Hooray for Huaraz, says the Lazy, Solo Traveler

For the last few months in Lima, I’ve been experiencing China withdrawal. My tastebuds missing the hotpots of Yunnan, my thighs missing the squatty toilets, my lungs missing the majestic hikes of Dali’s Cangshan Mountain, my brain craving the caffeine of the local teas and coffees.

Which is how I ended up in Hauraz, Peru, without a hair tie.

For those of you who stumbled upon this blog, I moved to Peru from China unexpectedly in January, having no idea what to except other than a school issued iPad. Before I made the move, I googled Lima, reading a myriad of posts more terrifying than a Stephen King novel. They warned of danger lurking everywhere. Kujo dogs. Pick Pocketers. Mysterious men in bars who would slip poison in your drink and steal your kidney.

Please.

In reality, Lima is a replica of Chicago but with more dog poop.

Anyway, before I started to grade papers for nine months, I wanted to visit somewhere in Peru other than Machu Pichu. Somewhere less crowded, where they didn’t speak Starbucks, a place that would take your breath away. The place I landed was Huaraz, the Kathmandu of the Northern Andes, and the handle of so many bucket lists.

I booked a bus ticket on a Cruz Del Sur from Lima to Huaraz not knowing what to expect when I’d disembark eight-hours later. Cruz Del Sur buses are safe and clean, something that’s important when you are traveling alone and haven’t been practicing Spanish on your Duolingo App.

Not knowing where to stay, I selected a Selina hotel, a Bohemian chain that makes me feel hip and cool, even though I’m a baby boomer with sagging boom. The hotel gives you a funky bracelet to keep track of guests, just like when you go to Disneyworld to get on all of the rides. But trust me, the Selina bracelet is cooler.  The lobby buzzes with backpackers from every corner of the world. All dusty, sunburnt, jet-lagged, and blistered. All sharing tips.

There are many hikes recommended in Huaraz, but the one requiring the biggest kahonas is Laguna 69. Since I’m not part mountain goat and my name isn’t Edmund Hillary, this muy difícil hike wasn’t on my itinerary. Laguna 69 has kicked the butt of a few friends of mine who aren’t used to getting their butts kicked, because well, they are part mountain goat. Anyway, those who did dare 69 had the same advice: give your body a few days to acclimate to the anorexic oxygen level and be sure to eat your Wheaties.

Being lazy me, I didn’t attempt any butt-kicking hikes in Huaraz. I just wanted to sit on what others wanted kick. I signed up for a group tour offered by the hotel. The tour was supposed to go to the Chavín de Huántar, an archeological site that predates Machu Pichu.

But I never got there.

Why? I boarded the wrong bus and ended at Huascarán National Park instead.

And to be honest? This sit-on-your butt tour of Huascarán National Park suited me just fine. We meandered around this beautiful lake for a few hours and took a lot of selfies.

The bus/van ride to the Huascaran National Park from Huaraz is bumpy two hours, so I only went there one day. I hung out Huaraz, the vibe of the city reminding me of Sapa, Vietnam fused with rugged patches of Yunnan, China. Lots of dust, lots of local food, lots of folks who can go a whole decade without glancing at their phone.  

I was charmed by the multiple women on the streets with knitting needles, making hats, sweaters, leg warmers, and gloves, a whole lot nicer than what I made back in 4-H. The woman below tried to sell me some of the green grassy stuff in the wheelbarrow. It is used in a local Cuy or Guinea Pig recipe. If you’re upset about people eating what you consider a childhood pet, don’t read my posts about places that eat dog.

Back in Huaraz, the only hike I ended up doing was Mirador De Rataquenua. Jesus wasn’t home, but his cross was there. The views are great, and the hike to the lookout point is the equivalent to forty-five minutes on a step-machine, with the resistance dial turned up a little.

All in all, I felt safe in Huaraz except for a run-in with a few dogs. They seemed to be all bark and no bite, just sick of tourists in their neighborhoods.  

After four days, I returned to Lima on a night bus. The descending ride down the mountains was like a Tilta-whirl carnival ride so I made double sure I buckled my seatbelt.  Using the on-board restroom took lots of care, even with the “granny-handles”. Folks of all ages grab these things while doing their business.

So what’s the verdict?

If you are a solo traveler heading to Huaraz itching to hike, don’t do it alone. Hire a private guide or be the third wheel on a team of hikers. If not, just sit around and eat things you can’t find at Costco. I travel alone BUT I won’t hike solo in South America because I’ve seen too many episodes about Narcos. You don’t want to be on a bucket list destination and uh, kick it.