We spent an hour seating in the bus while the tourists ahead of us had their baggage scanned and checked, reinforcing the fact that we were no longer in the Andean countries. Of course the luggage scanning was more procedural than actually necessary, clothes were poked rather than taken out.
Arriving in San Pedro de Atacama was like crossing over into a little desert hide away. It felt so foreign from where we had just came from. For one, the people looked more european. The lunch deals included things like pasta and wine and not the usual rice and potatoe as we were used to. That being said, coming from Bolivia into Chile the first thing that one notices is that while there is a better variety of things to eat and drink, they are not cheap. In hindesight, we should have visited Bolivia last, that way we could have been amazed at the prices and stocked up on hats, jumpers, socks and paintings.
We encountered many firsts in Chile. Our travels in the northern part of South America have all been during the low season. However, we were now in a new country, facing peak of the season prices. Our initial plan involved getting to San Pedro and then catching a bus all the way down to Valparaiso. However this plan was quickly thwarted by the rather busy and exesperated clerks at all the bus companies. There was no room on ANY bus on the 21st through till the 26th. We were at a loss. Spending 5 days in San Pedro did not appeal to me or to Dorothee in the slightest. We needed to get out. Upon scouring the city and gathering as much information as we could, we found out that the nearest city of Calama had more busses and a bigger population to cater towards, it was our best bet.
Calama. It doesnt deserve a section titled as such. Simply a large, grimmy and dusty city in the middle of nowhere mainly populated by unshaven older men. Calama is a city build aorund the mining industry surrounding the region. With all of our gear, tired and wanting a break, we walked blocks upon blocks looking for bus companies. Several hours of walking later and approaching atleast 7 different companies, we were always greated with the exact same message, ¨Everything is booked through until the 26th¨. It was getting dark and we had no plan C. We decided that spending a night in Calama was not a good idea. A simple strawl through the main pedestrian street saw us diving out of the way of fully armoured riot police officers followed by police and ambulance vehicles. We happened to be in Calama on the day that their soccer team beat their rival, so the city exploded in noise and colour. Riot police and what looked like battleships patrolled the streets. Getting out was our first priority and crazily enough, going north out of Calama proved just as difficult! We bought the first bus company that had seats going to Arica, 8 hours north of our current position. Unfortunately we had to part ways with Dorothee as her plans were a little different.
Arriving in San Pedro de Atacama was like crossing over into a little desert hide away. It felt so foreign from where we had just came from. For one, the people looked more european. The lunch deals included things like pasta and wine and not the usual rice and potatoe as we were used to. That being said, coming from Bolivia into Chile the first thing that one notices is that while there is a better variety of things to eat and drink, they are not cheap. In hindesight, we should have visited Bolivia last, that way we could have been amazed at the prices and stocked up on hats, jumpers, socks and paintings.
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| Arica |
We encountered many firsts in Chile. Our travels in the northern part of South America have all been during the low season. However, we were now in a new country, facing peak of the season prices. Our initial plan involved getting to San Pedro and then catching a bus all the way down to Valparaiso. However this plan was quickly thwarted by the rather busy and exesperated clerks at all the bus companies. There was no room on ANY bus on the 21st through till the 26th. We were at a loss. Spending 5 days in San Pedro did not appeal to me or to Dorothee in the slightest. We needed to get out. Upon scouring the city and gathering as much information as we could, we found out that the nearest city of Calama had more busses and a bigger population to cater towards, it was our best bet.
Calama. It doesnt deserve a section titled as such. Simply a large, grimmy and dusty city in the middle of nowhere mainly populated by unshaven older men. Calama is a city build aorund the mining industry surrounding the region. With all of our gear, tired and wanting a break, we walked blocks upon blocks looking for bus companies. Several hours of walking later and approaching atleast 7 different companies, we were always greated with the exact same message, ¨Everything is booked through until the 26th¨. It was getting dark and we had no plan C. We decided that spending a night in Calama was not a good idea. A simple strawl through the main pedestrian street saw us diving out of the way of fully armoured riot police officers followed by police and ambulance vehicles. We happened to be in Calama on the day that their soccer team beat their rival, so the city exploded in noise and colour. Riot police and what looked like battleships patrolled the streets. Getting out was our first priority and crazily enough, going north out of Calama proved just as difficult! We bought the first bus company that had seats going to Arica, 8 hours north of our current position. Unfortunately we had to part ways with Dorothee as her plans were a little different.
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