazon, areas that aren’t as frequently traveled by first-time backpackers to the country. And so, after getting to know this person through my run-ins with this group in various cities, I decided to give traveling with someone else a chance.

As a solo-backpacker, I have met many people in my travels that have turned out to become my good friends. But what I have done so many times in the past is made these connections and frequently kept in touch, but I never thought about having them actually accompany me in my intended route. Perhaps it’s because people haven’t been traveling to the same places as I’ve been along the way. But in this case, someone came along with flexibility to explore Peru, and without a set date to go home. and most importantly we seemed to share a similar traveling style.

So far we’ve visited the coastal city of Chiclayo and the mountain town of  Chachapoyas. As of now it has only been a short time since the two of us have been traveling, but I can tell that I am learning a lot from this experience already. It turns out there are quite a few practical benefits to traveling with a companion, and arguably it’s more interesting to do so with someone who doesn’t come from home, someone with an entirely different culture than your own. You can save money when splitting taxis, food, and accommodation. Making decisions are often easier when you have someone to talk them out with. Long bus rides go by quicker and are far less stressful when you know whom you’ll be sitting next to. They can watch your bags when you need to step away for a moment. Tours can be booked at a cheaper rate when there’s two people involved. Overall, you have someone to watch your back while you watch theirs. You have a friend to share in the sometimes stressful interactions with locals that you can later laugh about together. You have a witness to the indescribably funny and crazy moments along the way. You have someone to help you be accountable. That person can push you to do things you otherwise wouldn’t think of doing (in a good way, of course). And if you’re lucky, that person can be on the same wavelength as you. As time flies by, you’ll learn more about that person’s life, and in turn you’ll be given the chance to share in your own experiences. Because really, everyone has their own travel story to tell.

I am curious what I will learn from all of this, and will surely write about it once I am well on my way alone again.

Tucume, the largest pyramid complex in the world, outside of Chiclayo. At this site there are 26 important pyramids in 540 acres. Constructed by the Lambayeque in 1000 AD, they were conquered by the Chimu in 1375 and incorporated into the Incan Empire in 1470.


Sunset at Pimentel beach in Chiclayo.
Kuelap ruins outside of Chachapoyas. The Fortress of Kuelap is one of the largest ancient stone monuments in the New World, and is at located 3,000 meters.
Kuelap was built during the pre-Inca times, at around the sixth century A.D.


In contrast to the Incas, who built their homes in a rectangular shape, the people of Kuelap built their domiciles in a circle.


Huaraz & Huacachina.

Laguna 69, the glacial lake deposit from Chacraraju, of the mountains of Cordillera Blanca at 4650 meters above sea level. Huarascaran National Park is home to the highest mountain in Peru.
Laguna 69, the glacial lake deposit from Chacraraju, of the mountains of Cordillera Blanca at 4650 meters above sea level. Huarascaran National Park is home to the highest mountain in Peru.

Peru is one of the most geographically diverse countries I’ve ever been to. It’s one of seventeen of the world’s megadiverse countries (all of which contain 70% of the earth’s biodiversity). The country has three major regions: the coast (costa), the Andes (sierra), and the Amazon rainforest (selva). I experienced the drastic changes in climate not only in Manú, where within one day I saw the changes in flora and fauna as we reached the high selva and descended into the wet and rainy rainforest. But I also saw the sudden climate shift on the bus from Huaraz to Lima, and from Lima to Ica, where I had started my day next to the snow-capped mountain range in Huarascarán National Park, and by sunset I was exploring the hot and dry desert oasis in Huacachina. While in Huacachina, a small town in Ica province that is known largely for it’s sandboarding and dune buggy excursions catered to foreigners, I took a day-trip to Paracas, where I sealed my introduction to Peruvian geography. It was in Paracas National Reserve, a desert peninsula along the coast and the only marine reserve in Peru, where my subconscious thoughts about the environment were surfaced for the first time. I realized that I had been thinking a long while about my relationship to the planet and what it means as a traveler to experience the world within an environmental context. Being able to witness these extraordinary changes in my environment, and at such a fast pace, is overwhelming yet very powerful. It’s also really depressing. We are destroying our world, and as a traveler I am playing a significant part in it’s rapid environmental decline.

