Who do I think I Am? Liz's Ancentral Voyage Through South America
This personal travel story was submitted by Jack's Flight Club member Liz in summer 2026.
I’m sure this isn’t the headline you’d expect in The Detour, but I’ve never been one for following the expected path.
I turned 50 in January and wanted to celebrate in an unusual way. While most people head to Machu Picchu or the Bolivian salt flats, I set myself a different mission: to follow my ancestors’ journey through South America, retracing the route they travelled between the late 1870s and 1926.
Armed with family trees, old letters and historical documents, I set out to bring their story to life. Of course, I still found plenty of time for a few tourist adventures along the way.
Following Their Footsteps
Our story begins in the early 1870s, when William and Frances Walters left York for Australia. The entire Walters family emigrated there, and most of their descendants remain in Australia today—perhaps that’s a journey for my 60th birthday.
William and Frances didn’t stay long. Their daughter, my great-grandmother Lucy, was born in Sydney before William accepted a position as an engineer on the Chilean railways, taking the family to Santiago, Chile.
William Walters
Frances Walters
Around the same time, a young boy named John Mutch was growing up around Aberdeen and Stonehaven, Scotland, where generations of the Mutch family still live today.
John had bigger ambitions, though, and travelled to Santiago to build a career in banking, securing a job at the Anglo South American Bank.
There he met Lucy.
John Mutch
Lucy Mutch
Santiago, Chile
Naturally, Santiago was my first stop. While there, I conquered my fear of heights by riding the historic Funicular de Santiago to the summit of Cerro San Cristóbal. The panoramic views were well worth the shaky knees.
I also explored San José de Maipo in the Andes. On the journey back, my guide made an unscheduled stop at one of the original railway tunnels built during my great-great-grandfather’s era—a special moment that brought the family story vividly to life.
Back in Santiago, I visited Estación Central, the Railway Museum, and spent a peaceful afternoon wandering around Santa Lucía Hill.
Montevideo, Uruguay
My next destination was Montevideo. It was there, in 1906, that my grandmother Gladys was born. At just 32 years old, John had become an assistant bank manager. Not bad for a wee boy from Aberdeen. Only a couple of years later, another promotion took the family to Iquique, Chile, where he became bank manager. Sadly, I could not make it to Iquiqui on this trip.
It felt important to spend my 50th birthday in Santiago. I visited the bank where my great-grandfather had worked and stood outside the family home where they had once lived.
Before leaving the UK, I’d discovered the location of my great-great-grandmother Frances’ grave. On my birthday, I packed a picnic and spent several hours sitting beside her grave, telling her all about the generations that followed. She probably wished for another hundred years of peace and quiet after that.
Buenos Aires, Argentina
Being so close, it would have been rude not to hop across the Río de la Plata to Buenos Aires.
I had grand plans but ended up needing a little rest instead. I still enjoyed exploring my neighbourhood on foot, although I never quite made it to the tango show I’d planned. I suppose that just gives me an excuse to return.
Cusco and Ollantaytambo, Peru
Next came Cusco and Ollantaytambo, where I’d scheduled in a few quieter days. Rather than taking one of the expensive tourist transfers, I travelled by local colectivo—a shared minibus costing around £10 each way.
Although I chose not to visit Machu Picchu this time, Ollantaytambo itself was breathtaking. My accommodation overlooked a mountain stream, and I spent my days wandering through the ancient streets, visiting the old Inca Bridge, and simply enjoying everyday life alongside the locals.
I also tried alpaca meat for the first time. It quickly became one of my favourite meals and featured regularly for the rest of my trip.
A Change of Plans
My next stop was supposed to be Arequipa, but storms grounded my flight. After a little negotiation, the airline flew me two days earlier than planned to La Paz, Bolivia, instead.
Sometimes travel disruptions become the best stories.
La Paz, Bolivia
La Paz was perhaps the most emotional stop of the entire journey. This was where my great-grandfather died in 1926, aged just 52. At the time, he was overseeing the relocation of Banco Mercantil’s headquarters from Oruro to La Paz. In a letter dated 11 June 1926, he wrote to his son Bobby, suggesting they meet while Bobby was working in Peru.
