Dear Friend,
It was outside on a basketball court on a summer evening that I found my Christmas Spirit. While little kids ran around playing tag in summer dresses and t-shirts, I stood in plain view of the manger and baby Jesus as the Spanish priest delivered “Misa de Gallo,” Chile’s Christmas Eve Mass.
For days and weeks I listened to out-of-place Christmas music as I walked the sidewalks of Santiago and sat in nameless cafés sipping iced coffee to kill the heat. Day by day, Santiago transformed into the merriest version of itself that it could. Christmas trees lit up the windows of hotels, decorations hung from street lamps and street vendors exchanged their watches and nail-clippers for Christmas cards and wrapping paper.
Getting back from the Pirate Journey left me anxious to see friends in the city and to get prepped for Christmas. Three weeks on the road without sleeping in the same bed for more than two nights can do that to you. I probably sound like a coked-out musician on tour, but the truth is that I really did miss Santiago, so to come back to the city as it was preparing to celebrate Navidad was a really good feeling.
I only had a few days alone to recover from my 48-hour bus ride back to Santiago before Nate got into town. I picked him up from the airport on a hot Monday morning. Actually, every morning is hot now. It’s ridiculous. But we had a good time seeing the city, meeting my friends and touring a little bit. Trying to be active in the city during the day is hard though because of the heat. Nate wasn’t used to it… especially having come from the Harbor where it snowed recently… and even I wasn’t used to it having had time to “get used” to it. After a week of catching up, Nate took off, and I was left to prep for the Holidays.
Before I tell you about how I spent Christmas in Chile, let me first tell you, my friend, about how good it is to be in the company of those you love. Having Nate here for a little while was a fresh reminder of my friends back in Washington. Although I feel as though I’ve done an alright job of staying in touch with everyone back home, it is also amazing to find out everything I haven’t heard about over the past few months. Anyways, it was good to see a familiar place from back home.
As for Christmas, well, while Nate was here we hung out with Taylor and Courtney after they got back from their tour of the south. We made cookies and decorated their apartment with a fire place with a mantle and stockings and a menorah. We also made a Christmas tree with decorations and presents and we cut out a few snowflakes as well. Just have to say… I discovered that I am a boss at making snowflakes. In case you were curious. We also watched some of Christmas Vacation but Taylor and I fell asleep in the middle of it and we never did finish the movie. But we made sure to rock out to Christmas music all day and the next day when we made breakfast. Good times.
The 22nd was Patty’s Christmas Party and her surprise party. Not here, but back home. I was luckily able to skype at the Christmas party and talk to everyone and see their brilliant faces. The undoubted highlight of the party was playing Catch Phrase with my friends as we sat in a circle. I got to blurt out answers to my team over the skype connection, and when it was my turn, Mark was kind enough to hold up the catch phrase thingy in front of the screen so I could read it. It was tough, and my team lost. I’ll take that blame, haha. But it really was fun. That same night was Patty’s surprise going-away party. Bummed I missed out, but I’m thankful that the planning team (mostly some amazing Moms) let me record a video for Patty. What I’m not thankful for is the Gateway and their news prioritization. If you’re reading this, Gateway editorial staff, I have issues with what you choose to run in your paper.
Anyways, my own bitching aside, on the 23rd I got invited by Court and Tay to go out to dinner with them and their families that visited them here in Santiago for Christmas. It was a bit awkward but the food was amazing and it was great to talk to their families for a bit. They’re all traveling right now so here’s to hoping that they’re having an amazing time. It was funny because after dinner we had a small desire to go out, so we took Taylor’s and Courtney’s families to a bar in Bellavista and had a few drinks.
Christmas Eve definitely didn’t feel like Christmas Eve. I made it a point to listen to as much Christmas music as I could, but it didn’t exactly make the day feel any different. Later that day I went to my host family’s house to celebrate. Traditionally, Chileans celebrate on Christmas Eve with a late meal and with all the family in the home. Dinner is normally a turkey but a lot of families opt for other dishes. We had a lot of seafood and it was all delicious. The Christmas drink is “Cola de Mono” or Monkey Tail and it reminds me a lot of eggnog minus the egg and with a hint of coffee, and also with a strong hint of alcohol. It’s kind of tasty but it’s hard to drink a lot of it. After dinner the family stays up until midnight; at that time everyone opens presents. Gift-giving is simplified to a tradition of thoughtfulness and need instead of extravagance and competition like I have known. It was actually quite nice. We opened gifts around the Christmas tree decorated in blinking colored lights and decorations that didn’t include any snow themes. My family got me two tech shirts to run in and I got them a hanging decoration for their house; it was of the style that my host mom is very fond of. The real Christmas gift was the kitten that my host sister Andrea found across the street in a gift bag. The cat was dehydrated and fatigued when we found it; it was also absolutely covered with fleas. After some water, milk, and a ton of flea spray, the little cat slept for a long time. It was obviously a Christmas gift gone wrong, as so many pets-as-gifts are; and it also looked like it was too young to be taken away from its mother. I think the family might keep it; if not they have a friend who is looking to adopt a cat.