It’s interesting how as I’ve gotten older I’ve become more excited about nature. I was born and raised in the classic city setting. The extent of my exposure to nature was going to the beach on weekends and on holidays. I wasn’t isolated from the diversity we have on this planet – I’ve traveled extensively and have seen many exotic places. But I never considered myself an outdoorsy person, and so I didn’t explore nature from an “adventure” perspective. I wasn’t in love with the idea of camping outside and spending my days hiking in the forest. Nowadays, I crave being outside; last year I started hiking and since then I haven’t been able to stop. Although challenging, I felt at ease in Torres del Paine in Patagonia, hiking for hours on end each day. I felt invincible climbing the snowy Villarrica Volcano in Pucón in Chile. The 5,000 meter altitude of the Vinicunca mountains near Cusco left me gasping for oxygen, but when I reached the summit I felt such a sense of accomplishment rarely felt in my “city” life. And I see myself getting better and stronger each time I set out to hike. I didn’t think I would ever be wearing hiking boots in my life, and here I am proudly wearing them almost every day!

Vinicunca Mountains, Cusco.
Vinicunca Mountains, Cusco.
At 5000 meters above sea level in Vinicunca.
At 5000 meters above sea level in Vinicunca.

In my travels I crave seeing the world in its natural beauty partly because I am increasingly aware of its impermanence. What I see is not forever.

On our way back to Huacachina from our day trip to Paracas, a fellow traveler and friend said to me, “as we see the world, we destroy the world.” The more foreigners visit a place unknown to them, the more they destroy that particular habitat. It makes no difference whether we are luxury travelers or frugal backpackers. Our mere presence is what creates the chaos. And here in Peru it is evident that some of it’s most prized physical and cultural treasures are at risk of destruction.

Sandboarding in Huacachina.
FullSizeRender (23)
Huacachina Oasis

IMG_1262 FullSizeRender (28)

Every day tourists take photos as they jump into the air overlooking Machu Picchu. What they don’t realize is that this high forest is actually in danger of sinking. As they land from their high jump, checking to see if all their friends made it in the air and editing away to post on their instagram, they don’t realize they are contributing to soil erosion. The rumor that the Peruvian government is going to create elevated platforms that prevent the huge influx of tourists from stepping on the ruins themselves can quickly become a reality. Hikers leave trash at the gorgeous glacial lakes in Huarascarán National Park. Cultural destruction is evident in Cusco where the local Peruvian way of life has been substituted with the increasing demand for tour operators, massage parlors, souvenir shops, and a McDonald’s, KFC, and Starbucks, all occupying historical buildings in the main plaza square. In Iquitos, it has become increasingly common for foreigners to interest in partake in a spiritual and medicinal ceremony that has been performed by shamans for hundreds of years. People are taking note of this heightened interest in ayahuasca, and as a result there are some unscrupulous fake shamans taking advantage of people that are willing to pay hundreds of dollars to do something without truly understanding the cultural significance of such to the indigenous community. On a related note, people will also pay anything to learn from the partially remote indigenous communities in the amazon. The social consequences of tribal tourism are dire, as is the mission/religious-based “white man” influence on indigenous populations. For instance, while I was walking in the jungle in Manú I saw three young girls from the Machiguenga indigenous tribe dressed in western clothes, one in a Minnie Mouse t-shirt and another wearing clogs. My guide recognized that they were Machiguengas and was surprised they were anywhere near where we were walking. He began speaking to them in their native language, and he knew they were at least three days away from their home, as they lived much deeper in the reserve. We saw a young European man accompanied by several women approach us, quickly interrupting my guide and speaking to the young girls in Spanish, telling them to hurry along. We knew right away these were missionaries. These missionaries are not exactly the tourist travelers I am discussing here, but this is just another example of the long term effects of modern-day exploration.

