July 20^th

After a day of rest in Iquique, this is the day we visit the oases villages of Matilla and Pica.

The four of us drive from Iquique, rapidly climbing the mountainous backdrop to the city, the El Dragon sand dune on our right, past Alto Hospicio, on to barren and flat backlands.

We stop at Santa Laura, the eerie nitrate factory, whose rusting machinery juts straight up out in this expanse of nothingness. From there, we walk around hauntingly quiet Humberstone (named after James Humberstone, manager of mines), a former mining town, which finally closed in 1960.

The exit to La Tirana is off the Panamerican Highway, as we knew from our experience the previous night. We drive through the fawn desert landscape. Ahead of us, some 40 km. away, we notice hazy patches of green shimmer on the horizon. Matilla, the first oasis we reach, is charming. We take a brief tour of the village dominated by its beautiful old church, whose tower was badly damaged by the recent earthquake. Read the rest of this entry »

July 17

In the morning, we start off with a walking tour of Putre. It is an appealing little village. A week later, I will be visiting the better known and more frequented San Pedro de Atacama; and I prefer Putre.

We meet Barbara Knapton, an American, who lives in Putre and runs birding tours around the region. Her blue-washed adobe home with its typically Andean grass-fringed roof sits hugging the main street. She is widely recognized as being the local birding expert and is in the process of writing a regional birding anthology.

We depart Putre at midday. Snow-decked Mount Taapaca (the Chilean name is Nevado de Putre), a Chilean volcano, dominates the background. We bid farewell to this charming pueblo, nestled amongst its terraced fields in a green and fertile gorge. High, high up above us, in the clear blue skies, we observe two Condors circling in the air streams.

We go up and over the Huaillas, with plunging ravines to our right. Once again, a landscape resembling cream of spinach, cleft with red iron oxide welts. The Guanaco appears to prefer this region, as we come across several. Read the rest of this entry »

July 16

The refuge is situated next to the most spectacular scenery imaginable, overlooking the Salar de Surire. This is the first thing I see as I pull open the curtains and peer out of my narrow window in the morning.

It is cold, but sunny and with clear blue skies.

Before breakfast, Joe befriends some vizcachas, which live in the rock face behind the cottage. Obviously, they are used to human contact, as they accept food greedily from his outstretched hand. We also see black-hooded and plumbeous Sierra-Finches and ash billed Finches.

Jaime tells us of illegal mining activities taking place on the salar, encroaching on some flamingo nesting areas. The wind whips up the borax into white salty dust devils, which land on the flamingo eggs and hinder their hatching. The government allows only a portion of the vast lake to be used for mining, but as there is no one to police the situation, the mining activities have extended inexorably beyond their permitted boundaries.

We leave the refuge shortly after 9:00 a.m., and head towards Polloquere Hot Springs, retracing some of the previous day’s route. The sun’s rays reflected through the windows make us believe that it is a lot warmer outside than it is.

Vicuñas graze in the bofedal grass. A kill by a pair of mountain caracara (hawk) happens before our very eyes. A swoop, a flutter of wings, and all reverts back to blue skies and silence. Read the rest of this entry »

July 15

Unceremoniously awakened by the vehicle engine roaring to life. Jaime is up and obviously wants to get going. The morning air is cold. I decide to dress under the bedclothes, just as I used to do at boarding school in the Kenya highlands, and later on in life, in my splendid if frugally heated home in Devon, England.

I have toast and coffee for breakfast, and while Joe is still stirring, decide to climb the dusty main track through the deserted village past baked-earth homes up to the colorful cemetery on the hilltop. The cemetery is lovingly if, for some taste’s, garishly adorned with garlands of fake flowers. The Indians take their religion, a mixture of unquestioning Christian beliefs mixed with old Aymara customs, very seriously.

We leave mid-morning and drive past la casa embrujada (the bewitched house), and the mangy dogs and cat. Jaime points out some Greenwich Yellow Finches.

We rapid climb up the side of the valley. Once over the summit, we continue negotiating switchback curves, swerving to avoid a vehicle driven helter-skelter Read the rest of this entry »

July 14

As agreed, Joe and I meet up with our guide Jaime at 11:00 a.m. at the Copec gas station, where he fills up the white 4-wheel vehicle with 120 litres of diesel. The truck is chock-a-block full of cartons, baskets and ice boxes filled with provisions for the four-day journey.

We start our expedition heading steeply up the only road leading east out of the valley, up the golden mountainside behind Iquique. With a bird’s eye view over the city below us, and a number of paragliders sailing the airstreams above us, we are eager to start our adventure.

Once over the summit of the mountain, we are on dark-tan barren Pampa. Read the rest of this entry »

The locals are celebrating the feast of La Tirana (the tyrant - an Inca princess who lived some time ago, part of a group of Peruvian Incas that the Spanish brought with them from Peru. Read the rest of this entry »

July 8 – 12

We spend the following days getting acclimatized.

Iquique sits on a long sandy bay clinging to a narrow slip of flat land hugging the coastline. A enjoyable sea promenade lined with Washingtonia palms as well as a coastal road separate the pounding surf from the town. Its backdrop are tan colored hills, and an impressive-looking sand dune aptly called “El Dragón. Read the rest of this entry »

July 7
Wake to pounding surf and pea-soup fog. This lifts towards midday.

After breakfast, we pay a visit to the solidly built four-storey Gibbs Williamson building, our home many years ago. The company’s offices were on the ground floor. The remaining floors were residential. Read the rest of this entry »

July 6th

It is overcast and chilly when we rise. We take a quick tour around the resort, desolate during the winter months, but much prized in the warm summer.

We leave Bahía Inglesa at 11:00 a.m. and venture into the sun-scorched landscape, the daunting infinite Atacama, reputed to be the driest desert in the world. Read the rest of this entry »

July 5th

Dawn breaks but it is cold. It should come as no surprise as we have come here in the winter months, and we are at quite a high altitude.

Breakfast is a continental style buffet, after which we take a brief stroll along the Río Hurtado, a slate green rushing stream swollen by recent snowfalls. Horses, belonging to the Hacienda, graze in the paddocks. Chile’s ubiquitous dusty grey-green Pepper Tree with its herring-bone leaves and pinkish red pepper corns grows everywhere. Read the rest of this entry »