Peruguy-s | Account

Day of the Dead. Went to the cemetery in Ayacucho. A mariachi played Contigo Perú while a family painted their abuelo’s tombstone. I cried into my pan de muerto .

This account isn’t just a travel log. It’s a ledger. A confession. A love letter to the land of the Incas. I landed in Lima on a cold June morning with zero Spanish, a broken suitcase, and a Lonely Planet that was already three years out of date. My plan was simple: stay two weeks, see Machu Picchu, go home. PeruGuy-s Account

But if you open an account here—if you deposit your patience, your curiosity, and your appetite—the interest rate is infinite. Day of the Dead

Somewhere between getting lost in the San Pedro Market in Cusco and watching the sunrise over the Rainbow Mountain, I realized I wasn't a tourist anymore. I was a resident of the magic. I cried into my pan de muerto

Next week: “Why I spent $200 on alpaca sweaters and don’t regret a single sol.” ¡Hasta luego, causita!

That was six years ago.

Ask me anything. Where to get the best jugo de aguaje in Iquitos? Done. How to avoid altitude sickness without spending $40 on Diamox? Drink the coca tea, don't be a hero.