In Paracas National Reserve, our guide brought us to an area where we could find thousands of fossils proving that the present-day desert was once a lake within a humid, jungle-like landscape. As we looked at these cylindrical remnants of a tropical water world, the guide began showing us how we could remove the fossils from the clay with water. He excavated a fossil in this method and then he promptly gave it to one to one of us to keep. Various people subsequently walked about and started doing the exact same thing. I was in total shock. I could not believe that this man, someone who is supposed to be proud of the diversity and rich history of the Paracas desert, was literally removing 36 million year old fossils from it’s proper place. Instead of preserving what is left, he is directly causing its destruction, and soon enough there literally won’t be any fossils left in their natural resting place. I realized then that we truly are our own worst enemies. We are the reason for all the destruction we so often try to prevent. And “gringos” aren’t the only ones at fault. As with the local guide in Paracas, no one escapes the blame. Sometimes it’s the residents, those who live in their world more than anyone, that cause more destruction than the visitors. Is it a question of education? Or is it just that we want to have, in a materialistic sense, a piece of something exotic come along with us, as a memento of our where we’ve traveled? Why do we have such an obsession with the material? This is not a modern phenomena – think of a beautiful library where hunters proudly display their kill, the lion and boar heads stuck on a piece of wood jutting out from the wall. I am growing more aware of how I used to carry extraordinary value to objects, and I am now feeling less of a desire to physically take a part of what I see and what I experience with me, although sometimes it can be tempting. We are fortunate to have photos to remind us of the beauty we saw, videos to show us those candid moments frozen in time, and our voices and memories to record our memories and reflections of our travels.

FullSizeRender (29)
A pelican in Paracas marina.
FullSizeRender (21)
Paracas National Reserve.
FullSizeRender (27)
The 36 million year old fossils embedded in clay.

FullSizeRender (20)

FullSizeRender (25)
FullSizeRender (26)
Puya tree. These trees are only found in Peru, and at this altitude (over 3000 meters). This puya is over 100 years old.

The more we push ourselves to explore every corner of the world, the more destruction we cause along the way. Yes, there is ethical travel. There is responsible, eco-friendly, sustainable tourism. But none of these travel concepts are completely immune. The sad fact is that even if we stayed put in our home town and didn’t travel, we would still be causing destruction. Because then we’d be hurting our own land, sometimes without even knowing it. So what can we do? I certainly don’t have an answer. And I certainly won’t stop traveling. Because I, selfishly or not, want to see the world. I want to hike the mountains, ride along the desert, lie on the pristine beaches, scuba dive in the oceans, and ride boats along the rivers of the rainforest. And in a very small way I can be more aware of the food that I eat, my lifestyle, and my consumption habits. And if we all tried to be more aware of our footprint and of our individual impact wherever we are in the world — maybe, just maybe, we can keep on traveling.
FullSizeRender (35)

FullSizeRender (36)
Hiking to Laguna 69 at Huarascaran National Park.
Laguna 69.
FullSizeRender (32)
Colorful mineral lake at Huarascaran National Park.
FullSizeRender (33)
One of the coolest trees I’ve seen, the queñual. The red/orange bark is flaky and soft. Queñual trees are only found at 3,500–4,800 meters above sea level, forming forest patches along the eastern and western slopes of the Andes highlands.

FullSizeRender (30)


FullSizeRender (18)

After Bolivia I made my way to Peru for the second time (I wrote a post about my trip to Peru over a year ago, which you can read here). My intentions in Peru from the beginning were the areas of the country that are usually visited when there’s enough in someone’s vacation after Machu Picchu, Cusco, and Lima. These include the desert, the central Andes mountain ranges, the northern coast, and the northwest amazon (which includes the well known city of Iquitos in northeastern Peru). After arriving in Cusco I decided to take a four day tour through the southwest rainforest in Manú. Manú National Park is a UNESCO World Heritage Site biosphere reserve covering an area of 15,328 square kilometers. The park protects ecological zones that range in altitude, from as low as 150 meters above sea level to the Central Andean high selva, or jungle, at 4200 meters. Because of this topographical range, Manú has one of the highest levels of biodiversity of any park in the world.

