The driest place on the planet (that isn't at a pole) is the Atacama desert. Naturally one must pop in when one is in the same continent, if only to say "Huh, this is a very picturesque blighted hellscape, don't you agree darling?".
We flew to Calama, the closest thing to civilisation, before making our way to San Pedro de Atacama. San Pedro exists in the middle of several points of natural beauty and therefore serves as hub for adventurous tourists and some truly certifiable cyclists. The town looks poor, but as far as I know it might just be scruffy because everyone apparently insists on building their own place - sometimes in a heroic triumph of optimism and economy over competence and utility. The preponderance of unbaked adobe brick (if nothing else, this trip has left me well versed in brick) would mean that half the town would dissolve in a day of British drizzle.
Forsaking the numerous tours offered in the area, we hired a vehicle to see it all for ourselves. This time we got something more appropriate in that we had a diesel-chugging behemoth 4x4 pickup truck. Behold El Monstruo:
Leading to several yells of "It's gripped; It's sorted; Let's offroad!" before totally fucking up the diff lock and stalling.
Suitably saddled up, we set about it. I did forget my passport and immigration receipt on the second day, which made for some awkward conversation at a police checkpoint near the Bolivian and Argentine borders. They wrestled with whether to press the issue after it became clear that I was clearly an imbecile who couldn't speak Spanish. Ultimately they erred on the side of laziness and waved me on with a scornful look.
The desert is dotted with volcanoes, salt flats and the occasional lagoons, and is home to a fair abundence of wildlife. They have guanacos here -as in Patagonia- but also llamas and vicuñas (a smaller variant with different colours- the national animal of Peru, no less): They also have the occasional donkey.
Flamingos also feature - especially at the Chaxas Lagoon, which is home to three varieties. They live off the brine shrimp found lurking in the salty water. Brine shrimp are a bit weird, by the way: they lay eggs that can lay dormant for decades, being hatched when required. There were also a few lizards and other birds knocking about, eating what the Flamingos kick up when they're looking for food.
There was also a rather inprobable valley filled with vegetation, which was originally irrigated by the local natives and was improved upon subsequently. It was very modestly reminiscent of Zion national park in that it was a very green oasis full of life in the middle of desolation. The caves cut into the cliffs and the remaining petroglyphs are also a bit similar to the Pueblo villages we saw in New Mexico.
The first night, we were taken into the hills by the local astromical institute to do some stargazing. The absolute absence of metropolitan glare and the sheer space available make this area particularly suited for staring into the inky nothingness above. Our Canadian guide -equipped with a very nifty green laser- pointed out the constellations, even thought they were all wrong and upside-down due to our being in an unnatural hemisphere. The aussies in attendance were somewhat baffled by the absence of the southern cross. It is all a matter of latitude, my dear loaf-stealers. There were ten telescope of various types, pre-trained on astronomical bodies which we could walk around and observe. Then there was a Q&A session in the lodge with cocoa.
I took a stab at some long exposure photos while I was there. We have a bridge camera rather than an SLR, and the stabilisation circuit is playing up (I bought some screwdrivers in Santiago - it will rue the day) but here you go:
The desert is dotted with volcanoes, salt flats and the occasional lagoons, and is home to a fair abundence of wildlife. They have guanacos here -as in Patagonia- but also llamas and vicuñas (a smaller variant with different colours- the national animal of Peru, no less): They also have the occasional donkey.
There was also a rather inprobable valley filled with vegetation, which was originally irrigated by the local natives and was improved upon subsequently. It was very modestly reminiscent of Zion national park in that it was a very green oasis full of life in the middle of desolation. The caves cut into the cliffs and the remaining petroglyphs are also a bit similar to the Pueblo villages we saw in New Mexico.
The first night, we were taken into the hills by the local astromical institute to do some stargazing. The absolute absence of metropolitan glare and the sheer space available make this area particularly suited for staring into the inky nothingness above. Our Canadian guide -equipped with a very nifty green laser- pointed out the constellations, even thought they were all wrong and upside-down due to our being in an unnatural hemisphere. The aussies in attendance were somewhat baffled by the absence of the southern cross. It is all a matter of latitude, my dear loaf-stealers. There were ten telescope of various types, pre-trained on astronomical bodies which we could walk around and observe. Then there was a Q&A session in the lodge with cocoa.
I took a stab at some long exposure photos while I was there. We have a bridge camera rather than an SLR, and the stabilisation circuit is playing up (I bought some screwdrivers in Santiago - it will rue the day) but here you go:
The first obigatory thing to do in this area is to visit Valle de la Luna (Valley of the Moon) at sunset. A stout fellow from Mexico named Diego helped us out at the admin point on the way in, in that he had change for the ticket and could translate for us. The day was running out so we threw his bike in the back and he came along with us to see what there was to see. This first picture below is called Las Tres Marías (The Three Marias), because that is literally what they call anything they find that has three things in Latin America. This area is where NASA tests it's rover vehicles, as it emulates forbidding alien rocky terrain rather well.
The second obligatory thing to do is catch the geysers at El Tatio at sunrise. Unlike Yellowstone, where you can watch them gassing off all day, it's so hot here you need to come first thing where it's so cold one can witness brass monkeys frantically searching for a welder. The rest of the day, they're just bubbling holes in the ground. So we got up at Jesus fucking Christ o'clock in order to drive the 90km up there in time for sunrise at 06:00. It was quite pretty, even if my extremities turned black and fell off. They don't bother with the Yellowstone-style secure boardwalks over tested solid ground here, so occasionally hapless tourists fall through the crust and have a bad day. Exciting.
Chan managed to get the hire car $171, rather than £171 as listed on Europcar's UK website. And the getting up early meant we got three days' worth of careering about for two days of car, so that was nice. It's busy in Chantelle's head. I'm just here to drive and lift things.
Kurzfassung auf Deutsch: Wir haben die Atacama-Wüste gereist. Es ist die trockenste Wüste der Welt, sondern ist die Heimat von vielen Lamas und Flamingos.
Die nahe gelegenen Geysire sind spektakulär, aber wir mussten sehr früh aufstehen, um sie zu sehen. Es war sehr kalt. Wir besuchten auch eine astronomische Institut und blickte zu den Sternen. Die Wüste, ohne all die Lichter der Stadt, ist sehr gut für Sternbeobachtung.
