Arica, Chile

January 18, 2008


We arrived in Chile early in the morning…well, we just arrived in Chile….Peru is only 11 miles away! Because Chile is only some 120 miles, at the widest point, and almost 3,000 miles long we will be sailing in Chilean waters for a while….10-12 days…going in and out of the fiords and exotic ports of this interesting county with its a huge variety of climates, scenery, and landscapes.

The Atacama Desert, the driest place on earth, is what brought us to Arica. And our visit to this mountainous desert is one that I will never forget.

Striking out from the ship we drove along the beautiful beaches of Arica where we saw a large tent city. It seems that many Chileans come to Arica to pitch their tents in summer where they stay for several weeks. The community provides fresh water and trash pick-up and the Pacific Ocean, although just shy of the cold Humboldt current, provides stimulating swimming and surfing. Seeing these colorful tents, I couldn’t help but be reminded of the desert festival in Nevada…what is it called “Tall Man Burning?” or “Burning Man Festival?”…something like that…no matter…when I think of northern Chile I will always remember these colorful tents and the festival atmosphere they created.

Soon we were on our way up and into the desert. Tall sandy mountains quickly surrounded us on both sides. Along the way we spotted a few geoglyphs or lines in the sand. How these lines were produced I am not exactly sure. Were they carved into the sand? Or were they made from stacking stones? I must investigate more! Though much smaller in size these geoplyphs are exactly like what I would have seen had my tour in Peru of the famed Nasca lines not been cancelled. No one is really sure what the exact purpose of these lines were. Some think they are extraterrestrial in nature while others believe that they were mere “signposts” pointing to the ocean. Regardless of their use, it is amazing to realize that these lines...we spotted stylized llamas, eagles, human forms and monkeys… date back to the 12th century.

We were surprised to be traveling in a very rich and fertile valley. After all, we were in a desert…a very dry desert (Arica once went 14 years without a drop of rain!) But we soon learned that there was indeed water…the Taipicahue Stream supplied from the melting snows of the Andes Mountains where the highest peak soars to over 19,000 feet. Hard-working villagers toiled in their beautiful fields producing all manner of crops in the most pristine plots. The contrast of these carefully laid-out and manicured green crops against the dry and sandy surrounding mountains provided a visual memory that I will never forget.

As our bus began a long and tedious trail switching back and forth on a somewhat maintained narrow highway it wasn’t long until we were looking down into the valley we had just left. As we climbed higher and higher, dodging one pot hole after another and then one large truck after another, each loaded down with goods and supplies coming from neighboring Bolivia, we marveled at the skill of our driver as we gasped peering over the steep slopes of the sandy and rocking desert mountains. This was certainly not a trip for the faint of heart.

We stopped in the tiny village of Pochanchile to see the quaint church complete with a most colorful cemetery. Of course, the local craftspeople were there in full force to sell their goods…mostly cliché brightly colored tourist “junk”…junk that the tourist bought in bulk. What do these people do with all that junk when they get home?

We continued upward and upward, back and forth, switchback after switchback. We were delayed only once by an overturned flat bed truck that had lost its entire load of freshly milled lumber which was inconveniently scattered all over road. We gladly learned later that the driver survived this terrible crash! How, I will never know as the cab of his shiny bright red Volvo truck looked like a piece of wadded up paper. For five and one half hours we enjoyed this breathtaking scenery, complete with the Parinacota bofedal – wet spongy ground filled with lush grasses. We spotted llamas and vicunas and a small animal that I can’t spell or pronounce that looked like a cross between a squirrel and a rabbit. We eventually reached a large plateau that reminded me of being in big sky Montana with its vast flat lands and high snow-capped mountains in the far distance. We crossed the Lauca River where we soon encountered the Cotacotani lagoons--a myriad of inter-connected emerald green lagoons that have resulted from the effect of water flow that has been blocked by volcanic eruptions. Here was here that we reached Lake Chungara, the highest lake in the world at some 14,700 feet….and it was here that yours truly thought he was not going to make it!

The high altitude, the winding roads and the fact that I had not eaten for six hours were NOT a good combination for me. I stepped off the bus and like several of my fellow passengers, came very close to passing out cold. One poor man fell almost immediately….several others were rescued with oxygen tanks that the helpful guides provided. I, although nauseated and weak with a pounding head ache, slowly made my way to a small kiosk where, thank goodness, I was able to buy two small chocolate-covered wafers. Luckily I had brought along a warm sweater, scarf and gloves. I think my problems stemmed primarily from low sugar. I should have known better and brought something along with me to eat. However, we had been promised a box lunch that hadn’t shown up….we were told that Chilean officials would not let food on shore from the ship (I learned later that “packaged” foods would have been acceptable) and we had had to endure scenic but winding roads. Luckily, after only fifteen minutes we left making our way back down the beautiful mountains, stopping in about an hour for a lunch of chicken and vegetables (of which I ate very little…I didn’t think I could stomach it). I was able to get a cold and very sweet Sprite…and so by the time I got back to sea level and after a fitful sleep all bundled up in my warm clothes; I made it back to the ship and enjoyed a very comfortable and restful evening, although I avoided dinner.

Phew! What a beautiful place, this Atacama Desert…a place filled with mixed memories…a majestic place never to be forgotten.