The Atacama

Arica, Chile is a surprisingly clean, orderly city near the border of Peru on the Pacific Coast. Immediately, we noticed a difference from Bolivia and Peru...the drivers seemed to understand the concept of traffic laws.  No endless and annoying honking.  No heart ing the throat, white nuckle driving...no screams emanating from the Little Red Truck. The roads were good.  We had no hotel reservations, as we intended to go on to the next town that evening.  But realizing it was 200 miles up the road, we called it quits for the day.  Observation:  In Chile, the wine is half the cost, and gasoline is double the cost.  Unfortunately, the Little Red Truck does not run on wine.

We set out early the next morning for Antofagasta, a large city of 250,000+ about 465 miles down the road.  The trek took us inland on the Pan Am up above the coast in the Altiplano, in the desolate Atacama Desert.  We leterally have been driving in the desert since entering Peru days ago, but the Atacama took us to the top of the food chain for deserts...nothing grows here...nothing.  Two hundred miles later, we intered the town of Iquique, a venue I have visited before on a paragliding trip.  It was fun seeing the places I've flown, but this is not the time of year to fly here, as the winds are too strong...besides, Jim is intent on keeping us on the move.  From Iquique, we chose to deviate from the Pan Am and follow the coast for the rest of the day, thinking that it would releave some of the monotony of the drive.  

We cruised into Antofagasta at dusk and realized that our GPS could not help us find the hotel. It would not regognize the address. Antofagasta is an elongated city along the coast, and of course, all Latin American countries save loads of money by not putting up ANY street signs.  Yes, that means we got hopelessly lost again and returned to our most expensive navigational tool, a taxi.  

Coastal Chile is supported by one major economic engine...mining.  First, Nitrates in the 1800's and now, copper.  Coastal towns are drab, and dirty.  We observe the dominance of the mining comanies everywhere, and every hamlet seems to be a "company town".  As we proceeded south from Antofagasta the next day, we alternated between the coast and rising over the coastal mountains to the Altiplano and back several times, each involving altitude changes of 7,000 feet in elevation.  Another 300+ miles later, we settle for the day in the town of Copiapo...yes, a drab, working class mining town.  Copper is King.  The restaurant we visited for dinner was titled "Bavaria", but when I asked about the Schnitzel (sp?), they thought I was crazy.  There were 31 patrons in the restaurant, 30 men and one woman, and even her gender was in question...had we stumbled onto Chile's first gay eatery?  Or, is this such a rough town that women just don't go out at night?  Who knows...

Tomorrow, 500 miles or so to Santiago, leaving the Atacama about half way along the trial.