Day 4/Part 4–

We arrived in San Pedro de Atacama late in the afternoon and we were greeted by hordes of tourists, backpackers, vagabonds, and stray dogs. Of course, there were lots of locals, too, especially young children. The kids were playing on the playground, riding their bikes, and skateboarding.  The town itself was made up of a series of narrow roads, that seemingly had no discernible pattern or structure.  Humble homes and businesses, most in need of serious repair and paint, lined the road on both sides.  Adobe walls topped with straw and shards of glass created boarders between the houses, and along the roads where there were no structures.

We needed to fill up the tank with gas, and we were grateful that Pierre was able to get the GPS on his phone to work.  We typed in ‘gas station’ and the device indicated that there were two nearby.  One appeared to be smack dab in the center of town, the other was situated on the outskirts. We opted for the later, and we followed the directions on the screen, which was weaving us up and down narrow, dusty streets.  Dogs zipped across the street almost non-stop, and it appeared that school was also letting out.  To put it mildly—it was pure chaos!

We looped around the edge of the town and finally saw the gas station in the distance.  As we approached, we saw that it was under construction.  Frustrated, we reprogramed the device and headed off again.  As we approached our target the roads narrowed (if that was even possible), and Pierre was on high alert for dogs and people, because both repeatedly darted across the road without warning.

‘The Bitch’ (our nickname for the GPS) announced, “You’ve arrived.”

We looked from side-to-side and saw a mud wall to our left, and the entrance to a hotel on our right.  We had no other choice but to keep going straight, which landed us in the middle of the tourist area.  We drove down the little street lined with merchant stalls on both sides and clogged with pedestrian traffic.  We were kicking up a huge cloud of dust behind our camper, and one of the shop keeper’s shook his fist at us and yelled something in Spanish. It was so tight that I could have helped a passerby blow their nose, if I had held a tissue out the window at just the right moment.

We finally made it down to the end of the street, and Pierre pulled over to the side of the road.  We were hot, tired, and frustrated.  We decided that we would try to go to another town to find gas, but it appeared that there weren’t any other options within at least a one-hundred-mile radius in any direction.  We reprogramed the GPS, and once again followed the directions down the narrow streets.  We hit the same location, and she announced, “You’ve arrived.”

To the left we saw the mud wall, and to the right, we saw the entrance to the hotel.  We looked again, and this time, we noticed a tiny sign on the wall that said, ‘gas station’ in Spanish.  The arrow was pointing toward the gate that was labeled, ‘hotel.’  We followed a small road around the bend, and there, hidden from view, was a tiny gas station.  We got in line behind a row of cars, and we quickly discovered that the little dirt road was the entrance, but also the exit.  Pierre maneuvered the camper through the small area, and then up to the pump when it was our turn. 

As we were pumping gas, we looked up and saw a huge truck squeeze down the road.  Everyone had to pull over tight to the wall, to allow them to pass.  When the driver got out of the truck, he immediately started talking to us, and we discovered that he was from Germany. In fact, he was born a short distance from Pierre’s home town.

He and his wife had bought and refurbished a military truck in Germany, and then had it shipped over to South America.  The truck was a beast! They were driving through South America and had already covered 40,000+ kms.   It was fun talking to them, and we expressed amazement at how easily he seemed to be able to get his big truck into such a tiny space.  His answer was simple, “After driving so many miles, I know exactly how much space I take up, and most people just get out of my way!”

Words to live by! 

We followed him out of the station, and it was so easy to follow in his wake—everyone DID get out of his way!

After getting gas we parked the camper in a parking lot and walked into town for dinner. We found a cute little place with delicious food. One of our favorite things about the meals in Chile is the “sauce” and bread that is brought out as a starter. Each restaurant puts their own twist on their sauce, but all of them were so tasty!

Day 4/Part 1–

When we woke up in the morning, we were excited to see what the ruins looked like in the daylight. We could see that they were old, but we have no way of telling how old because there weren’t any informational signs, and I haven’t been able to find anything about them on the internet.  It was clear from what we could see, that there were a series of small rooms, each having a single door, and most had a small window.

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The structures were made of what appeared to be an adobe-style mud.  There was nothing left of the roof, and most of the walls were crumbling and falling apart.  Large chucks of the walls were laying on the ground, and garbage was strewn about everywhere.

Pierre decided to fly his drone, so we could get a view from above.  When we looked at the drone pictures, we were surprised to discover that buildings stretched out for a considerable distance.  The ruins will remain a mystery for now, but I’m going to try to find out more about them when I get home.

