Solo viaja i - peru

I was born in 1998 in San Juan de Miraflores, Lima, Peru.
I’m the youngest of five siblings and was raised by my grandfather, Ricardo Amador Gonzales Guibovich, a former navy serviceman. My childhood was surrounded by art long before I understood what I wanted to do with my life. I learned to play Cajón Peruano, trumpet in school, and also how to cook. But more than anything, I learned how to observe.

Since I was a child, I loved photography and films. I loved capturing moments, looking at lights, people, landscapes, and small everyday scenes. The problem was simple: owning a camera felt impossible.

At 15 years old, my working life began, and I also had to leave home to look for opportunities. While finishing high school, I worked making anticuchos at a restaurant called “La Casa de Don Cucho,” owned by chef Luis Armando “Don Cucho” La Rosa. I loved cooking and the artistry behind it, but deep inside I still carried a constant feeling: I hadn’t tried everything yet.

After finishing school, I decided to study Banking and Financial Business Administration. Many people would think it had nothing to do with who I was, but it actually had everything to do with it. I wasn’t studying just to work at a bank; I was studying because I wanted to build opportunities for myself and because I dreamed of one day being able to buy my first camera.

Paying for that degree was not easy.

I worked as a bus fare collector, kitchen assistant at a school, supermarket cashier, street recruiter for a travel company, and in the administrative area of a clinic. I also sold alfajores and pastries under a small personal brand called “Isalde.”

Life moved fast.

In May 2019, I applied to work at a bank even though I hadn’t finished my degree yet and had no experience in the financial industry. I simply wanted to try. On June 11th, I received the news that my grandfather, “El Cachetón,” had passed away. It was one of the greatest losses of my life.

A few days later, on June 26th, I received an email confirming that I had been accepted into the bank.

It felt strange to be sad and proud at the same time. My grandfather was no longer with me, but he left knowing that I tried. And that will always matter to me.

During that same season, my relationship with my mom, “Mi Zamba,” grew stronger than ever. We started spending more time together. I would buy her roses and chocolates, we went to the movies, arrived at church together, and without even realizing it, she became my best friend.

On November 28th of that same year, she also passed away after battling breast cancer.

I have never met a woman as passionate about God as she was. She loved the church and prayed for me constantly. To this day, I still believe God was with me through every difficult season of my life.

After that, I resigned from the bank. Sometimes you have to give yourself permission to lose opportunities, and I needed that space to breathe.

In February 2020, two months later, I joined a financial company where I had the chance to earn good money selling loans. But only a month later, the pandemic began and many employees were laid off. I found myself living alone, unemployed, and without the two people I had loved the most until that moment.

I thought everything ended there.

But somehow, art found a way to heal again. I went back to cooking and spent several months selling burgers with my cousin to keep moving forward. Some time later, the same company called me back. Around 50 people had been laid off, and I was the only one they rehired. Another miracle. God was still with me.

I worked there for another year, bought a motorcycle, paid off my debts, and finally finished my degree at the end of 2021. Shortly after, I reached positions that normally would have taken many more years to achieve.

And then something important happened.

In December 2021, I bought my first camera: a Sony a6000.

It may sound simple, but to me it meant far more than just a camera. It was the dream of a child who had spent years looking at the world wanting to preserve moments without being able to.

That’s when “Solo Viaja” began.

A backpack, a motorcycle, and a camera.

“Solo Viaja” was born with two meanings existing at the same time. Traveling alone… and simply traveling. Learning how to enjoy the journey, everyday moments, simple conversations, smiles, summers, winters, and all the small things that often go unnoticed when life moves too fast.

Traveling across Peru taught me that nothing lasts forever, and maybe that’s exactly why everything holds value.

Since then, I’ve tried to tell stories the same way I learned how to live: by observing, being grateful, and believing that even in difficult days, there is still something beautiful worth finding.

— Ernesto Azalde