Atacama: Crystal Valley

I didn't wake up sick today, unless you count "opening my eyes and finding there's a cat on my face" to mean 'sick'. He immediately jumped off and started trying to eat my glasses. Go figure. I scarfed down the remainder of last night's dinner and hopped in the van, ready to be taken to the third and final place on our itinerary.

So far we've wandered through desolate landscapes of steam and salt, meaning I was totally unprepared for today's hike. The valley is a riot of color, deep red terrain surrounding bright green mountains. From far away they look verdant and teaming with life. But this place is just as desolate as the rest of Atacama. In our hike the only signs of life were a single bird, the occasional patch of brush, and a handful of llama carcasses. Rather the green is oxidized copper. I put a few rocks in my backpack. They'll make good souvenirs.
 

Our guide dropped us off so we could walk along the highway. By now I've gotten a lot better at panorama shots, so capturing the landscape isn't that hard.

Afterwards he took us to a local farming town. The exploration was fun but we were forbidden from taking pictures . Not every part of Atacama is used to tourists. What struck me most about the place wasn't the places or the people. In one of the trees I could hear chirping birds. It was the first time since Michigan.

And with that our vacation is effectively over. We stay in Atacama a few more hours while waiting for our plane ride out. We'd expected to stay a bit longer so bought our tickets for late. No big deal.

All in all, I'm glad we did this. Coordinating the logistics was a big pain, but the rewards were amazing. The three valleys were just incredible, and the geysers weren't bad either. Between transportation, lodging, and touring fees we spent maybe 250 dollars in total. Worth it.

Two more weeks then I'm back in the US. But first comes five days in Patagonia. I'm travelling to the bottom of the world. I can't wait.

Atacama: The Geysers

So it's one thing to excitedly talk about going to the geysers at 4 AM. It's quite another thing to do it on one hour of sleep due to insomnia and when it takes two hours of bumpy roads to get there. And I don't have any leg room in the van or a space to put my head. Needless to say I spent those two hours in a foul mood. It mixed with the lack of sleep and roughness of the road to make me horribly sick for the last hour. Not off to a good start.

By eight or so I start feeling a little better and can beginning getting pictures of things. Since we are going to "the geysers" these things are pretty obs geysers. Here's a few pics.

Oh hey, looks like an abandoned project got in there. The government tried to build a geothermal plant here, but decided it wasn't worth the cost.

The small vents are pretty fun, though the egg smell isn't helping my naseau. In reverse-homeopathic fashion I decide that if a little egg smell hurts me, a big egg smell must cure me. That means bigger geysers.

We have to stay on special paths here. The ground is fragile and can easily cave underneath. That's a surefire way to get yourself seriously hurt. At least five people have died in these vents. One is named "The French Geyser" after the nationality of the first man who burned to death here. Our guide finds this unusually amusing.



The last stop in the geysers is a hot spring. Everybody but me bathes here. I'm not too keen on the idea (and I don't have any other clothes), so I head off to check out the landscape.



As we head back our guide decides to make a stop at a local village. It's a tourist town in every sense of the word; only six or seven people live here. The rest are transients.

We head in for the sole purpose of getting shish-kabobs. They're five dollars apiece, way higher than we'd pay in any sort of sane situation. On the other hand, they're the only place in San Pedro you can eat llama.

Llama is surprisingly tender.

We land back in San Pedro. I'm still a little queasy, so I pass on a hike. Instead I try to find a restaurant serving local cuisine. This takes me far out of the hostel and across the town. I was wrong about it being dead all of the time, because I was living on the very outskits. The center is bustling with life, and at times I can see more people than in a UChicago sosc class. A real sosc, not Mind.

Incidentally, the first thing I've gotta do when I get back in Chicago is... settle in to my new apartment. But the second thing is... probably helping Orin renovate stuff. Third thing is... okay, *somewhere* down the line I have to find a local market that sells entrails. Cow tongues are amazing.

I end the day watching the stars. We can make out the band of the Milky Way and the Southern Cross. Tomorrow is our last day in the desert, and probably the day I'm most excited about. Hopefully I won't have the same issues I did today. Guess I'll find out tomorrow.

Atacama: Valley of the Moon

We didn't get any sense of the desert on our arrival. We blitzed to the airport, shot into Calama, grabbed the first bus to San Pedro, landed right next to our hostel, and went to bed. So when I woke the next morning I had no expectations about what I would see. I had also done a very good job Not Learning Anything about the desert. What can I say? I hate spoilers.

Wow.

