El Viaje Espectacular: Part I
Photos are back...is what I was originally going to write, but Blogger is now refusing to upload them. Faced with the prospect of no pictorial record of our trip to the North of Chile, Erin and I broke down and purchased the worst, cheapest, unstealable camera that Chilean pesos could buy. The saleswoman even took time to explain to us that it was specifically meant to be a child's camera. We were not dissuaded, however, and it was a good thing since the desert was amazingly photogenic. As a result, we now have pictures to share, although not right now apparently. What a tease. Well, at least you still have my fantastic writing to enjoy...
We began our trip on Monday of last week. We packed up all of our camping gear, clothing, potato chips, and whatnot and headed for the bus station, where we were promptly told that all the tickets to the North were sold out. After Erin calmed down, we purchased tickets for the next evening, having decided that on a long bus ride it would be better to wait for seats not directly across from the bathroom (more on that later). We spent the night enjoying some beers with our house friends, learning how to curse at people in French and Spanish, and attempting to explain the versatility of the word fuck. Rafa, the mexican, had the easiest time learning English and quickly mastered important phrases like, "Fuck you, you fucking fuck," and, "Fuck off, fucker." We also found a little shop that had the best empanadas I've ever tasted. I wish I was eating one right now. Tuesday, we repacked and got to the bus station in the evening for our ride.
It's difficult to tell from a globe or a map, but it turns out Chile is a ridiculously long country. Our bus ride was something like 25 hours. Fortunately, the Chileans have found a couple of good ways to make the journey more pleasant. The first is the semi-cama, which I believe translates roughly to "it's kind of like a bed." It's a bus seat that tilts back extra far. You don't get to be horizontal, but you get as close as you can without actually putting your head in the lap of the person behind you. The second thing they have is Brad Pitt movies. First we saw a Spanish dubbed Senor y Senora Smith, followed by a subtitled Troy, followed by Senor y Senora Smith literally three more times in a row. It really is one of those movies you need to see a couple times to really appreciate. The only snag in the whole trip was that some people were egregiously disregarding the sign that clearly said something like, "The bathroom is only for urination." It's hard to really enjoy a good Brad Pitt movie when you're trapped in a box that smells like an open septic tank. We were, however, very happy with our decision to wait for seats at the front of the bus. Anyway, roughly a day after we started, we arrived rather uneventfully in San Pedro de Atacama.
San Pedro is an interesting place. It has a population of about five thousand people, almost all of whom work in the tourist industry in some fashion or another. Some rent rooms (or in our case, ground) to tourists, some sell food to tourists, some rent bikes to tourist, some drive tourists to various places, others sell crap nobody in their right mind would buy to tourists. About half of these people are native Atacamanians, and the other half are foreigners who have migrated in to make a quick buck. The whole place was put on the map about 50 or so years ago by a Jesuit priest/amateur archeologist named Gustavo Le Paige. Apparently in between masses and (allegedly) smoking a lot of marijuana he found time to ride around the area and uncover evidence of some of the earliest permanent settlements (dating back to before Christ) in South America. Archeologists showed up first to check it out, followed by tourists who wanted to look at mummies and, incidently, the amazingly beautiful landscape around the town. Several decades later, we showed up.
Despite the fact that August is normally one of the busiest months of the year in San Pedro, the place was relatively empty (a Canadian tour guide we talked to blamed this on the terrorists...damn terrorists). The absence of people meant most of the restaurant owners spent a lot of time outside on the street trying to get us to come in. We even saw two guys having a contest to see how many customers they could get. We had to turn down offers of dinner or lunch about ten times a day, and the Chileans always did a convincing job of having their feelings hurt. We ended up camping in a very nice hostel, and after a night of sleep that was way better than anything you could ever find on a bus, we were ready to go. We spent our first day in San Pedro visiting the Gustavo Le Paige Archeological Museum, which had a couple of mummies, some old clay pots, and a whole lot of drug paraphenalia. Apparently, the first thing the indigenous people started doing after they managed to devolop agriculture and domesticated animals was cocaine, for which they made elaborate pipes and little dishes. In another brilliant cultural advance, they also started deforming their children's skulls (as a sign of social status), and we saw a couple that looked like they were harvested from the Coneheads. The rest of the day we spent checking out various tour offices, trying to find some good cheap things to do.
