July 15th. Leaving Huaraz, we continued south on the 3N. The road was in terrible condition—100+ kilometers of potholes in every shape, size, and depth. Tim had Bruce swerving like she was on roller-skates, making for painfully slow progress. As the sun began to set, visibility became even more of a challenge. Eventually, we’d had enough and pulled off into the vast grasslands to find a wild camp for the night. The wind was sharp and cold, dragging the temperature well below freezing overnight. We were up early and rolling again by 7:30 a.m., only to make it 5 km before being stopped by “road works.” Third in line, we likely missed the cutoff by mere minutes—and ended up sitting there for two and a half hours.
paramonga
Turning off the 3N, on to the 16, we descended 4,000 meters to the town of Paramonga on the coast. In need of supplies, we ducked town to restock the pantry. Paramonga is just another scruffy coastal city with little to offer. Time slipped away from us, as it tends to do, so we decided to spend the night at a camp listed on iOverlander there. Fortunately for us, it turned out to be a tidy, clean, well-kept motel-style spot run by an elderly man in his 80s—older even than my dad, who’s 81 years young! Behind tall walls, we relaxed for the night with a long, hot shower and a solid sleep.
July 16th. We’re in the dry season now, which also happens to be the coldest time of year. Even at sea level, the nighttime temperatures drop to near freezing. Just an hour down the road we made a detour up to the Supe Valley to check out the recently found, 30 yrs, lost city of Caral.
Drying Pimento & Corn on the roadside.
ancient city of caral
July 16th. The ancient city of Caral, is considered to be the oldest known civilization in the Americas, dating back over 5,000 years!! Built around 2600 BC, Caral flourished at the same time as Mesopotamia and Egypt. Spanning more than 150 acres, the site features six large pyramids, sunken circular plazas, temples, and residential areas. All remarkably well-preserved thanks to the dry desert climate. Caral had sophisticated urban planning with irrigation systems. There’s evidence of long-distance trade, indicating a highly organized society. Notably, no weapons or signs of warfare have been found, suggesting a peaceful culture rooted in agriculture, religion, and commerce. Its discovery has reshaped our understanding of early civilization in the Americas.
We joined a tour in English and spent an hour and a half walking through the site, guided by a passionate local archaeologist who brought the ruins to life. As we wandered between pyramids, circular plazas, and ceremonial platforms, we learned about the complex and peaceful society that once thrived here—farmers, builders, astronomers, and traders who lived in harmony with their environment. Our guide explained how the city’s decline was likely linked to climate change and shifts in river patterns that made agriculture unsustainable. Beyond Caral itself, the Supe Valley is dotted with dozens of other archaeological sites, some older, many still untouched. Excavations are just beginning to uncover the scale of this civilization, hinting at a vast, interconnected culture that once flourished all along the valley and coast.
Lima
July 17th. Back out to the coast road we continue heading South. Inching closer to Lima, we could see the marine fog layer creep over the city. Reaching the city outer limits by mid-afternoon, meant traffic. Taking us another 3–4 hours to crawl our way through. Since we only planned to spend one day in Lima, we detoured along the waterfront to take in what sights we could. At some stage Google Maps decided to get a little creative, directing us off the main roads and down narrow lanes Bruce couldn’t squeeze through. A navigational error on my part—I should’ve known better than to trust Google!
We finally rolled into our ‘campground’ at 9:30 p.m. Hardly a campground, more like an empty lot beside a lady’s house in a gated beachside community, 30 minutes outside the city. But beggars can’t be choosers, and we needed somewhere safe to sleep. She’s making a tidy cash living out of the beach carpark. Morning dawned grey and overcast, the sky a flat blanket of cloud.
historico centro
Taking an Uber into the city at 9 a.m., heading first to the Centro Histórico and the main square, surrounded by grand colonial buildings and a heavy police presence. We strolled the pedestrian streets, enjoying the quiet of an early morning before most shops had opened. At noon, we stopped to watch the ceremonial changing of the guard. As we waited, we were surrounded by dozens of school kids—Charley’s age—on a field trip. They were full of questions, asked to take photos with her, and even collected her signature. It was really sweet. At the stroke of noon, soldiers in full regalia marched to a ten-piece band, performing the changing of the guard with humour and precision.
china town
We had a hankering for Chinese food, so we headed into Chinatown. ChatGPT recommended a popular spot, and sure enough, there was a queue outside. It moved quickly, and though we weren’t entirely sure what we ordered, as the translation didn’t really make sense, but everything that arrived was delicious. Afterwards, we wandered through the organized chaos of the market. Picked up a couple of items at great prices and had fun just looking at everything. Suddenly it was 5 p.m.—time to head back across town.
miraflores
Another Uber took us to Miraflores, a safer neighborhood to explore after dark. We stopped at the Birkenstock store to grab new sandals for Tim and I. Around 6 p.m. the kids started to fade—whining about sore feet and wanting to go home. But we pushed on a little farther, walking another kilometer or so down to the waterfront, I wanted to find the Paddington Bear statue.
Just below it, we discovered a massive shopping mall packed with every North American brand imaginable. Of course, we had to take a look. Despite the protests of tired legs and achy knees, we browsed a while longer. I managed to buy a pair of jeans, a shirt, and a couple of tees from The Gap. Both kids were treated to new Swiss Army knives—Charley’s had been confiscated at airport security in Alaska, and she’d missed it terribly. By 10 p.m., we were back in our tiny home completely wiped out.
Camping here is expensive. There’s a toilet, but no shower. The salty air hangs heavy, and poor Bruce is absolutely dripping with it. It’s time to move on—next stop Paracas National Reserve & Huacachina Oasis…