Got up about midday. Arms and legs hurt. Wi-fi not working in my room (it seems to be a DHCP problem), so yet another day with no photos uploaded. Using the extremely naff computers in the hostel internet room to write this waffle.
Need to go over to the bus station and see if I can buy a ticket to La Paz. I suspect this is going to be problematic. Anyway, the vague plan is to get a bus about 9pm on Monday night and therefore get into La Paz about 7am. That's all very vague, there are no clear timetables on the web. The best seems to be bus-america.com, but that helpfully shows departure times and no arrival times.
Sunday 28 February 2010
Oh joy
The internet connection isn't working any more. The network is visible but I can't connect. What a steaming pile of shit.
Further South American bar reviews
Left the hostel about 9:30 (the laptop is, touch wood, grinding away at the backlog of photos to upload) and wandered vaguely over to the town centre. The one bar mentioned in my shoestring guide (Cafe Pub 4060) was easy to find but looked a little sterile so I walked past.
I wandered round a bit and sort of found a couple of places but nothing really obviously open or appealing. I remembered I had seen a bar next door to the one I visited earlier and am there now. It's rather wanky to be honest, the barman is wearing a tie, which I never regard as a good sign, and a suited young woman served me at a table. (She completely served me the wrong beer, but as I struggled with the language during the order I kept schtum.) I suspect I will finish this (taking my time) and go for another wander. I have no idea how late the nightlife goes here (or when it starts), but I have to be careful as I think the altitude may make me more prone to alcoholic effects, so I don't necessarily want to be out particularly late. But there are so many vagaries when it comes to the effects of alcohol that it's difficult to be sure. I do know I struggled to finish the litre earlier but that wasn't necessarily altitude related.
As a purely random observation, I have tried chewing coca leaves. I had been dubious while in the UK purely on the grounds that they apparently make you test positive for cocaine use for a few days, but now I'm here it seems silly to worry. I was offered some a couple of times on the Uyuni trip as they are supposed to help with the altitude, although I seem to think I read something saying they don't. I was also offered some at the bottom of the mine (they're suppose to help there too, I suspect they are suppose to cure whatever ails you), and in fact had a massive wodge stuck in my cheek during the fatal climb which I gobbed out afterwards as they were interfering with my desperate water swigging.
I can take them or leave them (no pun intended) I think. They're not unpleasant but I see little inherent attraction except for the alleged health benefits.
Hmm, feeling a certain tight headachey quality, presumably due to the beer, although I guess I had a mentally and physically stressful day. I really would have hoped I'd be getting acclimatised by now, this is my fifth day out of San Pedro. Oh well. This casts a certain doubt on the going for a wander after this beer plan. I guess I'll finish it and go out and see how I feel.
It's not particularly warm here and it rains a lot. It's not all that cold, but I have been wearing a T-shirt, fleece and thin jacket most of the time, albeit the latter two are often open. I would naively have expected it to be warmer this far north, but I guess it's the rainy season and it's high up.
It occurs to me that I entered Bolivia without a ticket out of the country. This is no problem, since they let me in, but I have been led to believe in general you can get strife from immigration officials if this is the case.
I also observed from hanging around with those guys I met on the Uyuni trip that they are a bit more concerned about money than I am. I guess I have been a bit extravagant and hope (partly for reasons of economy and partly with a view to meeting people) to avoid hotels in favour of more basic accommodation in general, but it's not as if I got the impression I was substantially better off than them.
It's midnight. Just got back to the hostel. The fucking flickr upload screwed up as per usual and maybe 4 photos have been uploaded. It had done 4 when I left it.
I didn't go for another beer, I left that bar and walked back to the hostel. About 20m from the door a fucking dog was barking its bloody head off and I had to turn back. Oh for a fucking gun. Since I figured I'd have to get a cab back anyway and as my head had cleared slightly I walked back into the centre to Cafe Pub 4060. They were shutting in 15 mins so I walked to some nearby plaza, opposite the cathedral. I hung around there for a few minutes trying to soak up the atmosphere but the place was dead. Got a cab back for 6 Bolivianos, which is nothing but it's annoying I needed to.
The bar I was in tonight may or may not have shut at midnight, I don't know. But since both the small bar I went to this afternoon shut at midnight according to the menu and Cafe Pub 4060 was the same I have a nasty feeling it may be standard here. I guess I will have to pursue this further in La Paz, tomorrow night I won't want to be out late anyway.
Oh well. Will restart the laptop upload just for grins and at least I can get up when I feel like it tomorrow for the first time since IIRC last Sunday.
Further wafflings
Casual readers should probably skip this post and go for the "Down the mine" one below, which is action-packed compared to this.
I shall let the post I wrote earlier from my new hostel (which could be called a hotel, it's quite comfortable, as it should be for 75 or 150 Bolivianos a night - I got confused when checking in and can't remember - compared to 50 at the other one - although in absolute terms 15 quid a night at worst isn't bad value at all) stand, as containing my relatively unedited account of the mine tour. I haven't sent it yet as the wifi screwed up, but I wrote it about 3pm before I had too much time to rationalise or mentally edit events. I feel I may have gone overboard to indicate that I wasn't that worked up after the event, but I got the impression other people did think my continual wheezing was a symptom of that. Maybe it was, but I didn't really think it was so I wanted to record that.
I might observe at this point that despite the protective clothing, which was admittedly more against dirt than anything else and wasn't that thick, I scraped my elbows and knees quite badly. When I finally took a look at the new hostel it wasn't a bad as I'd though, there are a few scrapes but not the classic schoolboy-style knee and elbow scabs.
(I was wearing a pair of jeans - they have been trashed by the Uyuni trip and the muddy streets of Uyuni already, so I figured I had little to lose by wearing them again - and a white T-shirt under the provided jacket and trousers.)
I came out afterwards and did the tour at the Casa de Moneda, which my shoestring guide says is the best museum in Bolivia. They are open tomorrow morning but I didn't want to rely on getting up. Not sure how much else I will be able to see tomorrow with it being Sunday, but I think I've already seen the main sights and we'll see how it goes. I need to investigate buses to La Paz on Monday tomorrow. I am here all day tomorrow and depending on how the buses work I may end up being here most of Monday. I need to check I am OK for time but I think I am. If I see La Paz - which is practically certain - and Lake Titicaca I'll be satisfied, if I don't visit Peru it can wait til next time. One thing that surprises me about the three guys I've been with here is how they seem to zoom round, despite having more time than I do. Stefan stayed here only last night and got a bus on to Sucre today after the mine tour, and the couple are off to La Paz tomorrow.
The couple told me last night about 'the most dangerous road in the world' or something, it's a bike ride down the edge of some mountain in La Paz. Apparently no experience is necessary and it's all downhill and guides go with you to stop you going too fast. I may look into that when I'm there. Apparently you can hire everything you need and it's all downhill (they take you to the top in a car or something) so fitness shouldn't be too much of an issue. Of course, given how I managed to fall off going downhill in Puerto Williams this may be a stupid idea, but it sounds quite cool and I'm sure it isn't really that dangerous.
Am writing this down a sort of pub (Cima De Plata Pub Cafe Club, in Calle Padilla) which is miraculously open at this hour after doing the tour at the Casa de Moneda. It was quite interesting, all about the history of minting coins here. I was chuffed to understand 75-90% of what the tour guide said. It wasn't a totally fascinating museum, but worth visiting all the same.
I took a few photos in there although there wasn't much point. But I had paid an extra 20 Bolivianos for permission to use a camera (basic entrance was 10 for locals and 20 for foreigners) so I felt obliged.
While waiting for the tour to start I met an Australian guy. We talked about the mine tour, he did a different one and there was no climbing involved. So I guess despite my problems I had a more 'intense' experience than I might have had on a different tour. Probably better to have 90% success on the tour I did than a complete success on something more pedestrian, so I will try not to beat myself up too much.
I think that mine tour has to be one of the most challenging (I hate myself for using the word, but can't think of a better) things I have ever done. Just a shame it wasn't an unqualified success but at least I had a go and so forth.
I might observe that it wasn't really dark down there. We all had lamps on our helmets (mine kept falling off when I hit my head on a low beam, I kept reattaching it but towards the end after my climbing problem the guide had a look at it and said it was broken and I should just hold it) and with being in such a big group (our group had 7 people) there wasn't really much darkness. There were dingier rooms on the Casa de Moneda tour. I'm sure that helped to keep away the claustrophobic feelings.
The guide said while we were at the miner's market that the guide books say to give cigarettes to the miners. He said that was stupid, some do smoke but not in the mines, and by no means all of them. I checked afterwards and my guide book did indeed say that.
I checked when I got into this bar that they had change for a 100 Boliviano note before I ordered. I have learned from experience (at the hostel this morning paying up before the tour, as well as breakfast yesterday) that you just can't rely on it here.
This bar has a small reproduction of some weird wooden painted head which we closed the tour at Casa de Moneda with. I can't quite remember what the guide said, but maybe it is one of those local icons which sort of represent the city in practice.
It's 7:15 now. I've been nursing a litre of Potosina pilsner (an acceptable if unspectacular drop) and there is now one other table occupied. I've just ordered some food, will eat that, back to the hotel to see if the internet is working so I can leave photos uploading and find one or two bars in the guide book so I'm not totally stuck if my meanderings fail to turn something up.
The music here is all in English ("Another day in paradise" right now, quite a lot of Queen earlier.). No idea if that's common here. The other group look local and this is a pretty small place, so I doubt it's a particulalrly touristy venue.
Saturday 27 February 2010
Chilean earthquake
I have not bothered to read up on this in any detail, but for the record I found out about it when someone looked on the internet this morning and told me. I don't know where it was or if it could be felt here (Potosi in Bolivia), but I didn't feel it and no one else has said they did either.
Down the mine
Montezuma continuing to exact revenge this morning, but I took some more drugs and apart from being a minor concern to start with I was actually fine in this regard.
We got picked up at the hostel at 8:45 and driven over to some depot owned by the tour company where we got dressed up in rather ridiculous looking caving/mining outfits. They then proceeded to ship us over to the miner's market in a nearby street wearing this outlandish gear. I am so glad I wasn't the only one there.
They do this thing where you are strongly encouraged to buy gifts for the miners, a soft drink and a stick of dynamite (yeah, odd combination) for 26 Bolivianos. Also coca leaves for 5 Bolivianos. I don't resent the money, but it smacks a bit nastily of charity, why they can't just stick it on the ticket price I don't know. Anyway, apart from the coca leaves, the tour guide (an ex full time and now part time miner and part time tour guide) handed most of the stuff out, which wasn't too awkward.
After a bit of background while we were there at the market (just a street with mining shops really, apparently anyone can walk in off the street and buy dynamite here, seriously), they took us over to an independent plant where the extracted ore ("complejo" in Spanish, if memory serves) is processed to extract the three metals present (zinc, lead and a tiny bit of silver), still combined together but separated from the general dross. This is then shipped abroad for processing into the actual metals.
The plant is an independent company, the mines are apparently co-operative. The miners work for themselves and set their own hours etc and sell the ore they extract to whichever processing company they like.
We were then shipped over to the mine (I should say a mine, there are about 180 apparently) and went in. Low ceilings etc but generally OK. I found it quite tiring walking, which I guess is not surprising since I had been finding it slightly so last night on the ordinary streets.
After about five or ten minutes we stopped at a sort of opening and the guide gave us a long spiel about the mine. At this point I started to briefly imagine I was freaking out, but I decided it was just because I was genuinely having difficulty getting enough air and not the other way round. They had sold us a sort of bandanna for 10 Bolivianos earlier against the dust and I took that off and found that standing still plus the improved air flow helped me feel better.
We stayed there a surprisingly long time listening to the guide, I half suspect it was to give people a chance to go crazy early on but that is complete speculation on my part. The guide said that the miners earn about 40-50 Bolivianos a day, from the sale of ore rather than as a wage, which works out about 2-2.5 times the minimum wage. Everyone in Bolivia has large families which means they need the money to support their families, and also explains why people start working in the mines at about 13 or so. (A sort of vicious circle.) Apparently most of the groups who work together consist of related people. He said there is also an element of not planning ahead and just following the traditional route, since mining runs in families.
(I might observe at this point that while it's presumably not a very pleasant life working in the mines, the guys there are at least doing it "voluntarily" in the sense that they find it the best way to get money and are working for themselves. The situation sucks - and apparently the government doesn't care much, as the mines produce relatively little of value these days, the miners mainly work because they can/have to, in 20 years the mines may exist only as a tourist attraction - but it's not quite the bonded servitude I might have imagined when someone told me there were kids working in the mines.)
We then carried on for god knows how long with a couple of briefer stops. I was finding it quite tiring (well, for all I know it was controlled panic, but I'm fairly sure it was just the exertion). It was quite exciting in a strange and slightly unpleasant way.
Some of the tunnels were extremely narrow, it was crawling on hands and knees in places and there were some fairly steep downward slopes where you sort of ended up doing a controlled slide down on your arse. I was quite chuffed with myself for not freaking out, although I sort of had to keep a deliberate check on my thought processes to stop anything getting out of control.
When we got down to the lowest level - which was only about 60m, if memory serves, but it took so much time and effort to get down - it was pretty hot. We saw some miners shoving some wooden beams up into a hole in the ceiling down there but fortunately it was too difficult for us to go through. I had deliberately avoided asking if we were nearly at the bottom, partly as I didn't want to look cowardly and partly (probably the main reason) as I thought having a vague idea but not being totally clear would make it easier to keep myself under control. ("We'll be going back soon, they said 2 hours in the mine when we booked" vs "FFS, we have another 20 minutes before we can start to go up and that's going to take an hour".)
