Wanderings and Wonderings: Into the Desert, Part IV

For our last day together in San Pedro, Lukas, Megan and I decided to head out into the desert one last time for a look at the ruins of Pukara de Quitor, some sort of battle encampments that were used for many reasons but perhaps most famously in a battle against Pedro de Valdivia in the 1500s (these facts are from memory, so don't quote me!). Megan and I followed Lukas into the searing heat, and halfway there I thought we might be a little crazy because we didn't know exactly where we were going and only had a half-baked map with us. But Lukas, by the graces of god, managed to lead us to the exact spot, earning him the nickname of Moses for the day, which was only funnier because he had fashioned a shirt into a sort of turban to protect himself from the sun.

Lukas taking in the sights of Pukara de Quitor.

We hauled ourselves through the ruins to the top of the hill, noting on the way what a good vantage point we were at to spot invaders to the valley. At the top we rested, enjoying the vistas surrounding us.

A view of the valley and the ever-present volcano, which is apparently the guardian of San Pedro.

What a mess we are in this photo!

I closed my eyes! Pucha!

I am taking a peek!

Our very own Moses.

More ruins.

Lukas gazing off into the valley.

After some soothing ice cream at our favorite ice cream parlor in San Pedro--the place where I had the best ice cream of my life, by the way, a pear-flavored concoction which I ate three days in a row--we headed back for our last supper as a threesome. Megan and Luke had gotten a smattering of culinary offerings from a departing couple at the hostel, and we did our best to throw together a nutritious and delicious meal. We only half succeeded, but the beer and wine we drank that night more than made up for any lackings.

Luke with our basket of goodness.

Trying to roast hot dogs on the burner.

Lukas with the left overs, beer and pan, for his bus ride.

After a giggle-filled night with lots of horsing around, Lukas not being able to hold onto a beer to save his soul, and partying with our new pal Se Busca in the form of a head shot on a political poster (which I could never properly explain to you), Megan and I sadly bid Lukas adieu. We passed the following day looking for a new hostel, since our second hostel in San Pedro only had room for us for two nights. We mostly lolled about in the sun all day, reading. Later that night, we had dinner (vegetable filled crepes) and many drinks with our new friend Pancho, who we met at our second hostel. He took us to a bar and we sat around a roaring fire, drinking pisco sours, tequila sunrises, and rum and cokes. The roof was open, so theoretically we could see the stars, but the fire was so bright we didn't do much star-gazing.

I really enjoyed traveling with Lukas ans Megan. They are both really chill, laidback people, which initially I was mildly concerned about because I am a planner, whereas they are more go-with-the-flow. I was afraid I would overwhelm them with all my plans. And we all know I love to be bossy and have all the power. But we surprisingly got along famously, and I would travel again with either of them in a heartbeat. Also, we cooked a lot, which saved us having to eat out too much. Although most days for lunch we ate at these wonderful food stalls on the edge of town geared more toward the local population. They were cheap and filling, and we left satisfied every time.

Also, I forgot to mention in one of my earlier posts that the three of us passed an hour or so checking out this museum in San Pedro that had all this cool archeological stuff. San Pedro is apparently some sort of archeological mecca because the dry conditions of the desert keep things well preserved. We saw all sorts of tools, some jewlery, lots of drug paraphernalia, basketry, pottery, and even some sandals! It was pretty neat.

Our last hostel was heavily populated with cats. I usually don't touch stray animals, but they were so cute I couldn't help myself! Here's Megan cuddling with one of them.

Friday brought Megan and I the only devastating catastrophe of our two weeks on the road together. We had a 8:51 bus to Calama, where we had reservations to visit Chuquicamata, the world's largest open pit copper mine, which boasts such sights as trucks the size of houses. It is also the mine Che Guevara famously visited on his Motorcycle Diaries trek, where his encounter with a communist miner is credited as being the catalyst for the birth of his political thought. Megan and I were both really pumped about our visit to the mine. So we were waiting at the bus stop in the desert, bright and early, the very same bus stop where we had been dropped off nearly a week prior, and the bus never came. After waiting for about half an hour, we realized something was wrong and headed to the Tur Bus office. Apparently, due to some miscommunications and a lack of pertinent information, it became clear that Tur Bus picks its passengers up at a different bus stop. Of course, buses don't run frequently to and from San Pedro because it is a small town, and the soonest bus we were able to catch didn't leave San Pedro until noon. The hour and a half bus ride put us in Calama at 1:30, the exact time we were supposed to be meeting our tour at the gate of the mine, which is about 15 minutes outside the city. Megan and I almost killed ourselves trying to get to that damn mine. We made it to the gates 20 minutes too late; even though the tour operator had told us they wouldn't hold the tour for us, we both wanted to try. The guy at the gate cheerfully informed us we could join tomorrow's tour, but of course we couldn't because we had tickets for an overnight bus that night to Arica. Our taxi driver, though, was a hoot, and he tried to make up for our disappointment by giving us all sorts of touristy information about Calama. I apreciated the effort, but we were both devastated. However, we both decided that we are going back during summer vacay, so all is not lost.

So, we tried to console ourselves with sight-seeing in Calama, which from what I could tell has very little to offer outside the draw of Chuqui. We sort of wandered around aimlessly, and then ended up back at the bus station, where we spent the evening reading. Maybe it was my disappointment at not getting to see the mine, but I didn't much care for Calama.

The church in Calama's Plaza de Armas, where the steeple and the accents around the windows are all copper.