It has been a LONG time since I’ve written a travel blog, so I’m excited to bring you new, world-traveling content this week (and next!). My original plan was to split this blog into two: one where I talked about all of the positives about traveling, getting away with friends, exploring new places, seeing amazing scenery, eating local delicacies, etc., and one where I talked about the difficult co-existing emotions of going on a trip during this #veryhardyear. Then, I was chatting with one of my loss-mom internet friends and she said it was inspiring to see me “finding joy amongst the griefyness,” and that’s why I decided to write this instead as a fully integrated post. The good, the fun, the sad, and the complicated. However, a 2-in-1 post means this one is a pretty lengthy, so strap in. It’ll be posted in two installments, but stay tuned, I included pictures.
Let’s start at the top. Many months ago, my therapist asked me what used to bring me joy so I could try to find it again. I could barely remember, but I told her I guessed it was traveling with friends. She suggested I start small, like a brunch. But I didn’t want to go to brunch, and I didn’t want to see my friends.
In my past life, I traveled in the early autumn every year because I always had extra time off from work. 4 months ago, when I realized I wouldn’t be tied down with a baby this season, and when I realized I’d have three friends having babies in September (blog about this coming soon), I requested a week off from work mid-September. My time-off request was approved. A group of my friends started talking about possible places to go. My therapist was so proud of me. Many, many messages and ideas were sent back and forth. Then in July, I fell off the face of the earth. I deleted my social media and I stopped answering any texts. The trip planning ceased, at least on my end. I couldn’t think in advance even one day, nonetheless a few months ahead, and I couldn’t fathom booking activities when I was just trying to get through the current hour.
Then in August, since I hadn’t been on any group chats, I fired up a group message via text and asked if anyone was still up for going on a trip. I was honest about my lack of planning abilities. I said I’d still be down to travel, but that I just needed someone to tell me where to book a flight and that I’d be mostly useless on planning. Ideal travel buddy, right? Thankfully, my friend stepped up and suggested Peru. It seemed like the ideal location because there were nonstop flights from NY and FL and only a one hour time difference, which was great since we had about 9 days total and didn’t want to deal with jetlag. My friends booked flights. I couldn’t get my act together until the next day, when flights went up $150 but it is what it is. It’s just money #thingsprivilegedpeoplesay.
Anyway, we settled on Peru and we started planning. By “we” I mean, not me. My main contribution was asking other people for Peru recommendations and throwing them in a google doc. The one thing I did was book us an Airbnb for Lima. My friend liaised with a travel group in Cusco and did the extremely heavy lift of coordinating everything with the travel agency. The agency took care of everything from tours, airport pickups, train and hotel reservations, and anything else we could have wanted, like advice on how much to tip drivers. Did I mention this was all done 3 weeks in advance? We had extremely low expectations given that this was a slapdash, last-minute trip, and we were all extremely pleasantly surprised.
Our trip started with three girls (including me) in Lima, and we had zero plans. We had a few lazy days exploring the city. We slept in, left the Airbnb around 11 am, got iced lattes, and went on a few free walking tours. We explored the Huaca Pucllana pre-Incan ruins that are right in the middle of the city. We also did some solo exploring, first at the nearby John F. Kennedy Park. The strangest thing about this park is not that it is named for a US President, but that it houses hundreds of stray cats. One of the friends I was with is obsessed with cats, so of course me made multiple visits to the park. These are not just dirty street bodega cats, thankfully. There is an association, Gatos Parque Kennedy, that cares for, feeds, and provides sterilization for the cats living in the park. There’s even an adoption process in case someone wants to take one home. I don’t think you’re allowed to transport cats across the border, otherwise my friend may have tried to smuggle one home (she did not).
We went on a tour of the historic city including the Gran Hotel Bolívar, the Plaza de Armas, the House of Peruvian Literature, and the Santo Domingo Church. At one point, we passed a woman dressed as a zombie bride holding a dead bloody baby, and she had 3 other bloody babies at her feet. I’m not sure if anyone else on the tour noticed her, but I did. At first, I thought I was making it up so I brought it to my friend’s attention. I said “do you see all those bloody babies?” It was not in my head, they were indeed there, but they were dolls. At another point we went into the Church of San Francisco, where our tour guide said “see all those little toy cars by the statue of Jesus? Each one was put there by a parent for their dead child. Ok! Let’s move on.” He was a fast-moving guide. It took me a few moments to shift gears.
We ended the tour with a Pisco tasting in a souvenir shop, where we tried 8 types of Pisco, and then we were hustled into buying souvenirs (we got adorable pom pom hair ties).
The next day, we went on a free walking tour of Barranco, which started out with a bang because we had to take a local bus there with the tour guide. We were surprised to find out that the buses do not actually stop at stops, but instead just open their doors while moving and expect you to jump out. What an adventure. Thankfully we all survived.
Barranco is known as the artsy neighborhood of Lima filled with murals, street art, and lots of great local food. In Barranco, you can also find the famous Bridge of Sighs, where legend has it, if you’re able to walk across the bridge while holding your breath, your wish will come true. I won’t tell you my wish, but I bet you can guess.