We also passed miners with carts of other wooden props and stuff on the way and occasionally had to wait for them or they had to wait for us.
So I was basically fairly cool all the way down and to start with coming back up. Then we got to the narrow and very steep bit. The woman ahead of me seemed to be having some trouble and the guide went up to help her and I waited back before the narrow bit with the rest of the group behind me. Eventually the guide shouted (not very clearly, but there was an assistant sort of chap waiting with our group who clarified) to go ahead and I went ahead.
I distinctly remember crawling through the narrowish tunnel thinking "you know, this is actually OK". But then it opened out quite a bit but became very steep, and perhaps because I went up the wrong side (I didn't have anyone to watch in front me of) and perhaps just due to an ineptness at this kind of thing, I did a kind of spider-in-the-bath climbing and falling routine up the slope, my hands kept slipping in the mud and when I got a handhold on a rock and managed to pull myself up, I'd lose it on the next one. I think I was probably panicking at this point, although there was definitely also an element of having shot my physical effort bolt. I was wheezing like a bastard at this point and I had falled back onto the people behind me a couple of times.
What I mainly recall is the sense of being completely exhausted and it requiring a major effort just to move. I don't know how badly or if I actually panicked in the sense of flailing around or what have you.
The guide came back and first told me to climb up the right hand side and so on. I think that would have been absolutely cool if I hadn't already exhausted myself, and was perhaps a bit calmer, but it didn't help. He then literally gave me a hand up for maybe the remaining 5 or 10 metres (I have no idea), and as it was even with his help it took what felt like a superhuman effort to keep dragging myself upwards. When we got to the top of that steep bit there were a couple of miners waiting on a small wooden platform and I collapsed next to them panting. One of them asked me in Spanish if I was dying and I said yes. (Apparently the miners all speak Quecha among themselves. Our guide said that as the public schools were not good and he left school at 13 or so, his English - which he learned at night school, privately, to be a tour guide - was better than his Spanish.) The guide told me (us, some other people were coming up behind me) to move over like two metres horizontally into this other area for a rest and just doing that was yet another massive effort.
The guide talked to me a bit when we got into the rest area, probably to try to calm me down. I was so out of breath I'd almost rather not have had to reply to him. It's hard to be sure, but especially once he told me there was no more climbing I don't think I was actually disturbed any more, just immensely out of breath. I might have expected the claustrophobic "get me out of here" feelings to burst out, but they didn't, I just wanted to sit down and rest forever. (It wouldn't have done any good. To jump ahead, I still felt knackered and was wheezing terribly - and it can't be panic all that time - for the time it took to finish the tour, go back to the depot to get changed, get the bus back to the hostel and pop down the road to book in at another hostel. That must be at least half an hour and maybe an hour.)
The guide took us slightly out of the way on the way out to see Tio, the miner's god, which was some sort of effigy surrounded by empty bottles. :-) I took very few photos on the whole trip and none after the climbing-and-failing incident, I just didn't have the energy, so I didn't get a picture of this. (My hands were also absolutely filthy and I didn't want to get the camera dirty.)
We then walked out, which seemed to take forever and cover miles, but the other guys I was with kept encouraging me (perhaps a bit unnecessarily, but it's the thought that counts) and I didn't really have much choice.
I lost my bandanna when I went through the falling experience, a shame as it would have been a moderately cool souvenir but no big deal all things considered.
When we got outside I just sat there feeling like I'd swallowed about a ton of dirt and swigging intermittently at my pathetically small and dirty bottle of water, gasping away like there was no tomorrow. As I already said, this didn't wear off until much much later. I might guess half an hour or an hour. (I might compare it with the time I legged it from the underground platforms at Vauxhall up to platform 8 just in time to dive through the door of the second to last train to Kingston. I spent 10-15 minutes sat in the doorway of the carriage panting and not caring if anyone was staring, I was just so exhausted with the effort. The mine thing today was worse, but it was vaguely the same kind of fighting for breath feeling.)
I think in total we were down there for about 90 minutes or two hours. I know it was at least an hour as I took a photo when we were nearly as low as we went and compared the time stamp with the one I took outside and they were nearly an hour apart, even before we turned round.
After we got out, the tour guide blew up some dynamite we had purchased earlier as entertainment. He was clowning around with the lit fuses (they were two minute ones or something) and we all passed the bags with attached lit fuses around. I didn't get a photo taken, but the way I see it I am unlikely to forget anything that happened this morning so I really don't need them, even if they would have been cool. He then planted them somewhere on the hillside and we saw the two fairly impressive explosions. (Once again I took no photos. It took all my strength to walk over to the area where he was doing the detonation.)
I feel a bit embarrassed but on the whole I think it was actually OK. I didn't freak out at the closed spaces particularly and even after the climbing problem I think I was relatively together mentally, just not physically. Of all the problems I expected to have that problem with the climbing was not one of them.
Would I do it again? I really don't know. On the one hand I didn't freak out while things were going OK, but on the other I did feel I was having to keep myself under control, so maybe it wouldn't be OK another time. And maybe the memory of the climbing problem would give me doubts about getting out if I did a similar thing in the future. As I say, I don't know. I am not going down the mines here again, that would just be stupid. I suppose I'll have to weigh things up should I ever be presented with the opportunity to do so elsewhere.
P.S. Did I mention I just felt totally physically exhausted and every movement required a major effort? Oh yes, I did. :-)
We got picked up at the hostel at 8:45 and driven over to some depot owned by the tour company where we got dressed up in rather ridiculous looking caving/mining outfits. They then proceeded to ship us over to the miner's market in a nearby street wearing this outlandish gear. I am so glad I wasn't the only one there.
They do this thing where you are strongly encouraged to buy gifts for the miners, a soft drink and a stick of dynamite (yeah, odd combination) for 26 Bolivianos. Also coca leaves for 5 Bolivianos. I don't resent the money, but it smacks a bit nastily of charity, why they can't just stick it on the ticket price I don't know. Anyway, apart from the coca leaves, the tour guide (an ex full time and now part time miner and part time tour guide) handed most of the stuff out, which wasn't too awkward.
After a bit of background while we were there at the market (just a street with mining shops really, apparently anyone can walk in off the street and buy dynamite here, seriously), they took us over to an independent plant where the extracted ore ("complejo" in Spanish, if memory serves) is processed to extract the three metals present (zinc, lead and a tiny bit of silver), still combined together but separated from the general dross. This is then shipped abroad for processing into the actual metals.
The plant is an independent company, the mines are apparently co-operative. The miners work for themselves and set their own hours etc and sell the ore they extract to whichever processing company they like.
We were then shipped over to the mine (I should say a mine, there are about 180 apparently) and went in. Low ceilings etc but generally OK. I found it quite tiring walking, which I guess is not surprising since I had been finding it slightly so last night on the ordinary streets.
After about five or ten minutes we stopped at a sort of opening and the guide gave us a long spiel about the mine. At this point I started to briefly imagine I was freaking out, but I decided it was just because I was genuinely having difficulty getting enough air and not the other way round. They had sold us a sort of bandanna for 10 Bolivianos earlier against the dust and I took that off and found that standing still plus the improved air flow helped me feel better.
We stayed there a surprisingly long time listening to the guide, I half suspect it was to give people a chance to go crazy early on but that is complete speculation on my part. The guide said that the miners earn about 40-50 Bolivianos a day, from the sale of ore rather than as a wage, which works out about 2-2.5 times the minimum wage. Everyone in Bolivia has large families which means they need the money to support their families, and also explains why people start working in the mines at about 13 or so. (A sort of vicious circle.) Apparently most of the groups who work together consist of related people. He said there is also an element of not planning ahead and just following the traditional route, since mining runs in families.
(I might observe at this point that while it's presumably not a very pleasant life working in the mines, the guys there are at least doing it "voluntarily" in the sense that they find it the best way to get money and are working for themselves. The situation sucks - and apparently the government doesn't care much, as the mines produce relatively little of value these days, the miners mainly work because they can/have to, in 20 years the mines may exist only as a tourist attraction - but it's not quite the bonded servitude I might have imagined when someone told me there were kids working in the mines.)
We then carried on for god knows how long with a couple of briefer stops. I was finding it quite tiring (well, for all I know it was controlled panic, but I'm fairly sure it was just the exertion). It was quite exciting in a strange and slightly unpleasant way.
Some of the tunnels were extremely narrow, it was crawling on hands and knees in places and there were some fairly steep downward slopes where you sort of ended up doing a controlled slide down on your arse. I was quite chuffed with myself for not freaking out, although I sort of had to keep a deliberate check on my thought processes to stop anything getting out of control.
When we got down to the lowest level - which was only about 60m, if memory serves, but it took so much time and effort to get down - it was pretty hot. We saw some miners shoving some wooden beams up into a hole in the ceiling down there but fortunately it was too difficult for us to go through. I had deliberately avoided asking if we were nearly at the bottom, partly as I didn't want to look cowardly and partly (probably the main reason) as I thought having a vague idea but not being totally clear would make it easier to keep myself under control. ("We'll be going back soon, they said 2 hours in the mine when we booked" vs "FFS, we have another 20 minutes before we can start to go up and that's going to take an hour".)
We also passed miners with carts of other wooden props and stuff on the way and occasionally had to wait for them or they had to wait for us.
So I was basically fairly cool all the way down and to start with coming back up. Then we got to the narrow and very steep bit. The woman ahead of me seemed to be having some trouble and the guide went up to help her and I waited back before the narrow bit with the rest of the group behind me. Eventually the guide shouted (not very clearly, but there was an assistant sort of chap waiting with our group who clarified) to go ahead and I went ahead.
I distinctly remember crawling through the narrowish tunnel thinking "you know, this is actually OK". But then it opened out quite a bit but became very steep, and perhaps because I went up the wrong side (I didn't have anyone to watch in front me of) and perhaps just due to an ineptness at this kind of thing, I did a kind of spider-in-the-bath climbing and falling routine up the slope, my hands kept slipping in the mud and when I got a handhold on a rock and managed to pull myself up, I'd lose it on the next one. I think I was probably panicking at this point, although there was definitely also an element of having shot my physical effort bolt. I was wheezing like a bastard at this point and I had falled back onto the people behind me a couple of times.
What I mainly recall is the sense of being completely exhausted and it requiring a major effort just to move. I don't know how badly or if I actually panicked in the sense of flailing around or what have you.
The guide came back and first told me to climb up the right hand side and so on. I think that would have been absolutely cool if I hadn't already exhausted myself, and was perhaps a bit calmer, but it didn't help. He then literally gave me a hand up for maybe the remaining 5 or 10 metres (I have no idea), and as it was even with his help it took what felt like a superhuman effort to keep dragging myself upwards. When we got to the top of that steep bit there were a couple of miners waiting on a small wooden platform and I collapsed next to them panting. One of them asked me in Spanish if I was dying and I said yes. (Apparently the miners all speak Quecha among themselves. Our guide said that as the public schools were not good and he left school at 13 or so, his English - which he learned at night school, privately, to be a tour guide - was better than his Spanish.) The guide told me (us, some other people were coming up behind me) to move over like two metres horizontally into this other area for a rest and just doing that was yet another massive effort.
The guide talked to me a bit when we got into the rest area, probably to try to calm me down. I was so out of breath I'd almost rather not have had to reply to him. It's hard to be sure, but especially once he told me there was no more climbing I don't think I was actually disturbed any more, just immensely out of breath. I might have expected the claustrophobic "get me out of here" feelings to burst out, but they didn't, I just wanted to sit down and rest forever. (It wouldn't have done any good. To jump ahead, I still felt knackered and was wheezing terribly - and it can't be panic all that time - for the time it took to finish the tour, go back to the depot to get changed, get the bus back to the hostel and pop down the road to book in at another hostel. That must be at least half an hour and maybe an hour.)
The guide took us slightly out of the way on the way out to see Tio, the miner's god, which was some sort of effigy surrounded by empty bottles. :-) I took very few photos on the whole trip and none after the climbing-and-failing incident, I just didn't have the energy, so I didn't get a picture of this. (My hands were also absolutely filthy and I didn't want to get the camera dirty.)
We then walked out, which seemed to take forever and cover miles, but the other guys I was with kept encouraging me (perhaps a bit unnecessarily, but it's the thought that counts) and I didn't really have much choice.
I lost my bandanna when I went through the falling experience, a shame as it would have been a moderately cool souvenir but no big deal all things considered.
When we got outside I just sat there feeling like I'd swallowed about a ton of dirt and swigging intermittently at my pathetically small and dirty bottle of water, gasping away like there was no tomorrow. As I already said, this didn't wear off until much much later. I might guess half an hour or an hour. (I might compare it with the time I legged it from the underground platforms at Vauxhall up to platform 8 just in time to dive through the door of the second to last train to Kingston. I spent 10-15 minutes sat in the doorway of the carriage panting and not caring if anyone was staring, I was just so exhausted with the effort. The mine thing today was worse, but it was vaguely the same kind of fighting for breath feeling.)
I think in total we were down there for about 90 minutes or two hours. I know it was at least an hour as I took a photo when we were nearly as low as we went and compared the time stamp with the one I took outside and they were nearly an hour apart, even before we turned round.
