San Pedro de Atacama
As I mentioned in the previous post, I took a bus ride from Salta across the great Puna or Altiplano (high plains), Andes and Atacama Desert regions of Argentina and Chile to San Pedro de Atacama and it was a remarkable feast on landscapes. I was actually grateful for the one hour delay when we blew out an inner rear tire (thankfully not a front tire and not while dropping down from one of the passes through the Andes) just after a salt flat. It allowed me to stretch my legs, breathe in some fresh air and take some photos. A baby llama came up close to me which was a bit freaky, but mama llama (hehehe) stayed cool through the baby´s poses. We did not clear Chilean customs until it was already dark and then three of us chose to walk the last half kilometer into town rather than wait for the bus.
I didn´t see much of town last night, but I did get hooked up with my tours for the three days plus overland into Bolivia and I went out for a great meal in an old indoor-outdoor adobe restaurant. A woman sat at the table next to mine and after realizing she was by herself I asked her to join me. And she did because people down here are just that way. Her name is Asuncion (as in the capital of Paraguay) from Santiago and it was nice to learn some things about Chile. She confirmed that there is a good portion of Chile that likes Pinochet and she said Argentineans love him… scary!!!
I woke up this morning early (finally back into a timezone that makes sense – sun coming up around 7 AM rather than 8 AM in Argentina) and got out into the empty, dusty streets of this town for photos. What an amazing little town I found. Dirt streets, adobe buildings in natural brown or whitewash and amazing bright colors for doors, shutters and trim. Much of the center of town has been taken over by touristy stuff, but it is pretty lowkey and the charm has not been lost. They have an adobe church from the 1600s in the small, but pretty plaza which I just went into. It has a roof made from cactus. Alright, I have read this before and I truly never understood what a “roof made from cactus” could possibly mean… the image in your mind is probably the same as mine. Well, as I learned in Salta area, the giant cacti in this part of the world towering over eight meters high which die standing can be cut like trees once they have dried. They make beautiful and strong lumber. Sure enough, the church´s roof is made from that wood. The church is indian and the primitive altar said it all. Very folklorish. Very simple. Very nice.
Today´s trip was up in the mountains to a thermal bath area. It is in a canyon of reddish rock where a small river of hottish water runs. There are seven pools in which you can relax in. They are all different, but the best of them have giant flintstone-like rocks at the top end or small waterfalls that you can stand under. The water cascades down from each pool into the next one until the last where the water then runs further down the canyon. I was with a group of eight others from Brazil and Chile. After going in the first pool, I realized that more people would surely arrive soon so I got out and took photos of the area including a side canyon before the hordes arrived. No horde actually arrived because it is off-season, but more people did show up and it was good that I postponed relaxation which I got plenty of before we left.
San Pedro de Atacama has about 2500 residents. I saw a cemetery on our way back into town and I assumed it would be a small one to match the size of the town. I walked over to it in the afternoon and I immediately knew I had found something quite special. And I saw that it was much larger than I could possibly have imagined. I walked into it and what caught my attention beyond the size was all of the simple wooden crosses painted white, bright blue, black and green as well as the adobe mausoleums which is something I have never seen before. The plots were also decorated with flowers – fake and faded real – probably from Easter. Now I like cemeteries and I have entered them in almost every place I have visited. They tell you a lot about the culture. I walked about thirty meters into the walled cemetery which was empty of any other people, live ones at least. I suddenly noticed an absolute quietness, something I have only heard a couple of times in my life. And I do mean “heard” because absolute quiet is deafening. I immediately looked up and around and sure enough there were no sounds from the town, no birds chirping and no wind blowing. It lasted about a minute during which time I had one of the strangest feelings ever and the hairs went up. I looked around a bit weirded out and, of course, saw nothing. The wind then blew a little and an old shutter or something knocked and I then felt like I was in an old spaghetti western expecting Clint to pop out and shoot me or something like that. Then the birds started to chirp and sounds from the town came back such as children, cars and construction. Yikes! I was ready to bolt, but the photo opportunities with the high desert high noon sun beating down into this amazing cemetery were too good and I chose to ignore images of ghosts and shootouts. Nothing else strange happened which I was grateful for, but I do have to wonder if something is going on in that place. And I am hardly one to normally get caught up in such matters!
Tags: Chile, south america, Travel
vagabondrick
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