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When Eoin left me in Lima he got an early flight to Mexico and then to Heathrow and then home. I was happy enough as Cristine showed me around the city for the day. She was so passionate about her country and so full of knowledge that the whole time in Peru with just the three of us was an absolute pleasure.
Anyway the time came for me to get the taxi to the airport and then the plane to Santiago where I was going to meet my brother and sister. I was quite happy doing this on my own as Eoin had left me with so many instructions about travelling on your own that I felt ready for anything. Not so. I got to the airport 3 hours before the flight and was very shocked to be told that there was no seat for me on the flight even though I had booked it 6 months ago. They told me they would put me up in a hotel, feed me and put me on flight next morning as the company had over booked the flight. I couldnt bear the thought of that. It was eventually sorted as somebody gave me their seat for 300 euros worth vouchers. Grand but it had rattled my confidence . The next setback was that the taxi cost 35 dollars to my hotel but I swallowed that as as usual it was 3.30 in the morning. The taxi driver kindly waited at the hotel as I knocked on the door repeatly to no avail. Eventually as old fellow opened the door and reluctantly let me in. I explained in my best Spanish that I had a reservation he spoke in Greek or Urdu but I could get the message. There was no reservation and no room. He showed me on the computer that I had a room for the next night. Another wrong booking! When I started to ask could I sleep in a chair in the lobby I must have looked so upset that he found me a room and the next day the receptionist with great charm said that the payment would be moved and that I could get on with my trip. The next night I spent with Claire and Phil in a posh hotel which cost me nearly 100 euro as they charge by the room.
The 3 of us got a bus to the airport costing 1.50 euro and headed off up the Andes to a tiny village called San Pedro de Atacama. We decided to go the Lonely Planet Way and picked out a hostal but could not get through to book a room. We decided that it was off season there would be no problem. Wrong again.
The bus from the airport dropped us in a dusty lane somewhere in this tiny village somewhere in the High Andes and you know the rest they had no room. Its getting dark as we wander off up the road in the direction of another hostal so the mood was a bit hysterical. We were picking out a spot to spend the night when a car came by and asked us if we were ok and guess what he was the owner of a hostal and he ahd a 3 bedded room for 10 euro pp per night Just as well as this is at 2.500 feet and it gets to 15 below in the nights. It didnt get much hotter than that in the hostal whic was very basic so I went to bed in all my clothes for the next which included my swimming togs.
We went out immediately to book tours for the next 2 days. So picture us (all well over 60) at 5.30 the next morning being picked up by a bus to make the 2 hour trip to see a famous geyser at dawn and to swim in the water there. We were warned not to drink alcalol, eat meat or drink milk the night before as the geyser was at 4.500 metres. I took all my tablets and took a deep breath. The ride was very bumpy and as we drove up higher and higher the inside of the windows in the bus froze over. We got there 30 minutes before dawn and I have never been so cold in my life even though I had all my warm clothes on. The geyser was gushing away and eventually an eerie blue light came over the surrounding mountains and we could see it properly. There were lots of minor ones and the scene was surreal as beside the geysers the gound was frozen solid and there were reflections from the rising sun dancing on the ice. I had a good look at the others in the bus and saw that 3 young girls from Australia were walking around with their sleeping bags around them like coccoons with just thier shoes peeping out at the bottom- We were given breakfast of drinking chocolate and boiled eggs all heated in a small geysert and bread and cheese. I felt a little better until he said now its time for the swim and showed us a large pool with steam coming off the water but with inches of frost on the wall surrounding it.
I came very close to chickening out until I thought about sleeping in my togs for no reason and how bad I would feel if I did, so I went down to the end of the pool away from all the beautiful young things who were screaming with the excitement of it all and quickly took off my clothes and lowered myself in. Neither of my siblings joined me. Phil because he had a chest infection and had worn his togs in bed for no reason and Cliare because she thought the whole idea was totally daft. It was a lovely experience. The water was as warm as the Royal a swimming pool and it was like a turkish bath as the steam swirled over the water and every so aften syou could see absolutely nothing. The problem was getting out as it was still 14 to 15 degrees below. After the third time I tried I managed to persuade myself to get out and felt quite warm as I got dressed. Then I noticed that my togs were froxen solid and I decided to get back into the bus before I was the samei I smelled of bad eggs for the next day.
