Arica and South

It´s something of a "Reverse Culture Shock" to arrive in Arica, Chile from Bolivia. What happened to South America ? The people are larger, taller, fairer skins, no indigenous apparel, everyone is dressed Western style. I actually saw a Fat Child !!  Everything is Westernised, there are shop fronts with glass in ! and Malls. No vendadores on the streets.  And above all, everything is really expensive !! It takes some time to adjust back to all this again, and for several weeks I really miss Bolivia.

The best bit about Arica was just down the coast where the road peters out into a surprisingly smooth gravel section, which follows the cliff edge for several kilometers. I ride along it on my bike !, through an entirely natural tunnel section, pic right, very satisfying !!



The next day I start the run South, down on the Panamericana (again). There is nothing out there but desert !!!  once again, there are not too many petrol stations !. It´s 260km before I see the first one after Arica. Round about the middle of this distance 3 fairly desperate Chilean women in a Freelander stop me, twice !!, and ask for petrol ! Me !  with my 2 gallon tank !  I have to decline as I did not know how far until the next station (even if they had taken the lot, they would not have made it in a 4x4 !!).

Just as it´s getting dark I pull off the road and ride about 1km to one side and then, for the first time, put my new tent up and "wild camp" in the desert. It´s quite a comfortable night but even at that distance I find the trucks make quite a racket. The new mat and sleeping bag work well and I´m surprised in the morning to find frost on the inside of the tent and a frozen water bottle, it must have gone negative overnight.  The tent is JUST big enough to get all my clobber inside, plus me. In the morning I realise I´m far too close to the road, with the sun on it the tent is a flaming orange beacon to any passing police person. I did not really want a bright orange one for just this reason, but it´s all they had....

Next day I visit Humberstone, a "Ghost Town" constructed in 1934, abandoned in 1960. It was a town built in the desert, entirely for "Saltpetre" extraction, used in natural fertilizers. Because it´s in the desert everything is in superb condition, there is a theatre, church, cinema, all looks in working order, yet it´s been 50 years !!. I find two things particularly interesting, firstly that most of the machine tools are British !  including the locomotives. Secondly, there are no plastics  !!  none at all. It´s hard to describe why this is strange, everything is made of wood, steel and iron, just as it would have been (I suppose) in 1934.

In the afternoon I manage another 160km further South before finding another campsite in a copse of trees. This one is not so good, it´s rather spooky and the local shop does not sell any food. So for Supper and for Breakfast I have just two manquy stale cheese sandwiches (bought at a Customs checkpoint earlier in the day), I was not impressed !! and did not sleep at all. 

I had a good day the next day and made it to the booming mining town of Calama, riding past the world's largest copper mine at Chiquamata, and it`s giant green slag heaps (pic below).

Giant, green-tinged slag heaps.....

At Calama I found I just did not have the stomach for another night out in the desert, just too tired & too smelly ! I found what I thought was a cheap miners boarding house and stayed there, I had a room but everything was very grubby. I had a good night (I slept) but in the morning I found that not one of the "miners" had gone to work, they turned out to be mostly druggies, alcoholics and street robbers (one of them tried to sell me one of the phones he´d stolen the day before !). I found the steering lock (on my bike) was broken in the morning, on reflection, I think it could have been a lot worse !

Later on that day I reach my destination, San Pedro de Atacama, the road to get there was quite amazing, over high passes, across enormous plains, the quality of light and the scale of the line of volanoes in the distance was mind-blowing.

After some trouble finding a place that I can store my bike at, I pay $16 for a dorm bed, the most expensive lodging in my whole 9 month trip to date !! In the evening I try and find an agency to book a 4x4 trip back to Bolivia, as thanks to the strikers I missed out on the "Salar de Uyuni" in Bolivia, now I can go back to Bolivia, from San Pedro (for a price...).