Diaries, Travel
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Solo Travel Diaries: Paracas


I’ve loved sharing my trip to Peru on ‘NAPW and one of the reasons is that it brought me back to that love of traveling alone. As you can tell, I travel quite frequently, and I am a huge advocate of women travelling solo; my most life-changing trips have been solo. However, traveling so much for work and making friends around the globe, I find my truly solo trips a little bit further between than I’d like. Either I’m visiting friends in a place I know quite well already (but there are always new things to see!) like Sayulita or London, I’m on a press trip, or exploring new places with other travel-bug friends, or my favorite travel buddy, my mum.

Freya Stark Quote



That was how I felt about Peru, after almost two weeks of an amazing press trip in Colombia, I was ready for some alone time exploring a new city, new place. Yes, I was coming for my friend Courtney’s wedding, but besides a few wedding activities on two days, I was untethered, no obligations — in fact the one obligation I had, I cancelled! Of course, I met G on my first full day in Lima, but Paracas I was all slated to be flying solo. Maybe I’d try parasailing, sandsurfing?

I got into the town on a lazy afternoon mid-week after a 4 hour drive with Cabify. I walked through the town, dined on delicious fresh fish with my kindle as my companion. Paracas is a tiny port town, and the beach is so so but the sunsets are incredible.


The next day I rented a bike and explored the national reserve.

Kilometers of sands shaded purple and tan. A beautiful bird sanctuary. Biking for at least 1/2 hr before I saw another person. That’s what I found in the National Reserve. Not sure of the way to the beach, whipping winds and dunes that looked like mountains, I started off relaxed and in awe of all of the dunes and just space. A car drove by here and there, but no other bicyclist. I looked at my waning water bottle and the afternoon sun…. Was this a really stupid mission? But I did have service! I turned on Periscope for some companionship, hoping that my mom wouldn’t come on and see that I’m wandering in a desert in South America alone.

Finally I made it to a rest stop and small museum where two older Peruvian women seemed enamored by me and at the same time amused by my fool-hearty endeavor. Saying I was American and from New York it made more sense to them. Oh gosh, I’m that American. Patagonia fleece wearing, always trying to do something extreme. Maybe I looked frazzled. Maybe it was my wind-swept hair or sweat stains, but they simply smiled, offered me jello and a bottle of water (wouldn’t accept payment) and offered me a seat next to them. Gracias and refreshed I continued on my journey. The beach was waiting.

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