Paracas

We’ve Gone Coastal

The pisco sour tour is on a temporary hiatus as we’ve made our way to the coast.

A four-hour bus ride carried us from Lima to the lively seaside town of Paracas. Imagine Virginia Beach meets Ucluelet: a blend of commercial boardwalk energy and laid-back eco-tourism. Somehow, it balances both without feeling tacky or overwhelming.

As is tradition, our first order of business was food and drink. On our hotel owner’s recommendation, we headed to Nautilus Restobar on the boardwalk to pass the time before check-in.

One thing Peru does not do is skimp on portion sizes. If you’re paying 40 SOL (about $18 CAD) for a meal, you’re getting 40 SOL worth of food. At Nautilus, that meant warm roasted corn, fresh limonada, and more chicken milanese (we promise to be more adventurous soon).

After lunch, we strolled the boardwalk, doing our best to politely deflect the steady stream of vendors and restaurant hostesses. Jake has perfected the polite dismissive wave and firm “no, gracias.”

On one side of the boardwalk, there are dozens of restaurants neighbouring one another, and on the other, there is a whole bay full of fishing and tour boats. I wouldn’t call the bay a marina, largely because these boats aren’t docked to anything and God only knows how some of them still run, but it does smell like a marina with the incoming freshly caught fish and salty water mingling in the air.

At the end of the boardwalk, there’s a sprawling outdoor market selling beachwear and handmade shell jewelry crafted from treasures pulled straight from the shore.

Once sufficiently sun-soaked and sweaty, we retreated to our hotel for (yes) another nap. We stayed at Paracas Guest House, ideally situated just outside the boardwalk chaos but conveniently next to a gas station and small grocery store. As a bonus, it has a small pool that was located right outside of our room and provided us with a lovely reprieve from the blistering heat.

By sunset, we wandered back to the boardwalk, and it had completely transformed.

Stalls we’d passed earlier now glowed under string lights. Barbecues sizzled with skewers of meat and vegetables. Neon-lit cocktail stands advertised happy hour and blasted music into the night air. It felt like stepping into our own miniature carnaval.

We shared peach and pineapple pizza (11/10, no notes) and sipped Pilsen mixed with limonada until sleep called us home.

Day Two

The next morning, we headed out to explore the Ballestas Islands and Paracas National Reserve.

We had booked our tour in advance, though after our experience, I’d recommend arranging it once you’re there so you can get a feel for the operator. Our morning began with a slightly chaotic shuffle: an unexplained detour to pay an additional fee, a quick ticket exchange, and a swift ushering onto a boat. Our guide told us to meet her back at the original spot upon return and then disappeared. Confusing? Yes. Effective? Also yes. We were on a boat and heading out to sea.

Within minutes, we reached the Candelabro de Paracas, a 170-metre prehistoric geoglyph etched into the petrified sand of the peninsula. Believed to date back as early as 200 BCE, its purpose remains a mystery. From the water, it looked like Poseidon’s trident carved into the hillside. Low-hanging fog added an eerie mystique to the scene.

Then we sped off through the mist (only mildly terrifying) toward the islands. You could hear the sea lions that we approached before you could see them. Dozens sprawled across rocky coves in the famous Ballestas Islands, inch-worming along pebbled shores and launching themselves dramatically into the water. It was the tail end of mating season, and clusters of pups huddled behind the largest adults for protection.

Among the islands, we skipped over crystal-blue waters that exposed shallow rocky water below. Rock walls and arches extended in every direction around us, with a variety of birds perched upon their ledges. We were told we would see ‘boobies’ on this tour, for which Jake and I did not know what to expect, and were relieved to discover it was in fact a blue-footed bird native to Peru. We also spotted cormorants with vivid red feet and a handful of other birds I couldn’t confidently name. Penguins sometimes make appearances here, but on this particular day, they remained elusive.

Eventually, we passed by the famous elephant arch and the guide told us about the park rangers who are the only human inhabitants of the island. We passed men in scuba gear hunting for fish to make fresh ceviche and strolled our way back to Paracas. It was a beautiful little tour, but I would recommend going in the afternoon. Before the heat truly settles in, heavy fog sits low on the horizon, making much of the sights we saw hazy and difficult to fully appreciate. If you do go in the morning, it is still beautiful, especially if you have a patient boat driver. The fog comes and goes as quickly as the tide, so there are windows of clarity.

After the boat tour, we had an hour to grab some sandwiches at Jaku Cafe and frozen limonada. We gobbled them up quickly and went to meet the tour guide for another unexplained hustle through the streets of Paracas before she dropped us off at yet another random building. Fortunately, the staff there took the time to explain that we were meeting to get a bus which would take us to the Paracas National Reserve.

While waiting, we met a lovely Australian couple finishing a South American cruise. Paracas was their final stop before returning to Lima. It’s always fun to swap stories with fellow travellers.

Paracas National Reserve looks like a Mad Max film set on steroids. It’s one of the driest deserts in the world, receiving just 2–6mm of rainfall annually. The sparse buildings are painted rusty red, blending almost seamlessly into the Martian landscape.

Our guide graciously walked us through each viewpoint in both Spanish and English. Towering cliffs plunged into the sea, rivaling the dramatic coastlines of Western Canada. One famous formation, La Catedral, partially collapsed during a 2007 earthquake. What remains still juts defiantly from the ocean, continuing to stand tall despite its missing link to the mainland.

We also got to see some beautiful beaches. Since the Reserve is protected land, there are only a handful of designated swimming beaches. Our guide told us that school is out for the summer, explaining the many families we observed dousing themselves in sunscreen and making the climb down to the gorgeous beaches on a random weekday.

We didn’t packed swimsuits (rookie mistake, 10/10 would recommend), so instead we wandered along the coastline while the rest of our tour group dipped their toes. As the crowds dissipated, we saw small yellow lizards with black stripes sneaking out of the sandy and rocky knolls along the coast. At first there was one. Then several. They hobbled along cautiously, tongues picking up anything on the ground that seemed edible.

Our last stop on the tour was at a small gathering of restaurants by a marina where they served fresh fish and cold drinks. Jake and I shared a sea bass fillet and sipped on Inka Cola while we chatted about how amazing it was to be here.

Back in town, we spent the remainder of the afternoon floating in the hotel pool before heading out for one last dinner along the boardwalk. We shared fish chicharrón and soaked in our final night in this coastal paradise.