This is the first in a series of trip reports sent to the Beetle by Globetrotter Steve who is travelling around South America and Easter Island, the lucky chap! So, if you are planning trip to Suth America or are interested in knowing more about it, you may find Steve’s trip reports of interest.
Life has it's ups and downs. On Tuesday I started the journey with a tour to the Altiplano National Parks. There were just three of us in the group, myself and two Germans. We went first to the local farmer’s market to stock up on fresh vegetables and fruit for picnics on the trip. Then we headed inland for a view of ancient petroglyphs showing herdsmen and llamas. There was a tomato farm nearby where we bought fresh produce, exceptionally huge tomatoes.
The next call was a Hari Krishne monastery where we had lunch and then started to climb. It was the main road to La Paz and there were some heavy lorries on the road, one of which had started to roll backwards and had come a cropper. We called at a fortified site over 2000 years old where the entrance to a fertile valley was guarded by a series of semi circular walls. The countryside was now very dry and we climbed through an area of cactus found only in that area of Chile. Near Socompa we went for a short walk down an Inca roadway and we started to see the first wild guanaco and llamas in the fields. We entered the village of Sacompa and looked at the very old church with its squat detached tower. From there we climbed to Putre where we were to stop for the evening. Unfortunately for me I was unable to eat the evening meal as I was feeling light-headed and wasn’t hungry. I had a very poor night’s sleep and was sick in the morning. Nevertheless I set off with the group up to Lauca National Park. There were spectacular views of the volcano across the lake and vicuña to be seen. The group went for a walk but I wasn't feeling well enough to go and so stayed with the vehicle. In fact I slept most of the time they were away. When they returned I was unable to keep fluids down. We returned to Pucalpa as planned but once there the group leader took me to a doctor who said my blood pressure was dangerously low because of the altitude and I needed to travel down to sea level immediately. They tested my blood pressure before oxygen, while breathing oxygen through a mask and then again after the mask was taken off. It immediately fell to very low levels. And so the tour leader drove me down to Arica immediately and the tour carried on without me.
The next day my appetite returned a little. I got a bus to Iquique and booked into a hotel for a couple of nights there. Iquique is a very strange city. It is set at the foot of cliffs that must be above 3000 feet high. An enormous sand dune extends into the Southern part of the city. The old downtown area was very run down and poor, but right next door are two large sandy bays and a lot of quite wealthy looking seaside developments – a casino, sailing club and smart hotels. In the old town is one long street of big houses built when the city was wealthy from the nitrate trade. This extended from an Opera House where Caruso sang to the sea. The whole street is listed and the buildings, built of timber shipped from Oregon in the 19th century, are being restored. It has all been pedestrianised with timber side walks, Victorian era lamp posts and street furniture installed and a new horse tram route is being constructed. Apart from these features it was quite a dull place and so yesterday I boarded another bus and spent four hours twisting down the spectacular coast with cliffs and mountains on one side and the Pacific on the other but nothing growing and no settlement. The road then turned inland past the Santa Elena Nitrate plant and an enormous copper mine to Calama where I changed bus and travelled the last hour to San Pedro, through the desert, as the sun set and the mountains glowed in oranges, reds and gold.
As the bus pulled in I saw one of the Germans who had been on the National Parks tour and chatted to him. I found myself a pleasant hotel and then went out for a good dinner in a restaurant with live musicians where I bumped into a retired Irish teacher from Maidstone who I had met in Arica.
After the problems of the Andes, San Pedro proved a welcome change. I took it easy on the first day, just going to the wonderful museum. I chose the same time as a SAGA group. What has happened to adventure travel? One member of the group was so overweight she wasn’t able to manage the whole museum tour and commented that the thin gold used for face masks looked as though it had been made to cover chocolate.
