The temperature was somewhere in the dry 80s when I arrived at Kahu Beach House in December—the sun-soaked home, with an unobstructed view of the glittering Pacific, was a refuge from the below-freezing temperatures I’d fled in New York City. I know I’m not the first person to take advantage of the Southern Hemisphere’s opposing seasons for a mid-winter escape. But gathering a handful of family and friends into one gorgeous beach pad, in a quiet Peruvian surf town with approximately zero other Americans? I couldn’t help but feel like I was in on a fabulous secret from the moment I arrived.
Kahu Beach House, bookable on Airbnb, sits in a community of Los Órganos, less than an hour’s drive from the Talara airport in northern Peru. This entire northern section of the country’s coastline is known for being always sunny (unlike sometimes foggy Lima) and it is quite literally where surfing was invented some 3,500 years ago. Today, Peru’s northern coast remains a top-tier surf destination. Chicama, further south, is the longest left in the entire world—surfers will know what that means—and Los Órganos in particular is a slow-moving town, and beloved hideaway by Limeños seeking a slower pace (it’s just a one-hour flight from the capital city, and yet an entire world away). We booked a stay for three nights, and decided to get with the program: surf, sun, seafood, repeat.
Arriving at Kahu requires a little bit of faith. The drive from Talara airport to the home is scenic, in that sun-baked, desert-meets-the-sea way that Peru does so well. Within the last few minutes of the drive, it’s a bumpy ride up a dirt road that may leave you wondering how a chic house can await at the end of it. Going up is a good sign, and I was reminded of why when we walked through the front doors and were smacked in the face with the ocean views that height allows. Like the other surrounding homes, the adobe-colored walls and thatched roof details of Kahu blend in perfectly with the natural landscape of Los Órganos. But the design is impeccable, and a notch above the others—delicately dancing between modern and just bohemian enough to signal to my brain “you’re on vacation” without overdoing it.
I reveled in watching my sister-in-law Brenda react in awe at the view; my husband Henry, who typically would be just as happy camping on the beach, raised his eyebrows appreciatively and began taking photos of the plunge pool, with its ocean views and surrounding terrace topped with lounge chairs and bean bags (there was even a telescope, which we later used to both stargaze and look down at surf conditions before walking to the beach in the mornings). Our friend Piero, who’d been tasked with the grocery list for our trip, began scoping out the barbecue and admiring the long dining table, enclosed by glass walls that could slide completely open for an indoor-outdoor kitchen and dining area. Before I’d finished taking in the swinging hammocks (three of them!) and the beautiful blend of warm woods and woven details that were a living mood board for my future dream home, I turned to see my brother-in-law Alex had already changed into his board shorts. No time to waste.
And so began the slow routine that Kahu allowed. We’d sit and talk in the lounge chairs, letting the sun kiss our skin, and appreciating the coldness of the pool when we could feel our body temperatures rise. When we were ready to take on the waves, we’d make the five-minute walk (yes we timed it) down the hill to the beach, where we let the warm water toss us around before napping in the sun. Come lunchtime, it was a short five-soles tuk-tuk ride into town, where we’d dig into mountains of seafood at the outdoor tables of El Manglar (for well-done classics like ceviche and leche de tigre) or La Sazon D’Elihú (whose tiradito, conchas negras a la parmesana, and majarisco I’m still thinking about). Our afternoons including more lounging, before we’d spend hours leisurely cooking and enjoying dinner at that long table, the doors wide open to allow the salty breeze to blow through. At night, we played salsa over the massive JBL speaker and sipped icy beers.
We didn’t have to bother fighting over the bedrooms, as each one had something to offer: Two had impressive ocean views, one with a patio and the other with an open-air shower, and the third (which has two lift beds over the king), had a high-ceiling bathroom and cavernous bedroom that promised a very sound night’s sleep. After three nights of this cycle, my body—and brain—felt entirely reset from my New York City life. I was on Peruvian time, and even better, la costa norte time. Every cell in my body had dropped whatever tension it was holding on arrival. My only regret? That we didn’t drag more friends with us—I kept thinking of people in Lima who would have totally gagged over this place. I guess we’ll have to return next year.
Why you should book—and what else to know before you do
Overall, this was a five-star stay to me. Gorgeous, comfortable, and it had all the amenities I could want—and some I had zero plans to use, like the outdoor gym and desks, but which I liked knowing were there. Of course there’s also AC, filtered water, a massive full-service kitchen, laundry machines, a TV room, and a fourth smaller bedroom with a single bed. This feels like an adult home; anyone traveling with small children would probably have to really keep an eye on them given a number of ledges without rails, a pool that is fully deep-end, and the stairs required to get down to the bedrooms.
