I went to the overlooked country with trendy neighbourhoods, super cheap street food & Lord of the Rings epic landscapes
“DON’T go cheating!” the bartender tells me after I sloshed a bit too much vodka in the cocktail mixer.
He was right — my pisco sour ends up being more punchy than I’d planned.
I’m not sure I’ll be working as a bartender in Lima any time soon.
Thankfully the city has more than enough of them, with the Peruvian capital often named a top food and drink destination.
The place may be nicknamed Lima La Gris (from the large grey clouds that frequent the sky) but the city is certainly colourful when it comes to both gastronomy and architecture.
One of its brightest districts is the vibrant and noisy Barranco.
Often referred to as among the world’s coolest neighbourhoods, the bohemian area is popular with surfers heading to the beach and art lovers adding to the hundreds of muralled walls.
Walking down the street is a feast for the eyes with men playing guitars outside multi-coloured houses, while cyclists zoom past with wetsuits on.
With more than 200 pieces of artwork across the neighbourhood, it feels more like an open-air art gallery.
And the city is fast making a name for itself when it comes to food, with many award-winning restaurants also found here.
One of those is Mayta, a World’s 50 Best Restaurants winner in Miraflores, made up of structured wood and concrete blocks.
While the seven-course tasting menu was tempting, I didn’t have four hours to kill, so opted for the à la carte.
I started with the fresh and zingy limey ceviche before I filled up on their take on paella with a crispy rice parcel surrounding shrimp.
For something a little more wallet-friendly, in the Miraflores neighbourhood, I found Parque Kennedy, known for its huge number of street vendors selling cheap snacks.
For around a fiver, my hands were quickly filled with herbal “emoliente” drinks that stave off hangovers, picarones (sweet doughnuts made of squash) with honey and chicharron pork sandwiches.
Peruvians love massive portions, I soon found out. And I was told that the best way to work off all the food would be to hit the waves, of course.
But with my surf skills lacking, I instead opted for a bike tour of the city, taking in the spectacular coastline, as well as the famous Love Park.
Inspired by Catalan architect Antoni Gaudi, sculptor Víctor Delfín built a wall of tiles, surrounding the famous El Beso sculpture of couples embracing.
Peru’s huge exports of coffee and chocolate mean you can barely walk five minutes without spotting a chocolataria.
As a self-professed choc expert, I was extremely smug after one cocoa class, naming all of the regions I tasted correctly.
A few hours away, Peru’s tiny second city of Arequipa, in the shade of the Misti volcano, is even more overlooked than Lima, yet the food is just as incredible.
My favourite way to spend the morning was jogging in the main central square, watching the sunrise over the Basilica Cathedral of Arequipa.
That running was preparing my body for yet more fantastic restaurants.
There was the vibey 13 Monjas (13monjas.com), with huge portions of Peruvian inspired pasta and Chica (chicha.com.pe) with yet more huge portions of fish tacos.
Yet there was one thing missing from my trip to Peru so far — and that was a cuddle with a llama.
Leaving the cosmopolitan cities, I went in search of the fluffy animals through the Colca Canyon region.
We sped through arid deserts, barely seeing a soul, bar a few locals by an abandoned train track.
Ears popped as we climbed the mountains across Lord Of The Rings-esque epic landscapes.
I was warned to expect some altitude sickness and I was certainly unsteady on my feet as we hit 4,900 metres.
It’s a few hours into my journey that I gasp as I finally see them — a traffic jam of wild llamas and alpacas.
Lazily grazing on the side of the road like oversized sheep, they seemed non-plussed as they sauntered over the road in front of us.
But just seeing them wasn’t enough for me. I wanted to get up close and personal.
Our abode for the night was in the village of Sibayo with a local family who had lived in the area for generations.
It was here that we were joined by a farmer, who excitingly told us we would be going on a llama walk.
It was only as we got up close that I realised quite how tall they were, some towering over my mere 5ft 5in height.
But my excitement never dwindled.
We walked across the beautiful river as they followed me like I was their leader.
I couldn’t resist a ruffle of their heads, with their ears cutely flipping up whenever we stopped.
Returning to our lodges, the evening was spent learning how to knit and dance.
The warm hospitality was evident throughout the stay, with free bracelets and shots of alcohol while listening to music and even a hot breakfast bag before leaving.
By the end of our stay, there were hugs all around, with our guide telling us how he always feels sad saying goodbye to tourists.
A feeling that is mutual it seems from the full guestbook of goodbyes.
I wasn’t ready to return to cold England that’s for sure – but a bag full of local coffee and alpaca socks certainly helped.
