Author: Bob Benz

Wes and I both were nursing pisco hangovers during our early morning flight from Lima to Cusco, but even the misery of being crammed into microscopic coach seats couldn’t dim the beauty of seeing the snow-capped Andes peek through the clouds as we began our descent into Cusco.

Once we dropped beneath the clouds, we saw the airport’s runways stretched out in the valley, hemmed in by incredible peaks. After the pilot landed the plane, the cabin broke out in polite applause, as if a symphony had just concluded.

Several of the guide books I consulted were decidedly down on Lima. Big. Polluted. Noisy.

All true, but it definitely has its positives. The Miraflores and San Isidro sections are beautiful and very livable, and even the grittier areas have a certain charm. Of course, I like sprawling, honking, sweaty cities. And Lima fits the bill.

Drivers here are conquistadores of the carretera, and their bleating horns practically dare you to step in front of them. It’s such a contrast to rural parts of Jamaica and Peru’s Sacred Valley, where the horn is more a conversational tool. ‘I’m passing you.’ ‘Coming up behind you, heads-up.’ ‘Step aside, wayward llama.’ There’s no real aggression there. Just information. Not so in Lima …

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