Wondering what it’s really like when you’re living in the Sacred Valley? Here’s a bit about my own experience
By Chere Di Boscio
The Sacred Valley in Peru is one of those places that looks almost too good to be true. Towering mountains, ancient Inca sites, spectacular scenery, a wonderful climate and a lifestyle that can seem impossibly appealing from the outside.
But what’s it like living in the Sacred Valley, rather than simply visiting it?
That’s a rather different question.
I’ve lived here long enough to discover that the reality is considerably more complicated—and considerably more interesting—than the postcard version. There are things I absolutely love, things that drive me completely crazy, and things I never would have anticipated before making the move.
So, if you’re curious about the reality of life in Peru’s Sacred Valley, here are 20 things I’ve discovered that you probably won’t find in any typical travel guide.
What You Need To Know About About Living in Peru’s Sacred Valley
1. The food is incredible, cheap and healthy.
Superfoods are the norm here. Chia seeds, maca, cacao, quinoa…you name it, Peru has it, and it costs almost nothing. Fresh tropical fruits – from pineapples and papayas to dragonfruits and lucuma – are also readily available.
Just head down to the local market and pick some up from your casera (usual vendor).
Not in the mood to cook? No problem!
There are loads of restaurants offering everything from chia bowls to quinoa soup, and you can pay as little as $2 for a full meal.
And did I mention: Peru grows no GMO foods? So any Peruvian soy or tofu is going to be all-natural, or even organic.
Tip: just avoid non-organic strawberries, as they’re sprayed with so much pesticide, it’s incredible!
2. Transportation can be easy – but also problematic.
There’s ONE road that goes through the whole valley (the pista). And no one in the government gives a crap about it.
It’s so full of potholes, motorcycles frequently have accidents. Cars swerve around them dramatically, almost causing other accidents. And don’t even get me started on the damage they can do to your tires and suspension.
Why no mayor or other authority does anything to fix it is a mystery. Especially since it’s the only road that goes to the main source of income – directly or indirectly – for many Valley residents: Machu Picchu.
That being said, it’s hard to get lost, since there’s only one main road.
And it’s easy to get around.
If you don’t have a car, taxis are cheap. Or you could just flag down a micro from wherever you’re standing on the pista. They’ll stop for you. Jump on, then say ‘baja!’ when you want to get off. They’ll stop wherever you like. Pay them before you get off.
The downside? They do drive like maniacs.
3. There are basically two seasons: wet and dry.
The Sacred Valley has two seasons: wet and dry.
The dry season generally means more predictable weather—and more tourists. Days are warm and sunny and nights are cold. Sometimes, really cold. Like, near zero degrees.
The wet season brings warmer weather and rain, but it also brings something spectacular: more greenery. The mountains and countryside become incredibly lush, and there are usually loads of rainbows. I particularly love the thunderstorms and the drama of the lightening.
Just be sure not to leave the house without an umbrella or rain poncho. And for both seasons, it’s a good idea to dress in layers, as the weather can change from one hour to the next. Even from one village to the next!
4. There’s a lot of ‘informality’: which is good and bad.
One of the things you’ll notice when you’re living the Sacred Valley is that people almost always build houses without permits. They put up hideous, often unfinished structures that would never get approved in Western countries. Some seem destined to remain unfinished forever. Some flood because they’re built too close to the river. Others crumble because they were built without consulting engineers or architects in any way. Local builders and even contractors are frequently just random people with no licences or proper training.
And there are no penalties for any of it.
There are also loads of drivers who simply bought their licences, rather than earned them through legal channels. There are food vendors and restaurants who have never been visited by health inspectors. Ditto for beauty therapists. Renting a house? Forget about estate agents. They barely exist. You’ll likely just shake hands with your landlord.
Another example of this ‘informality’? There was a very dangerous, illegal road being constructed up a steep mountain near my house. Everyone—except the comuneros making the road—knew it was going to be a total disaster. My neighbours and I went to the municipality to try to get it stopped before someone got killed.
And we discovered that they were actually lending these people the machinery to build it.
You couldn’t make it up.
But here’s the funny thing: the same dodgy lack of order and law enforcement can also give you an extraordinary amount of freedom.