Our first day we began our 10 hour bus ride at 6am in Cusco. We passed the town of Paucartambo and then descended the high selva cloud forest at 3400 meters above sea level all the way down to 500 meters to the jungle town of Pilcopata. As we rode through the highlands, beginning in the cold, dry, classically Peruvian terraced mountains that later became the flat, lush, humid, hot jungle, I had some time to watch the vast changes in landscape to reflect on my travels thus far, which had totaled three months and eighteen days.

A tamarin monkey jumped to my lap at the animal conservatory in Manu.
A tamarin monkey jumped to my lap at an animal conservatory in Manu.

In December, I realized I wanted to go back to school. I never thought that I would even consider graduate school, but there I was hiking in the gorgeous Patagonian mountains in Argentina and thinking about going back to the student lifestyle. And the more I thought about graduate school, the more I was drawn to studying abroad in Europe, specifically in Berlin. And so after I left Recife at the end of February, I decided I was going to apply for a Masters in International Affairs program in Berlin. I’ve applied and am awaiting a reply — I will know soon enough if my life is about to change drastically. I may be leaving New York in September to go to Berlin, and for two years, at least. If I don’t get accepted into this program, I will honestly be okay with it. It does not, however, change my intentions to move to Europe to obtain a masters degree. It may happen in the following winter or spring semesters, but it is something I feel I must do. I love New York City and I know it will always be there for me when I return, just as it was when I moved to Washington DC for my undergraduate degree, when I moved to Paris for my exchange program, and whenever I leave to travel for long periods of time. I am not afraid of packing up and settling into an unknown place. What I don’t know right now is the exact context of my moving to Europe. Will I be changing careers and studying international relations? Is this even what I want to do? Or will I be taking the slightly more comfortable route of receiving a masters in business at a lesser known school in Berlin that caters to foreigners? Or, will I move there to work for a startup, and study for a master’s degree part time? Depending on my moving timeline, what will I be doing in NYC to earn a living? Should I find a full time job or just work on some side projects?

As of now, I know that I will be moving to Europe for some time. I need this change. I left my apartment in Manhattan initially to sublease it for three months, which then turned into six months, and as of almost a month ago I told my roommate I wasn’t coming back to the city. My mother went to the apartment and moved out almost everything that I had left behind. Thinking about it now, I didn’t have the chance to really say goodbye to my life at that apartment that I called home for the last three years. I didn’t tell my doormen, I didn’t say anything to the local businesses that I frequented in the area. I left my life there while I was already gone, and maybe that’s the best way to do things anyhow. I am devastated that I won’t have a place to go back to when I return, and that I will have to come back to my mother’s home, which I know will be extremely challenging for me. I won’t have the freedom I had in the city; I won’t even have a car. But I know that is the sacrifice I have to make so that I can still travel and save enough money to be able to live abroad again. And, hopefully with the help of some friends, I can stay in the city here and there when I need to.

I am not at all sure what’s next for me in the very near future, and it’s often overwhelming to think about. It’s crazy to think that I am even going through this process in of all places in the amazon rainforest, more than halfway through my travels. Applying for graduate school is not an easy task at home, let alone at random cafes in Bolivia and Peru with terrible WiFi. Moving out of your home is not something to be taken lightly, and here I am moving out of my beloved apartment virtually, without even closing my front door for the last time.

