Back in the 1990s, travel was a very different experience.
Every time I see it, I am transported back to those early days on the trail, when each trek brought new discoveries, new friendships, and unforgettable adventures in the Andes.
There were no smartphones, no social media, and internet access was limited and often unavailable. Travelers did not have YouTube channels, travel blogs, Facebook groups, or thousands of online reviews to help them choose destinations, hotels, guides, or tour operators.
What we did have were the famous guidebooks.
There was Lonely Planet, Rough Guides, and a few others. Some were dedicated to individual countries, while others covered entire regions. I still remember the thick editions of Lonely Planet South America, as well as separate guides for Peru, Bolivia, Ecuador, and Colombia.
For travelers, these books were the ultimate source of information.
They recommended hotels, restaurants, travel agencies, and even individual tour guides. Being mentioned in one of these books was incredibly valuable. It was the equivalent of having thousands of five-star reviews today.
I knew many agencies and guides in Cusco who proudly displayed their Lonely Planet recommendations. In fact, some people barely needed to sell their services at all. They would simply approach travelers and say:
“My friend, Lonely Planet recommendation. My agency.”
And that alone was often enough to secure a booking.
In those days, most Inca Trail reservations were made after travelers arrived in Cusco. Things were much more flexible. Before the permit system became what it is today, travelers could even hike the Inca Trail independently without a guide or tour company.
The guidebooks contained detailed descriptions of routes, distances, elevations, and logistics. Travelers trusted them completely.
Sometimes, they trusted the books more than they trusted local experts.
I remember occasions when I would explain something as a guide and a traveler would immediately respond:
“But Lonely Planet says something different.”
Imagine that situation. I had grown up in Cusco, spent my entire life around these places, and had completed higher education in tourism. Yet occasionally I found myself having to defend my own knowledge against what was written in a guidebook.
And often, the guidebook won.
Machu Picchu is a perfect example. There have always been many theories about its purpose, its origins, and why it was abandoned. Archaeologists continue to debate these questions today. Yet many travelers treated whatever Lonely Planet printed as the final and unquestionable truth.
As guides, we sometimes found ourselves repeating the guidebook version simply because that was what visitors expected to hear.
That was how things worked in the 1990s.
Despite all of this, every guide, hotel, restaurant, and travel company dreamed of being recommended in those books.
I certainly did.
At that time, my goal was simple: I wanted to become one of the best guides in Cusco. I didn’t really know how one achieved that status, but I knew that appearing in Lonely Planet or Rough Guides was considered one of the highest forms of recognition.
Personally, I never managed to be listed as an individual guide. Perhaps I wasn’t as good as I hoped to be.
But years later, I achieved something that made me equally proud.
Llama Path was recommended in Lonely Planet.
If I remember correctly, it happened around 2008. Seeing our company included in such an influential publication was a special moment. It brought us more visibility, more bookings, and confirmation that our hard work was being noticed.
Today, the travel world is completely different.
Every traveler has access to countless websites, blogs, videos, forums, and social media channels. Information is available instantly from a smartphone. Travelers can compare hundreds of reviews within minutes and access perspectives from people all over the world.
The amount of information available today is astonishing.
But sometimes I look back fondly on those earlier days.
A time when a single guidebook could shape the travel industry, influence thousands of decisions, and hold a level of authority that is almost impossible to imagine today.
For an entire generation of travelers, Lonely Planet wasn’t just a book.
It was the internet.