At this point, it's time for dinner, so this is going to have to be Part I. I was originally planning to leave you some of our recently developed pictures for you to mull over and fantasize about what interesting stories must go along with them, but now, thanks to Blogger, you get nothing.
We began our trip on Monday of last week. We packed up all of our camping gear, clothing, potato chips, and whatnot and headed for the bus station, where we were promptly told that all the tickets to the North were sold out. After Erin calmed down, we purchased tickets for the next evening, having decided that on a long bus ride it would be better to wait for seats not directly across from the bathroom (more on that later). We spent the night enjoying some beers with our house friends, learning how to curse at people in French and Spanish, and attempting to explain the versatility of the word fuck. Rafa, the mexican, had the easiest time learning English and quickly mastered important phrases like, "Fuck you, you fucking fuck," and, "Fuck off, fucker." We also found a little shop that had the best empanadas I've ever tasted. I wish I was eating one right now. Tuesday, we repacked and got to the bus station in the evening for our ride.
It's difficult to tell from a globe or a map, but it turns out Chile is a ridiculously long country. Our bus ride was something like 25 hours. Fortunately, the Chileans have found a couple of good ways to make the journey more pleasant. The first is the semi-cama, which I believe translates roughly to "it's kind of like a bed." It's a bus seat that tilts back extra far. You don't get to be horizontal, but you get as close as you can without actually putting your head in the lap of the person behind you. The second thing they have is Brad Pitt movies. First we saw a Spanish dubbed Senor y Senora Smith, followed by a subtitled Troy, followed by Senor y Senora Smith literally three more times in a row. It really is one of those movies you need to see a couple times to really appreciate. The only snag in the whole trip was that some people were egregiously disregarding the sign that clearly said something like, "The bathroom is only for urination." It's hard to really enjoy a good Brad Pitt movie when you're trapped in a box that smells like an open septic tank. We were, however, very happy with our decision to wait for seats at the front of the bus. Anyway, roughly a day after we started, we arrived rather uneventfully in San Pedro de Atacama.
San Pedro is an interesting place. It has a population of about five thousand people, almost all of whom work in the tourist industry in some fashion or another. Some rent rooms (or in our case, ground) to tourists, some sell food to tourists, some rent bikes to tourist, some drive tourists to various places, others sell crap nobody in their right mind would buy to tourists. About half of these people are native Atacamanians, and the other half are foreigners who have migrated in to make a quick buck. The whole place was put on the map about 50 or so years ago by a Jesuit priest/amateur archeologist named Gustavo Le Paige. Apparently in between masses and (allegedly) smoking a lot of marijuana he found time to ride around the area and uncover evidence of some of the earliest permanent settlements (dating back to before Christ) in South America. Archeologists showed up first to check it out, followed by tourists who wanted to look at mummies and, incidently, the amazingly beautiful landscape around the town. Several decades later, we showed up.
Despite the fact that August is normally one of the busiest months of the year in San Pedro, the place was relatively empty (a Canadian tour guide we talked to blamed this on the terrorists...damn terrorists). The absence of people meant most of the restaurant owners spent a lot of time outside on the street trying to get us to come in. We even saw two guys having a contest to see how many customers they could get. We had to turn down offers of dinner or lunch about ten times a day, and the Chileans always did a convincing job of having their feelings hurt. We ended up camping in a very nice hostel, and after a night of sleep that was way better than anything you could ever find on a bus, we were ready to go. We spent our first day in San Pedro visiting the Gustavo Le Paige Archeological Museum, which had a couple of mummies, some old clay pots, and a whole lot of drug paraphenalia. Apparently, the first thing the indigenous people started doing after they managed to devolop agriculture and domesticated animals was cocaine, for which they made elaborate pipes and little dishes. In another brilliant cultural advance, they also started deforming their children's skulls (as a sign of social status), and we saw a couple that looked like they were harvested from the Coneheads. The rest of the day we spent checking out various tour offices, trying to find some good cheap things to do.
At this point, it's time for dinner, so this is going to have to be Part I. I was originally planning to leave you some of our recently developed pictures for you to mull over and fantasize about what interesting stories must go along with them, but now, thanks to Blogger, you get nothing.
posted by Erin and Nate at
8:49 PM
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