After we got out, the tour guide blew up some dynamite we had purchased earlier as entertainment. He was clowning around with the lit fuses (they were two minute ones or something) and we all passed the bags with attached lit fuses around. I didn't get a photo taken, but the way I see it I am unlikely to forget anything that happened this morning so I really don't need them, even if they would have been cool. He then planted them somewhere on the hillside and we saw the two fairly impressive explosions. (Once again I took no photos. It took all my strength to walk over to the area where he was doing the detonation.)
I feel a bit embarrassed but on the whole I think it was actually OK. I didn't freak out at the closed spaces particularly and even after the climbing problem I think I was relatively together mentally, just not physically. Of all the problems I expected to have that problem with the climbing was not one of them.
Would I do it again? I really don't know. On the one hand I didn't freak out while things were going OK, but on the other I did feel I was having to keep myself under control, so maybe it wouldn't be OK another time. And maybe the memory of the climbing problem would give me doubts about getting out if I did a similar thing in the future. As I say, I don't know. I am not going down the mines here again, that would just be stupid. I suppose I'll have to weigh things up should I ever be presented with the opportunity to do so elsewhere.
P.S. Did I mention I just felt totally physically exhausted and every movement required a major effort? Oh yes, I did. :-)
First night and last meal in Potosi
We got here about 4pm, pretty much on time. We (I should really say they, as I was naturally sceptical and aloof) were seduced by a tout into going to a hostel different from the one the couple had already booked in. We have a sort of mini apartment with two twin rooms. There is wi-fi here but it's as slow as hell.
Once we got here I realised I had developed a minor case of the shits, to be crude and avoid difficult spelling. Took a couple of tablets and feel OK now but this is not what I need given what's going on. That shook me a bit already.
We went out for a walk round the town and then food earlier. This place is freaking me out. We walked through some market and there were various butchery kind of places. I had already seen a sort of market this morning in Uyuni with people hacking carcases up and that was fine. But this place was a step up, or down depending how you look at it. Some kind of half-dismembered animals hanging up by their windpipes (it's a mixed blessing having chefs in the party I guess), then we passed a stall which had four or five decaptitated cattle heads festering on the floor. We took photos, then were told not to, but no one actually took the cameras off us. I shall upload this delightful image, if it came out, in due course.
Just before that we all booked up for a tour of the mines tomorrow. I had vaguely planned to do this when the Welsh-Australian couple I met in San Pedro told me about it, but when we got here this afternoon Stefan showed me his Lonely Planet guidebook on the subject. Apart from the ethical issues, which quite frankly are a minor factor, the guide seemed extremely keen to hammer home the small but serious risks. This is a working mine, not some museum. As per the guide book, when we signed up they made us sign a disclaimer against injury or death, which also cheerfully pointed out that should there be a cave in we are as much at risk as the miners, and that more miners die from cave ins than any other cause. This sort of thing always reacts badly on my mental make up. The others are all so incredibly calm about it and I know the actual danger is minimal, but it was freaking me out bigtime. I feel a bit better after a pizza and a couple of beers, plus I usually tend to get my worrying out of the way in advance and then feel OKish when push comes to shove. Nonetheless I spent most of the night marvelling that the other three guys apparently find nothing remotely strange about signing disclaimers like that and what have you.
It is a slight comfort to observe that I now have firsthand experience that guide books exaggerate. My "South America on a shoestring" guide claims that the trip from San Pedro to Uyuni via the salt flats requires "a plucky, positive attitude". I would not consider myself abundant in this quality and yet I didn't feel compelled to dig deep inside myself for resources during the trip. Sitting in the back of a car with minimal leg room for 8 hours with intermittent short breaks isn't pleasant, but I don't think it requires much pluck. It also says you shouldn't stay in a salt hotel as they are environmentally unsound (boohoo) and that you should bring "something for the thumping headaches". I didn't even want to take an aspirin or anything. It was like a mild hangover at worst.
And yet if I had read that in the guide before I booked the trip I would have been put off completely. Fingers crossed it's the same with the mine trip.
We had to leg it back to the hostel after the pizza as it turns out it shuts at 11pm. (I was completely unaware of this, as was Stefan, but the other two had seen the sign. They didn't exactly hammer the fact in when we booked the room.) This is absolutely rank. I was planning on moving to a single room here tomorrow but as it is I think I will see if I can find somewhere nearby which doesn't impose these prison-like rules. We got back at 11:05pm or thereabouts and had to bang on the door a bit to get in. I may exaggerate slightly but Susie, who shows no qualms about going down some fucking mine tomorrow, was rather worried about us getting in. I didn't give a toss, I knew someone would turn up for us ten minutes late and push comes to shove we just go somewhere else. Different strokes and all that.
Apart from the general "oh my fucking god"-ness of it, the mine tour means we have to be picked up at the hostel at 8:45am tomorrow morning. Yet another day with an early start. All the more reason to get a single room in a decent hostel for tomorrow night, celebrate still being alive (if I am ;-) ) with a Saturday night quite frankly on the lash and sleep late on Sunday.
Maybe it was nerves but I felt a bit short of breath while we were walking around the town earlier. I think it's altitude mainly and the others report vaguely similar symptoms (although the precise manifestations appear very personal). This is apparently the highest city in the world at (by guide book, not GPS) 4060m.
I really hope Montezuma's revenge is under control as I am likely to shit myself tomorrow anyway without any extra help. I had some medicine already but I popped into a pharmacy to buy some more while we were walking round the town tonight. They sold me some "carbon", but I checked with them it has drugs in and it has some chemical-ly looking name on the packet so I assume it is not just some crappy folk remedy. The other guys bought some stuff too (for different complaints), I gather it is true that you can get just about anything without a prescription here. It occurred to me later on I should maybe have bought myself some kind of tranquiliser for tomorrow, but I figure it's probably best for my self respect to do it unaided, and also it's hardly the situation to start experimenting with random drugs.
Oh, I just checked my shoestring guide re the mine tour. It's not surprising given it's a Lonely Planet guide but it says basically the same as Stefan's guide. Vaguely heartening to note the tour company we are going with comes highly recommended for their professional practices. I have to quote, in the hope that I can at least slightly dispute the claims later, the guide book as saying that the mines are "fairly nightmarish places" and that a visit is "demanding, shocking and memorable". I can handle shocking and memorable but demanding makes me question myself. Anyway, I will do it as a homage to Orwell. :-) Besides, this may be one of those rare situations where being a shortarse has serious benefits. :-)
Once we got here I realised I had developed a minor case of the shits, to be crude and avoid difficult spelling. Took a couple of tablets and feel OK now but this is not what I need given what's going on. That shook me a bit already.
We went out for a walk round the town and then food earlier. This place is freaking me out. We walked through some market and there were various butchery kind of places. I had already seen a sort of market this morning in Uyuni with people hacking carcases up and that was fine. But this place was a step up, or down depending how you look at it. Some kind of half-dismembered animals hanging up by their windpipes (it's a mixed blessing having chefs in the party I guess), then we passed a stall which had four or five decaptitated cattle heads festering on the floor. We took photos, then were told not to, but no one actually took the cameras off us. I shall upload this delightful image, if it came out, in due course.
Just before that we all booked up for a tour of the mines tomorrow. I had vaguely planned to do this when the Welsh-Australian couple I met in San Pedro told me about it, but when we got here this afternoon Stefan showed me his Lonely Planet guidebook on the subject. Apart from the ethical issues, which quite frankly are a minor factor, the guide seemed extremely keen to hammer home the small but serious risks. This is a working mine, not some museum. As per the guide book, when we signed up they made us sign a disclaimer against injury or death, which also cheerfully pointed out that should there be a cave in we are as much at risk as the miners, and that more miners die from cave ins than any other cause. This sort of thing always reacts badly on my mental make up. The others are all so incredibly calm about it and I know the actual danger is minimal, but it was freaking me out bigtime. I feel a bit better after a pizza and a couple of beers, plus I usually tend to get my worrying out of the way in advance and then feel OKish when push comes to shove. Nonetheless I spent most of the night marvelling that the other three guys apparently find nothing remotely strange about signing disclaimers like that and what have you.
It is a slight comfort to observe that I now have firsthand experience that guide books exaggerate. My "South America on a shoestring" guide claims that the trip from San Pedro to Uyuni via the salt flats requires "a plucky, positive attitude". I would not consider myself abundant in this quality and yet I didn't feel compelled to dig deep inside myself for resources during the trip. Sitting in the back of a car with minimal leg room for 8 hours with intermittent short breaks isn't pleasant, but I don't think it requires much pluck. It also says you shouldn't stay in a salt hotel as they are environmentally unsound (boohoo) and that you should bring "something for the thumping headaches". I didn't even want to take an aspirin or anything. It was like a mild hangover at worst.
And yet if I had read that in the guide before I booked the trip I would have been put off completely. Fingers crossed it's the same with the mine trip.
We had to leg it back to the hostel after the pizza as it turns out it shuts at 11pm. (I was completely unaware of this, as was Stefan, but the other two had seen the sign. They didn't exactly hammer the fact in when we booked the room.) This is absolutely rank. I was planning on moving to a single room here tomorrow but as it is I think I will see if I can find somewhere nearby which doesn't impose these prison-like rules. We got back at 11:05pm or thereabouts and had to bang on the door a bit to get in. I may exaggerate slightly but Susie, who shows no qualms about going down some fucking mine tomorrow, was rather worried about us getting in. I didn't give a toss, I knew someone would turn up for us ten minutes late and push comes to shove we just go somewhere else. Different strokes and all that.
Apart from the general "oh my fucking god"-ness of it, the mine tour means we have to be picked up at the hostel at 8:45am tomorrow morning. Yet another day with an early start. All the more reason to get a single room in a decent hostel for tomorrow night, celebrate still being alive (if I am ;-) ) with a Saturday night quite frankly on the lash and sleep late on Sunday.
Maybe it was nerves but I felt a bit short of breath while we were walking around the town earlier. I think it's altitude mainly and the others report vaguely similar symptoms (although the precise manifestations appear very personal). This is apparently the highest city in the world at (by guide book, not GPS) 4060m.
I really hope Montezuma's revenge is under control as I am likely to shit myself tomorrow anyway without any extra help. I had some medicine already but I popped into a pharmacy to buy some more while we were walking round the town tonight. They sold me some "carbon", but I checked with them it has drugs in and it has some chemical-ly looking name on the packet so I assume it is not just some crappy folk remedy. The other guys bought some stuff too (for different complaints), I gather it is true that you can get just about anything without a prescription here. It occurred to me later on I should maybe have bought myself some kind of tranquiliser for tomorrow, but I figure it's probably best for my self respect to do it unaided, and also it's hardly the situation to start experimenting with random drugs.
Oh, I just checked my shoestring guide re the mine tour. It's not surprising given it's a Lonely Planet guide but it says basically the same as Stefan's guide. Vaguely heartening to note the tour company we are going with comes highly recommended for their professional practices. I have to quote, in the hope that I can at least slightly dispute the claims later, the guide book as saying that the mines are "fairly nightmarish places" and that a visit is "demanding, shocking and memorable". I can handle shocking and memorable but demanding makes me question myself. Anyway, I will do it as a homage to Orwell. :-) Besides, this may be one of those rare situations where being a shortarse has serious benefits. :-)
Friday 26 February 2010
Notes from the bus
Friday 10:35. I'm on the bus from Uyuni to Potosi. Bit rudimentary but not too bad, ditto for the roads.
We had breakfast at some cafe this morning as the hostel breakfast was terrible value. Food was OK and only 22 Bolivianos for scrambled egg, orange juice, coffee & bread. I tried to pay with a 50 note and the guy said he had no change. Totally unhelpful, he just sort of stood there. FFS, it's not like I tried to pay with a massively overvalued note. In the end I paid with the 50 for Stefan's as well and ended up giving the surly fucker an undeserved 6 Boliviano tip.
First impressions of Bolivia are that it is distinctly 'un-Western'. I find it odd to see all these old women walking around in shawls and with what look remarkably like bowler hats. I am used to that sort of display of 'traditional' costume being reserved for museums or what have you.
There is something of a third (or maybe second) world feel to the place. This may be sheer prejudice on my part, I have no idea. Chile is clearly a much wealthier and more developed country, though.
First impressions of Uyuni were that it was a tiny shithole, the roads were terrible and flooded and it looked desolate. Once you get into the slightly more central regions of the town it looks a lot better, the roads are properly paved, some of the buildings are quite attractive and it's clearly a town rather than just a few isolated houses. It was market day when we arrived so it was quite cool to see the stalls crammed all over the main street.
There is an old woman (regulation traditional dress, though no hat) sat to my right. She keeps making this weird crooning/yelping sound. She is obviously not totally nuts as she spoke to Stefan earlier about the weather.
Earlier on she kept yelling "Potosi" at someone travelling with her who presumably struggles to remember where they are going.
The rest of the Uyuni trip
Didn't get round to making any more live notes during the trip, so will jot down a few notes now.
Went out to watch the sunset on Tuesday night. Not that impressive but I took a few photos and accidentally left the camera on 'sunset mode' all day Wednesday, which accounts for any pronounced orangeness on some of the photos (not all, fortunately). There was a steady wind and it was a bit cold but OK. While out there I tested my lungs at altitude by treating the desolate hillside to acapella versions of a few of my favourite songs. Surprisingly OK (my handling of the altitude, not the songs).
Dinner was pretty OK, in fact all the meals on the trip were fine, despite my concerns. I guess if it's sufficiently basic my quirks don't have a chance to come into play.