Throughout my trip to Peru, you’ll see that eating was a main theme. Lima has become a bit of a food destination, and it’s often called South America’s culinary capital. While we didn’t do any of our fancy eating until the last few days of the trip (stay tuned!), we did a good amount of eating throughout the trip. On the front end of the trip, we ate a lot of street food. I was thrilled to be traveling with fellow adventurous eaters, so we tried and shared a lot of Peruvian delicacies, starting with antichuchos (beef heart). We also tried a classic dessert called picarones, aniseed-flavoured doughnuts with mashed squash. We bought a caramel-filled churro from the street, as well as an ice-cream-looking cone, but it was more like marshmallow fluff? Later in Cusco, we tried alpaca and guinea pig (I’ll save you the pictures). Alpaca tasted like bison, guinea pig was a little bit like rabbit. We knew we had to try the classic rotisserie chicken, but since we like to go big or go home, we went to a chicken place and got chicken three different ways. All three were amazing. We also sampled Inca Cola, which I hated, but I don’t like soda so I wasn’t surprised.
In between our eating, we got our steps in by exploring the city. We walked to the shoreline along El Malecon, a cliffside walking path. There’s a mall there as well, called Larcomar. We walked around and chatted while we sat on a bench and were approached by many locals who wanted to practice their English (and ask us for money). It was beautiful and peaceful. There was also a “Love Park,” which was dedicated on Valentine’s Day. It features a massive sculpture of two people embracing, and it’s surrounded by mosaics with romantic lines from Peruvian poems.
On our final day in Lima we decided to book an excursion to the Palomino Islands. According to TripAdvisor, they promised we would see Humboldt penguins and sea lions, and that we’d get wet suits and have the opportunity hop in and swim with them. The reviews were less stellar. Most of the recent reviews said that the sea lions were extremely stinky, and that the water was too cold and the sea lions wouldn’t get in. We decided it was worth a try anyway. I don’t know why, but I expected we’d see maybe 10-15 sea lions. I am not exaggerating when I say there were THOUSANDS. I’ve never seen anything like this in my life. We donned our wetsuits and were told to put our feet up in front of us to show the sea lions we were not aggressive. Soon enough, the sea lions were hopping into the water off the rocks and swimming all around us. It was absolutely breathtaking, and not just because they were smelly (they were). Our guide had goggles he passed around, and when I looked under water, they were all around us. Hundreds of them were swimming below and alongside us. It was insane. Truly one of the coolest experiences I’ve ever had. In theory, sea lions sometimes come up to you and kiss/lick your feet, but none of them did this to me. I was a little disappointed but also relieved because they are HUGE up close and intimidating. It was a real adrenaline rush.
In our $2 Uber back to our Airbnb to shower off the sea lion smell, I couldn’t stop thinking about how amazing the experience was, and I started getting soooo sad. My thought process went like this: “wow that was the coolest experience ever. I can’t believe I got to do that. I wish I hadn’t been able to do that. No, that’s not true, I’m really glad I got to do that. I had so much fun. I wish I hadn’t had fun. No that’s not true. I’m glad I had fun. But I wish I had a living child instead. If I had a baby, I wouldn’t have been able to do that. I’d rather have a baby. But I don’t get to choose. I wish I could choose. Why don’t I get to choose? Everything is so unfair. Why am I upset every time I’m happy? Why am I like this? Why can’t I just be happy? I hate who I am now. I don’t want this life.” Etc. etc. in circles. It’s really frustrating to be mad at myself every time I’m happy. Some may call this survivor’s guilt, but it isn’t really guilt. It’s more like a consolation prize. I’m happy I got a prize, but it pales in comparison to the real prize, the one I really wanted. And if I had a choice, I’d give up the consolation prize in a split second for the real prize. But I don’t get to choose, and that just fucking sucks. This was the first of many times during this trip that these spiraling thoughts happened to me.
There were many nights where I cried myself to sleep, but I am a pretty quiet crier, and I think mostly no one noticed even though I was sharing a room. Mornings used to be hard, back when I’d first wake up and realize my life wasn’t all a bad dream. But now, nights are the hardest, especially when I’m away from Chris, the one person who I feel truly understands what we have been through. Even he doesn’t always understand how I feel, but he understands best.
As we prepared to go to Cusco, which is approximately 11,500 feet above sea level, we were told to buy altitude sickness medication from a pharmacy and to start taking it one day before arrival. Since Manhattan is about 250 feet above sea level, I thought it would be smart to be prepared. However, as I googled the side effects, I realized that there may be some contraindications with my blood pressure medications I’ve been on since my pregnancy. I scrambled to message two of my doctors and hoped they would write me back. Thankfully they both did, but one of them recommended I down-dose my other meds, depending on what my blood pressure was reading at high altitude. I probably should have brought a monitor, but I didn’t. I spent the next 4 days worried I’d pass out in the street and end up in a Peruvian hospital. Thankfully, that did not happen, but the constant low-grade anxiety was not ideal. These are all just fun continuing repercussions of having a dead daughter, I guess.
The next morning, after taking two doses of altitude meds, we headed to the Lima airport to take a short, 80-minute flight to Cusco, where we would meet our fourth friend and begin our hiking adventures. Don’t get it twisted, we did not do the Inca Trail 4-day hike, we took a train to Machu Picchu. But we did do a good amount of walking and stairs over the next few days. We saw some of the most amazing landscapes I’ve seen in my life. I don’t usually go for blog post cliffhangers, but this one is already long, so get ready for Cusco and Sacred Valley adventures next week!