While we were cooking my host mom dropped everything and says, “Crap! Christmas Eve mass!” and my brother and sister just laughed and said how they weren’t going anyways and blah blah blah. But Mamá seemed really intent on going so she and I washed the vegetable peelings from our hands and walked across the street to where the church is. The doors to the church were closed, but after walking around to the front gate of the school where the church is housed, we saw that mass was outside. It was there that I found a huge crowd of people overflowing from the rows of school chairs that were set up. We got there a few minutes late and the four priests at the front were in mid-sentence; but a lot of people were still arriving and since mass was outside on a spectacularly comfortable summer night, little kids had no hesitation running around the sports court squealing in excitement. It was on that basketball court, with the sunset’s pink lemonade rays shining upon the snowless Andes peaks, that I found my Christmas Spirit. I realized that Christmas isn’t about a nation or a state or a city, or the experiences that I have in those places. No. It’s about love and Jesus and family and those things are more international than the swine flu. I suppose that Christmas can be about an individual place; in my case Gig Harbor; but I’d like to think that, in fact I know and I feel, that Christmas, the celebration of God’s Love and His son, has to be a holiday without borders; it has to be something that can be celebrated anywhere under any circumstances. Without that condition, where would we be as followers of this religion and belief?
Anyways, Christmas Day ended up being very chill; which I was OK with. I would have loved to have had a day full of plans and commitments, but the truth is that by not being able to experience Christmas in the way I wanted to, the most familiar and traditional of ways for me, it made me realize what aspects of Christmas I love and miss. That means, first and foremost, you. In the end, my friend from the exchange program, Kari, and I made Christmas lunch out of homemade Enchiladas (homemade tortillas and sauce) and homemade individual apple pies from Pink Lady apples. So tasty. We ate pie while watching Elf and it made for a great way to spend the day. That night I skyped with my family back home, which means the WHOLE family- aunts, uncles, cousins, Grandma, everyone! It was so great to see them and talk to them.
In the end, it was a very relaxed holiday. Everything was a new experience, and everything was enjoyable. Can’t complain.
Hoping your Christmas was full of love and celebration,
Derek
Saturday, December 26, 2009
Saturday, December 19, 2009
Pirate Journey- Peru
Dear Friend,
In the second installment of the Pirate Journey post, I’m going to tell you the story about Peru and how the country hated me. I was cursed from the beginning.
Crossing the border from Arica, Chile, to Tacna, Peru, was actually pretty easy. We got in a taxi with all of our backpacks barely fitting in the trunk and went through customs where our tasty apples and oranges were confiscated to our dismay. But, on arriving to Tacna, we found a bustling city, very different from Chile, which is interesting given the proximity, full of street vendors and markets. In the maze of curbside booths and shops we found one woman selling coconut cookies… just straight coconut cooked and molded together. THEY WERE SO TASTY. We went nuts on them, and I ended up buying three packages… for only 1 sol ($0.33). After sitting in the sun and enjoying some snacks, we got on our bus to Puno where Lake Titicaca is.
The majority of buses in Peru, at least the ones we rode on, were very different from those in Chile. In Chile the crew is normally in uniform and rather attentive. The air conditioning or the heat is normally always on and they usually play a few movies during the trip. In Peru, there were no movies, no heat on our frigid overnight bus, and it smelled horrible. Horrible! I guess I really can’t complain since we paid about $8.00 for a 10-hour bus ride which in Chile would probably go for $20.00. Despite not sleeping at all because of the cold and being so uncomfortable, we bucked up and booked a tour of Lake Titicaca on boat for two days. The plan was to go see Urso, the floating islands made from reeds that grow in the lake. Then we went to Amantani, and island where a small community of people live who take in foreigners for a night and cook for them and show them what it’s like to live on the island and in their culture. The following day the tour went to Taquile Island where there is a nice hike to a small village. There the tour stays for the large part of the day shopping and eating lunch and interacting with the locals.