Didn't sleep that well. Each car of 6 people shared a room, sleeping with that many people actually didn't bother me, but the bed was terrible. The sheets just wouldn't stay on, I woke up about 2am and fumbled for my phone, read a book on it under what blankets I could retain and finally managed to fall into a slightly fitful doze. Got up about 6:45.
Wednesday was both interesting and dull.
We went to the Stone Tree, which is a rock that looks vaguely like a tree if you squint at it from the right angle and haven't seen a tree for a few years.
There were a number of other largish rocks nearby and everyone engaged in a little amateur rock climbing. This scared me shitless but was quite entertaining at the same time. I had an excessively vivid picture of losing a handhold or my footing and crashing down, probably bouncing once or twice en route. They weren't particularly high, maybe 10-15m, but there were no 'paths' or anything, it was a bit 'take it as you find it'. Bit tiring but especially given the altitude (I can now say I have rock climbed at 4000m, even if I drove 99% of the way up there) I didn't feel I did too badly.
Later that day we got bogged down crossing some outer part of the 'salt' pan. A guy had got a puncture ahead of us, our driver apparently misinterpreted his gesture as a "don't drive through this bit, drive through that bit" gesture and we got stuck. Another car then came up beside us and got stuck too.
No big deal, a certain amount of pushing and digging and we were out. I half suspected it was a deliberate spot of interest added to the trip, but since the other car-load of people didn't get stuck I guess not. We got to the hostel two hours later than the other group, although we ran behind them the entire trip for some reason, and we were only stuck for about 45 mins according to someone else.
We were staying in a 'salt hotel' at the edge of the Uyuni salt flats. The hotel and most of the furniture was all made out of blocks of salt. The floor was powdered rock salt. Basically, it was made of salt.
We played cards - I think the game was called Shithead, though I am not sure. I did very badly but could have been worse given I had never played before. Deeply embarrassed at my complete inability to shuffle, I will have to take five minutes to learn at some time.
Shared a twin room with the Swiss guy. The roof leaked a bit and they shut the lights off completely at about 9pm, but the bed was fairly comfortable and the sheets stayed on so I managed to sleep OK.
Very long day, a lot of sitting in the car and feeling my legs cramp up.
Thursday was also a lot of driving. We left the hotel and drove for about an hour across the flooded salt flat (apparently the largest in the world) to an island in the middle. Amazing views en route though as the water acted like a mirror.
At the island we climbed up some hill with lots of cactuses, taking a number of the inevitable humorous pictures, then out onto the edge of the salt flat for more pictures exploting the open space for tricks with perspective (people standing on each other's heads, that kind of thing).
We then drove about another 2-3h across the salt flats, getting lost en route (my GPS was helpful, if only as a glorified compass), stopping briefly at an old salt hotel in the middle of the flat (this is no longer permitted, that one is now a museum) then eventually getting to Uyuni at about 5pm.
It was pretty smooth driving across the salt flat, if odd to be driving through water continuously. As soon as we got onto the 'proper' road it was obvious just how smooth it was, the 'proper' road was terrible. We suspect, although I hope it won't be the case, that the road to Potosi tomorrow will be similar.
Oh yes, there was an ostrich on the island in the salt flat. I got what I personally consider some quite cool photos, at one point it wandered up to within a couple of meters of me.
Will give my waffly impressions of Uyuni some other time, it's nearly midnight and I should be moving towards bed.
Doing things on the cheap in Uyuni
As a result of the various delays we got here about 5pm, instead of 3pm as planned and 1pm as some other guy told me his driver had said.
The British-Swedish couple and the Swiss guy were both going on to Potosi, which was more or less what I'd thought I'd do. (I had no really clear plans, until I met the Welsh-Australian couple my first night in San Pedro I was heading up to Arica and onto Peru, then Bolivia afterwards.) They had booked a hostel and were planning to get an 8pm bus to arrive there about 2am, so we arranged that we'd all go together and the Swiss guy and I would call from Uyuni to reserve ourselves a room.
When we got here it turned out there were no available bus seats. (The couple had only reserved the hostel, not the bus.) So we've all booked into a hostel here for the night and we're getting a bus at 10am tomorrow to arrive about 6pm. Great, another day sitting in a vehicle. :-)
I'm sharing a room with the Swiss guy, as at the salt hotel last night. It's 50 Bolivianos each with a private bathroom, or about 5 quid. (The couple are only paying 30 as they have no bathroom.)
We all went out for llama steak and chips earlier (to be completely honest I wouldn't have noticed it wasn't beef if I hadn't known, they said it tasted like pork with the consistency of beef or vice versa, I can't remember - but the couple are both chefs so I assume they know their food) and that was 40 Bolivians each, i.e. 4 quid.
Budget travel baby. :-)
P.S. 3600m here. And on an unrelated note, as I write this it has just started to absolutely piss it down.
P.P.S. No beers today, they were all too tired or whatever. So although there was a bit of wine last night and a mouthful of Mango Sour the Swiss guy had earlier, I have been nearly teetotal since my last night in San Pedro. Gotta have a beer tomorrow night come what may!
P.P.P.S Names to nationalities. :-) The couple are Bobby and Susie, the Swiss guy is Stefan.
Notes from the Uyuni trip 1
Tuesday 23rd, 7:30am. Waiting outside hostel to be picked up. Didn't want to get up but was aided by a massively full bladder and the need to get dressed before I could go out to the toilet.
No water at all in either bathroom. Not even cold. I had to waste valuable drinking water. The only minor satisfaction is that I had a shit before I found out. :-) I doubt they care much, you are not supposed to flush the toilet paper and the bin next to the bog is overflowing onto the floor, so what's a bit of stuff floating in the pan?
Intermittent cock-crows as I wait outside in broad daylight. I noticed this yesterday and probably before, but clearly that crowing at dawn thing is only vacuously true in that the things crow continuously.
4:40pm. Only just found out it's an hour earlier here than in Chile.
All going pretty well, we're done for the day except dinner. In that sense arguably a bit dull. Sunset is, I believe, in a couple of hours so if that doesn't clash with dinner that's cool.
No idea where we are in named terms, but my GPS says 22.27384S, 67.82062W. It says it's only 2448m above sea level here, although our driver says it is over 4000m. I genuinely don't know who to believe.
(Hmm, just done it again after leaving it on longer and it now says 22.26454S, 67.81614W, elevation 4357m.)
There are twelve of us on the tour, all are native English speakers (English, Scottish, Northern Irish, Canadian, New Zealander) or fluent in English (the other English guy, originally from Newcastle but like me having lived in London for about 12 years, is here with his Swedish (I think) girlfriend, and we have a Swiss guy and a French woman along too).
Minibus transfer across the Bolivan border. Leaving Chile required queuing for a passport stamp and to hand in the immigration paper. Entering Bolivia (half an hour's drive later) involved the usual immigration fom and entry stamp but was pretty quick. Picture of president Morales on the wall in the shack which was the border control post.
Perhaps at a naff rate they helpfully provide money changing facilities right in the border post. After you get your passport stamped you hand Chilean pesos over to the guy sat next to him and he gives you Bolivianos. I changed CLP40,000 for <whatever the Bolivian currency code is>400. I don't need it yet and in fact there is nowhere to spend it if I wanted, but it always seem a good idea to have some local currency to hand.
We then split into two groups of six to go in a couple of slightly ratty four wheel drive vehicles. This seems to form a natural split, the two groups don't travel exactly together, although we do the same things.
Some fairly impressive scenery, including a couple of places with flamingos, the latter having impressivelyred water due apparently to minerals.
The 'place we are staying' (it is too basic to be called a hostel) seems OK if basic. We have two rooms, one for each group of six plus their driver.
Lunch OK if basic - a fried egg, a small sausage, mashed potato, cucumber and tomato.
No real problems with the altitude, whatever it is here or elsewhere. According to the driver one pass we went over was about 4900m asl. Slight headache which I assume is altitude related and a very occasional tendency to feel short of breath while talking and walking.
Skies very cloudy, which is a shame as I bet there's next to no stray light here. Maybe we will be lucky tomorrow at the hotel at the salt pan.
No toilet paper provided here, fortunately I had been lugging a roll around since leaving the UK. Sadly, that means nothing I've brought has been total dead weight and able to be omitted on a future trip. I used the towels in the hostel in San Pedro and at the baths today (I did go in, quite pleasant) and as I say the toilet paper came in too.
I opened my suitcase to get the TP out and put it in my backpack just as we were transferring over to the 4WDs. The sheer quantity of books excited a certain amount of hilarity. I had the last laugh though as the roll of duck tape I have been carrying with me also came in useful, to mend someone's backpack and to plug up holes in the vehicle where dust comes in. Kidneys mate. :-)
Bit of trouble getting back to the hostel last night. The road nearby is unlit and the first two times I started to walk down a dog started barking madly and scared me into trying to find another route. No success, and on the third attempt to get up that road I managed it with only minor canine audible interference.
Very impressive stars that night, which I did see better as a result of the dog forcing me to walk back in the opposite direction. Still, I'd rather it had kept quiet to start with.
Tuesday 23 February 2010
Further tedious observations
On the drive back into San Pedro this morning I observed my ears popping as we presumably came down to a certain level. A bit freaky on a land journey.
At about the same time there was an amazing panorama in front of the minibus. I didn't take any photos - we were moving, and you can't easily photograph that sort of thing - but the sheer scale of the thing was impressive. The fact that we were winding down some mountain road also gave what I can only describe as a 'parallax scrolling' effect which was quite cool.
Monday 22 February 2010
Got my laundry!
I know it sounds so trivial but I am chuffed. After failing to learn from the Australian couple's identical dilemma, I hope I will at least learn from my own direct experience. In future I will hand-wash no matter how manky my clothes are if there's going to be any urgency to collect them from the laundry.
A final beer to celebrate then back to the hostel to pack and be ready to leave at 7:30am.
The tour guy 'promised' there was no need to book a hostel in Uyuni for Thursday night. Fingers crossed he's right! We are due to get there about 3pm so at least there is time to run around if necessary.
Random observation - you occasionally see enormous dragonflies (or something which from a distance looks like one) flying down the street here. Quite cool, although I never saw one staying still to get a good look. And the streets are littered in places with dried bean pod things, which look like something familiar and edible and probably drop off some trees. The local version of oranges in Seville, and probably less messy. :-)
No idea how many people are on the trip tomorrow. I think there will be a couple of youngish Canadian guys as they turned up to book just as I was paying.
Chatted to a few of the Chileans in a mix of Spanish and English on the tour this morning, all things considered it went pretty well ignoring the 35 minute plus delay in being picked up. Mostly with two brothers, one of whose appearance reminded me inescapably of Max in Phoenix Nights.
DVDs
The woman redid them and said (and I did sort of see her do it) she flicked through every single photo. I checked the new disc myself when I got it and sure enough there was corruption. She said she thought it was the DVD drive on the PC I was using. It wasn't 100% convincing when she showed me the same photos on her PC from the disc, but it was 95% convincing. So I have posted that disc and yesterday's off and will erase those two SD cards tonight so I have them free for the Uyuni trip.
Just went to try to pick up my laundry. They said 8pm. Still a bit jittery but am generally inclined to believe them. We shall see...
I'm a weak willed fool
Finished the museum. Moderately interesting but nothing to do with the lost cash etc I don't think it would ever have totally gripped me.
Back at the double-charging bar for a beer before I go mess around getting a haircut and trying to find something to eat (to be frank, I'm not hungry half the time, eating is in some sense becoming a chore, but especially with that trip tomorrow I must eat well today) and pick up my laundry. There are few bars here, mostly it's restaurants, and to be honest although it rankles, paying double here is probably about the same as having the same drink in a restuarant/bar and paying once. Plus they do draught lager here, so I can have a satisfying half-litre (not as satisfying as a pint, of course) instead of an insubstantial 330ml bottle.
At the museum and not enjoying it
I think I lost a CLP20,000 note, worth £25. I have no idea how nor can I be completely certain but I am fairly sure. It is hot as hell. I want to get my hair cut but I have a cut on my head from the minibus door earlier which may be problematic. They don't open til 4:30pm after taking a couple of years for lunch, if they can be bothered. (They weren't open yesterday when they should have been.) I am walking around with my pockets jammed uncomfortably full of crap, especially prominent among which is the 2x4 the hostel sees fit to attach to the keys. I have to pick my laundry up at 7pm and I am fairly sure they are going to say it's not ready.
So to be honest I'm not really paying much attention to the exhibits.
Losing my photos
Yesterday I got some photos put onto DVDs and deleted the originals. As far as I could tell from my spot checks, the discs were fine, as they may be.
I came back to the same place again to get some more done. Both DVDs had a few files corrupted (different files on each). So the other discs are probably corrupt in places as well. It's sheer chance that I noticed this time. I am asking them to redo the discs for today, but unless I sit here and click through every file on every disc I have little confidence any more. I guess I will just have to take a chance that every file appears correctly on at least one of the discs and that both discs make it back to the UK. (I am having two copies made of each with the intention of posting one copy home and keeping the other with me.)
Maybe I will just find another internet cafe and get them to do the transfer onto a third disc afterwards so I have an additional copy. Sigh. Why does it have to be so complex? What crazy software error (I fail to see how I can be human error on the part of the woman in the shop here) could screw up something so commonplace?