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Day 3–

Today was a driving day—Chile is a long country!  We followed Route 5 north and hugged the coast for miles.  We stopped on the beach (and I mean that we literally parked on the beach) and had lunch.  The view was spectacular. 

Stray dogs seem to be a big problem here in Chile, and we were greeted by a small pack of them while we were eating.  I know I can’t save the world, but it made me feel so sad to see them begging for food.  They were “rewarded” with several pieces of ham from our sandwiches.  When they realized that we weren’t going to give them any more food, they trotted off down the beach. We watched them until they were just tiny specks in the distance.

After getting back onto the highway, we saw a huge shrine that was erected further down the coast, so we stopped to see it and to admire the view of the ocean. The man who died must have loved the sea. 

Shrines dotted along the highway are another common theme here.  Some are small and humble, while others are elaborate.  Many have lights and glowing reflector strips, so they can also be seen at night. We saw one that had a full-sized car next to it.  Most look like miniature churches, with a little building and a cross, but they are all unique and pay tribute to a love one who has died.

We eventually turned away from the water, and out into the dessert. If you can imagine the desert scene from Star Wars, then you’ll understand what we were seeing–miles and miles of sand in every direction.  Toward the middle of the day, we entered a mining region, and we could see big trucks in the distance with plumes of dust trailing behind them as they traveled across the desert.

Later, when we pulled over to take a break, we saw that two gigantic dump trucks were parked across the street from the rest area, so we walked over to take a closer look. We were stunned to see how big the trucks were.   I took a picture of Pierre next to one of them for perspective—he looks teeny-tiny in comparison! 

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The sun goes down early in July, so once again, we found ourselves driving after dark.  Chile is a country that allows you to pull over and park/camp virtually anywhere, but it’s difficult when you can’t see what’s on either side of the road in the pitch dark.  We saw a highway sign that said ‘Ruins,’ so we decided to park near them. 

We could see a vague outline of them against the night sky, but we would have to wait until morning until we could really see what they looked like.  The night sky in Chile is beautiful—no light pollution, so the stars pop out brilliantly!

Day 2/Part 3–

When it was time to start watching the eclipse, we set up our chairs on a tiny cliff overlooking the beach.  There were people everywhere, but surprisingly, it didn’t feel over crowded.  The American family was off to our right and slightly behind us, a small group youngish people were on the left, and a husband and wife were manning a camera off to our right. Everyone else was spread out on the beach or sitting on other little cliffs down the edge of the shoreline.

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As we waited, we watched the American kid throwing a rock at something that he found on the beach.  Pierre and I recognized it as the dead pelican that we had spotted earlier. 

The boy’s father finally figured out what it was and yelled, “Son, don’t touch it.  It’s a dead animal.”

The kid kept pummeling it with rocks and yelled back, “No, it’s a prehistoric creature!”

Right about at this time, I noticed that a young guy next to me had gotten into a mummy-type sleeping bag and that he was smoking a joint.

The distinctive smell of pot wafted past me. The American father must have noticed it as well, because he sprinted toward the guy, leaving his son who was still trying to decapitate the dead bird, and yelled,  “Hey, man—do you mind if I have some?”

The guy in the sleeping bag grinned at him and held out his joint.  The dad excitedly yelled back to his wife, “Honey, honey—hurry up, I’ll blow it in your mouth!”

His wife ran over to join him, and sure enough, I watched him blow smoke into her mouth.  As they giggled and laughed, I glanced over and saw that his son was still mutilating the bird carcass. The dad noticed as well, and yelled, “Honey—I told you to stop.  We can’t touch dead animals.”

The kid yelled back, “I told you…it’s an ancient creature!”

The eclipse had started, and as the American family was fooling around with a dead pelican and getting high, everyone else was ‘oohing and aahing’ over the solar spectacle happening above us.  The moon was starting to cover the sun, making it look like a Pacman!  Chomp!

We looked through our glasses every few minutes, and each time was thrilling.  People were yelling and cheering, and the atmosphere felt electrified by the excitement around us.

Chomp! Chomp! With each “bite,” the sun appeared to be getting smaller and smaller. 

A man in a motorized para glider buzzed over the beach. Everyone below waved and cheered for him. 

As the time of the full eclipse drew nearer, the air became cool and still.  The light dimmed, almost like someone was slowly pushing the dimmer switch on a lamp. 

When we could finally take our glasses off, everyone cheered, but that soon changed to awed silence, sprinkled now and then with, “Wow’s,” and other such utterances.