For example? You can open a business pretty easily. You can pretty much build what you want without spending years dealing with bureaucracy.
Coming from the UK, I find that a bit wonderful: I once waited six months and paid almost $700 to get permission to create an attic inside my own house—something nobody else would ever see. And once permission was granted, I had to go through not one, but two inspections. Which I also had to pay for.
In the Sacred Valley, the attitude can sometimes be much closer to: It’s your life. Do what you want. Go for it.
That’s liberating!
But it’s also occasionally terrifying.
5. It’s hard to be fully accepted by the indigenous locals.
This is something that can be difficult for foreigners to understand when they first move to the Sacred Valley: you can make friends with locals. Sure.
But you will never be one of them.
I’m not talking about people from Lima or Arequipa. I’m taking about the indigenous local Andean people. I know people who have tried hard to be close friends with them. People who have even married them. But most have ended up divorced or disappointed.
You may be welcomed and treated well. You may form good relationships. But it doesn’t erase the fact that you’re a foreigner, and will always be seen as such.
And that’s fine. Our cultures, educations and traditions are indeed very different. Perhaps that’s something we simply have to accept when living in the Sacred Valley.
6. There are some weird gringos.
Here, there are people looking for a simpler existence. People building businesses. People buying land. And some people pursuing spiritual enlightenment. All fine and well. But the Sacred Valley also attracts a particular kind of foreigner – those who come to do ‘medicine.’
For the most part, these people are fine. Enlightened, even. But there is a small contingent who are undeniably mentally unstable. Who have literal psychosis. Or who claim to be ‘shamans’ or ‘healers’ – but are seriously deluded.
To be fair, most of them stay within Pisac. Which is why personally, I avoid that place. But that’s just me!
7. It’s hard to get tech stuff fixed.
If you’re living in the Sacred Valley and something electronic breaks, you may find yourself in a bit of bother.
Need your iPhone or MacBook repaired?
Need a replacement part for your brand new phone?
Good luck with that. The further you get from the larger towns, the more difficult it becomes to find good tech services.
Sometimes, the only solution is to take something to a specialist in Cusco, but even then – you might be stuck.
Oh, and if you have to buy a new computer, good luck finding one with an English keyboard.
On the plus side, the secondhand market for electronics is booming here.
8. With respect to medical care, you’re basically on your own.
This is one of the biggest detriments about living in the Sacred Valley.
There are some basic medical services in the valley, and Cusco provides considerably more options. But you’re not living in London, New York or another major Western city with a specialist hospital around every corner.
Or quite often, even a functional ambulance.
If something serious happens, you need to know where you’re going and how you’re going to get there. I know people who have been maimed for life because they couldn’t get to a hospital on time. And I even know someone who lost a baby (because she couldn’t get through a roadblock to get to the hospital), and a woman who died from something easily cured–asthma– because no doctors were on duty in the hospital when she was having an acute attack.
On the plus side, there are lots of fantastic natural healers and clinics can cure chronic illnesses. In fact, I myself was cured of two serious chronic sicknesses thanks to a wonderful acupuncturist.
In short, living in a remote and beautiful part of the world comes with trade-offs, and healthcare can be one of them.
9. Cash is king (and forget about paying with your Apple phone.)
Here in the Valley, we have Yape – a kind of payment app. But you’ll need to have a BCP bank account set up to use it, and you won’t get that unless you have a carnet (which gives you the right to live here).
So if you’re not set up for that, don’t make the mistake of assuming you can live entirely without cash.
You can’t.
Sure, you can pay for stuff in stores with a bank card. But if you want to buy food in the market, street food, something in a feria (outdoor market), or pay for a bus ride, most vendors only accept Yape or cash.
Which is fine! Cash should be King, and here it still is.
Thank heavens for that!
10. Shopping for most stuff is difficult.
If you’re accustomed to ordering absolutely anything online and having it delivered to your door two days later, you’re going to have to seriously adjust.
Living in the Sacred Valley definitely isn’t for those focused on fashion or material stuff. The selection of clothing, furnishing and tech items is limited, to say the least. In town, you’ll mainly find touristy garb (like ponchos and hats) or plasticky, Made-in-China tat.
