On my last night in Peru, I wandered the length of Avenida Jose Larco from the sea to Parque Kennedy. I started at the Larcomar shopping plaza, a handsome Miraflores shopping complex perched on the edge of a cliff overlooking the Pacific.

There I visited a gallery that was hosting an exhibition of photographs staged by the World Press Association. This being news photography, the photos tended toward the sad and disturbing, but there was much to learn from their composition. So much of photojournalism, it seems to me, is about knowing when the perfect split second is about to occur.

Elsewhere in the complex was a mixture of shops and restaurants of American, European, and Peruvian brands.

It was nearly dark when I left Larcomar and headed north. The darkness didn’t stop a utility worker from repairing some underground lines.

I passed by the usual parked motorcycles, fruit stands, apartment buildings, and convenience stores on my way to Parque Kennedy.

It was bicycle night at the park. I saw about a hundred cyclists queued up and waiting to ride around the city. Miraflores has bike lanes, curbed on both sides and painted red, that make bicycling around safe and easy. You can see one on the right side of the picture below.

Around the perimeter of the park were restaurants, cafés and stores where people indulged in less vigorous pursuits.

The public chess games, while less vigorous than bicycling, were definitely more intense. The two guys in the foreground were playing speed chess and completed half a game in the time it took me to take pictures of them.

When the hour got late, I walked back down Avenida Jose Larco to my hotel. I hadn’t taken a trip like this in three years, one where I’d spent eight days in two different parts of a country or region, explored UNESCO World Heritage Sites and ordinary street life, been out in the country and in the thick of a major city. Peru felt like a return to a life I love. It seemed like going home.