That’s what was SUPPOSED to happen. None of that, for me at least, did happen. Either because of the altitude or because of some sort of virus, I was inopportunely sick for the entirety of the trip. It started when got on the boat. I felt tired and fatigued, but I passed it off on altitude and the horrible trip. But then, I just knew that I was sick. You just get that feeling sometimes. Brit tired to convince me it was mental. Last time she did that, I had tonsillitis. I slept for three hours on the boat, then when we got to Amantani in the early afternoon, I slept, and I didn’t really wake up until the next morning when I tried to eat breakfast. The nice woman who hosted us made me a special blend of tea using coca leaves, thyme, and some other herb. She also thought Brittany and I were a married couple. It was apparently really funny. I wouldn’t know since I was hidden away in a mass of blankets trying to decide if my fever was making me hot or cold. From what I heard, the trip was amazing, even with the thunder storm right over our heads and the waves on the lake the morning after the storm.
On the trip we met Brandon from Colorado who was going back to Cusco the same day we were so we all stayed together and made a balling group of travelers. I was really glad that we met him because Brit had someone to hang with while I slumbered. The bus terminal in Puno offered these ramshackle, filthy bedrooms that you could rent out, like a hotel. They smelled like socks and all-purpose cleaner. I almost died. But it gave me a place to lie down and take it easy while Brittany and Brandon explored Puno. Anyways, we three took a bus to Cusco that night. Our upgrade from semi-bed to full-bed chairs on the bus was a great decision and I slept a little on the ride. Unfortunately we got in to Cusco at 4 a.m., so we had to wait for a few hours before going to our hostel… which was ridiculous!
The climb alone to the top of the hill where our hostel was located was exhausting, especially given the altitude and our backpacks. It was kind of worth it, I suppose. The place is called Loki and they have several hostels in Peru and Bolivia. It is GIGANTIC. The place is a historical site… completely antique… and it has a labyrinth of rooms that are mainly dorm-style. I would say that maybe 60 people could stay there at one time, give or take. The only downside is that it was filled with Europeans and North Americans and it was completely catered to making us feel like we were in a familiar environment. It was hard to really feel like we were staying in Cusco the whole time. But it was fun- the hostel had a bar and a kitchen, so we didn’t even really have to leave if we didn’t want to. Also a downside.
From Cusco on our second day we launched in a taxi to the town of Ollantaytambo where we caught the PeruRail train to Machu Picchu. We were lucky to catch a community party in Ollantaytambo where they were singing and dancing and serving up some disgusting chicha drink, but we sipped on some nonetheless. It was fun, even though we were the only foreigners to venture into the party. The train takes about two hours to get there… even though it could be much faster. It was the slowest train I’ve ever experienced. I think the idea is to give people the opportunity to see the mountain scenery, which is spectacular, but since we were on the night train, we couldn’t see anything. In Machu Picchu, the town, a tributary cuts the community in half, almost dividing perfectly the segment of hostels and restaurants for tourists with the school and houses of the people who live there. Bridges span the river in the shadow of huge cliffs and mountains that jut rudely and abruptly from the base of the water. When we got there that night we bought our tickets to the park, then got a hostel which we talked down to $4 for the night, and then we ate pizza. We needed the fuel for the morning.
At 4:30 a.m. we woke up so that we could get in line for the bus around 5 a.m. We were told that if we got there at that time, we would be assured one of the 500 daily tickets that allow you to climb Wayna Picchu, the mountain that looks over the Lost City. We were sixth and seventh in line. A little bit early, maybe, but whatever, we got our tickets to Wayna Picchu. The bus winds up 8 kilometers of switch backs before reaching the park. On the way we passed a handful of badasses who hiked up to the park, and when we got to the entrance, there were about 50 people who had made the trek before sunrise and were already waiting. Getting to the park that early is also a bonus because you can catch views of it with no one in it. Literally, you can see nearly the entirety of the ruins and everything without a single person in sight. It’s amazing.
Machu Picchu is spectacular. It really is. It oozes spirituality, tranquility and intrigue. Hundreds of people enter the park each day, but everyone is pretty mellow as they quietly take in the amazing sights and as they trek around the ruins and trails. By the end of the day, after walking and climbing so much, we were exhausted.
Back in Cusco, we only had two more days, so we spent our full day picking up some souvenirs and also taking a tour of the campo on horseback. It was amazing.
http://www.facebook.com/album.php?aid=167517&id=629949459&l=dfb40811e7
http://www.facebook.com/album.php?aid=167519&id=629949459&l=9bed741632
In the second installment of the Pirate Journey post, I’m going to tell you the story about Peru and how the country hated me. I was cursed from the beginning.