And so in rainforest my thoughts kept coming back to what the real purpose has been for me to travel right at this moment in my life. I thought, this is what traveling is all about. It’s a lot of work. It’s a roller coaster of emotions. It’s one day of feeling absolutely free to the next feeling completely strangled. It’s yesterday having a clear head and moving in a straight line to tomorrow feeling cloudy and sensing you’ve only made the wrong turn and nearly falling off a cliff. At that moment in the car, I was feeling all the extremes at once; it was like I was revisiting the drastic weather changes in Patagonia all over again.  It felt like I was waiting for everything to make sense somehow in an instant, a sign that some higher power was in control of my destiny and was going to make all the decisions for me. I was searching for the moment where I would feel that same relief I felt when I realized on Christmas Eve that I wasn’t coming home in February when I was supposed to. It was such a bright and beautiful feeling.

So much has happened since that day, it’s hard to believe it was only a few months ago. It’s funny how when traveling, although we may be visiting a certain place at a slower pace than those who are going for a two-week vacation, we make decisions quicker. I’ve made big decisions more rapidly and with far more conviction than when I was stuck in the day-to-day at home. It’s because I am removed from that routine, and with that comes a far greater perspective, concentration, and clarity. I couldn’t have dreamed my travels would turn out the way that they have so far. And what’s even more scary and beautiful all at the same time is that I’m not even close to finished yet. I suppose that means I still have some more traveling to do – and some more big decisions to make. Stay tuned.


A tapir wandering about the animal conservatory, our last stop before arriving in Pilcopata.

FullSizeRender (40) FullSizeRender (39)

Hoatzin birds at lake Machuwasi.
FullSizeRender (15)
Lake Machuwasi
Paititi Lodge, a 30 minute boat ride from the Port of Atalaya, Manu’s last town accessible by land. Our lodge had a view of the Madre de Dios river, which we used every day to explore deeper into the jungle.

FullSizeRender (38)IMG_9968

We came across fresh jaguar paw prints imprinted into mud on a morning hike.
FullSizeRender (11)
We woke at 5am for a pre-sunrise boat ride along the Madre de Dios River.



Beyond Machu Picchu: Peru Travel Guide

I recently returned from the incredible country of Peru. My mother’s family is from Brasil, and so I’m quite familiar with the largest country in Latin America. However, I wanted to explore another country in South America, and being that Machu Picchu was on my bucket list, I quickly chose Peru as my first venture to the western side of the continent.

I present to you my humble travel guide, based on my first hand experiences there, complete with do’s and don’ts, a sample itinerary, and some tips on how to make the most out of your vacation in Peru. I should note that to avoid writing a book-length post of my advice, I am focusing on specifically the cities I have visited, and I do not get into much detail on activities to do in each city. It is more of a compilation of elements that stuck out that I thought people should be prepared with before they go to Peru. This guide is also geared towards travelers on a budget and who are willing to be more adventurous, backpacker style. However, any visitor to Peru can take bits and pieces from this post.

When to Go: I went during low tourist season, which is from November to March. Even though you risk rains during these months, it’s much less crowded than during high season (June to September). Because I was traveling during low season, I didn’t have to book my hostels, transportation and tours in advance. The only exception was Machu Picchu, which you should book early, as it only allows a certain number of visitors per day, and even earlier for the Inca trail (people have told me they booked the Inca trail 4-6 months in advance).

Getting around: It is far easier and more economical to take the bus when travelling from one city to the next. These busses are not uncomfortable Greyhounds. Rather, the seats can go down as far as 180 degrees, and your ticket includes a meal and drink, a pillow and a blanket. There is wifi on board as well. Cruz del Sur is the one of the highest quality bus companies. Ticket prices range according to route: I took the bus from Lima to Arequipa, which took 16 hours, and it cost me 90 soles ($30). From Puno to Cusco my six-hour bus ride cost 49 soles ($16.50). Flights can cost over 130 dollars during low season, so overnight and day busses are the way to go. When you take a taxi anywhere make sure you find out the standard price to that specific place so you know what you should be paying, or else the taxi driver will overcharge you.

Accommodations: I’m a big fan of hostels; I travel alone and on a budget, and hostels make it easy to meet people from all over the world. At almost all of the hostels breakfast is included, which consists of bread, butter, jam, and tea/coffee.

