During my stay in Lima, I fell in love with Miraflores, Barranco, and the Parque de la Reserva. However I felt less passionate about the Plaza de Armas, the main square in the center of Lima. Though the Cathedral Basilica of Lima, the Municipal Palace, and the Archbishop of Lima’s Palace are nice old buildings, none of them are examples of amazing architecture.

The way buildings and other features are arrayed around the plaza seems haphazard. The space looks unfocused and visually incoherent. Trees, flagpoles, streetlights, and a fountain add too many vertical elements to the square. Less would have been more.

I found more appealing things to look at in the side streets. On one pedestrian mall, the Lima Municipal Band was playing lively dance numbers. People (mostly older folks) were dancing in the street. And I just loved the fact that Lima has a municipal band. I thought of my parents, both of whom played in bands in high school and beyond. My father played the baritone horn while my mother was a very accomplished trombonist. They would have loved hearing what I heard.

One of the side streets dead-ended into the Casa de Correos y Telegrafos. It must have been inconceivable to the people who built this back in 1897 that letters and telegrams would be well-nigh obsolete 120 years later.

I also wondered if rendering a mail slot as a lion’s open mouth was really the best symbol for the Peruvian postal system. People want their letters delivered, not devoured. Still, it was pretty cool.

The streets around Plaza de Armas were the only places in Peru where I saw government security forces on display. I don’t know whether this is a regular occurrence. Three months before I arrived, Peru’s president was forced to resign in a corruption scandal and was replaced by the former vice-president. Perhaps that ripple of political instability prompted greater vigilance. Or maybe this is just a sad feature of the world we now live in.

On a happier note, there was a fine-looking bookstore nearby. I’ve remarked before on how many bookstores there are in Lima. Their presence always makes me think well of a city.

Of course, bodegas, street vendors, and convenience stores are common too.

Lima Centro certainly gave me the opportunity to indulge in some of my photographic obsessions: motorcycles and bicycles. They tell me stories about the place and the people who inhabit it.

I strolled through the arcades that ring the Plaza de Armas. And I wondered when I would return.

If Miraflores seems out of place — a prosperous upper-middle class neighborhood in a country where the per capita GDP is only about $6,000 — Barranco feels out of time. The major public square in this small Lima neighborhood is centered around a public library.That was more than enough to gladden my bibliophile heart.

Nearby stands an old electric streetcar with wooden doors and a cowcatcher front. This is a nonfunctioning museum piece, but it sets the mood for other anachronisms, like fifties-style lunch counters.

Hippies are another Barranco anachronism. They run galleries, play guitars out in the public squares, sell jewelry, and hang out with their boyfriends, girlfriends, and dogs.

And while most other parts of Lima use a color spectrum that ranges from concrete gray to Oxford brown, Barranco’s walls and buildings use a much livelier color palate.

For these and other reasons, the neighborhood is justifiably popular with tourists.

At one point, I got the strange feeling that I was being watched. I looked up and saw several large birds emerging from the rooftop of an abandoned church and circling above me. Yes, they were buzzards. I knew that the Inca Trail had taken a lot of out me, but I didn’t know I looked like buzzard food. “Buzz off!” I told them. “You’ve got the wrong guy.”