Crossing the border from Arica, Chile, to Tacna, Peru, was actually pretty easy. We got in a taxi with all of our backpacks barely fitting in the trunk and went through customs where our tasty apples and oranges were confiscated to our dismay. But, on arriving to Tacna, we found a bustling city, very different from Chile, which is interesting given the proximity, full of street vendors and markets. In the maze of curbside booths and shops we found one woman selling coconut cookies… just straight coconut cooked and molded together. THEY WERE SO TASTY. We went nuts on them, and I ended up buying three packages… for only 1 sol ($0.33). After sitting in the sun and enjoying some snacks, we got on our bus to Puno where Lake Titicaca is.
The majority of buses in Peru, at least the ones we rode on, were very different from those in Chile. In Chile the crew is normally in uniform and rather attentive. The air conditioning or the heat is normally always on and they usually play a few movies during the trip. In Peru, there were no movies, no heat on our frigid overnight bus, and it smelled horrible. Horrible! I guess I really can’t complain since we paid about $8.00 for a 10-hour bus ride which in Chile would probably go for $20.00. Despite not sleeping at all because of the cold and being so uncomfortable, we bucked up and booked a tour of Lake Titicaca on boat for two days. The plan was to go see Urso, the floating islands made from reeds that grow in the lake. Then we went to Amantani, and island where a small community of people live who take in foreigners for a night and cook for them and show them what it’s like to live on the island and in their culture. The following day the tour went to Taquile Island where there is a nice hike to a small village. There the tour stays for the large part of the day shopping and eating lunch and interacting with the locals.
That’s what was SUPPOSED to happen. None of that, for me at least, did happen. Either because of the altitude or because of some sort of virus, I was inopportunely sick for the entirety of the trip. It started when got on the boat. I felt tired and fatigued, but I passed it off on altitude and the horrible trip. But then, I just knew that I was sick. You just get that feeling sometimes. Brit tired to convince me it was mental. Last time she did that, I had tonsillitis. I slept for three hours on the boat, then when we got to Amantani in the early afternoon, I slept, and I didn’t really wake up until the next morning when I tried to eat breakfast. The nice woman who hosted us made me a special blend of tea using coca leaves, thyme, and some other herb. She also thought Brittany and I were a married couple. It was apparently really funny. I wouldn’t know since I was hidden away in a mass of blankets trying to decide if my fever was making me hot or cold. From what I heard, the trip was amazing, even with the thunder storm right over our heads and the waves on the lake the morning after the storm.
On the trip we met Brandon from Colorado who was going back to Cusco the same day we were so we all stayed together and made a balling group of travelers. I was really glad that we met him because Brit had someone to hang with while I slumbered. The bus terminal in Puno offered these ramshackle, filthy bedrooms that you could rent out, like a hotel. They smelled like socks and all-purpose cleaner. I almost died. But it gave me a place to lie down and take it easy while Brittany and Brandon explored Puno. Anyways, we three took a bus to Cusco that night. Our upgrade from semi-bed to full-bed chairs on the bus was a great decision and I slept a little on the ride. Unfortunately we got in to Cusco at 4 a.m., so we had to wait for a few hours before going to our hostel… which was ridiculous!
The climb alone to the top of the hill where our hostel was located was exhausting, especially given the altitude and our backpacks. It was kind of worth it, I suppose. The place is called Loki and they have several hostels in Peru and Bolivia. It is GIGANTIC. The place is a historical site… completely antique… and it has a labyrinth of rooms that are mainly dorm-style. I would say that maybe 60 people could stay there at one time, give or take. The only downside is that it was filled with Europeans and North Americans and it was completely catered to making us feel like we were in a familiar environment. It was hard to really feel like we were staying in Cusco the whole time. But it was fun- the hostel had a bar and a kitchen, so we didn’t even really have to leave if we didn’t want to. Also a downside.
From Cusco on our second day we launched in a taxi to the town of Ollantaytambo where we caught the PeruRail train to Machu Picchu. We were lucky to catch a community party in Ollantaytambo where they were singing and dancing and serving up some disgusting chicha drink, but we sipped on some nonetheless. It was fun, even though we were the only foreigners to venture into the party. The train takes about two hours to get there… even though it could be much faster. It was the slowest train I’ve ever experienced. I think the idea is to give people the opportunity to see the mountain scenery, which is spectacular, but since we were on the night train, we couldn’t see anything. In Machu Picchu, the town, a tributary cuts the community in half, almost dividing perfectly the segment of hostels and restaurants for tourists with the school and houses of the people who live there. Bridges span the river in the shadow of huge cliffs and mountains that jut rudely and abruptly from the base of the water. When we got there that night we bought our tickets to the park, then got a hostel which we talked down to $4 for the night, and then we ate pizza. We needed the fuel for the morning.