Amazon does deliver to Peru, but most people living in the Sacred Valley don’t actually have a street address, and there are tight restrictions and complications around importing certain products, including supplements, foods, medicines, some personal care items, pet foods, and many more things.
Your best bet for getting such items is to have a friend bring them to you from abroad.
For myself, when I had to furnish my house, I ended up buying good furniture from Lima and having it sent to Marvisur – a delivery warehouse that takes deliveries from all over the country.
That’s how it’s done!
11. People can be incredibly helpful.
For all the frustrations of living in the Sacred Valley, here’s something I absolutely love: people can be incredibly helpful.
For example? When the FedEx guy couldn’t find my house, he called me personally. We arranged to meet at a local café so he could deliver my package. He really went out of his way to make sure I got it.
Another example? A friend who couldn’t afford medical care arranged ayni – a kind of exchange – with her practitioner. She gave him daily meals for two weeks in exchange for treatment. My taxi driver always gives me credit when I’m short on cash, and my housekeeper took my dog to the vet – without being asked – when another dog badly injured him.
These sorts of interactions happen all the time.
Things may not always work in the way you’re accustomed to, but when something goes wrong, there is often someone willing to help you figure it out.
And that counts for a lot.
12. Pet care is way, way cheaper than where you live.
If you’re planning on living in the Sacred Valley with pets, here’s some good news: veterinary care is incredibly inexpensive compared with many Western countries.
Expect to pay around $15 for an average visit, depending on the circumstances.
And vets will sometimes even come to your house for around $10 more.
Even serious operations are way, way cheaper than the insane prices Western vets charge. For example? My cat had all her teeth pulled out for around $300, whilst my sister in Canada paid $2500 for the same operation.
13. You can get almost anything in the pharmacies – without a prescription.
Thank god for this one!
In the Sacred Valley, pharmacies can be remarkably accessible compared with what you’re used to in countries where almost everything – from allergy medicines and hearing aids to birth control pills and eye drops – requires a prescription.
If you already know what medication you need, you can often simply go to the pharmacy, ask for the drug and dosage, and just buy it. Whew! The convenience is remarkable, and the cost is way, way lower.
Plus, you’re treated like an adult who is intelligent enough to know what their body needs.
14. Land is more expensive than you think.
When I first moved here over a decade ago, land was around $25-$30 per sq m. And now, it’s around $100-$120 per sq m. Which is insane, given that land in Hawaii (inland) is priced at around $15. In the UK, building plots outside major cities averages $20, and in the French countryside, it’s $87.
Why is it so expensive? Demand, of course! You’re paying for the location, the views, access, proximity to services—and sometimes the simple fact that everybody else wants a piece of the Sacred Valley too.
15. Sometimes, the noise is off the charts.
It looks peaceful, sure. But one of the more surprising things about living in the Sacred Valley is just how incredibly noisy it can be.
I’m talking about all-night raves in Pisac; terrifying pyrotechnic bombs going off for fiestas in Huaran; all-night municipal events in Yucay and Calca; and firecrackers exploding throughout Christmas and New Year’s. All the animals go crazy, and many dogs run away from home in terror.
And speaking of dogs: many ‘owners’ let them out all night. Which means barking. All. Night. Long.
If you’re considering living in the Sacred Valley, don’t assume that waking up surrounded by spectacular mountains means you’ll be enjoying blissful silence. In some areas, the noise can go on all night, and there’s not much you can do about it.
Of course, this is part of the reality of living in a place where local celebrations and community events are an important part of everyday life.
And I suppose it is still better than living in a city.
Usually.
16. The fiestas are frequent, fun and colourful
If there’s one thing the Sacred Valley does extremely well, it’s fiestas.
There are local festivals and celebrations throughout the year, and they’re usually vibrant, colourful and incredibly entertaining. You’ll often see dancers in traditional costumes accompanied by brass bands, with the streets filled with music, people and activity.
For anyone interested in Sacred Valley culture and traditions, these celebrations are a fantastic way to see a completely different side of life here.
They’re also a photographer’s dream.
