Coastal Drive - along Chile´s Hwy 1

San Pedro de Atacama is sort of out in the middle of nowhere in Chile´s Atacama desert.  We were trying to get there from Iquique and let me tell you it´s a process.  We woke up in the morning and caught a cab to the market where we had bought bus tickets the prior day and been told that that was where the bus would be leaving from.  As we climb out of the cab, I pull out the tickets, date - check, departure time - with half an hour to spare, bus terminal - Terminal de Autobuses, Esmerelda.  Um, we´re at the Mercado Central. We asked a girl at a different bus company´s ticket counter and were told that indeed, we were at the wrong place to catch our bus and needed to take a cab to get there.  So we go to find a taxi.  There are two men leaning against the first of 3 yellow sedans.  A third man stood facing them.  I asked about a ride to Esmerelda.  One told me 30 Lucas (sort of like saying "bucks" but here it's 30 THOUSAND pesos (which would be 60 dollars).  I stared blankly back and he winked and erupted in laughter.  We start to walk away, he calls after us, "no, no 2 lucas," but I've already shut down.  We hailed a cab that had a woman sitting in the passenger's seat.  I asked the driver if he would take us to Esmerelda but he said he wasn't going that direction. As we shut the door he says "oye" (listen), we open the door again and he gave us directions to the street where we could catch a cab going in the right direction to take us to Esmerelda.  We hail another cab a block up, as directed.  "Buenos dias" we say as we climb in.  The cab driver didn't recognize the name but the passenger (who must have bathed in cologne and not rinsed) in the front seat did.  We drove along, the cab driver not slowing down for barking dogs, or anything, for that matter.  The car pulled over to let our Mr. Cologne - I called ciao after him and he said hasta luego (see you later) as he slammed the door.  We pulled up to the bus station and a proper bus station it was - high ceilings, long parking spaces for buses, a cafe, ticket counter, etc. 

We buy breakfast, warm chaparritas, similar to empanada but with a flaky dough and filled with cheese, ham and tomato - the tomato has that soft acidic taste it gets from being cooked.  I ordered a coffee, too.  We sat at the bus station and had our breakfast.  Before boarding the bus we paid 300 Chilean pesos (60 US cents) to get a token to use the bathroom. 

Chaparrita

Ham, cheese and tomato chaparrita

 

As the bus backs out of the station, the second driver stood in the aisle, collecting tickets, noting phone numbers (emergency), ID #s (passports, in our case), and names.  I looked out the window at the Pacific Ocean methodically crashing its blue-grey waves on the shore.  This scene isn´t unfamiliar to me - driving south along a Pacific West Coast.  The sky is grey, fog still thick in the air.  It´s only 8:30 am.  There are tents set up on the beach, fishermen layng out the morning´s catch; the birds, gote, cormorrants, seagulls - the fishermen´s shadow, wait for a chance to steal a snack.  We drive along, the cormorants are perched on the tall white street lamps that line the boardwalk.  Every now and again the red head of a vulture appears, lifting itself from under his/her black wing.  There are more clam and mussel shells than there is sand on the beach.   It´s incredible, absolutely beautiful!  We pass the camelid pen: guanaco, and llamas hudled together, munching on hay.  They are perfectly groomed, unlike the ones you see out in the wild.  Their colors are magnificent, a soft cream color and another is deep chocolate brown.  On my right is the ocean and to my left the mountaneous desert. 

fishing boats, right outside of Iquique, heading south along the Pacific Coast

Pacific Ocean, view from bus, south of Iquique, Chile

more pretty ocean

A couple hours into the drive we stop at customs, we are heading south, deeper into Chile and I guess this is standard procedure.  We lined up with our luggage on a table and a custom´s officer, when she gets to me asks that I open my pack.  I unzip my beat up backpack and she lifts the top flap to reveal a plastic ziploc bag of electronics over my clothes.  "Gracias, mi amor," as she squeezes my arm.  That was quick, I think to myself.  We are instructed to wait until the bus moves forward - the bus pulls up 10 meters, we board and are on our way.  Seemingly useless but whatever. 