At 4:30 a.m. we woke up so that we could get in line for the bus around 5 a.m. We were told that if we got there at that time, we would be assured one of the 500 daily tickets that allow you to climb Wayna Picchu, the mountain that looks over the Lost City. We were sixth and seventh in line. A little bit early, maybe, but whatever, we got our tickets to Wayna Picchu. The bus winds up 8 kilometers of switch backs before reaching the park. On the way we passed a handful of badasses who hiked up to the park, and when we got to the entrance, there were about 50 people who had made the trek before sunrise and were already waiting. Getting to the park that early is also a bonus because you can catch views of it with no one in it. Literally, you can see nearly the entirety of the ruins and everything without a single person in sight. It’s amazing.
Machu Picchu is spectacular. It really is. It oozes spirituality, tranquility and intrigue. Hundreds of people enter the park each day, but everyone is pretty mellow as they quietly take in the amazing sights and as they trek around the ruins and trails. By the end of the day, after walking and climbing so much, we were exhausted.
Back in Cusco, we only had two more days, so we spent our full day picking up some souvenirs and also taking a tour of the campo on horseback. It was amazing.
http://www.facebook.com/album.php?aid=167517&id=629949459&l=dfb40811e7
http://www.facebook.com/album.php?aid=167519&id=629949459&l=9bed741632
Sunday, December 13, 2009
Pirate Journey - Northern Chile
Today is election day. The city is empty because all the businesses are shut down, including my Starbucks. I was looking forward all morning to a cup of coffee and a cool corner in which I could write this blog post. No luck.
To substitute, I’m hiding in the only shady part of my patio with a cup of chocolate milk while the muggy 86F weather swarms around me.
Anyways, I’ve been back in Santiago for a couple of days after getting back from my Pirate Journey of the north of Chile and of Peru. Since it was a three-week thing and it was packed full of pirate action, I’m going to split up the posts, and for now, I’ll just tell you about what went down in Chile.
Amiga Brittany and I started our trip on a Saturday night with an overnight bus to Copiapó. That was one of our mistakes. Being the pirate journey, we had a list of cities we wanted to check out, but no real plans, just rough ideas and huge backpacks. The 12-hour bus ride to Copiapó was pretty mellow, although the crew left the heat blaring all night long and we were cooking in the cabin of the bus. Not the best. When we arrived the next morning we started walking to the Plaza de Las Armas, the center of town, to sit down and make our plan. It turns out that Copiapoopoo has nothing to do, at all. It has a few awesome national parks a few hours outside the city, but the $200-$300 tour price tag was a bit out of range. An hour later, we got on another bus heading west to Caldera, a small port/beach town, which ended up being a lot of fun.
In Caldera, we stayed at this ramshackle hostel which, despite its dirty outdoor kitchen, offered clean beds and hot showers. The first day we went to Bahía Inglesa, a white-sand beach a bit south of the city. Brit and I had nothing more than our music, a six-pack and a bottle of 20SPF sunscreen. After marveling in our brilliance at being able to get out of school so early and then be able to relax on a beach like this, we decided to go swimming…with all of our gear… out to these flat rocks where we ended up falling asleep while our beers cooled in the ocean while being tied up to a rock. We woke up a while later, burnt, but very content. We ended up watching the sunset that night while drinking wine straight out of boxes. It was classy. The next day we took a tour to Parque Nacional Pan de Azucar (National Park Sugar Bread) which is a super dry desert along the coast, which provides an amazing contrast between the makeup-colored mountains and the deep blues of the beach. The moist clouds coming in from the ocean don’t rain, but they provide enough moisture for diverse species of cactus that grow in the region, the reason for the park. Instead of going back to the ramshackle hostel, we camped on the far side of the bay on the beach with, not a tent, but a beach shelter… the girl who replaced Brittany’s tent after she lost it wasn’t the most intelligent. But it was really enjoyable to camp on the beach, even though our dinner and breakfast consisted of ham sandwiches (no cheese, just ham and bread) and cereal. CEREAL MONSTER!
From Caldera, we left to Antofogasta, juiced on the idea of going to the second-largest city in the country after seeing all the tourism posters in the Metro. The images of canyon hiking and lounging in clear rivers had us fooled. The city, at least the part we saw of it, wasn’t the greatest, it was actually put us off a little bit. But we did have a good time checking out the architecture and the port. That night we introduced ourselves (actually Brittany manned up and introduced us) to a tourist group of Australians and Europeans. We ended up going to a bar with them that night before heading out the next morning to San Pedro de Atacama. (On my trip back from Arica to Santiago, we passed again through Antofogasta and I have to admit that the southern part of the city is really nice and actually would have been pretty fun to visit.)
