First Days in Arequipa

A photographer's dream.

Although I've traveled a lot over the years, I still get a little nervous every time I fly. Ninety-five percent of the time, everything goes exactly as planned. It's the other five percent—the delayed flights, missed connections, and luggage that decides to vacation in another city—that sticks in your mind.

Thankfully, this trip belonged to the ninety-five.

My first stop at JFK was the Chase Sapphire Lounge, courtesy of my Chase Sapphire Reserve card. Unfortunately, half of New York had the same idea. The place was packed, with travelers swarming the entrance like gate lice. They put me on a waiting list, so I wandered over to my departure gate, settled into a chair with a book, and promptly forgot all about it.

An hour and fifteen minutes later my phone buzzed. My table was ready.

By then I had only forty minutes before boarding, so my luxurious lounge experience consisted mostly of inhaling a few bites from the buffet while resisting the temptation to overeat, knowing a full dinner would be served after takeoff. At least I absconded with a handful of chocolate biscotti for later.

First-world problems.

Using frequent flyer miles to upgrade to business class turned out to be one of the smartest travel decisions I've made in years. I've never been able to sleep on an airplane. In economy I'm usually the lone insomniac while everyone else dozes off. Yes, I'm the annoying guy with the reading light still on or the only person watching a movie at three in the morning.

Not this time.

The seat folded completely flat, and for the first time in my life I actually slept on a plane. Not twenty minutes. Not an hour.

Almost six hours! That's about what I get on a normal night at home.

When I woke up somewhere over Peru, I felt... almost normal. That was a new experience.

The short hop from Lima to Arequipa went just as smoothly. My upgrade carried over to that flight as well. It wasn't quite business class. It was premium economy which means a little extra legroom and slightly better snacks. I'd booked an aisle seat, but before takeoff a flight attendant asked if I'd switch seats so a man could sit next to his mother.

Sure. Why not?

It was only a seventy-minute flight, and it seemed like a nice way to begin the trip. Besides, every Mission Rabies adventure should probably start with a little good karma.

Twenty minutes after leaving the airport by taxi, I arrived at the Casa Andina Premium, my home for the next three nights. Check-in wasn't supposed to begin until 2:00 p.m., but they had a room ready, so I was able to unpack, shower, glance over my itinerary, and head right back out the door.

My first stop was the Plaza de Armas, widely considered one of the most beautiful public squares in Peru. It didn't disappoint. The plaza is enormous, anchored by an elegant fountain and framed by the massive Basilica Cathedral. At first it's almost overwhelming—a giant beehive buzzing with people, pigeons, musicians, vendors, and tourists. These first pics were taken in or around the Plaza.

Rather than rush around checking landmarks off a list, I simply circled the square several times, watching people and making photographs.

I attempted to visit the Casa del Moral, only to discover it's been closed for several months. No matter. The exterior was worth seeing anyway.

From there I wandered into San Lázaro, Arequipa's oldest neighborhood—a maze of narrow streets, white volcanic-stone walls, and quiet little corners that seem made for photographers. Check. out the cute streets:

That's where I spotted the first real photographic gift of the trip.

I noticed the shadow of a dog walking across one of the walls. Looking up, I found the dog pacing along a rooftop above me. For the next several minutes I photographed both the dog and its shadow from every angle I could find.

As the afternoon wore on, the light became extraordinary. Photographers are always talking about light, but never have I been aware of such great light as I have been on this trip, and I just got here! Long shadows stretched across the streets, every doorway seemed mysterious and compelling, and the volcanic stone took on a warm golden color. It reminded me of Stone Town, Zanzibar, in a way. I stopped thinking about destinations and simply wandered wherever my feet (and the light) led me.

Street photographers sometimes talk about "fishing." You find an interesting background, frame the composition, and then wait. Eventually, if you're patient enough, someone walks into your picture.

I did a lot of fishing that afternoon. In all the photos below, I liked the scene the moment I saw it. I just had to wait for someone to walk right in. They did.

I think the most rewarding place was the Mercado San Camilo, the enormous market a few blocks away. It was sensory overload. So many people. So many vendors. So much... fruit! The fruit stands were enormous! I bought a hat there, got some ice cream, and took a million photos, some of which I'm posting below. In some cases, the photos looked equally good in black and white as in color, so I did both.

Eventually the sun disappeared, the temperature dropped (I was freezing!), and I realized I hadn't eaten since breakfast on the airplane. I wandered into Zig Zag, one of Arequipa's better-known restaurants, where I had an excellent dinner before making my way back to the hotel.

I didn't think I was especially tired. Apparently, I was. I crashed almost immediately and slept like a dead man.

The Mission Rabies project doesn't officially begin for another few days, so for now I'll spare you a detailed sightseeing diary. Those longer stories will come once we're vaccinating dogs and exploring neighborhoods with the team.

Until then, here's a collection of photographs from my first days in Arequipa. If this is any indication, this city is going to be a photographic gold mine.