We drop people off at Tocapilla, a coastal town in northern Chile and a woman climbs on the bus selling sandwiches.  "Palta, pollo, mayonesa" (avocado, chicken, mayonaise) she calls, "bebidas" (drinks).  The sandwiches are individually wrapped in celofan wrap and stacked neatly in a tupperware.  She sells them for 1000 Chilean pesos (2 US dollars).  A man in a butcher's coat gets on the bus.  He had wavy salt and pepper hair that was combed back nicely, like Elvis' but without the hair grease.  He had a huge underbite and his tongue peeked through a gap in his two front teeth.  He was carrying a weathered styrofoam box and was calling "empanadas al horno. pollo, carne, queso, pollo y queso" (oven fired empanadas. chicken, meat, cheese, chicken and cheese).  Also going for 1000 Chilean pesos.  He stayed on the bus when the bus finally took off and got off several blocks later at his bakery, this must be a routine.  

 

Los Andes

Eventually we make it to San Pedro de Atacama, a small town of about 5000 people.  It's red adobe and just gorgeous.  It's located in the Antafogasta region of Chile and is part of the Atacama desert.  San Pedro is known for desert sports like sand boarding and is a common jumping off point to other places around the desert like the Geysers de Tatio, Valle de la Luna, and Lagunas Altiplanicas.  More to come about San Pedro...

cute town of San Pedro de Atacama

adobe wall, with dried sticks and twigs built into the wall to keep people out of one's yard

coppersmith's shop, built around a tree :)

hello mountain, San Pedro de Atacama, Chile

sunset in San Pedro de Atacama, Chile

men having a beer at a restaurant in San Pedro de Atacama, Chile

Morning Adventure

3:55 am.  The wind is blowing the Chilean flag that flies over Hostal La Ruca.  The bus is meant to pick me up at 4:00.  I do some stretches in the middle of the street.  It's not as cold as I had expected.  Down the street, 2 people - gender indistinguishable from their winter gear, appear, also waiting for a shuttle.  I didn't sleep a wink last night so my body is just going through the motions.  I lean my pack down against the hostal wall.  I pace the street back and forth.  I sea headlights,  my bus!  No.  False alarm.  The wind picks up every now and again and I decide to stand in the corner to shield myself.  The big wooden gate from the hostal opens and I'm startled by a man, "Buenos dias!" I say good morning back, hand over my chest.  He apologizes for startling me and his wife emerges from the dark courtyard.  It's 4:15 now.  They're from Santiago, also going to the geysers.  Headlights.  A charter bus passes witout slowing.  Another letdown. 

Up the street a guy falls off his bike under a street light.  "Esta tomado" (he's smashed) comments my companion.  The bicyclist stumbles to pick up his bike.  My companion narrates "Eso es.  Una pierna. Eso, si. Oy, no.  Se cayo de nuevo.  A ver, una, eso, si, y la otra" (That's it.  One leg. There you go, yup. Oh, no.  He fell again.  Let's ser.  There you go, yup and now the other). While we are watching, extremely entertained, a tour bus pulls up.  We approach but the tour guide only calls the names of the other two people.  She asks me with which company I have booked, Terra Xtreme, I respond and she says they will pick me up shortly.  My companions climb onto the bus and wave farewell.  I put my pack down again.  I pace.  I stop across the street for a better view of oncoming traffic and think "a watch pot never boils."  As I chuckle to myself, the street light goes out.  I laugh out loud and cross the street again to the hostal sie.  The light flickers back on.  4:25.  I do more stretches, sing myself a song, and...headlights! Now it's me.  I get on the bus.  The guide reads my name off a clip board, I climb into the front row seat and start to peel off my many layers.  Beanie, globes, coat, scarf.  We zigzag through the narrow streets of San Pedro de Atacama picking up other groggy eyed tourists, each checking their name with the clip board and sleepily stumbling aboard the bus.  Once we've got a full bus and have made our way to the maid road the guide stands up and introduces himself.  His name is Manuel and he is gorgeous.  He wears wide, white-rim glasses and a ball cap.  His legs are clearly mountin-man-muscle legs and his arms are tan, hairless and sculpted.  His upper lip is shaped like an upside down U, exposing his big buck teeth; he has a blonde goatee although the hair on his head is black.  He tells us the plan for the day in Spanish and then in English.  He invites us to sleep as it will be at least 2 hours to the top of the mountin where we will see Los Geysers de Tatio (Tatio geysers). 