Food: Peruvians eat very little red meat. Instead, they eat a lot of grains and potatoes. The most common foods I found was chicken, fish, rice, potatoes, tomatoes and lettuce. Almost every meal I’ve had, whether at a local market or a restaurant has been so yummy! The best thing to do for lunch is to order a “menu” at local food spots. For between 8-12 soles ($2.70 – $4), you’ll get a soup, salad, rice, a protein (commonly chicken or fried fish), French fries, and a beverage (usually tea). Common menus include a quarter chicken with rice, French fries, soup, and salad for 10 soles ($3.37). At the local markets you’ll find these menus for even less. The restaurants in Lima and Cusco will be more expensive, but you can always find a local restaurant for all your meals. For a snack there’s fresh juice everywhere, which costs between 5-7 soles ($1.69 – $2.36). A bottle of water is costs between 1.50-3 soles (50 cents to $1). Don’t forget to drink a lot of water, especially when acclimating to the high altitude! Beer costs around 7 soles ($2.36), and the famous Peruvian Pisco sours can range from a cheap 12 soles ($4) to a fancy 22 soles ($7.42).

What to Bring:
Backpack: Visiting Peru is generally more of an adventure and hiking experience. Bring backpackers backpack and not a suitcase You’ll be travelling to a lot of cities and will be trekking, and backpack is so much easier.

-Sunscreen: the higher the altitude the closer you are to the sun, so even if it’s cold you’ll get sunburned.
Bring hiking boots. Almost every ruin or cultural site you go will require good shoes. If you don’t have hiking boots then wear rubber soled sneakers, because in the rain things can be very slippery and dangerous. However, hiking boots are an absolute must if you’re doing Waynapicchu and the Colca Canyon trek.

-Layer Up: The weather varies throughout the day, especially at high altitudes, so layers are key. At one moment you’ll be sweating in the sun, and the next it’ll be cold and windy. My savior for those cold nights and 4000 meters above sea level was my purple Uniqlo puffer jacket, which can be folded into a small little pillow like ball when you’re not using it. I brought that with me everyday wherever I went.

-Pocho: It also rains on and off, especially in Machu Picchu, where the weather is most unpredictable. Bring a small plastic poncho with you when you go hiking.

-Other items: sunglasses, a hat, long pants (preferably the comfortable and breathable hiking type), and warm socks. Having your own towel can be handy on the Inca Trail and the Colca Canyon trek, and some hostels only provide towels for a fee. And bring a lock so you can use it to store valuables at hostels. Most hostels have lockers.

-Rent Gear: You can also rent hiking boots, backpacks, walking poles, and other gear at some hostels or independent shops in Cusco.

People: Peruvians are really friendly and helpful. It does help to speak a little Spanish, however, because many people don’t speak English. It’ll make your life easier if you learned a couple of key Spanish phrases.

Length of Trip: Every time I visit a country I wish I had at least a month. But realistically, I think you need between ten days and two weeks to see Peru. Oftentimes people only make time to see Cusco and Machu Picchu, and these two places will certainly not give you the full experience. My personal itinerary felt rushed, however I did get a chance to see a lot in a short amount of time. Listed below are the places I traveled to, with some notes about each location.

-Lima (2 days, 1 night): One third of Peru’s population of 30 million people lives in Lima. It’s a large city, and one that shouldn’t be skipped. Here is where you splurge on food, as Lima is one of the most famous culinary capitals in North and South America. If there is any one thing to make a priority here it is to try their ceviche. I went to this lovely restaurant for lunch called Punto Azul. Be sure to get there early to avoid the lunch rush! Stay in Miraflores, the nicest neighborhood with the best restaurants and also with the most things to do. You can walk to the cliff overlooking the Pacific Ocean and watch the surfers catch waves down below. If the winds cooperate you can also try parasailing. The most charming neighborhood is Barranco. I recommend walking around during the day to see the contrasting architecture there: a stone house looking like it belongs in the English countryside can neighbor a one story colorful Latin home. The nightlife is also in Barranco, so be sure to head there for some drinks and dancing.

