The honest version: what I learned buying land in Peru

The man showing me the land pulled out a machete and started cutting. The property had sat untended for three or four years, and it was so overgrown that I couldn't see the borders, couldn't see a view, couldn't see much of anything. I just knew it was full of trees. Two weekends of looking, six or seven properties, and I bought this one. It was the best decision I've made in Peru, and it taught me almost everything I now tell people before they buy here.

From Lima to the jungle

I moved to Lima at the end of 2020, in the middle of the pandemic. I stayed about three and a half years, flying back to the US often enough that the big city made sense for a while. I got to know it, travel around, and learn how the country works.

But I'd always wanted the jungle. The biodiversity here is extreme. The sheer number of plants and animals is hard to describe until you're standing in it. The pace is slower. You can grow your own garden. And the property is cheap, though prices are climbing, which is exactly why I decided it was time to buy.

Finding the land

I'll be honest: I didn't take much time. Six or seven properties over two weekends. The one I chose was out at the end of a bumpy dirt road, about three and a half kilometers outside of Lamas. Far enough that you don't hear the city, close enough to still be part of town.

I met the seller at the Plaza del Huayco in Lamas, and he brought me out to walk it. That's when the machete came out. Nothing had been cared for in years, so we cut our way along the borders just so I could see where the land actually ended. I couldn't really tell if it had a view. But I could see it was full of fruit trees: bananas, mangoes, and things I'd never heard of before, like tapicho, zapote, noni and caimito. Decent price, right distance from town, and all that fruit. It had water, and what I was told was electricity.

What looked finished versus what worked

Here's the lesson I paid for. I was told the property had water and electricity. The water was real. The electricity looked real too. The cables were run, and there were even meters installed. Everything you'd point at and say, "yes, that's electricity."

Except it wasn't connected. It was a government project that had been going since 2017, still on hold, and by 2024 it still wasn't finished. Meters on the post, no power in the wire.

Verify what actually works, not what looks finished.

That's the single most useful thing I can tell a buyer here. Turn the tap. Flip the switch. Ask when it was last running, not whether the infrastructure exists. In a lot of rural Peru, the hardware being there and the service actually working are two very different things.

The family who became family

The part I didn't see coming was the people. The family selling the land was wonderful, and genuinely happy I was the one buying it. The local indigenous people who had helped care for the land over the years were the ones who first showed it to me, and they never really left. They still help me with the property, and somewhere along the way they became a second family. Their daughter is now my goddaughter.

When you buy land in a small place like this, you're not just buying dirt and trees. You're stepping into a community. Treat the people well, and it changes everything about what the place becomes.

What it became

That overgrown lot at the end of a dirt road is now a small campus. I've built a house, a pool, a chicken coop, a woodshop, and an outdoor kitchen and barbecue area, and I keep building and expanding. I've since bought other properties too.

A spur-of-the-moment decision, made looking at land I could barely see, turned into a whole life. I'm not telling you that to brag. I'm telling you because it's proof that the leap can be worth it, as long as you go in with your eyes open.

The honest takeaway: it's an adventure

If you're dreaming about land in Peru, especially somewhere rural or in the jungle, here's what I want you to know going in. Infrastructure isn't the best. Services aren't always reliable. A water line will break. Something you were promised will turn out to be half-finished. Unexpected things are part of the deal.

That's not a reason to stay away. It's a reason to go in with the right mindset. A few things I'd do every time:

• Verify, don't assume. Test water and power yourself, and ask when they last worked.
• Walk the borders. Even if it takes a machete. Then confirm them against the public registry.
• Get to know the people. Neighbors and local caretakers will tell you things no listing will.
• Budget for surprises. In time, money and patience.

If that sounds exciting rather than exhausting, you'll probably love it here. And if you want someone on the ground to help you do it right, that's exactly why I started Buy Land In Peru.