If I'd been smarter I would have shelled out for a couple of 64GB USB thumb drives before I left the UK. That would have held all my photos for the entire trip, I think (I'm at around 10-12GB after about a quarter of the trip) allowing me to free up my SD cards for new photos, and I'd then only have been relying on DVD copies for posting back to the UK in case I got mugged or lost my luggage. Hindsight again.
I came back to the same place again to get some more done. Both DVDs had a few files corrupted (different files on each). So the other discs are probably corrupt in places as well. It's sheer chance that I noticed this time. I am asking them to redo the discs for today, but unless I sit here and click through every file on every disc I have little confidence any more. I guess I will just have to take a chance that every file appears correctly on at least one of the discs and that both discs make it back to the UK. (I am having two copies made of each with the intention of posting one copy home and keeping the other with me.)
Maybe I will just find another internet cafe and get them to do the transfer onto a third disc afterwards so I have an additional copy. Sigh. Why does it have to be so complex? What crazy software error (I fail to see how I can be human error on the part of the woman in the shop here) could screw up something so commonplace?
If I'd been smarter I would have shelled out for a couple of 64GB USB thumb drives before I left the UK. That would have held all my photos for the entire trip, I think (I'm at around 10-12GB after about a quarter of the trip) allowing me to free up my SD cards for new photos, and I'd then only have been relying on DVD copies for posting back to the UK in case I got mugged or lost my luggage. Hindsight again.
El Tatio geysers
Apart from the delayed start, the tour was pretty good. The drive up there in the dark on some rather dodgy looking roads was sort of an experience in itself. We got there in time for sunrise and it was all very impressive, lots of hot water and steam hissing out of the ground. (You go that early in the morning as the temperature is lowest then, so there's more vapour produced and hence it's more impressive.) I took some pictures which I doubt I will ever be able to upload due to poor internet access and which I doubt capture the experience at all. Still, I will put them up anyway if I can.
As a result of the sulphur in the water, the vapour (which you can feel and inhale 'safely' at some of the geysers) has a sort of "boiling eggs" smell. It was quite pleasant in a strange way, certainly not the "rotten eggs" smell I might have naively expected. I put 'safely' in quotes as apparently the sulphur isn't great for your lungs, but I guess the quantities involved and the timescales make it effectively OK.
The guide was very keen to tell people to stick to the path. Apparently 5 people have died (over admittedly some large period of years) by stepping where the crust wasn't solid and getting badly burned. The guide seemed to enjoy telling us that if you get burnt over more than 50% of your body, you are two hours from the nearest hospital and all that they can do is give you morphine to reduce the pain while you take two or three months to die.
Apart from me, the tour was split between a group of Italians and some Chileans. I did OK with the Spanish, although the guide (Dutch, but born in France) spoke six languages including English, so when there were no other Spanish speakers around she spoke to me in English.
I didn't try the thermal baths. There were no lockers (yeah, maybe you would expect that, but I had no idea) and since I had my passport with me that was an absolute killer. Plus it was a choice between than and taking a look at some other geysers, and I would have missed some of the more impressive ones if I had done the thermal bath thing.
El Tatio is at about 4300m above sea level (compared to 2500m here in San Pedro de Atacama). I didn't realise this until the guide warned us to walk around slowly when we got there. I was OK, which surprised me, although there were a couple of points where I was walking along and talking and found myself a bit short of breath. This makes me feel a bit more comfortable about the Uyuni trip, which I just booked for, as that involves some similar altitudes. Everyone on the trip seemed OK, except one poor woman who felt a bit ill and spent the entire trip sat in the bus. I don't know just how bad she was, but if she was actually suffering rather than just short of breath it must have been hell being stuck up there instead of being able to go straight back down. She seemed OK-ish if quiet in the bus though, so I guess she was probably not that bad.
And I will get to try the thermal bath thing on the Uyuni trip tomorrow anyway. Hopefully with fewer people around to be embarassed in front of. :-)
As a result of the sulphur in the water, the vapour (which you can feel and inhale 'safely' at some of the geysers) has a sort of "boiling eggs" smell. It was quite pleasant in a strange way, certainly not the "rotten eggs" smell I might have naively expected. I put 'safely' in quotes as apparently the sulphur isn't great for your lungs, but I guess the quantities involved and the timescales make it effectively OK.
The guide was very keen to tell people to stick to the path. Apparently 5 people have died (over admittedly some large period of years) by stepping where the crust wasn't solid and getting badly burned. The guide seemed to enjoy telling us that if you get burnt over more than 50% of your body, you are two hours from the nearest hospital and all that they can do is give you morphine to reduce the pain while you take two or three months to die.
Apart from me, the tour was split between a group of Italians and some Chileans. I did OK with the Spanish, although the guide (Dutch, but born in France) spoke six languages including English, so when there were no other Spanish speakers around she spoke to me in English.
I didn't try the thermal baths. There were no lockers (yeah, maybe you would expect that, but I had no idea) and since I had my passport with me that was an absolute killer. Plus it was a choice between than and taking a look at some other geysers, and I would have missed some of the more impressive ones if I had done the thermal bath thing.
El Tatio is at about 4300m above sea level (compared to 2500m here in San Pedro de Atacama). I didn't realise this until the guide warned us to walk around slowly when we got there. I was OK, which surprised me, although there were a couple of points where I was walking along and talking and found myself a bit short of breath. This makes me feel a bit more comfortable about the Uyuni trip, which I just booked for, as that involves some similar altitudes. Everyone on the trip seemed OK, except one poor woman who felt a bit ill and spent the entire trip sat in the bus. I don't know just how bad she was, but if she was actually suffering rather than just short of breath it must have been hell being stuck up there instead of being able to go straight back down. She seemed OK-ish if quiet in the bus though, so I guess she was probably not that bad.
And I will get to try the thermal bath thing on the Uyuni trip tomorrow anyway. Hopefully with fewer people around to be embarassed in front of. :-)
Yet more crap in San Pedro de Atacama
It's 5am. The German couple were picked up about 4:15 by their bus. At about 4:35 a couple of women sat on the kerb down the street were picked up. I'm stood here like a lemon at 5. At this rate I won't see El Tatio, this is the last possible day unless I extend my time here and to be honest I am somewhat disinclined to do that.
I guess I will wait out here as long as I can stick it on the offchance, then go complain and if I'm lucky get my money back (wow, I could have had my money just by staying at home in the first place) once we reach normal business hours.
PS They turned up at about 5:05. I am now here, my right leg aches from the bus somehow but WTF...
Going to bed at 3am is one thing, getting up is another
It's 4am. Got up at 3:30 and now waiting outside. Creepy in the hostel courtyard at that time with no one around. Waiting outside with a German couple now, although I doubt they're on my tour as there are just so many companies.
Naturally a bit dubious I will get picked up OK but I guess I've done everything I can.
A small beetle practically fell out of the sky when I first came out here and gave me a bit of a start. Dogs barking a little manically and one ran down the street just as I came out.
I have this horrible feeling my hostel is too obscure and they won't be able to find it to pick me up. I didn't give the address on the form as no one else had. I asked the woman behind the desk and she said she knew my hostel (Hostal Cabur, I don't know why I'm being cagey about it) but I never trust people.
Oh well, fingers crossed.
And so to bed
9:20pm and I need to be up about 3am to get ready. Should be OK. Courtyard at hostel quietly bustling, lots of chat but shouldn't keep me awake. They have a fire too, which seems slightly unnecessary but picturesque. Feel a bit of a sad loner not being out there talking with people, but even if I knew how that could be brought about I have no time anyway. With luck the trip to the-place-in-Bolivia-I-am-unable-to-remember-the-name-of, which I do plan to book tomorrow, will lead to meeting people. And all things considered I've not done too badly with my chance encounters so far.
Suspect I won't be able to get to sleep in the near future anyway but I have to at least try. Goodnight. :-)
Suspect I won't be able to get to sleep in the near future anyway but I have to at least try. Goodnight. :-)
Sunday 21 February 2010
Feeling crap
Physically that is. I just dined sumptuously - perhaps over-sumptuously - on steak, chips, rice and a fried egg. My gut feels so heavy it could undergo gravitational collapse. It's damn hot. I am having a cold beer - one of two at most, given my stupidly early start tomorrow - but I am too bloated to enjoy it.
There are a lot of flies, at least there were while I was eating in the restuarant courtyard under some kind of awning. Their absence is the sole comfort I have derived from coming into this bar.
OK, half an hour later I went to the bog and left. Nice and cool outside, unlike inside the bar. As I left the woman from behind the bar came out and asked if I'd paid. I said I had. She clearly didn't believe me and I couldn't prove it. I said I'd pay again, and did. WTF, if she's so desperate she needs to resort to scams for less than two quid, fuck her.
I do know I paid earlier as I remember her giving me 5 massive CLP100 coins in change instead of the CLP500 coin I expected.
Can it be coincidence I've been ripped off twice in this town and nowhere else in Chile? It's a good job I'm leaving on Tuesday as otherwise I will have a grudge against every bar in town. :-)
Back at the place where I had dinner for a last beer. It's a bit too late but fuck it. They have a massive outdoor courtyard and have lit two big fires in the middle of it. This looks impressive but makes half the tables unusable as they are unbearably hot.
RE: Pulling it back together
I am quite honestly impressed about the caving... when you said that it wasn't squeexing through crevices I thought, "Geez, Steve, when you go on a cave tour you just walk around in a big group in really big caves".. but you saying that it was predominantly on "all fours"... i am quite impressed. I'm sure i've done that when I was a kid (like not part of a group, but just what kids do on a near-deserted island) - but to think about actually going *caving* like you see freaks do on the telly with all the mining equipment on - i mean it doesn't freak me out - it just seems far too outgoing and shit for me. Sandboarding... yeah i can see myself having a go - well *thinking* that I should have a go and then realising that it's a bit pricey and using that as an excuse not to put myself at risk of making a tit of myself and then not doing it at all.
I'm worried that you're going to come back with long matted blond hilighted hair and "torrrtally torrrrk like therrrs deewd". Well I think you'd have to get implants for that anyway (*hair* implants i mean, I don't want to see you as some weird sheman or anything) -0 either that or you would have a cue. I think you've already proved yourself a coolness riser, and already far cooler than me.
Rab
-----Original Message-----
From: derived from envelope by postmaster@mail.o2.co.uk [mailto:steven@lemma.co.uk]
Sent: 21 February 2010 02:42
To: Blog; Rab Hallett
Subject: Pulling it back together
Went back to the hotel, sulked in my monk-like cell with no bathroom, then waited for what seemed like ages in the entrance hall for the tour. There's no reception here and the staff just drift around and to be honest I don't really recognise them yet, so I couldn't ask what was happening. About half an hour or more late some guy turned up at the door, said 'are you Steve?' and we went off. I had horrible visions they'd been waiting for ages for me, but I found out later the whole tour was running late and they weren't.
To start with I was just so hacked off I couldn't enjoy it. I was thinking that I need to go to El Tatio geyser as well and the tours leave at 4am and so I can't do it tomorrow now because it's too late. And on top of that, although it's Immature or whatever, I was in just such an arsey mood.
As I was sullenly staring at the cordillera de sal (something like that) this woman asked me something in Spanish, probably did I want a picture taken. I replied in very very bad Spanish and she realised I was English (turned out she was Brazilian with a real gift for languages) and we spoke in English and I felt so pathetic for showing so little linguistic ability.
Then when we got off at the next place (Death Valley) this obviously native english speaking chap spoke to me. Turned out he was Welsh but had lived in Australia for about 26 years and was here with his Australian wife, although he'd done a tiny bit of this tour on his own back in '94.
We sort of hooked up as a little subgroup and talking with them really helped me snap out of feeling like such a pathetic loser. We came out to a restaurant together afterwards and they've just left, they are off to Bolivia tomorrow. They have recommended a tour and I may go and investigate tomorrow, it's a different route to La Paz and Lake Titicaca that might work nicely for me. It also helped that they speak no Spanish whatsoever, but the Welsh-Australian guy in particular is just so outgoing he speaks to people in English and gets away with it. I slightly assisted them as translator in recovering some overdue laundry they needed to pick up ready for tomorrow.
Really nice guys and as I say I think that meeting them has snapped me out of my mood (I told them as much) whereas I had expected to try to extricate myself via sullen intake of liquid depressants and a half decent night's sleep.
Plan for tomorrow is to get up not too late (they say the bars here shut at midnight, unlike the rest of Chile, I am here in the restaurant on my own having a last couple after they left), go investigate that Bolivia trip, arrange a 4am trip to El Tatio for the day after and maybe also see if I can book up for sandboarding.
As we walked through death valley there was a sandboarding party on the top of some dune. It looks doable actually. Don't get me wrong, I'm sure I can't sandboard. But it doesn't look so intimidatingly cool and mystical as I'd imagined. Unlike activities like skiing, snowboarding and surfing, it looks like something you do with minimal equipment and without having to be a cool sort of person. So it would be nice to do it as a kind of 'fuck you' to my feelings earlier today. No doubt I will break my neck or twist my ankle, but if I can ask at the hostel about the trip they do and they say no experience is necessary I may have a go.
Despite my improved mood, nothing on the trip was absolutely stunning. Sunset at Valle de la Luna was OK but not that spectacular.
Earlier on we went through some cave which was stretching my comfort zone just a bit. It was not 'squeeze your body through this narrow crevice in the dark' spelunking, but it was a bit of an 'all four limbs' trip through some fairly narrow areas and I am stupidly a little chuffed with myself for doing it without freaking out.