San Pedro de Atacama is arguably THE tourist destination of Chile. The village exists solely to serve tourists who want to see the beauties of the desert. It’s totally worth going to see it, but it was weird seeing sooooo many European and North American tourists in one place, especially after having spent five months in Santiago where it isn’t like that at all. After checking in to our camp site, which was little more than an open lot with some trees and few barbeques, we went sand boarding! We rented mountain bikes and snowboards for about $10 and took off into the desert- a hand-drawn map led us to a huge dune where we repeatedly hiked up and then attempted to ride down. Brit had a few really solid runs. I did not. Awkwardly, we ran into the Australian tourist group again there at the dunes, but it ended up being a good time. Since I’m not the greatest of boarders, I took a break and hiked up this huge monster dune hill mountain to a mesa that had an awesome view of the dune and the valley (Valley of Death). That afternoon we took the Moon Valley tour which included a lot of geological spots like dried up river channels, caves, mines and salt formations. The tour ended with a sunset at the Moon Valley, which looks incredibly unearthly. That was Thanksgiving Day. To celebrate, Brit and I went out to dinner at a pizzeria. I had a “family” sized Hawaiian pizza. It wasn’t actually that big, because we both practically finished the pizzas without problem. In the morning we woke up at 3:30 for our 4a.m. tour of the Tatio Geysers. It’s important to be up that early while it’s still cold out so that you can still catch the dramatic steam coming up from the geysers. The tour also includes stops at some thermals which weren’t as warm as we were hoping, as well as a small town which only has four permanent residents. There we bought llama kabobs which ended up proving to Brit and I that llama is THE BEST TASTING MEAT EVER. That afternoon, after coming back, we met up with Brittany’s best friend Jackie, who I now know and who I recognize because she goes to Humboldt State (represent), and a few of our other friends (shout out) from Santiago for the rest of the day. Unfortunately, after our choripan BBQ, we had to roll out to get to Arica the next morning. Also very awkward, we met the Australians again on the bus to Arica.
When we got there, we got separated, and we followed the two girls from the USA from the Australian group to a surf hostel where we checked in. The tour group left from there immediately to Peru after deciding not to stay in the “dirty” city. We actually liked Arica a lot. It has a bunch of a really cool buildings and awesome beaches. We spent the day on the beach relaxing and swimming which was an awesome break from the relentless heat of San Pedro. In the morning we took our bus to Parque Nacional Lauca, our baby, our prized possession in the North of Chile. To get there we had to get on a bus headed to La Paz, Bolivia, and then we asked to get dropped off at Lago Chungará (Lake Chungará). We read that there was a park ranger station there with camp sites. We got off the bus with an amazing view of the lake the volcano, but a desolate set of buildings and a few camp sites with rock walls blocking the cold winds had me nervous and uncertain. At over 14,500ft. elevation and with the Bolivian winter bringing cold winds to the area, we were stranded in the middle of nowhere with no way of getting to any sort of familiar civilization. We set up our tent and camp site, hiked around, ate dinner, attempted to take rum shots, but ended up going to bed super early since we both had headaches from the altitude. The sunset that night, however, was the most beautiful and spectacular sunset I have ever witnessed. In contrast to that beautiful image, we slept horribly. The cold didn’t help, but I think the altitude affected us both more than we thought it would. We got up early grumpy and tired, but a nice German couple gave us a ride in the back of their truck to our next stop in the park, the town of Parinacota, named for the snow-capped volcano that towers over the area. We set up camp at one of the lagoons and then took a hike through the shallow hills and around the streams and lagoons that cover the area. The town has a only a few permanent residents, the town normally fills for religious and community celebrations while most people actually live in more populated and connected towns. The people we did see (a total of four or five) worked at little shops that sold tea and snacks and artesanía. We bought coca tea which is supposed to help with altitude adjustment. Later that evening, after a few rounds of cards and a solid nap, we walked bored through the town until we saw a few people walking down the road towards us, obviously tourists. They ended up being a German and two French girls who were all really cool. They were looking for the hostel that their tour book said would be open, but it definitely was closed. Since we were camping, we didn’t have that problem, but we did see (and read) that the ranger station for the national park has beds for visitors that they usually let out for free. Unfortunately for our European friends, the station was closed. Never ones to give up, we found a small window to one of the bathrooms that we could open. One of the French girls who is a climber shimmied into the window and opened up the front door for us, it was amazing. We spent the night huddled up on bunk beds playing cards and eating pita bread. It was actually a really good time. We got up really early to avoid encountering any park rangers or townies walking by. To get back to Arica, which is where we launched to Peru, we had to go out to the highway, a 2-mile hike uphill with our huge backpacks and at altitude. It took a long time and was very tiring. We tried hitchhiking to Arica, to save money and to get there faster, but nobody picked us up for two hours. At that point, a bus heading back from La Paz rolled by and we took it to Arica, despite the $15 price tag.