Sadly, they never did. He died during a work trip to La Paz on 17 July 1926. I visited the bank headquarters, although I was unable to locate his grave due to local burial customs.
La Paz itself is an extraordinary city. I wandered through the Witches’ Market, explored the streets, and discovered that even coca tea and altitude tablets couldn’t entirely prevent the effects of the thin air. Fortunately, an Andean massage helped enormously.
One unforgettable highlight was taking the cable car up to El Alto to watch the famous Cholitas Wrestling. Don’t miss it if you ever visit.
Across Lake Titicaca
Before heading to Lima to meet relatives, I wanted to immerse myself further in Andean culture.
I travelled by bus from La Paz to Puno. The journey itself was spectacular, including a lunch stop in Copacabana before everyone left the bus to board a small boat, while the bus itself was ferried across the Tiquina Strait on a wooden raft. It’s exactly as surreal as it sounds.
From Puno I visited the Uros Floating Islands, learning about the remarkable reed islands and the traditions that have survived for generations. Then came one of the greatest highlights of my entire trip.
Taquile Island
This tiny island in Lake Titicaca has no cars and very little modern technology. The local people still speak Quechua and preserve traditions that stretch back to Inca times.
After lunch, I left the tourist group and was collected by my host, Rubén. For three days I lived with his family, joining them on walks around the island, learning about their traditions, watching the men weave, sharing meals and even joining in the local dancing.
Between my limited Spanish, their limited English, and my complete lack of Quechua, we still somehow managed to understand one another.
One mystery remains unsolved, though… How did I manage to rack up a total of 17 miles’ walking on an island that’s only two square miles? At that altitude, coca leaves and muña tea became my closest companions, clearly keeping me going.
Leaving Taquile was genuinely emotional. There is something magical about Lake Titicaca and the ancient communities who continue to call it home. I’ll definitely return.
Lima, Peru
Finally, after eight flights, ferries, boats and buses, it was time to meet family. Instead of flying, I chose a 24-hour luxury coach from Puno to Lima. For around £40 I had a fully reclining bed seat, privacy curtain, breakfast, and some of the most spectacular scenery I’ve ever seen.
It was one of the best-value journeys of the entire trip.
Arriving in Lima also meant one unexpected luxury… Breathing normally again. After weeks at altitude, I practically sprinted down to the Pacific coast to watch the sunset.
Meeting Bobby’s great-grandson was incredibly special. Bobby had ended up settling in Peru as an adult after marrying a Peruvian lady. They went on to have two children, John and Madeleine, and it was John’s son, Bruce, who I was lucky enough to meet.
I had been in touch with Bruce for years via WhatsApp, but this was the first time we had been in the same place. I brought gifts from Aberdeen, including MacDonald tartan, as our Scottish ancestry traces back through our great-great-grandmother. Fittingly, we celebrated Burns Night together.
I also explored historic Lima, where I unexpectedly crossed paths with the president during a walkabout outside the Presidential Palace. I just happened to be in the square at the right time and saw the press running, so I ran after them to see what was going on. In all honesty, I had to Google him after I took the photo, as I didn’t know who he was when I met him!
Visits to Miraflores and the Huaca Pucllana archaeological site rounded off my time in Peru perfectly.
Looking Back
After 28 days travelling solo across South America, I flew home via Colombia with a full heart, renewed confidence and, most importantly, a much deeper understanding of my family’s extraordinary story.
It drove home to me how brave my family was to migrate like that during those times to another continent and culture. It wasn’t as simple as jumping on a plane. My ancestors would sail for 45 days each way just to visit Britain. Compared with that, I can hardly complain about nine flights in four weeks.
This journey wasn’t simply about tracing a family tree. It was about walking in their footsteps, understanding the lives they built so far from home, and discovering a little more about myself along the way. South America gave me history, adventure, family, and memories I’ll treasure forever.
I’ll certainly be back—both to continue following my ancestors’ journey and to discover even more of this remarkable continent.