Cusco

The most striking thing about the area around Cusco is the sheer number of archaeological sites. There were so many that, after a while, I could no longer reliably match every ruin to its name.

The Inca used terraces to stabilize steep slopes while expanding the amount of cultivable land. Around Cusco, terraces seem to cover every available mountainside. The region’s large temperature swings mean that elevation can change not only the temperature but, at times, the growing conditions themselves, allowing different crops to thrive at different levels. The circular terraces below were described to me as an experimental site used to learn what should be planted at each elevation.

Nearby, mineral-rich spring water feeds a vast complex of salt pans. The water is diverted through many levels of shallow terraces and left to evaporate in the sun. The site has a long history, but it is not simply a preserved relic: people were still actively harvesting salt when I visited.

The road between these sites offered its own memorable landscapes.

I joined several different full-day and half-day tours during this stretch of the journey. Beyond the sites themselves, the conversations gave me a broader sense of the country—and perhaps a clearer idea of why I travel in the first place.

One recurring subject was Peru’s long history of movement between continents. Spanish colonial rule is the obvious background, but several of my guides had much more recent European ties: a parent or grandparent from Europe, or a childhood spent there. International families seemed ordinary rather than exceptional. That felt different from much of East Asia, including China, Japan, and South Korea, where cross-cultural marriage is still more likely to be treated as something remarkable.

I was equally impressed by how many languages people moved between. My sample was admittedly biased—guides are more likely than most people to be multilingual—but it extended beyond the tourism professionals. A shopkeeper in Cusco often spoke useful English in addition to Spanish, while many people in the region grew up speaking Quechua. Three languages could feel like a practical baseline. In China, fluent English alone is often considered an accomplishment; adding a third language draws real admiration.

The European travelers on my tours reinforced the point. One day, two Italians arrived speaking neither Spanish nor English, apparently trusting that Italian and Spanish were close enough to get them through Peru. When the guide struggled to communicate with them, another traveler simply stepped forward: he spoke both languages and could interpret. The problem disappeared almost immediately.

Not every guide, of course, was comfortable in English. A few had memorized the specialized vocabulary needed for their work but had difficulty building a complete sentence beyond it. They spoke in fragments, sometimes mixing in Spanish words. Because I know a little Spanish, I could recognize what was happening, but following the explanation was still difficult. A native English speaker might have filled in the gaps; I could not always do so. It was a humbling reminder that my own English still has room to improve.

With that, my time around Cusco came to an end. Machu Picchu was next.