The town is somewhat overrun by tourists, and I had read in a number of guidebooks that this tends to dull its overall appeal. However, I didn't think so at all - muchos gringos, afterall, is a fairly natural consequence of a place having some of the most incredible landscape in the world. In addition, the saturation of gringos in San Pedro really tends to drive the price of various excursions down to very manageable levels, although everything added up quickly after three days!
Immediately upon arriving midday Friday we decided to look for an easy excursion to take that afternoon. Luckily for us, one of the most incredible sunsets in the world just so happens to take place in the Valle de la Luna, just outside San Pedro. For just $14 each we were guided on beautiful 2.5 hour hike through salt gorges, reaching the peak of a small cerro which served as our sunset venue. This was our view...
Later that night, after eating a very decent three-course meal in front of a warm fire for $10 US, we went to book some excursions for the following day. There are countless options for day and half-day trips in San Pedro, but we knew that we did not want to wake up at 4am in order to go on the full day geysers and high-alpine lakes tour, even though this is supposed to be incredible (for the next time!). Instead, we negotiated with a tour company to go sandboarding in the morning and see the Salar de Atacama in the afternoon. Fantastic decision.
At first, sandboarding seemed to be a bit counter-productive. The sand dune that we were boarding on was massive, and we had to trek back up through what seemed like a treadmill of sand at full speed after each run to the bottom. I also had no idea that turning is nearly impossible on a sandboard, making the whole activity a lot less interesting than I expected. However, after surviving a few horrific head-over-feet tumbles, I really began to enjoy the simplicity of bombing straight downhill as fast as possible. Before each run the board needs to be waxed, and we each were given a stick of wax with which we could cover the board as little or as much as preferred, translating into different levels of slickness and therefore speed. The highlight was definitely lubing up the board to the max. and bombing it from the high point of the dune, only to take a massive spill at the bottom! I suffered quite a bruise from that...
The trip to the Salar de Atacama (Atacama salt flat) that afternoon was unforgettable. A nearby town called Toconao, containing a large Atacameña population, has a wonderful symbiotic relationship with the surrounding salt flats: numerous knowledgeable guides are hired from the town and a certain percentage of proceeds from park entrance fees are recycled back into the community somehow. It really seems like a case of indigenous eco-tourism done the proper way.
After watching a short video about the ecosystem and formation of the salt flat, we were led out through the massive expanse by a local guide. I have never seen such beautiful contrast in a landscape: off-white salt shards permeate the horizon nearly as far as the eye can see until the yellow and green altiplano (high-alpine plain) rises up to meet the towering peaks of the Andes. Numerous volcanoes, many pushing 6,000 meters (19,260 ft), dominate the skyline just above the salt flats; in fact, one in particular (I no longer remember the name) has erupted quite frequently over the past few decades.
After strolling through a well-worn salt path, we were led to a viewing area situated between two lagoons populated by three of the five still-existing species of flamingo. Why there are even five species of flamingo I have no clue - it certainly seems like one would suffice, as they're all quite similar and similarly useless. Still, they're not too bad to look at, and I snapped tons of photos of the Chilean species grazing the lagoon for small pink organisms (which happen to give them their color). Once the sun set the colors of the surrounding landscape really exploded, and I took a few photos that should be frame-worthy once I return.
After spending that Saturday night eating another nice 3 course meal (this time including some wine) for $10 and having some drinks with a nice Belgian couple in front of a fuego fuerte, we rose early to take our rented mountain bikes ($6 for half-day!) on a promising 20km round trip tour of the Valle de Catarpe. After about 3km, we hit the Pukara ruins, an Atacameña village dating back to the 11th Century if I'm not mistaken. It was in surprisingly good shape considering its age.
After about 6km of pedaling through this amazing valley, we were stopped by a fairly substantial river. At that point it was nearly 11am, and we had a bus to catch at 2:15pm. While the girls immediately decided to turn back to town, I of course couldn't resist the challenge of trying to cross the damn thing. I scoped out different crossings up and down stream, but at its narrow sections the river was simply that much deeper. Still trying to avoid getting soaked in this freezing glacial torrent, I found a somewhat peaceful-looking section and just hit the water at full speed, thinking I might be able to get across. Not quite! I hit the other bank with one leg completely submerged, the girls laughing hysterically and probably thinking "thank God we decided against that".
Obviously having committed to the entire journey by now, I pressed on for another 2km, reaching a steep gorge that led to Tambo Catarpe, an Inca resting place.
After being rewarded with this incredible ruin set on a level hill above the valley, I pressed on to find a very unique church at the 10km mark.
Realizing that time was running very short at this point (I had a bus to catch, after all), I began to really pump the pedals to try to make it back. I found a great spot to cross the river a few hundred meters up stream from where I fell in, but still had to heave my bike across to the other bank and jump after it. Thinking that I was in the clear, I rode hard to meet the regular trail that leads back to San Pedro. Then, surprise! The bank I was on disappeared, and I was forced to cross to the other bank (the side opposite the one I needed!). This time, it didn't go as smoothly, as my bike throw was a few feet short and the damn thing started to drift down stream! I jumped in after it, submerged nearly to my waist. Finally emerging from the river with bike in tow (albeit with a bent handlebar), I needed to cross once more, this time making it but falling on my face after the long jump. At the time (like a complete fool) I wasn't even thinking about my new (and frighteningly expensive) camera stuffed in my backpack - thank God for gore tex, as everything was dry, except for the bottom half of my body. I proceeded to pedal the remaining 6km like a complete fiend, making it back just before checkout time!
Somehow after this entire ordeal I wasn't crippled in any way. In fact, I was pretty damn pumped full of adrenaline at that point, and took one of the most satisfying showers of my life! Before catching the bus, we went to witness a massive parade (probably containing the entire village), held every June 29 in honor of Pedro's (therefore, the town's) Saint's Day.
Having boarded the bus and finally feeling the soporific effects of my adventure, I slumped into my seat with the intention of having a nice nap to pass away the hours. Unfortunately my Dutch-Colombian-Chilean seat-neighbor had other plans for me on that bus ride, and proceeded to divulge the entire story of his conversion to the Rastafarian way of life and admiration for "his Emperor" Haile Selassie. Just when I thought I was in the clear and started to doze off, he dropped a bomb of a question on me:
"What do you think the world will be like in 10 years?"
"Well," I responded sleepily, "China and India will probably be very powerful and gas will be really damn expensive."
My clearly lame attempt to avoid predicting the fate of my country in 10 years did not satisfy him, and of course he pressed on.
"But, hey mannnn, what about your country, the United States of Jorge Bush?"
"In 10 years...hmmmm..."
I knew I was going to have to give him something that would mesh with his "philosophies" for me to be able sleep on that bus ride, so I quickly thew out...
"Well, the first black President in the history of the U.S. will just have left office..."
"Yeah, man, that's what I'm talking about!"
Then I slept a nice deep sleep, thoroughly satisfied by this latest of many personal victories and completely in awe of the desolate beauty of San Pedro and the vast Atacama Desert.
1 comment:
great& sharp-tongued; i love it!
esp. the bike & bus part of the story :))
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