No smog. No humidity either. I think that helps with the views, letting me see further with better detail. I'm cycling these ideas as a buffer against the site. Distracting myself keeps me from being blown away.

We explore the town a little, trying to find food and supplies. 2000 people live in San Pedro. We're lucky to see a single person per block. The whole experience is a little eerie, walking through a thriving ghost town.



Eventually we pick up some food for the trail. The itinerary today is Valley de la Luna. The guides tell that we won't have time for anything else. I have no idea why it's called "Valley of the Moon." Spoilers, remember?

At three we get in the van and head into the outskirts of San Pedro. Houses and ranches soon give way into barren wasteland, then alien landscapes.

I'm not sure whether it's a testament to the strangeness of the place or my own inexperience that I've never seen anything like it before. There is no life anywhere. Eventually we stop and are allowed to get out.

We continue to a place called the Three Mary's. A local researcher thought the standing stones looked like the Virgin Mary. Here the guide explains the reasons behind both the name and the barrenness. The rocks in the valley are fifty percent salt. After heavy rains the entire place is a dull white. The first person to document it said it looked like the moon, hence the name. Gonna have to admit I find it a little poetic. This also explains why the place is so dead. The earth itself is hostile to life. Bits of salt are everywhere. In the far off mountains, on the ground beneath us,

 

We find an old salt-miner's house, back when the area was regularly mined. Those bricks are all salt. We find exposed areas and chip off pieces as souvenirs. Then we head to the salt mines, where the miners blasted the rocks with dynamite to get the minerals within.

After that we head out. Our guide decides that we've had it too easy so far and need a good hike under our belts. He stops at one ridge and points it out to us.



Then he tells us its way too dangerous and we're going on a much smaller one.



I'm not complaining.

This is the highest we've been so far. What we didn't notice down in the valley was the ever-present wind. It's harsh and dry, a white wind that seems to strip the dirt away. It also chills me to the bone. I zip up my sweater. Amazing how much the temperature changes with just a little height.

We climb back down. Our guide points out some geological strata that tell the history of the desert. White stones are heavy rains, black stones are volcanic activity. And then we drive out of the Valley of the Moon. But our tour isn't over yet. The final part, the hardest hike, is about to begin.



Welcome to the Valley of the Dead.

We are high above the desert floor. The white wind is now a constant presence whistling in my ears. There are seven of us, four other tourists, and the guide. Even so, I feel lonelier than I ever have in Santiago. Even the first day seems warm and comfortable against this. Even as I chat with Tito and Brian I can feel the isolation building up. But the loneliness is beautiful in a way. It's clean and bright. The loneliness of a sun over a snow-covered peak. I don't know how to describe it. Maybe I let myself be overly sensitive to the place, taking a placebo and calling it the real thing. I push the thoughts out of my mind as I stop with the rest and wait for sunset.

Then I see something and have to laugh.

Life.

In both valleys the only signs of life were other tourists. Not single bird going overhead, not a single fly buzzing around our heads, not a single plant tucked into the rocks. The place is too deadly for that. And yet here, at the top of the dead valley, a shrub latched onto its tiny life. I look around. More of them, scattered across the ridge in tiny clumps. I point them out of the other people. They aren't as impressed as me.

Our tour guide pulls out glasses and pours each of us a pisco sour. We sip them as we watch the sun fall.



Getting back is slightly harder. Instead of taking the rocky valley back, we land on the dunes and slide down the sand. It's side fine our feet sink right in. We are walking down a crazy slope, so steep we'd need climbing gear if it were solid. I'd like to call it impressive or amazing or eerie, but it sums up to "kinda fun." Can't be amazed by everything.



With that we head home. We have to be in bed early if we want to catch the geysers. It's been one day and already the desert has amazed and exhausted me. I'll write this and head to bed. I'm tired as hell. Sleep can't come soon enough.

Until tomorrow.

Atacama!

I've been preparing for this trip for like three weeks now. Hunting down cheap tickets, working out logistics, finding hostels, etc. I left work an hour early on Friday to meet with everyone else and head straight to the airport. Flying wasn't any less exciting this time around, and the airline snacks were much better. LAN airlines serves dulce de leche cookies. Keep that in mind if you need to travel around South America.

I've been busy looking over the photos and stitching together panorama shots, not to mention catching up with the day's work I missed.* I'll be making one post a day for the next three days, one for each I spent in Atacama. There's a lot of stuff to talk about. It was definitely the best weekend here so far, and will probably stay that way until Patagonia.

*Have I once talked about the details of my job? I really need to get on that.