Check out photos of the North of Chile in these albums:
http://www.facebook.com/album.php?aid=167404&id=629949459&l=5821d5841a
http://www.facebook.com/album.php?aid=167447&id=629949459&l=5f83c44c19
http://www.facebook.com/album.php?aid=167515&id=629949459&l=9f9db8c95a
To substitute, I’m hiding in the only shady part of my patio with a cup of chocolate milk while the muggy 86F weather swarms around me.
Anyways, I’ve been back in Santiago for a couple of days after getting back from my Pirate Journey of the north of Chile and of Peru. Since it was a three-week thing and it was packed full of pirate action, I’m going to split up the posts, and for now, I’ll just tell you about what went down in Chile.
Amiga Brittany and I started our trip on a Saturday night with an overnight bus to Copiapó. That was one of our mistakes. Being the pirate journey, we had a list of cities we wanted to check out, but no real plans, just rough ideas and huge backpacks. The 12-hour bus ride to Copiapó was pretty mellow, although the crew left the heat blaring all night long and we were cooking in the cabin of the bus. Not the best. When we arrived the next morning we started walking to the Plaza de Las Armas, the center of town, to sit down and make our plan. It turns out that Copiapoopoo has nothing to do, at all. It has a few awesome national parks a few hours outside the city, but the $200-$300 tour price tag was a bit out of range. An hour later, we got on another bus heading west to Caldera, a small port/beach town, which ended up being a lot of fun.
In Caldera, we stayed at this ramshackle hostel which, despite its dirty outdoor kitchen, offered clean beds and hot showers. The first day we went to Bahía Inglesa, a white-sand beach a bit south of the city. Brit and I had nothing more than our music, a six-pack and a bottle of 20SPF sunscreen. After marveling in our brilliance at being able to get out of school so early and then be able to relax on a beach like this, we decided to go swimming…with all of our gear… out to these flat rocks where we ended up falling asleep while our beers cooled in the ocean while being tied up to a rock. We woke up a while later, burnt, but very content. We ended up watching the sunset that night while drinking wine straight out of boxes. It was classy. The next day we took a tour to Parque Nacional Pan de Azucar (National Park Sugar Bread) which is a super dry desert along the coast, which provides an amazing contrast between the makeup-colored mountains and the deep blues of the beach. The moist clouds coming in from the ocean don’t rain, but they provide enough moisture for diverse species of cactus that grow in the region, the reason for the park. Instead of going back to the ramshackle hostel, we camped on the far side of the bay on the beach with, not a tent, but a beach shelter… the girl who replaced Brittany’s tent after she lost it wasn’t the most intelligent. But it was really enjoyable to camp on the beach, even though our dinner and breakfast consisted of ham sandwiches (no cheese, just ham and bread) and cereal. CEREAL MONSTER!
From Caldera, we left to Antofogasta, juiced on the idea of going to the second-largest city in the country after seeing all the tourism posters in the Metro. The images of canyon hiking and lounging in clear rivers had us fooled. The city, at least the part we saw of it, wasn’t the greatest, it was actually put us off a little bit. But we did have a good time checking out the architecture and the port. That night we introduced ourselves (actually Brittany manned up and introduced us) to a tourist group of Australians and Europeans. We ended up going to a bar with them that night before heading out the next morning to San Pedro de Atacama. (On my trip back from Arica to Santiago, we passed again through Antofogasta and I have to admit that the southern part of the city is really nice and actually would have been pretty fun to visit.)
