san pedro de atacama

San Pedro de Atacama is a mere 2 hours from Calama so it was quite a newly recovered experience to get off a bus without a numb a*se. The town is tiny and the style of the streets and buildings reminded me very much of scenes from spagetti western movies. The little oasis has a population of 1,000 and it shows in the tourist-local ratio. It is considered the gathering point for the backpacking mob in Northern Chile. That's clear too... tye dye, sandal wearing boheniam types. Some use the place to get to the Salt Flats in Southern Bolivia (seen that already) and there are sandboarding opportunities too. Done that already too!

For me, I wanted to see the Valle de la luna (Moon Valley) at sunset. I rented a mountain bike and covered the 12km. At sunset the valley is awash with amazing colours and as the landscape is more a moonscape than earth, it is worth seeing. But being a gobsh*te I only realised I had forgotten my camera when I was well out of the town. Ah well! Another thing I really enjoyed there was the star observatory. Bear in mind that this town is remote and small, the sky at night is fantastic and the tour agency are geared for it with telescopes and all.

But again it is damn expensive. My room was tiny and cost a fortune. The showers were freezing. The breakfast was okay though. The town was lively though.This can be attributed mainly to the approaching Independence Day celebrations. Many Chileans were arriving and taking advantage of the two day holiday. On knowing this I realised to my horror that a significant number of Chileans would be on the move in the coming days and here there was a a big problem.

I asked around a number of bus companies and virtually all buses were booked for the next four days. There is no rail network to speak of. Everywhere I was told 'nada'. This would be a tragedy as I had to be in Santiago in four days to catch a flight to Easter Island. My life was flying before me at the time. I eventually decided to make a fast exit on one of the few remaining seats to Calama. There I had the same problem with seat availabilty so I bit the bullet and bought an expensive flight direct to Santiago. It would mean that I would miss three planned stopping points but better to see Easter Island.

The next morning the flight was a very early departure. I waited on deserted streets for a taxi to get to the airport. There were no taxis! I kept waiting growing ever more concerned and demented. Then finally one passed, I hailed, it stopped. And who should the driver be ? The old geezer from three days ago who I had denounced as a 'bad man'. What a turn of events! How embarrassing! But I had no other choice, this time we agreed a more modest fare and it was with wonderous relief that I got to the check in on time. No doubt the taxi driver had a good old laugh at his luck in having brought the indignant gringo to heel!

calama

So it was back over the Andes and inland to the desert for the journey to Calama. There were the usual stops en route. Fruit control, drug control, passport control. They are pretty hot on control here. At each regional district there is a check point. They seem particularly paranoid about bugs and insects as they tend to spray things a lot. My bag is nicely proofed now against the little blighters.

Calama is a smallish place. Known mainly for being close to the worlds largest copper mine. I visited the huge site and it is impressive but I was more amazed by the size of the trucks. Massive. For example, the wheels are gigantic. The tires cost $20,000 each. There are nearby sites where migratory pink flamincos hang out but it was the right time of the year to see them. Then there are geysers which truthfully don't interest me much.

I also took a trip to a recreation of an indigneous village. Not much to write about on that apart from having an argument with the taxi driver about the ridiculous sum of money he charged me. In a way it was my fault as I misunderstood the fare but he was still ripping me off. That I understood. The problem is I am still trying to get my head around hundreds in Spanish. Thousands are no problem but the fare to which I agreed turned out to be four times more than I had thought. I payed him and showed my disgust with some finger wiggling and a chorus of 'Malo Hombre!'.

Apart from that it is a fairly unremarkable place plopped in the desert. The Atacama desert being the driest in the world. Every thing is pricey too. I suppose the locals miners have a bit of dough to throw around at the weekends. For me, it was more of a staging post before getting to San Pedro de Atacama.

iquique

As soon as the bus pulled out of the station I noted with astonishment that the siesta is very much alive in Chile. The coach was full and I found that I was the only one awake. It was almost as if everyone had been put into a trance. No movies, no bingo... just an endless expanse of barren, jagged desert to look at.

The approach into the coastal city of Iquique is quite incredible. The road weaves down from the heights of the Andes to a narrow strip of flatland bordering the coast. There lies the city. Not only do they have the Andes to their backs but also a huge 600 metre sand dune. I couldn't help speculate on the consequences of a tsunami to the towns folk. But they seem quite well prepared for it with rallying points, escape routes all marked out along the sea front.

Although I felt I was making good progress with my Spanish, I have become somewhat unstuck in Chile. I know they are noted for their use of slang but the accent throws me too. So I am resorting to the old reliable pleading of lingual ignorance. Silly gringo! Another thing that I am surprised about is the chubbiness of the girls. The South American girl is normally a picture of near perfect beauty so it was quite a shock. I put it down to their love of the Chilean snack, the 'completo'. This greasy little thing is just a hot dog lavished with countless condiments. Naturally I wolfed one down pretty soon.

It is a pretty town though with nice colonial features. The Plaza being very impressive. But it is a little shamed by the numerous bars with barely clothed ladies selling their wares to the soldiers garrisoned nearby. Given that my drinking curfew was still in effect I didn't get the opportunity to make any further observations!

arica

It was a quick two hour trip over the border from Tacna to Arica. Cheap too at $2. I got to the bus station to find a 'collectivo' and had to wait a little while. Outside the bus station I had my most meaningful and lengthty conversation in Spanish yet. With a Peruvian whino! I wasn't drunk and neither was he but amazingly I understood most of what he was saying! Warnings about Chileans, crime and the lousy food there. All fastinating topics coming from a vagrant.

The border crossing into Chile was fairly painless. Although I must say the guy with the sniffer dog did seem overly zealous in egging the dog on to find something in my bag. The dog was excited but didn't bark thankfully as that would have meant a full search of the bag. Of course I had nothing to fear but these animals are not infallible. I reckon the dog was more interested in my bread rolls. But I was waved through.

My first encounter with a Chilean wasn't so good. I needed to get some of their currency and I could not find an exchange place so I spoke with a walking exchange bloke. He gave me a rubbish rate and made a fine profit from my ignorance of the official rate. The taxi driver did me too for a nice fare. As soon as I recovered my balance, I woke up to the other reality of Chile. Compared to its neighbours, it is damn expensive. Really expensive !! I would stand in shock looking at the prices on restaurant menus.

Arica is a mall coastal town and surrounded by desert. As I was still on my alcohol prohibition I didn't really sample the nightlife in the short time I was there. I saw the sights. An old military museum is perched on top of a hill overlooking the city is the main drawcard. Nationalism is kind of rampant here. The sight is endorsed by Pinochet, of course. It seems the Mr Eiffel was popular here too and was commissioned to design the main church on the Plaza. Apparentlty he never even came to these parts but had everything fabricated in his Paris studio and shipped over. That would explain its unremarkable appearance I suppose.

Another thing that quickly dawned on me about Chile was the relative lack of street vendors. In Peru, it's impossible not to trip over several of them on an average walk. I grew fond of buying a fresh fruit juice in the mornings. I liked having my shoes shined too. All very cheaply found too. But these professions are strangely absent on this side of the border.

I was starting to miss Peru.