Personal Narrative

The moment we stepped off the plane from Lima and onto Cusco’s high-altitude soil, the city’s lofty elevation—11,152 feet above sea level—hit us like a quiet but firm handshake from the Andes. This wasn’t an unexpected greeting; we’d done our homework. Day one was devoted to adjusting, an intentional and necessary choice when visiting the once-mighty capital of the Incan Empire.

That evening, in the golden hue of twilight, we wandered on a gentle stroll—carefully pacing ourselves in deference to the altitude—toward Chull’s Peruvian Restaurant. Tucked away in a courtyard that seemed as though it had existed forever, the restaurant offered more than just an exceptional meal. It was an introduction, a soft-spoken welcome to Cusco’s rhythm. Every dish was prepared with a care that matched the warmth of the people who served it. It was, we realized, the perfect start, a moment to center ourselves before diving into the richness of what lay ahead.

Our home base, the Tampu Hotel Boutique, proved to be as ideal as we had hoped. It wasn’t just a hotel—it was a sanctuary. Positioned conveniently in the city, it offered a balance of comfort and accessibility. It was the kind of place that allowed you to pause and gather yourself, then step right back into the hum of history unfolding outside its doors.

By the second day, with our lungs better attuned to the mountain air, we set out for Sacsayhuamán. Even in a city brimming with history, this site stands apart. Massive stone blocks, cut and placed with jaw-dropping precision, formed the kind of fortress that speaks of mastery both architectural and philosophical. These walls felt alive with purpose, their silence seeming to hum with stories of a civilization that once thrived here. From this height, we descended back into Cusco’s heart, the Plaza Mayor. The square is a living archive, its architecture a visible collision of two worlds—Incan foundations holding up Spanish colonial facades. The day wound to a satisfying close with dinner at Don Pancho Taberna Peruana, where an unforgettable lomo saltado took center stage, accompanied by yet another variation of causa that we eagerly embraced.

If there was one experience that reshaped our understanding of the Sacred Valley, it was our visit to Awana Kancha. Here, surrounded by the vibrant Andes, we were introduced to more than just history; we stepped into a living, breathing tradition. The four camelid species of the region—llamas, alpacas, guanacos, and the rare vicuñas—wandered nearby, each with its own distinct presence. Artisans showed us how the wool from these animals is spun, dyed, and woven into the intricate textiles that have defined this culture for generations. Watching their hands work was like witnessing a language come to life, every thread carrying meaning, every color born from the earth itself. These weren’t just patterns; they were narratives, tied to the mountains, the seasons, and the spirit of the Andean people.

Cusco itself is, in every sense, a city where history and modernity walk side by side. Its character isn’t just found in its landmarks but in its people, its markets, and the everyday exchanges that weave together its vibrant culture. The streets are a mosaic of influences, where Quechua heritage and Spanish colonial legacy meet in a delicate dance. From sunrise to sunset, Cusco seemed to change with the light, revealing new layers of itself—a living museum in the clearest sense.

Among its many treasures, Qorikancha felt like the ultimate encapsulation of Cusco’s identity. Once the most sacred temple of the Inca Empire, now sharing space with the Church of Santo Domingo, it exists as a physical reminder of resilience, adaptation, and fusion. Walking through its halls, you feel the weight of what has been built, rebuilt, and reimagined over centuries. It’s humbling, really, to stand in a place where two vastly different worldviews are stitched together so permanently.

Everywhere we went, Cusco whispered its stories through cobblestone streets, ancient walls, and the smiles of its people. It wasn’t just a trip; it was a shift in perspective, a journey into the heart of a city where the past and present are so intricately intertwined that they feel inseparable. Few places change you the way Cusco does—its lessons etched into your memory, its spirit carried with you long after you’ve left.