I became so overwhelmed with emotion that I started to cry as I watched in wonder and amazement. It’s probably the most beautiful display of nature that I’ve ever witnessed.  There wasn’t a single cloud in the sky, so we had a perfect view.  The ring of the sun around the moon lasted for slightly over two minutes.  Although that was beautiful, what probably touched me the most was when it became dark and everything took on a mystical appearance.  The water was shimmery, and the light hit the mountains in dark and light patches. 

The whole experience was incredible, and now I understand why people are ‘hooked’ after seeing a full solar eclipse for the first time.  This was my first experience and Pierre’s second.  The man we met from England had seen three before this one, and the guy he was traveling with had seen nineteen!  Oh yes—we better stock up on viewing glasses, because I already want to see another one…it was incredible.

Day 1/Part 3–

After leaving the rental place, we headed to the grocery store to pick up food and water for the next few days.  Not long after getting on the road, we spotted a little fruit stand along the highway, and we decided to stop.  We only speak a few words of Spanish, and the people running the stand only spoke a few words of English, but somehow, we all made it work. We ended up buying a big bag of oranges, two cokes, and two empanadas.

I don’t want to make the process seem as simple as…we walked up to the stand and placed our order.  As you might imagine, it was a bit more complicated.

I saw the cooler, and asked, “Coca-Cola?”

The lady responded, “Queso?”

“Queso?” I parroted.

She pointed to homemade wheels of unwrapped cheese in the cooler, “Queso?”

“Oh–no, queso. Coca-Cola and un empanda.”

She brightened and asked how many empanadas that I wanted by holding up one, then two, then three fingers.  Then I assumed that she tried to tell me what kind were available, but the only thing I understood was ‘empanada queso.’

Pierre doesn’t like hot cheese, so I replied, “No—no empanada queso. Carne?”

“Si, carne!”

Now we were getting someplace.  I happily gave her my order and held up two fingers as an insurance policy, for her to understand that I wanted two. “Dos empanadas con carne.”

She smiled, indicating that she had understood my weak attempt at speaking her language.  She walked over to her kitchen area, and then bent over her stove top to heat up my order. 

As we waited, an older man motioned for me to follow him to the edge of the stall. He pointed toward avocados in mesh bags that were hanging from the beams near the ceiling.  He said something that I didn’t understand, so I asked, “Avocados?”

He smiled and pointed to the hillside.  When he saw that I didn’t understand, he pointed to the avocados and then swept his hand across the trees in the foreground, and then continued until he was pointing to the trees that were growing half-way up the side of the mountain. 

“That’s where these avocados are grown?” I guessed out loud.”

“Si’!”

Once again, he pointed to the trees on the other side of the highway.  It occurred to me in that moment, that I had never seen an avocado tree before. I could tell that he was quite pleased with our exchange, because he was grinning broadly.  We stood side-by-side for a few moments and silently looked out over the trees together.  He tapped me on the shoulder and pointed up the mountain, and then motioned what I understood as ‘over the mountain.’

“They grow on the other side, too?”

He didn’t reply, either because he didn’t understand me, or he just wanted to get to his punchline. He made a motion like he was climbing up and over the mountain using ropes, and as he was ‘climbing’ he was ‘picking’ avocados.

He carefully watched my expression, and as soon as I started to laugh, he joined in laughing heartily.

The woman who had heated up the empanadas had finished her task, and she approached us and handed me a brown paper bag that had been folded down neatly at the top. 

I was excited to taste the ‘fruits of my labor’—an empanada carne.  After getting back into the camper, I unfolded the bag and pulled one out.   I took a big bite and wailed, “It’s filled with leeks!”

Pierre laughed at me, and of course, I saw the humor as well.  The dough was folded neatly around more leeks than you can imagine, one hardboiled egg, and three black olives (that still had pits).  It was an odd combination, but not horrible. We laughed about it for hours, and on a side-note, the oranges were delicious.

We got on the road much later than we had planned.  The sun goes down early, because it’s winter here, so we drove for several hours in the dark.  With about 45-60 minutes left to our destination, we decided to pull over and find a place to stay for the night. One problem stood in our way—there wasn’t a single exit where we could pull off.  It was the strangest thing—we drove for miles, and we didn’t go past an exit.  Finally, we saw an exit, and we pulled off, not knowing what we’d find.  We found ourselves in a tiny ramshackle village, next to the ocean. 

We drove around until we found an access road to the beach. It was a dirt road littered with pot holes, and there was a significant drop-off to our left as we wove down the tiny road to the beach.    At the bottom, we saw two other campers parked together, so we pulled in next to them. I know “three’s a crowd,” but it looked like they were already settled in for the night, and we hoped that they wouldn’t mind the company.

We fell asleep listening to the waves crashing on the beach.