The Australian couple (he's about 50, she's about 40) are taking a year out to travel round South America, Europe and Africa. So once again I am trumped with my measly five month trip. :-)
Random aside
Speaking with the Australian couple last night, the subject of food came up. I was explaining my personal quirks and was interrupted in uttering the sentence "I just basically have a problem with..." by the woman saying 'sauces'. Apparently the guy's sister is exactly like me. I wonder if she's single. :-) Maybe fate will bring us together.
Flip-flopping on the issues
I slept OK and woke up about midday. I came out to get some laundry done, investigate that tour to Uyuni in Bolivia etc. It sounds slightly too hardcore for me but I am quite tempted.
I have booked up for a tour to El Tatio geyser and god knows how many other places tomorrow, they pick me up at the hostel at 4am and we get back at midday. There is a trip to some thermal baths but I think I will stand aside for that. There is a chance to do that on the Uyuni trip anyway, and more practically I don't want to leave my passport in the hostel tomorrow or leave it with my clothes while I go into the baths.
I think I'm backing out on the sandboarding. I actually still kind of want to do it, but (there was no one to ask at the hostel) of the two companies I found offering it, one has a problem with their vehicle (if I understood correctly) and can't do it til Wednesday, and the other does a trip at 4pm, no experience necessary, to sandboard where I saw it yesterday at Death Valley, followed by a visit to Valle de la Luna to see the sunset.
I really don't want to be getting back about 8 or 9pm without having had anything to eat tonight with a 4am start the next day. And similarly, if (as I probably will) I do the trip to Uyuni, I will have a 7:30am start the next day, which is perhaps quite a strenuous one, and will want to pack the night before, which makes doing it tomorrow a bad idea..
I also don't wany any minor injuries occuring right now. So I think I'm going to have to back out on sandboarding. I think it now has to go on the vague 'list of things to try' and if I get a chance anywhere else I will have to take it.
Oh, if I do do the Uyuni trip, I may have made precisely the same 'mistake' of handing in my laundry to be collected the night before the trip as the Australian couple. Fingers crossed. I need to collect it at 7pm, this is another argument against the sandboarding tomorrow as I wouldn't be back by then. I cannot believe I was so dumb as not to learn from their mistake.
PS The tour guy gave me and two Chileans a sort of briefing/outline of the trip. He speaks fluent English and helped me out with the odd word, but I was chuffed to understand most of it. Oh, and I asked about spiders, which raised a laugh, and apparently there are none. In fact there are no insects either most of the way - there are a lot of salt pans and that kind of thing. I can probably handle anything as long as no spiders are involved. :-)
Back at the hostel
I had to ask directions about four times but I GOT BACK (some quirk caused my phone to capitalise that and I felt I'd keep the emphasis) OK. The second guy I asked sort of helped and suggested I ask the police, I don't know if he was joking or mocking, but as it happened I did on the third occasion. That helped but I still found myself a bit lost, I asked a woman walking down the street who was pleasant but no help but I plucked up my courage and struck out in what turned out to be the correct direction after all.
Perhaps fortunately the wild nightlife here implied by some websites is a fiction. There are two groups in the courtyard, a couple (in the purest sense for all I know) talking peacefully and a few guys sat quietly round a laptop. I cleaned my teeth and guess I should go to bed. Fingers crossed for both getting up early and encountering hotel staff tomorrow to ask about the sandboarding trip, and if they can also sort me out with a trip to the geysers it will ease the pain of the 4am start (which is apparently done as they smoke more impressively around dawn) if I can be picked up at the hostel.
So many uncertainties but they are problems for tomorrow. Well, today, but only just.
I passed a few pseudo-open looking bars on the way home, it might have been interesting to try to get a beer in one but I was not really in the market.
Despite my success at navigating home tonight (down streets which were oddly lit at intervals, with darkish stretches in between), if I do have another night out here (and the 4am geyser trip may mean I don't) I will definitely take the GPS out for reassurance.
Breaking the law
Cue Judas Priest. :-)
I am finishing up but a waiter just brought me some bread and a knife. I said I wasn't eating and hadn't ordered anything, but (I didn't catch the complete sentence) he said it was 'for the police'. So maybe there is something in the tale the Australian couple told me about bars shutting at midnight here. Presumably diners are exempt to some extent. Why this place should be so different from the rest of Chile, where you can drink openly til 5am until the law strikes you firmly down (and incidentally, for one with my inclinations, means there is no reason to go to a club when you can drink in a pleasant bar til the same hour), I have no idea and neither did they, but such is life.
Clearly they don't shut at midnight
I ordered a beer and the bill a few minutes ago and was cheerfully served with both. At CLP1,900 for a can of beer it ain't cheap, but it's where I was with the Australian couple so needs must.
Slightly dubious about my ability to navigate back to the hotel but I am sure it will be fine. I should have brought my GPS out, given I have a coat with me and could easily have stashed it in a pocket, but hindsight is 20-20 (or 6-6, as we say in metric).
Although I am absolutely certain I was supposed to take my key out with me (after all, there is no reception to hand it in at, plus I was indirectly told the same earlier) it is nevertheless mated to a substantial chunk of wood, as typically employed by hotels to ensure it's more convenient for you to hand it in than take it out with you. Still, the streets here are rather underlit (this is a small town, a sign earlier said the 2002 census showed a population of under 2000 people, though doubtless it has grown on the tourism and mescaline industries since), and I may find it handy to have a two-by-four to fend off attackers, be they canine or human. ;-)
Maybe I should try to just get blind drunk and rely on my beer scooter. :-)
Pulling it back together
Went back to the hotel, sulked in my monk-like cell with no bathroom, then waited for what seemed like ages in the entrance hall for the tour. There's no reception here and the staff just drift around and to be honest I don't really recognise them yet, so I couldn't ask what was happening. About half an hour or more late some guy turned up at the door, said 'are you Steve?' and we went off. I had horrible visions they'd been waiting for ages for me, but I found out later the whole tour was running late and they weren't.
To start with I was just so hacked off I couldn't enjoy it. I was thinking that I need to go to El Tatio geyser as well and the tours leave at 4am and so I can't do it tomorrow now because it's too late. And on top of that, although it's Immature or whatever, I was in just such an arsey mood.
As I was sullenly staring at the cordillera de sal (something like that) this woman asked me something in Spanish, probably did I want a picture taken. I replied in very very bad Spanish and she realised I was English (turned out she was Brazilian with a real gift for languages) and we spoke in English and I felt so pathetic for showing so little linguistic ability.
Then when we got off at the next place (Death Valley) this obviously native english speaking chap spoke to me. Turned out he was Welsh but had lived in Australia for about 26 years and was here with his Australian wife, although he'd done a tiny bit of this tour on his own back in '94.
We sort of hooked up as a little subgroup and talking with them really helped me snap out of feeling like such a pathetic loser. We came out to a restaurant together afterwards and they've just left, they are off to Bolivia tomorrow. They have recommended a tour and I may go and investigate tomorrow, it's a different route to La Paz and Lake Titicaca that might work nicely for me. It also helped that they speak no Spanish whatsoever, but the Welsh-Australian guy in particular is just so outgoing he speaks to people in English and gets away with it. I slightly assisted them as translator in recovering some overdue laundry they needed to pick up ready for tomorrow.
Really nice guys and as I say I think that meeting them has snapped me out of my mood (I told them as much) whereas I had expected to try to extricate myself via sullen intake of liquid depressants and a half decent night's sleep.
Plan for tomorrow is to get up not too late (they say the bars here shut at midnight, unlike the rest of Chile, I am here in the restaurant on my own having a last couple after they left), go investigate that Bolivia trip, arrange a 4am trip to El Tatio for the day after and maybe also see if I can book up for sandboarding.
As we walked through death valley there was a sandboarding party on the top of some dune. It looks doable actually. Don't get me wrong, I'm sure I can't sandboard. But it doesn't look so intimidatingly cool and mystical as I'd imagined. Unlike activities like skiing, snowboarding and surfing, it looks like something you do with minimal equipment and without having to be a cool sort of person. So it would be nice to do it as a kind of 'fuck you' to my feelings earlier today. No doubt I will break my neck or twist my ankle, but if I can ask at the hostel about the trip they do and they say no experience is necessary I may have a go.
Despite my improved mood, nothing on the trip was absolutely stunning. Sunset at Valle de la Luna was OK but not that spectacular.
Earlier on we went through some cave which was stretching my comfort zone just a bit. It was not 'squeeze your body through this narrow crevice in the dark' spelunking, but it was a bit of an 'all four limbs' trip through some fairly narrow areas and I am stupidly a little chuffed with myself for doing it without freaking out.
The Australian couple (he's about 50, she's about 40) are taking a year out to travel round South America, Europe and Africa. So once again I am trumped with my measly five month trip. :-)
Saturday 20 February 2010
The robbing gits
Just had a hamburger and a few diet cokes. Bill CLP6,000. I gave them CLP10,000 and they gave me CLP2,200 in change. Unless my rage is imparing my arithmetic, that's a 30% non-optional service charge. I damn near left the CLP200 in change as well, until I realised I was already being badly stung.
I had to negotiate to get the hamburger without mayonnaise and avocado. Hell, why not chuck a bit of sour cream and a few dried spiders on while you're at it?
I did it all in Spanish though and I didn't think I was particularly rude, in fact I'm damn sure I wasn't. I can see no justification for them taking the piss so massively. A small 'tourist tax' is one thing but there are limits, and sharply denned ones at that.
My cup of joy runneth over
On some mad whim just had a look at Wikitravel. I hope this is some fuckwit editor´s idea of a joke:
"Be warned. Some residents don't take kindly to their town being taken over with tourists and will spike your drink with mescaline out of spite. If this happens just keep calm and wait for the drug to wear off. Keep warm and eat sugary foods if possible. The best prevention is to be respectful and not leave your drink unattended."
Just how much worse can it get?
P.S. My guide book hints at this being a good place to acclimatise to altitude prior to going on to do young, healthy things at higher altitudes. It´s 2500m above sea level, if memory serves. I don´t feel physically impaired (dragging the suitcase around was hard, but I reckon it was the sand clogging the wheels up) but I can´t help wondering if that has something to do with my mood. Probably not, I think I´m just a miserable old git.
"Be warned. Some residents don't take kindly to their town being taken over with tourists and will spike your drink with mescaline out of spite. If this happens just keep calm and wait for the drug to wear off. Keep warm and eat sugary foods if possible. The best prevention is to be respectful and not leave your drink unattended."
Just how much worse can it get?
P.S. My guide book hints at this being a good place to acclimatise to altitude prior to going on to do young, healthy things at higher altitudes. It´s 2500m above sea level, if memory serves. I don´t feel physically impaired (dragging the suitcase around was hard, but I reckon it was the sand clogging the wheels up) but I can´t help wondering if that has something to do with my mood. Probably not, I think I´m just a miserable old git.
Fear and loathing in San Pedro de Atacama
Je ne suis pas un lapin heureux...
The bus got here about 9:40am. It´s hot as hell (and I´m wearing a jacket, because I didn´t want to pack the thing, at least it keeps the sun off my arms), the streets are covered in dust and rocks and I spent an hour (by the clock) dragging my suitcase up and down (I need an offroad suitcase, this one doesn´t have sufficient ground clearance for the streets here) the main street trying to find the "centrally located, 5 minutes from the bus station" hostel according to some pathetic directions I had copied from their web site. Eventually a guy asked if I needed a taxi and I paid CLP4,000 with tip. He had to stop three (or was it four?) times and ask directions to find it. (While the directions on the web were complete bollocks, to be fair, it probably is 5 minutes walk from the bus station if you know where it is. Next time I am going to dig up GPS coordinates for my hotel/hostel on Google Maps before I set out. Assuming you can do that on Google Maps. Which you probably can´t.)
Then when I got to the hostel, they had no trace of my "confirmed booking" via hostelworld.com, the first and possibly the last time I have used the site. (I came here to the internet cafe primarily to blow off a little steam by sending them a strongly-worded e-mail. I hear pissing in the wind helps too.) Fortunately they had a room free anyway. It´s shared bathroom here (I knew that anyway), the place has a very young backpacker feel and I don´t feel very much like I´m going to fit in. I can see myself slinking in at 3 or 4am after a few beers trying not to attract attention from everyone partying in the courtyard.
Oh, and the "free internet" at the hostel turns out to be a laptop in some room off the main courtyard with a 3G dongle attached to it. No wi-fi. To be fair, this is "free internet" as described on the web site, I was just hoping for wi-fi. I have come down to an internet cafe in the centre, I can´t sit there using some crappy laptop and no doubt blocking everyone else from using it. At least here there´s more than one PC and I´m paying to use the service so I feel entitled to stay as long as I want. Also, looking on the bright side, they actually advertise the ability to put photos from USB stick or SD card onto DVD here, so this may finally be my chance to clear some space on my SD cards. Good job too, since I can´t upload any photos while I´m here.
To give the staff at the hostel credit, the woman showing me round did say I could use the dongle on my laptop. I´m sure that would make me really popular too. And besides, what are the chances of it working on my Linux netbook? Maybe not nonexistent, but I´m wouldn´t hold my breath, even if I were going to try it, which I´m not. (For that matter, what are the chances of it working on a random Windows laptop? I would have assumed you'd need to install drivers anyway.)
