The country of Machu Picchu and 4,000 types of potatoes. Peru’s Incan citadel perched high in the Andes is a testament to ancient engineering, its stone terraces and temples shrouded in mist, overlooking the Urubamba River’s serpentine gorge. We began our ascent with a luxurious train ride on the Hiram Bingham or a similar scenic route, ensconced in a glass-domed observation car that framed panoramic vistas of snow-capped peaks, verdant cloud forests, and tumbling waterfalls. The journey from Cusco to Aguas Calientes was mesmerizing, locomotives chugging through narrow passes, with condors soaring overhead and the scent of eucalyptus wafting in, as the rails hugged sheer cliffs, offering glimpses of the Sacred Valley’s patchwork quinoa fields below. To combat the high altitude’s sneaky headaches, our guide insisted on sipping coca tea, brewed from the leaves of the sacred coca plant, its mild bitterness and earthy warmth acting as a natural remedy to ease altitude sickness and invigorate the senses before the real challenge ahead.

But the true test came with the bus ride “from hell” to the mountaintop wonder—a 30-minute ordeal snaking up hairpin turns on a gravelly switchback road so steep and curvy it clung to the mountainside like a vertigo-inducing rollercoaster. Queuing in the predawn chill amid hundreds of eager tourists, we boarded overcrowded shuttles that lurched and swayed, brakes screeching as they navigated sheer drops with no guardrails, hearts pounding while fog swirled around us. Emerging at the gates, though, the breathlessness shifted from fear to awe: Machu Picchu unfolded in all its glory, the sun piercing the clouds to illuminate the Intihuatana stone “hitching post of the sun” and the Temple of the Condor, with llamas grazing amid the ruins like living relics. This UNESCO jewel, rediscovered by Hiram Bingham in 1911, felt like stepping into a lost world, its precision-cut granite walls defying time and earthquakes.

As potatoes are a staple part of Polish cuisine, I was thrilled to widen my “potato horizons” with Peru’s dizzying varieties—from purple huayro to buttery canchan—often boiled, fried, or mashed into hearty chaufa or causa layered salads. However, what made the biggest impression on me was ceviche. This zesty dish of raw fish marinated in lime juice is so popular that it has become the national dish of Peru, with the population celebrating National Ceviche Day on the third Sunday of June!

Preparation of the dish varies across the countries of Latin America, and beyond. Hungry travelers can taste it prepared in local ways, amongst others, in Colombia, Ecuador (e.g., shrimp ceviche), Honduras, Chile (e.g., made of halibut), El Salvador (Ceviche de Concha Negra, aka the Black Clam), also Mexico (served with tostadas), Panama (e.g., from white sea bass), and the Caribbean (dish prepared with coconut milk). A similar dish is prepared in the Philippines under the name of kilawan.

I discovered it after 5 hours of bumpy flight over the Andes during the local winter. We landed in the wee hours of the night in Lima, and our Peruvian guide started updating us on local history, quirks, sights, and food—from pre-Columbian empires to pisco distilleries. From all of the dishes displayed on the slide presentation on his iPad at 3 a.m., raw fish was what caught my attention. I did not, however, have a chance to actually try it till we arrived in Cusco some days later, after acclimating with more coca tea amid the city’s cobblestone plazas and Qorikancha temple.

We found a little local restaurant hidden on the second floor of one of the side streets of the town. The menu included quinoa soup, orgía de patata (yes, you read it correctly—a potato orgy of sorts, heaped with colorful tubers), and kingfish ceviche. I ordered it at once. Ceviche is usually made of raw fish “cooked” in lime juice, cilantro, aji peppers, onion, and salt, its acidity denaturing the proteins for a fresh, tangy bite. Mine arrived on a crisp toast, with a shot of frothy pisco sour to cut the richness. And what an experience it was! While not a very complicated fish dish, it nonetheless made my taste buds dance with citrusy zing and subtle chili heat, a perfect post-Machu Picchu reward evoking Peru’s coastal bounty.