San Pedro de Atacama is arguably THE tourist destination of Chile. The village exists solely to serve tourists who want to see the beauties of the desert. It’s totally worth going to see it, but it was weird seeing sooooo many European and North American tourists in one place, especially after having spent five months in Santiago where it isn’t like that at all. After checking in to our camp site, which was little more than an open lot with some trees and few barbeques, we went sand boarding! We rented mountain bikes and snowboards for about $10 and took off into the desert- a hand-drawn map led us to a huge dune where we repeatedly hiked up and then attempted to ride down. Brit had a few really solid runs. I did not. Awkwardly, we ran into the Australian tourist group again there at the dunes, but it ended up being a good time. Since I’m not the greatest of boarders, I took a break and hiked up this huge monster dune hill mountain to a mesa that had an awesome view of the dune and the valley (Valley of Death). That afternoon we took the Moon Valley tour which included a lot of geological spots like dried up river channels, caves, mines and salt formations. The tour ended with a sunset at the Moon Valley, which looks incredibly unearthly. That was Thanksgiving Day. To celebrate, Brit and I went out to dinner at a pizzeria. I had a “family” sized Hawaiian pizza. It wasn’t actually that big, because we both practically finished the pizzas without problem. In the morning we woke up at 3:30 for our 4a.m. tour of the Tatio Geysers. It’s important to be up that early while it’s still cold out so that you can still catch the dramatic steam coming up from the geysers. The tour also includes stops at some thermals which weren’t as warm as we were hoping, as well as a small town which only has four permanent residents. There we bought llama kabobs which ended up proving to Brit and I that llama is THE BEST TASTING MEAT EVER. That afternoon, after coming back, we met up with Brittany’s best friend Jackie, who I now know and who I recognize because she goes to Humboldt State (represent), and a few of our other friends (shout out) from Santiago for the rest of the day. Unfortunately, after our choripan BBQ, we had to roll out to get to Arica the next morning. Also very awkward, we met the Australians again on the bus to Arica.
When we got there, we got separated, and we followed the two girls from the USA from the Australian group to a surf hostel where we checked in. The tour group left from there immediately to Peru after deciding not to stay in the “dirty” city. We actually liked Arica a lot. It has a bunch of a really cool buildings and awesome beaches. We spent the day on the beach relaxing and swimming which was an awesome break from the relentless heat of San Pedro. In the morning we took our bus to Parque Nacional Lauca, our baby, our prized possession in the North of Chile. To get there we had to get on a bus headed to La Paz, Bolivia, and then we asked to get dropped off at Lago Chungará (Lake Chungará). We read that there was a park ranger station there with camp sites. We got off the bus with an amazing view of the lake the volcano, but a desolate set of buildings and a few camp sites with rock walls blocking the cold winds had me nervous and uncertain. At over 14,500ft. elevation and with the Bolivian winter bringing cold winds to the area, we were stranded in the middle of nowhere with no way of getting to any sort of familiar civilization. We set up our tent and camp site, hiked around, ate dinner, attempted to take rum shots, but ended up going to bed super early since we both had headaches from the altitude. The sunset that night, however, was the most beautiful and spectacular sunset I have ever witnessed. In contrast to that beautiful image, we slept horribly. The cold didn’t help, but I think the altitude affected us both more than we thought it would. We got up early grumpy and tired, but a nice German couple gave us a ride in the back of their truck to our next stop in the park, the town of Parinacota, named for the snow-capped volcano that towers over the area. We set up camp at one of the lagoons and then took a hike through the shallow hills and around the streams and lagoons that cover the area. The town has a only a few permanent residents, the town normally fills for religious and community celebrations while most people actually live in more populated and connected towns. The people we did see (a total of four or five) worked at little shops that sold tea and snacks and artesanía. We bought coca tea which is supposed to help with altitude adjustment. Later that evening, after a few rounds of cards and a solid nap, we walked bored through the town until we saw a few people walking down the road towards us, obviously tourists. They ended up being a German and two French girls who were all really cool. They were looking for the hostel that their tour book said would be open, but it definitely was closed. Since we were camping, we didn’t have that problem, but we did see (and read) that the ranger station for the national park has beds for visitors that they usually let out for free. Unfortunately for our European friends, the station was closed. Never ones to give up, we found a small window to one of the bathrooms that we could open. One of the French girls who is a climber shimmied into the window and opened up the front door for us, it was amazing. We spent the night huddled up on bunk beds playing cards and eating pita bread. It was actually a really good time. We got up really early to avoid encountering any park rangers or townies walking by. To get back to Arica, which is where we launched to Peru, we had to go out to the highway, a 2-mile hike uphill with our huge backpacks and at altitude. It took a long time and was very tiring. We tried hitchhiking to Arica, to save money and to get there faster, but nobody picked us up for two hours. At that point, a bus heading back from La Paz rolled by and we took it to Arica, despite the $15 price tag.
Check out photos of the North of Chile in these albums:
http://www.facebook.com/album.php?aid=167404&id=629949459&l=5821d5841a
http://www.facebook.com/album.php?aid=167447&id=629949459&l=5f83c44c19
http://www.facebook.com/album.php?aid=167515&id=629949459&l=9f9db8c95a
Subscribe to:
Comments (Atom)