Pisco

Slicing across the breeze-swept waves off Paracas at dawn-when the ocean is tolerably calm and the sun hasn't yet scorched your sanity-is arguably the only sensible way to encounter El Candelabro, a cryptic 2,000-year-old geoglyph carved defiantly into the peninsula's red sands. Towering nearly 600 feet tall, this giant trident-shaped figure, etched into the hillside by some enigmatic ancient civilization long before the Nazca got trendy with their lines farther inland, will ignite your inner archaeologist-or conspiracy theorist. Bring a decent camera, sunscreen (the Peruvian sun doesn't mess around), and a healthy skepticism-since your local guide might passionately claim it's a navigational aid for aliens or pirates' buried treasure marker. Book your boat tour at least a day ahead, fork over roughly $25 per head-well worth it-then spend the ride out there debating theories with whoever's sitting closest. Go early to avoid rough waves and high-season crowds, both equally relentless. Even if you leave none the wiser about who carved this colossal sand doodle or why, you'll have glimpsed one of history's most brazen puzzles, guaranteeing you at least six months of superior dinner party anecdotes.

Strapping into a rattly, shoebox-sized airplane to glimpse the Nazca Lines feels gloriously improbable-somewhere between a spiritual pilgrimage and a questionable amusement park ride. From above, you'll gawk at massive, ancient doodles-geoglyphs shaped like hummingbirds and monkeys-etched mysteriously into Peru's sun-baked desert by a civilization long vanished, perhaps just to confuse future humans and conspiracy theorists alike. Morning flights mean smoother skies (which your stomach will thank you for), so book a spot at least a few days ahead, and budget around $100-150 for this airborne rollercoaster. Bring your sense of wonder, a pair of sturdy sunglasses, and maybe a motion-sickness pill if you're prone to dramatics. Whatever your impression afterward-awe-struck, bewildered, or just slightly queasy-you'll have earned the eternal right to casually drop "when I flew over Nazca..." into conversations. And really, what's travel without the bragging rights?