It’s worth taking the time to learn the history behind each celebration, too. The costumes, dances, music and rituals aren’t just colourful entertainment—they’re connected to the history and traditions of the individual communities.
There’s just one catch: if the fiesta is happening somewhere near your house, you might want to check when it’s scheduled to finish. Because “all night” can mean exactly that.
17. Local people generally try to avoid conflict
One thing you may notice while living in the Sacred Valley is that people generally dislike conflict. This can be both a good thing and a bad thing.
On the positive side, everyday interactions tend to be relatively peaceful. You’re unlikely to have someone honking their horn repeatedly because you’re driving slowly, or screaming at you because you don’t have the correct change—as you might encounter in some other parts of the world. There’s often a refreshing willingness to let minor annoyances slide rather than turn them into an argument. They’ll even agree with you when they disagree.
The downside is that avoiding conflict can make it difficult to resolve problems when something genuinely goes wrong. Say you hire someone to do a job and they do a poor job. If you confront them about it and ask them to fix the problem, they may simply stop responding or disappear altogether. Rather than have an uncomfortable conversation or admit that something went wrong, ghosting can sometimes seem like the easier option.
18. The altitude is, and will likely always be, a thing
If you’re planning on living in the Sacred Valley, you’ll need to get used to the altitude.
While the acute effects go away within days, the long-term effects can linger – and even get worse.
As a runner, I’ve noted my speed and endurance are notably worse here than at sea level. Many people – for better or worse – lose weight living here, as the altitude reduces appetite. And even long-term residents who couldn’t imagine living anywhere else have had to move after years and years of living here because of Monge’s disease, aka chronic mountain sickness.
19. You will need to speak Spanish
Unlike a lot of other ex-pat hotspots, like Bali, Mexico or even parts of Ecuador, if you want to live comfortably in the Sacred Valley, you will need to learn Spanish.
Quechua is actually the indigenous language here, and for many, Spanish is seen as a second language. English? Hardly any locals ever study it or feel the need to speak it.
Sure, you can hang out in ex-pat circles where English dominates, and you can use online translators to understand the basics. But if you really want to integrate into society, you’ll need to speak Spanish.
20. Pachamama is pretty sick
There’s a perception that the people of the Andes are all Pachamama-loving, poncho-wearing farmers. And that’s simply not true anymore.
Most farmers spray their crops heavily with pesticides, fungicides and herbicides, including tons of glyphosate and other chemicals that are banned in Western countries. And when I say ‘heavily’, I mean far, far over the legal limits.
And sometimes, they even do so using drones, which sprays the chemicals far and wide.
If you think that house you’re about to rent, surrounded by corn or strawberry fields is idyllic, think again. You’ll probably be inhaling so many toxins, you’ll get sick sooner or later. And they burn that plastic that covers the strawberries eventually, too.
In addition, animals are not treated well. Sheep, cows and pigs are usually tied up all day on short ropes, and have to just stand there in the hot sun or pouring rain, without water to drink. Dogs run loose all over the place, making driving hazardous.
It’s very sad and I hope it changes.
Thanks to some groups, such as Green Heroes, steps are being made to educate children to make a better future for themselves and their families.
So, what’s it really like living in the Sacred Valley?
Living in the Sacred Valley of Peru can be frustrating, inconvenient, unpredictable and occasionally completely insane.
It can also be great.
You wake up surrounded by enormous mountains. You can eat fantastic food for very little money. And you meet interesting—and sometimes very strange—people from all over the world. You have access to a level of freedom that can feel unimaginable if you’ve come from somewhere heavily regulated.
But you also have to accept the downsides.
The infrastructure isn’t perfect. The roads can be dangerous. Healthcare requires planning. Getting things repaired can be a nightmare. Shopping isn’t always easy. And the rules—or lack of them—can occasionally leave you scratching your head.
That’s the deal.
The Sacred Valley isn’t Switzerland, that’s for sure. It’s not even as developed as Bali, or Tulum.
It’s a real place, with real communities, real problems and a way of life that can be radically different from what you’re used to.
And if you understand that before you arrive, you’re much more likely to appreciate what makes living in the Sacred Valley so extraordinary.