-Arequipa (2 days, 2 nights): Arequipa is a gem. Not as many tourists are familiar with this city, and it was one of my favorite places in Peru. If you’re up for some pre-Machu Picchu hiking, you can do a one, two, or three day trek in the Colca Canyon, which is about three hours outside of Arequipa. You’ll see volcanoes (including an active one), be immersed in the gorgeous Andes Mountains, and you’ll have the chance to see the rare Condor, the largest flying bird in the Western Hempishere. Arequipa and Colca Canyon are higher in altitude than Cusco and Machu Picchu, the top most point hitting about 4000 meters (13,123 feet) so it’s an ideal place to visit before doing the Inca trail so you can become acclimated to the height.

-Puno, Lake Titicaca (1 day, 1 night): If you want to spend more time in Arequipa and you only have a short amount of time, skip Puno. The city itself is not that pretty, and the lake’s floating islands felt very contrived and are quite touristy. But, if you have the time, traveling along Lake Titicaca is a nice experience. Lake Titicaca is occupied by both Peru and Bolivia, and often tourists take a bus from Puno to La Paz if they want to see Bolivia and the Bolivian side of the lake. Many people have told me that Copacabana, on the Bolivian side of Lake Titicaca, is much more beautiful. Puno is even higher in altitude than Arequipa, so it’s another spot to help acclimate you to the height.

-Cusco (3 days, 2 nights): Cusco was the capital of the Incan Empire, and so it’s history and culture is very rich. The city is truly beautiful. It caters heavily to tourists, so be careful to avoid the classic tourist traps and highly priced restaurants. But, I always say that places become tourist destinations for a reason, so do not let the large numbers of tourists prevent you from visiting the city. Definitely take advantage of what’s outside of Cusco. You can take day tours to the outskirts of the city to see Incan ruins, salt mines, and indigenous villages where the people only speak Quechua, the language of the Incas. If you have extra time you can take a multi-day tour to Manu National Park, part of which covers the Peruvian side of the Amazon Rainforest.

-Machu Picchu (1 night, 1 day): I chose stay overnight in Aguas Calientes and do a full day in Machu Picchu. If you want to do the Inca trail, add 3-7 extra days to your itinerary to allow time to do the trail.

Machu Picchu & the Inca Trail:
For those not doing the Inca Trail (which can last between 4 and 7 days), be sure to bring a small backpack, since there are weight limits on the rail line that takes you to Aguas Calientes. Bring just enough for one short overnight stay. There is luggage storage at Machu Picchu if you bring your backpack but don’t want to carry it around amongst the ruins. Buy food before you go up to Machu Picchu, because food there is limited and expensive, and you’ll want to have lots of water and energy bars near you if you get hungry. You’re not supposed to bring food into the ruins so keep it hidden in your bag so no one sees it. And, be sure to bring your original passport.

To really get the full experience at the Machu Picchu site, you most definitely should hike Waynapicchu, and not Machu Picchu Mountain. It really changed my whole experience. But it’s only for those who are physically fit and are not afraid of very steep steps. If you decide to hike up Waynapicchu, you should get the first ticket at 7am. The hike round-trip including photos took about three hours. If you get the later ticket at 10am, it will be very hot and crowded. In order to get there by 7am you’ll have to stay overnight in Aguas Calientes and take the first bus up to the mountain at 5:30am. The bus ride is $10 each way and takes about 20 minutes to get up the entrance of the ruins. Once I finished Waynapicchu I explored the ruins in more detail for the rest of the day, leaving right before close at 4:30pm. By getting there early and staying late you’ll see Machu Picchu with even less crowds, and you’re able to take your time to relax and enjoy the site.