I'm pumped! I even have my bikini on underneath my many layers because there's a hot spring that makes a swimming hole and there's nothing better than being in hot water in the middle of winter.  I curl into a warm ball and pass out against the window which isn't very warm because it leaks cold air but it'll do.  I wake up and out of the windshielf I see white specks and streaks over a black backdrop.  For a minute I don't know where I am.  Ah, snow.  Cool!  Although I don't know because yesterday the tour company almost didn't sell me a ticket on account of the weather conditions.  Its 5:30 now.  We arrive at a landing with a few buildings and several other tour buses.  Manuel explains that is's snowing a lot and we may not make it to the geysers but we'll try.  He asks if there are any questions.  Yours truly needs a bathroom.  The snow outside is pure, soft powder and it's not too cold but the wind is picking up freshly fallen snow and swaying it to and fro.  We board the bus again and go on our way.  Several hundred meters up, the bus stops and the driver, Gabriel, tries to start it again, unsuccessfully.  It's pitch black outside but the ground is snow white.  Manuel gets to up say they're going to try to get us out of the snow, if they can.  He and Gabriel get out and start shoveling the snow around the tires.  The Brazilians next to me are videotaping themselves telling the story in Portugese and although I don't understand everything they're talking about how we're stuck but we have food and water to get us through should we be stranded.  We are there for about 20-30 minutes and finally Gabriel succeeds in not only starting the bus, but having it move forward.  The Brazilian woman next to me starts clapping.  We go up and up and up.  And then the bus stops.  Gabriel tries to start it but no.  And this time we have that awful smell of burnt clutch.  Manuel and Gabriel get out and start shoveling again.  After 15 minutes, Manuel informs us that we will not be making it up to the geysers, we don't have chains (mistake #7) and there is simply too much powder, over ice, to drive.  At this point, half the bus is outside making snowballs and taking photos.  Gabriel turns the bus around and we head down the mountain.  It's dawn now and the sky is changing color by the instand.  We head back down to Machuca (a little lake) to have breakfast.  It's white, everything white.  The little bushes have soft brown patches around them from where the earth was shielded by the bush.  A vicuña darts across the street.  A vicuña is a member of the camelid family, like a llama, however the vicuña is not domesticated, it is wild.

We stop for breakfast.  White bread rolls, cheeses, marmalades, butter.  Next door someone is frying empanadas and sopaipillas and selling them for 1000 Chilean pesos (2 US dollars). 

On our way down the snow patches are becoming less and less.  It's gorgeous, the adobe colored earth peaking out under a bed of pristine white snow.  Gabriel is now laying on the horn.  Hm?  Maybe it's a one way road and he's notifying people coming up the road of our existence?  We pull off onto a dirt road and park.  Gabriel grabs a blue gym bag and takes off; we hear him yelling outside.  Manuel gets up to explain.  Gabriel is Atacameño, a Native American people group of South America.  His sister is one of two inhabitants of the village.  Whenever he does this route he stops to bring her things from town. 

snow out the windshield

Village of Machuca covered in snow

snow covered red earth

pretty birds!!!

village of 2.  That's Gabriel climbing down to meet his sister

the village where Manuel's sister raises llamas and has a small garden

panoramic view of the Andes in the background and the village on the left