My family’s roots in Peru go deep. In the 1950s, my grandfather was a mining engineer working for a Canadian company that operated an iron ore mine in southern Peru. My grandfather spoke of Peru in a way that made the place seem magical. After one of his stints in Peru, he brought back a parrot named Tula that lived in our backyard in Indio, California for many years. That parrot taught me my first Spanish words. In 1988, I was posted to Embassy Lima for my third overseas tour with the State Department. Notwithstanding the convulsion that wracked Peru at the time, those three years working and traveling all over Peru were a dream come true for me. I was walking in the places my grandfather had walked. My brother was a Fulbright scholar in Peru. Two of my daughters were born in Peru. We adopted them while we were assigned to the U.S. Embassy there. The blood of Peru literally runs in my family. For these reasons, I consider Peru to be my country. If I can point to no legal document for my claim that I am part Peruvian, I can at least point to my heart where Peru will always have a claim on my emotions. This travel guide provides insights and observations that you will find nowhere else.