The next day I was feeling more adjusted to the altitude and walked out to a pre-Inca fort 3km from town. I arrived shortly after the SAGA party. The fort is built on a steep hillside where the river leaves a gorge and forms the oasis. The stonework was interesting, similar if cruder than Inca work. There was a maze of rooms, passages and who knows what leading up to an excellent viewpoint. The SAGA group didn't get there. The area has an interesting history. The Incas were only dominant for 60 years. The local people just submitted to them so were not defeated. However when news came that the Spanish had defeated the Incas the community leaders decided they weren't going to be dictated to about changing their names to match a new not understood religion. They therefore rebelled and retreated to their 11th Century fort. The Spanish, with horses and assisted by some local antagonistic neighbours defeated them in short time and executed the leaders. San Pedro de Atacama then became the sleepy backwater it remained until recently.
Next day, feeling full of confidence, I joined a tour to the Salar de Atacame to see the birds. The Salar looked like thawing snow, a grubby white and crunchy underfoot, with surface water in places. In the distance the distinct shape of the flamingos could be seen although even with strong binoculars you couldn't tell what species of the three found there were in sight. When they flew they looked even pinker and had an unusual Concorde profile with the wings far back along their bodies. In the distance Volcano Lascar steamed. It erupts every four years, the last time being 2000! It seems it throws out ash, not lava, and the winds always take the ash into Argentina. So that was alright.
The next stop was the isolated village of Socaire which had a very small stone church and tower. The church had become unsafe and so the community built a replica on a new town square but were now repairing the original. Around were terraces used for growing vegetables but slowly going out of use. Local men work in the Lithium extraction plant at the Salire and so the local economy is becoming cash based.
From the village we ascended to the deep blue Lakes of Miscanti and Miñques at above12,000 feet. We walked along a ridge from one to the other with stunning views and then back close to the shore. It was an important site for the flamingos to breed. They’re poor parents producing one chick which they will abandon if disturbed. It was the breeding season so we had to keep back from the lake shore. I was pleased to manage the walking without breathlessness or losing lunch!
The final stop was the village of Tocanao which is at the end of a gorge with a stream flowing through it. The stream is used for irrigating figs, quince, grapes and other fruit. The contrast between the arid highlands and the deep green of the valley was outstanding. It reminded me of Dovedale with surreal colour enhancement. Walking along the valley was a real pleasure after the heat and exertions of the rest of the day.
San Pedro de Atacama has an odd mix of visitors. There is a 'hippy' Chilean element, European gap year students, young European Professionals and elderly Islington or Baden Baden types having an alternative retirement holiday. The restaurants are a little more expensive than usual in Chile but have some adventurous combinations on the menu and the wine is delicious.
Well, I moved on to Antofagasta. Antofagasta is lack lustre. It's just a busy city and a bit down at heel. I decided to spend half a day looking at an industrial museum a little out of town. At the bus station this morning there were several ticket windows with bored staff sitting behind them and closed signs firmly in place. I went to the enquiry desk where three men were assisting one customer. After a while one broke away to see me. Can I have a ticket to Bacquedano I asked. I was told to get on the bus already in the terminal quickly and buy a ticket from the conductor. After half an hour the bus left. (Why the hurry?) “Bacquedano” I said to the conductor. “Calama?” he replied. “No, Baquedano.” I said. “Maria Elena?” he said. “No. Baquedano,” I said firmly and pointed to it in heavy print in my guide book. “Ah, Baquedano” he said, “$1 000”. I paid.
The museum was hopeless, uncared for, vandalised and derelict. I nosed around, did a sketch and went top the village for lunch. I had a tasty empenada and a cola for about a pound and then asked where was the best place to get a bus back to Antofagasta. The cafe owner said they were every half hour and you could flag them down infront of the cafe. He would bring me a chair so I could sit in the shade. As he was telling me this a bus went past. I sat in the shade for an hour before the next bus came. I waved. The driver and conductor waved back and drove past in a half empty bus. I decided to walk up to the police check point at the entry to town were all buses and trucks have to stop. After half an hour of standing in the early afternoon heat a bus came and I got on. He then stopped and picked someone else up outside the cafe where I had been sitting half an hour earlier.
Back in town I felt I deserved a coffee and lemon pie. After quite a while the waiter returned with the coffee but said there was no lemon pie. I’m going to treat myself to a nice sea food dinner and white wine. Wish me luck.
Next Steve goes to Easter Island.