-Cusco (1 night, 1 day): There is so much to do in Cusco itself, so definitely give yourself some time before and after Machu Picchu to explore the city. Cusco is the place to get an inexpensive massage, which I desperately needed after trekking Machu Picchu. A one-hour massage is about 30 soles ($10). I went to a place at 250 Calle Marques that did an amazing job. The San Pedro market is where locals buy their produce and meats and it’s also where you can have a three-course lunch for 4 soles ($1.35), have fresh squeezed juice made from any fruit imaginable, buy coca leaves, teas, and candies, and buy hallucinogens legally such as the San Pedro cactus. Any souvenirs can be bought here for half the price. *A note about coca leaves and hallucinogens: These hallucinogens are deeply rooted in Incan and native indigenous cultures in Peru, and are completely legal to consume in Peru. They are, however, illegal in the United States, and so you’re at risk if you try to bring anything with you back to the USA. More about coca later.

Altitude Sickness: It is very common for visitors to Peru to experience altitude sickness, particularly if they’re not from cities of a very high altitude. People make the mistake of flying directly into Cusco from Lima. If you do this you’re going to get hit hard with a very sudden change in altitude. The best thing to do is to take a bus from any location and acclimate as the car drives higher up the mountains. And, it’s a great way to take you to a different city and acclimate before doing the Inca Trail and hiking Machu Picchu. The first day you’re in a high altitude city such as Arequipa or Cusco, take it easy. You’re not going to feel he difference right away, so even if you do feel fine, take it slow. I advise you to not immediately go walking around and sightseeing, because you’ll need to regulate your breathing. Take some ibuprofen before arriving and every few hours after that. If you think you’ll really get sick, then have a doctor prescribe you Diamox. Some side effects of altitude sickness are lightheadedness, loss of appetite, difficulty sleeping, and nausea. I found that my first couple of days in Arequipa I couldn’t eat as much as I normally did, and I had trouble falling and staying asleep. Definitely try to be in a high altitude for a couple of days to a week before doing Machu Picchu so you’re feeling completely acclimated.

Coca: Locals use a natural remedy for altitude sickness – anything based in coca leaf, most commonly coca tea. Drink endless amounts of this tea when you’re there. Coca is the main ingredient used to make cocaine. But as a plant it is completely natural and safe to consume. The coca candies are a fun thing to chew on when you’re hiking.

DIY or Organized Tours: This is always a personal choice, no matter where in the world you go. I find the best would be a mix of both. Customizing your day-to-day partially doing it on your own and partially with organized tours are also less expensive and although it’s more work to plan everything, it can be very rewarding. The only area where a tour is essential is Machu Picchu, since the number of people allowed into the site each day is limited.

Money: The Peruvian currency is the Nuevo sole (or sole for short). Right now it is about 2.9 soles to the dollar. Things are relatively inexpensive in Peru, especially if you’re not afraid of getting away from the tourist restaurants with English menus and try the local spots. The most expensive parts of your trip will be the entrance fees to the different sites outside of Cusco and the train and entrance fees to Machu Picchu.

Bring Cash in Dollars: Unlike in Europe, where it’s better to use the ATM than to pay high commissions to exchange money, the ATM fees in Peru are really high. Every time you want to withdraw money you pay about 14 soles ($4.72) each time, not including the fees your individual bank will charge you. Either take out what you think you’ll need in one shot, or better yet bring unused US dollars with you to exchange Make sure your bills are clean and crisp because they don’t take torn money at all, even if it’s just a little used or damaged. They are very strict about this.

Shopping: The most typical thing to buy is the 100% alpaca wool scarves, hats, sweaters, and gloves. You’ll also see bags, sweaters, scarves, blankets, baby Llama dolls, keychains, and even sneakers made in the typical Peruvian colors and patterns. Definitely leave some space in your backpack for some purchases. There’s definitely something for everyone, as items range in price according to quality, as you can find a similar scarf made from synthetic materials or from 100% baby alpaca.

A Final Note: Peru is a vibrant country, and you’ll never forget your experience there. Enjoy the wonder of Machu Picchu, but don’t be afraid to venture out and explore other cities, each of which add their own unique element to the Peruvian cultural landscape.