We had 2 more lovely days in this tiny dusty village which was and still is very popular to hippies and alternative travellers. The difference between the bright sunny days and the freezings days was extraordinary, They never have rain and at this altitude no clouds either so it was stunningly beautiful.
It was time to move on and I was not really sorry to leave the hostal ( no heating) though the hosts could not have been more charming but I am a cold creature and went around feeling frozen most of the time. Our next journey was over the Andes in a bus. The journey took 10 hours and the only time we left the bus was crossing the border into Argentina. This journey took us up to 5.000 metres and I was extremely glad I was sitting down as I had suffered from an extreme shortness of breath while in San Pedro and found it very difficult to walk uphill which we had to do on a few tours. One man in the bus was sick a lot and the conductor took good care of him. I was never bored for a second. The bus wended its up higher and higher in this desert area with the vivid blue sky as a backdrop to the most extraordinary scenery. This is all volcano territory. San Pedro had been ringed with about ten volcanos and we could see smoke wisping out of one and a cap of snow on the big daddy. Now looking out the window of the bus we were up as high as the highest volcano. It was abvious that this volcanic activity had being going on for millions of years as some volcanos were nice and round and in front of them were angry jagged peaks and in front of them were little baby volcanos. There were enormous craters shoved up on their sides by more recent volcanos so the whole thing was mesmerising. The places we passed through were called names like lunar valley and death valley. Ever time the bus rounded a corner the whole topography changed and suddenly we seemed to be in an Alpine valley with vellow grass until you noticed icy blue frozen lakes and that it was certainly not grass but same spiney vegetation coloured by the sulphur leaching from the water. The colours of the earth changed constantly as well. We went from pink to red to purble to ochre to sand to terracotta to pale blue to dark blue to green and even white. You could see from the way these colours swirled up and down over the mountains and formed rivers of a totally different colour from the top of the mountans to the bottom they were all caused by the different minerals melting in the centre of the earth and spewed out when the volcanos erupted. We saw vicuna calmly browsing beside the frozen lakes at 5.000 metres. We saw lammas ducks geese and even tiny birds all looking very comfortable at this altitude. The bus even stopped so that everybody could see the cougar that was sitting near the road seemingly enjoying the sun and not remotely interested in us.
I was sad when the shadows started painting the peaks and valleys with even more colours and a bit frightened as the way down was very sudden. We could see from the top the road wending its way down and down and down the side of the mountain. Our plastic water bottles had crumpled after the bus journey because of the altitude we reached at times!!!
We reached our destination Salta ( because they mine salt here) and found that they are expecting the first snow in forty years. Its cloudy and grey and I miss my beautiful mountains already.
- comments
Olwen Olive, you have a wonderful way with words. You convery everything from the fear/worry of the unexpected regarding travel and accommodation, to the wonderful beauty and majesty of all that you see. Its a pleasure to read!
pam Wow Olive! What excitement,what courage, what a story!! I can't wait to see the photos. There will be photos, won't there? I can imagine all the stories you will be telling your grandchildren on your return and I hope you will find some time and energy to share them with us too. (I take it this is just the short version here in the blog). I felt like I was on the bus with you!Can't wait for the next instalment!! Take very good care of yourself and continue to enjoy every minute. Pam x
Carol Reynolds Hi Olive-wow! What else can I say-your swimming adventures will fill my dreams for months and I like swimming! It all sounds great in retrospect but no rooms and no bookings and sharks and narrow defiles-you've been incredibly brave and obviously enjoying it all well enough to write about it too. Looking forward to talking about your adventures in quiet Bray-how will you cope with the pace? X Carol
Virginia Olive it's 1.27am and I'm spellbound reading about your travels. Next trip you are bringing me!! Virg X
Trish Yes Olive, Like Virginia, I am also reading this quite late 2.05am, and am equally spellbound. How will you ever settle down again after all these fantastic adventures? Trish