And of course I have to do god knows how many bloody tours to places of interest from here. I´m sick of all this "unmissable" stuff. I am already booked on one (via the hostel) for 4pm this afternoon to go to Valle de la Luna or something like that. That, according to my guide book (which I now hate with a passion, it completely failed to include my hostel´s street on its map), is *the* obligatory trip from here. The woman at the hostel mentioned something about a trip to some lake with a high salt concentration, but I can´t see myself going there as it would naturally involve going into the water (I won´t say "swimming", the woman pointed out how you float very well, presumably Dead Sea-style) and I ain´t doing that, especially not with a massive group of 20-something-year olds.
I also saw something about a sandboarding trip, which obviously I can´t do but knowing that kind of option exists just makes me feel even more than I´m not having as much fun as I ought to be.
Massive amounts of swearing out loud in English as I tried to find the hostel. I probably looked like the drunk/mentally impaired people you sometimes encounter on the streets in London. I ate yesterday at about 7pm but I wonder if lack of food is somehow responsible for my extremely bad mood. (I bought an ice lolly and a big bottle of regular coke while wandering around, partly to see if the sugar would help and partly as a pretext to ask for directions. Neither the food nor the directions helped. I almost felt physically sick while drinking the coke, I have no idea why.) I slept as badly as usual on the bus, to start with I was teetering on the brink of falling asleep but about three times in a row I sort of ´jerked myself back´ to wakefulness for no clear reason. Then I woke up feeling disoriented a couple of times during the night. No idea what time(s) I woke up or anything as I didn´t feel up to getting my phone out of my pocket. I had a bit of a thirst on when I woke up but after a couple of hours they served breakfast, which included a generous 190ml measure of warm pineapple juice in one of those ´stick the straw through the hole´ cartons which always remind me of packed school lunches. Ah, the carefree days of youth when I had never heard of the Atacama desert.
Anyway, onwards and downwards. I should be allowed to check in at the hostel about now, but I might see if I can find something to eat first. As long as I eat before the trip I should be OK.
The bus got here about 9:40am. It´s hot as hell (and I´m wearing a jacket, because I didn´t want to pack the thing, at least it keeps the sun off my arms), the streets are covered in dust and rocks and I spent an hour (by the clock) dragging my suitcase up and down (I need an offroad suitcase, this one doesn´t have sufficient ground clearance for the streets here) the main street trying to find the "centrally located, 5 minutes from the bus station" hostel according to some pathetic directions I had copied from their web site. Eventually a guy asked if I needed a taxi and I paid CLP4,000 with tip. He had to stop three (or was it four?) times and ask directions to find it. (While the directions on the web were complete bollocks, to be fair, it probably is 5 minutes walk from the bus station if you know where it is. Next time I am going to dig up GPS coordinates for my hotel/hostel on Google Maps before I set out. Assuming you can do that on Google Maps. Which you probably can´t.)
Then when I got to the hostel, they had no trace of my "confirmed booking" via hostelworld.com, the first and possibly the last time I have used the site. (I came here to the internet cafe primarily to blow off a little steam by sending them a strongly-worded e-mail. I hear pissing in the wind helps too.) Fortunately they had a room free anyway. It´s shared bathroom here (I knew that anyway), the place has a very young backpacker feel and I don´t feel very much like I´m going to fit in. I can see myself slinking in at 3 or 4am after a few beers trying not to attract attention from everyone partying in the courtyard.
Oh, and the "free internet" at the hostel turns out to be a laptop in some room off the main courtyard with a 3G dongle attached to it. No wi-fi. To be fair, this is "free internet" as described on the web site, I was just hoping for wi-fi. I have come down to an internet cafe in the centre, I can´t sit there using some crappy laptop and no doubt blocking everyone else from using it. At least here there´s more than one PC and I´m paying to use the service so I feel entitled to stay as long as I want. Also, looking on the bright side, they actually advertise the ability to put photos from USB stick or SD card onto DVD here, so this may finally be my chance to clear some space on my SD cards. Good job too, since I can´t upload any photos while I´m here.
To give the staff at the hostel credit, the woman showing me round did say I could use the dongle on my laptop. I´m sure that would make me really popular too. And besides, what are the chances of it working on my Linux netbook? Maybe not nonexistent, but I´m wouldn´t hold my breath, even if I were going to try it, which I´m not. (For that matter, what are the chances of it working on a random Windows laptop? I would have assumed you'd need to install drivers anyway.)
And of course I have to do god knows how many bloody tours to places of interest from here. I´m sick of all this "unmissable" stuff. I am already booked on one (via the hostel) for 4pm this afternoon to go to Valle de la Luna or something like that. That, according to my guide book (which I now hate with a passion, it completely failed to include my hostel´s street on its map), is *the* obligatory trip from here. The woman at the hostel mentioned something about a trip to some lake with a high salt concentration, but I can´t see myself going there as it would naturally involve going into the water (I won´t say "swimming", the woman pointed out how you float very well, presumably Dead Sea-style) and I ain´t doing that, especially not with a massive group of 20-something-year olds.
I also saw something about a sandboarding trip, which obviously I can´t do but knowing that kind of option exists just makes me feel even more than I´m not having as much fun as I ought to be.
Massive amounts of swearing out loud in English as I tried to find the hostel. I probably looked like the drunk/mentally impaired people you sometimes encounter on the streets in London. I ate yesterday at about 7pm but I wonder if lack of food is somehow responsible for my extremely bad mood. (I bought an ice lolly and a big bottle of regular coke while wandering around, partly to see if the sugar would help and partly as a pretext to ask for directions. Neither the food nor the directions helped. I almost felt physically sick while drinking the coke, I have no idea why.) I slept as badly as usual on the bus, to start with I was teetering on the brink of falling asleep but about three times in a row I sort of ´jerked myself back´ to wakefulness for no clear reason. Then I woke up feeling disoriented a couple of times during the night. No idea what time(s) I woke up or anything as I didn´t feel up to getting my phone out of my pocket. I had a bit of a thirst on when I woke up but after a couple of hours they served breakfast, which included a generous 190ml measure of warm pineapple juice in one of those ´stick the straw through the hole´ cartons which always remind me of packed school lunches. Ah, the carefree days of youth when I had never heard of the Atacama desert.
Anyway, onwards and downwards. I should be allowed to check in at the hostel about now, but I might see if I can find something to eat first. As long as I eat before the trip I should be OK.
Buses 4
It's 00:20 and the damn bus finally turned up. It even said San Pedro Atacama on the front, so fingers crossed I am going all the way, which reduces worries about sleeping past my stop.
Just need to try to relax and get a bit of a grip now.
Buses 3
Will I get this series of posts into double digits?
23:55 and another bus just turned up, this time for Ovalle. Everyone else hanging around magically knows this isn't their bus, even the woman who is obviously also a tourist from the way she is speaking in oddly-accented Spanish to someone else. I asked the now customary question to the conductor and was told no. It's annoying enough that my bus is 25 minutes late without the uncertainty about recognising it and the worry it may have gone already without me realising.
They could print the ultimate destination of the bus on the ticket, but I guess that would be helpful and avoid confusion.
Buses 2
It gets worse. Another bus came in 10 minutes ago and is just about to leave. It's 23:30, when my bus goes, and there's nothing else here. This one goes to Arica, which is not a super plausible destination for a bus going via San Pedro Atacama, but is not totally inconceivable to my geographically impaired mind. I asked the driver and he said it wasn't my bus, but I just don't trust myself to hear correctly.
I am sick of this crap. The only consolation is that I do have my hotel room here if I have now missed my bus.
Buses
A bus turned up about 30 mins ago and is still here. It says it is going to Iquique on the front, I have no idea where that is or if San Pedro Atacama might be a stop on the route. (My guide book will have a map, but it's inconveniently in my strapped and locked-up suitcase. Naturally there is no map at the bus station, that would be crazy.) I have asked two people and they both said it's not my bus, but the fact the damn thing is the only bus here and it's nearly 23:30 and it will probably still be here then makes me nervous. Naturally there is no electronic display or anything like that which might possibly provide further reassurance.
WTF is it about buses that there's always just this little bit of uncertainty about the whole process?
PS The thing just pulled out at 23:20. So that's a weight off my mind.
Crap water
I think the tap water here tastes awful. I must admit I am paying attention to this now because one of the guys I met last night told me, but during the day yesterday I had been drinking from a bottle of tap water and that was foul too.
I am quite parched right now, as I haven't wanted to drink much tap water today. I had three small bottles of coke with dinner but that doesn't seem to have satisfied me. I am now at the bus station and the one tiny kiosk nearby has no diet soft drinks and it's far from clear anything they have is refrigerated. I am arguably being a bit arsey here, but somehow I didn't even want to buy a bottle of water from them.
Hmm, I just had a swig out of my bottle of tapwater and although it's not fantastic it doesn't taste too foul. Maybe I imagined it yesterday, or maybe I'm just thirsty enough not to care. Or maybe letting the tap run for a bit before I filled the bottle hoped. Who knows? And of course, who cares?
An interesting night
There was karaoke on at Snack Bar Top's last night. I was strong and didn't sing, perhaps for the best as the standard was pretty high. It was quite diverting, about 4am a woman sat at the table next to me asked me if I was on my own and invited me to join her group. I talked with them (in bad Spanish) until they chucked us out at 5am, then we went to a sort of nightclub which was open surreptitiously late for people in the know until about 7am. One of the guys (a renewable energy engineer, as it happens) then drove us over to some street kiosk where we bought hot dogs, then they gave me a lift back to my hotel. They seemed quite keen for me to go to Pan de Azucar with them, although I don't know when, but I said I had already bought my bus ticket to leave the next night, which was true of course. I gave the two women (the only ones who asked) cards with my e-mail address on, although as always I don't expect anything to come of it. This exchanging contact details with people you've just met and will never see again just seems to be the done thing.
I walked down to the beach instead of going into the hotel, it was just getting light but was very quiet. There was an absence of stranded jellyfish for some reason. I got back to the hotel about 8am and slept somewhat fitfully until about 5pm. I've packed, except for a few clothes I am giving a little extra time to dry and will pack later, went out to get something to eat and am now back at the hotel killing time (and maybe uploading some photos) until it's time to do that last bit of packing and go get the bus.
I feel today was a bit wasted, I had half hoped to get up by about midday and wander round a bit and maybe get my haircut, but I guess last night was a better use of time really.
I walked down to the beach instead of going into the hotel, it was just getting light but was very quiet. There was an absence of stranded jellyfish for some reason. I got back to the hotel about 8am and slept somewhat fitfully until about 5pm. I've packed, except for a few clothes I am giving a little extra time to dry and will pack later, went out to get something to eat and am now back at the hotel killing time (and maybe uploading some photos) until it's time to do that last bit of packing and go get the bus.
I feel today was a bit wasted, I had half hoped to get up by about midday and wander round a bit and maybe get my haircut, but I guess last night was a better use of time really.
Friday 19 February 2010
Crappy coins
I've been here more than three weeks and I still struggle with the coins.
They presumably changed the style some time in the last few years as there are two totally different CLP100 coins, one is a massive copper thing, the other is a more lightweight bimetallic job. I assume the copper is older. In the old style, the CLP50 coin is almost indistinguishable from the CLP100. It is slightly smaller, but I can only tell if I have a stack of the things or read the front of the coin. It's a nuisance in the dark.
Maybe the newer set by itself is more tractable, in which case I have to give them credit for making the switch and in five or ten more years it will all be cool.
Further random observations
While waiting on the bus to go back, there was a youngish kid with his mother on there. He was slightly annoying but I was fascinated to be able to understand nearly everything he said, unlike arbitrary adult conversations I overhear.
He kept saying 'minibus' (obviously it's the same word in Spanish as English) in a way that sounded absolutely fine to me, but his mother kept correcting his pronunciation. I couldn't tell the difference between her way and his, except that he audibly said it completely wrong while trying to imitate her pronunciation after being corrected.
Back at Snack-Bar Top's
This post is all over the place, but WTF. It's comprehensible, just a bit mixed up.
I stayed here til about 3am last night, they had a man and a woman singing from about half past midnight, also six or so people singing as some sort of semi-final to a karaoke competition, and it was quite a nice atmosphere. No signs of stopping when I left but I figured I'd pushed it a bit far already and was verging on being too drunk as well. Got up OK all the same this morning, although I wasn't summoned at 10am and hence got up needlessly early. (I tell a lie, I was summoned almost dead on 10am but it turned out to be a strange mistake, it was a nice chap who'd come to see someone about a boat trip. No idea why the hotel thought he might want me, unless the bus company had phoned the hotel to 'warn' them I might be wanted early, which seems implausible.)
I only just left the hotel to come out, it's not quite 11pm. I was fighting my British urge to go out earlier before it was too late. It's busyish here but by no means as busy as I expect it to be later. Long Island Beach Pub, or whatever it's called, looked extremely desolate, although I didn't try the door. The same for the other bar down the road which I saw yesterday (the door was open and there were about 5 people in there, including 3 women sat round a laptop). I don't really know where else I could go than here, there are a couple of disco/nightclub places but they look quite intimidating and I am not sure they are open tonight/this early anyway. I sort of walked by one on the way over and it didn't look open, although I didn't go past the door.
I had to ring the bell for a while to get into the hotel last night. All cool in the end, and I had previously checked it was 24h reception, but I had horrible visions of dragging the guy out of bed. And being torn apart by dogs while spending the remainder of the night on the beach.
I asked again about reception closing before I came out tonight and the woman on the desk told me someone is up all night, if they are not at the desk they will be in the kitchen. So it's OK if I do turn up late. I just hope it doesn't look like I was complaining about the delay to get in last night.
(I didn't mention the ants in the room to the hotel, by the way. Maybe it was my spray, but I haven't seen any since yesterday evening. I hope it was the spray, it's overdue to come in useful.)
Not sure right now if I will stay out that late. I don't really know what I expected but it seems a bit disappointing being down here again. On the other hand, I had a fairly enjoyable time last night so what the hell. Just play it by ear I suppose. I may be a little tired since I only got about 6 hours sleep last night.
Just after I sent the 'Vertigo?' post from the summit, I took my phone out of my pocket again to check the time and the aerial came loose. I put the aerial away in my pocket and had a quick look round for the screw but couldn't see it. I checked when I got back to the hotel and the screw was at the bottom of my pocket, as I had half hoped it would be, and a quick twist of a screwdriver later the aerial is reattached solidly. I was quite chuffed, I half expected to end up supergluing or duck-taping it.
The bus left about 20-30 minutes late coming back from Pan de Azucar. It turned up ahead of time, so at least I had a seat, good job as it was heaving and a couple of people stood for the first part of the trip. (They got off at some desolate beach nearby, though. Loads of people camp at the bit I went to, clearly these people were a bit more adventurous.) I was mildly hacked off as I was starving and wanted to get back for dinner. (There is a shanty town of down-at-hell restaurants at the beach, but I figured I'd rather eat back here and spend the time there 'doing stuff'.)
After the hill I went for a walk along the beach. Quite attractive and all, but I prefer the greater solitude of the beach here at Chañaral. The beach at Pan de Azucar was pretty clean, but it had no stranded jelllyfish, which I personally don't regard as a good trade off. They add poignant interest and a touch of the exotic.
I'm sort of glad I went even if it wasn't a proper tour. Climbing the hill was pretty cool (it seemed a complete non-achievement on the way down though, I think I took a needlessly complex route up, regardless, it was quite entertaining) but apart from that it wasn't so fantastic. OK though.
There was a sign on the way in saying you had to pay to get in (more for foreigners, of course). But we didn't stop and no one asked later. One woman on the bus back had a 'Pan de Azucar' paper wristband but I didn't see anyone else with one.
I half wonder if I didn't go to the park proper. But while wandering around in a foul temper just after arriving I saw roadsigns pointing into the car park by the beach saying 'Pan de Azucar', so I have to assume I did go there.
Thursday 18 February 2010
Vertigo?
Pah. I laugh in the face of danger, tweak its tail and kick it in the balls. :-)
I am at Pan de Azucar national park. As per earlier venomous blog post, which I will allow to stand for that 'on the spot' reportage feel :-), I am not seeing what I expected to see as there is no tour, the bus just dropped us off and is picking us up later.
However, there are some rocky hills on the coast here and at great risk to life and limb I have ascended one and am writing this from what I cannot resist calling the summit.
This is clearly not virgin territory as witnessed by the presence of fag ends and the occasional beer can. However, the climb up is sufficiently uncharted and treacherous looking to make me feel a possibly unjustified pride in getting up here.
I am definitely flirting with my fears a little. There is no absolutely clear place to stand and I am sitting on a rock as I have the nagging doubt that if I stand and do anything else I will accidentally take a step sideways and stumble down a rather nasty looking incline.
I just hope I don't break my neck on the way down. I will send this now just in case. :-)
Nice view all the same. I won't make it to the 'main' lookout in the park (I only know it exists from a mapless leaflet pinned to the wall in the tourist information shack), but this will do.
Well this is a steaming pile of crap
On 'tour' of Pan de Azucar. The bus turned up an hour late, we just got here and there's no tour, it's just a trip here and a trip back. After about five people pushed in ahead of me I asked the guy in the tourist information shack we pulled up at if I could do a tour, since I have no fucking clue what I am supposed to see or do here. He wanted to flog me a trip to some island to see penguins. Apparently if I want to do a tour of the park I have to go to some invisible 'Conaf' building 50 metres away.
I fully admit to not understand 90% of what the barking woman who sold me the ticket said, but I did try to explicitly ask if there was some sort of tour and I got the impression there was.
At this rate I am just going to have to stand here for four and a half hours (plus however late the bus is this time). What a load of bollocks.
More language lessons
I just switched to 'chopp' (if I spell that right), i.e. draught lager instead of bottled. For the first time (as far as I remember) on the trip they asked me what size I wanted. I can't remember the word for the smaller one (I doubt I will need it :-) ) but the larger, which I assume is half a litre, is 'mediano', if I heard correctly.
I found out on the ferry, but forgot the word until I saw it in my guide book after, that in Chile they don't say 'novio/a' for boyfriend/girlfriend, it's (if memory serves) 'pollolo/a'.
When I bought the tour ticket the middle-aged woman serving me called me 'joven', 'young man'. I am half flattered but also wonder if this is a slightly insulting form of address as it would be in English. I assume not though.
Further wafflings
When I turned up this morning the receptionist seemed to say the room wasn't ready, which I expected, so I asked if I could leave my bag there while I went for a walk. There was some confusion, in part because she said afterwards there was a 'pieza' and I thought 'a piece of what', but as I already said it turned out there was a room ready. I looked it up later and it turns out 'pieza' also means room. So I've learned something.
I must say there seem to be a few ants around in the room. They are small and relatively inoffensive, but I frequently noted several strolling about on the bed. I may say something tomorrow but I sort of don't like to make a fuss.
I have a small and frankly troublesome bottle of insect repellent with me - it has leaked slightly over various things in the course of the trip so far, eating away at the plastic of my glasses case and generally being obnoxious. So I will probably have a good squirt with that when I go to bed and see if it helps. I should maybe have done it earlier but I had junk on the bed (for a change I really do only have a single room - I have often had a twin and used one bed as a sort of wardrobe) and although I don't mind exposing my skin and their bedding to the stuff, my experiences with the stuff so far make me disinclined to expose anything made of plastic to it.
I've had a request for more bar information
Always happy to oblige. I figured stuff might open around 9pm so I just sauntered out. Sky amazingly clear and loads of stars even though it's not fully dark yet and there are the town lights. Will have to make an effort to have a good stare at night before I go.
Tried 'Long Island Beach pub' (something like that) but although there were a limited number of lights showing the door was locked. Passed some other random looking bar but it was totally empty and looked a bit uninviting. Now in 'Topp's Snack Bar' (something like that) where I am drinking a tiny (330ml) bottle of Austral (CLP1500) and watching the other two or three customers. There is supposed to be live music here tonight, but I doubt I will make it out that late. Have to be ready for a 10am start tomorrow.
I may not stay here all night, if it's still dead after 10pm I may wander around and see if I can see anything better. I am slightly apprehensive about dogs but it's nowhere near the Puerto Williams level.
Wednesday 17 February 2010
My decision making muscles are in tip-top shape
I went to see the natural history museum. It was shut and to be honest it looks like it's been shut for years. I may try again later or on Friday.
I booked for the Pan de Azucar tour tomorrow, I am a bit dubious but we'll just have to see how it goes. If I understand correctly they may come and drag me out of the hotel at 10am if it happens to go early otherwise I need to go to the kiosk I booked at at 12:30pm.
I made a decision, I am going to get the overnight bus to San Pedro Atacama at 23:30 on Friday night. Since I am paying for my room here on Friday night I have the hotel as a base until I catch the bus. This is a bit wasteful but it can't be helped, as it is I will have three full days here (counting today and Friday as full days, which I think is fair) and apart from the tour tomorrow there's really nothing to do here except stand by the beach and watch traffic go past on the Panamericana. So even three days is enough time just 'relaxing'. It's so quiet I can't even find a bar open to celebrate my decision, although there will be some open later. I am
having something to eat, as so often seems the case they don't do diet coke here but there you go. There are plenty of flies and plenty of heat to compensate.
I have booked a hostel in San Pedro Atacama for three nights starting Saturday, and I walked over to the bus station to buy the bus ticket, so it's all sorted. As long as I don't lose the bus ticket...
Chanaral
The bus was OK, the seat didn't recline fully but it was still pretty comfortable. I dozed fitfully from about 11pm to 4am, when I woke up and got panicky I would miss my stop. In the end it was OK, although it was only because I happened to ask the guy who gave me something for breakfast that I knew. I had expected they would come and tell me when we were there, maybe they would if I hadn't got off anyway but I am not sure. I mean, how am I supposed to know? I'm a tourist and the curtains on the bus were all drawn, so it's not as if I can see where we are even if I could recognise it. (Besides, bus stations never clearly indicate which city they are in when you look out of the window.)
By sheer chance I managed to walk over to the hotel from the bus terminal and they let me check in early, at about 9am. The hotel is quite nice although the room is a somewhat dingy and battered monk-like cell off the garden. Passable though. I need to follow up on it but the free wifi doesn't seem to reach to my room so I am writing this in the hotel bar with a nearly flat battery.
Went for a bit of a walk earlier, the views are quite spectucular with the mountains and the beach (possibly the first time I've seen the Pacific). The guide book hints that the beach is toxic as it consists of sand excavated from some nearby copper mine (there is a map showing the former coastline, which suggests there was an impressive amount of material dumped). Apart from a slight tendency to junk it looks quite nice though. I wandered around there and saw a lot of vultures (or possibly condors, I have no idea, and according to the guy at El Bar de Ruperto condors are essentially a type of vulture anyway). I went down onto the beach and found it heavily populated with still living jellyfish and the dessicated remains of their unlucky relatives.
While I was staring at one particular one hoping to watch the tide wash it back into the sea, I turned round to find a dog behind me. It went and sniffed at the jellyfish and then insisted on following me as I walked back off the beach. Fortunately I managed to lose it, and I must admit it seemed superficially friendly and quiet, but I didn't like having it around.
The place is pretty desolate. The only real reason to come here is as a stopover on the way north and to see the Pan de Azucar national park, which I need to go and book this afternoon.
Skies are very clear, this region has a number of world-class astronomical observatories. I just may manage to get a look at the stars, although I am not sure I fancy walking over to the beach at night, the considerably amount of graffiti and empty drink cans imply it's a popular hangout with the slightly dodgier element. Maybe there will be an OK view from somewhere else, we'll see.
I had a quick look on the web just now and it looks like there are rooms available in hostels in San Pedro Atacama when I leave here. I need to book those later today before they fill up, but it's a surprisingly long 10-12h trip from here to there so I need to decide if I am going to do it as an overnight trip or not. The main reason not to try to do that, I think, is that it means I will effectively be here in Chanaral for four full days and while it's probably a relaxing enough place, I am a bit uncertain about wasting that much time. I am feeling the pinch a bit for time.
I have booked the hotel here for three nights but I may end up leaving a day early and just forfeiting the extra night's charge. I need to think about it. If I can get the tour of the park in tomorrow then I have no major reason to stay, if I had all the time in the world it would be nice to relax here for a few days but as it is I'm not sure I ought to.
I am a bit reluctant to go book the tour as (following advice from reception) I am just going to have to go to some ratty-looking kiosk in the street. Anyway, better get it over with.
By sheer chance I managed to walk over to the hotel from the bus terminal and they let me check in early, at about 9am. The hotel is quite nice although the room is a somewhat dingy and battered monk-like cell off the garden. Passable though. I need to follow up on it but the free wifi doesn't seem to reach to my room so I am writing this in the hotel bar with a nearly flat battery.
Went for a bit of a walk earlier, the views are quite spectucular with the mountains and the beach (possibly the first time I've seen the Pacific). The guide book hints that the beach is toxic as it consists of sand excavated from some nearby copper mine (there is a map showing the former coastline, which suggests there was an impressive amount of material dumped). Apart from a slight tendency to junk it looks quite nice though. I wandered around there and saw a lot of vultures (or possibly condors, I have no idea, and according to the guy at El Bar de Ruperto condors are essentially a type of vulture anyway). I went down onto the beach and found it heavily populated with still living jellyfish and the dessicated remains of their unlucky relatives.
While I was staring at one particular one hoping to watch the tide wash it back into the sea, I turned round to find a dog behind me. It went and sniffed at the jellyfish and then insisted on following me as I walked back off the beach. Fortunately I managed to lose it, and I must admit it seemed superficially friendly and quiet, but I didn't like having it around.
The place is pretty desolate. The only real reason to come here is as a stopover on the way north and to see the Pan de Azucar national park, which I need to go and book this afternoon.
Skies are very clear, this region has a number of world-class astronomical observatories. I just may manage to get a look at the stars, although I am not sure I fancy walking over to the beach at night, the considerably amount of graffiti and empty drink cans imply it's a popular hangout with the slightly dodgier element. Maybe there will be an OK view from somewhere else, we'll see.
I had a quick look on the web just now and it looks like there are rooms available in hostels in San Pedro Atacama when I leave here. I need to book those later today before they fill up, but it's a surprisingly long 10-12h trip from here to there so I need to decide if I am going to do it as an overnight trip or not. The main reason not to try to do that, I think, is that it means I will effectively be here in Chanaral for four full days and while it's probably a relaxing enough place, I am a bit uncertain about wasting that much time. I am feeling the pinch a bit for time.
I have booked the hotel here for three nights but I may end up leaving a day early and just forfeiting the extra night's charge. I need to think about it. If I can get the tour of the park in tomorrow then I have no major reason to stay, if I had all the time in the world it would be nice to relax here for a few days but as it is I'm not sure I ought to.
I am a bit reluctant to go book the tour as (following advice from reception) I am just going to have to go to some ratty-looking kiosk in the street. Anyway, better get it over with.
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