Arica

---

As we woke up in the morning and looked out the window, a dramatic change in the landscape was apparent, with endless deserts, sand covered hills and sand dunes. We'd been going for nearly 24 hours but would still have another five to go on this 2000km journey into northern Chile. We had slept pretty well (all things considered) in the 'semi-cama' reclining aeroplane style seats. Buses here can be very luxurious with some of the posher options even having seats that stretch out completely horizontally, forming a full on bed! Not for us long-termers though.

As we reached Arica at 1pm and stepped off the bus, we were hit by the nice warm weather and sunshine that was rather lacking in Santiago (at least in our opinion). Once inside the terminal we attempted to locate a map to show us exactly where we were and in response, find the hostel we had selected to stay in that night. In the guide book it mentions a nice-sounding place 'near the bus station' but, in typical Lonely Planet style, did not have a map that extended far enough to incorporate either hostel or station. Helpful. However, no map could be found so, forming a sentence in my head, I approached a miserable looking woman on the 'tourist help desk' and asked which direction we should go in order to find our hostel. She rambled off a series of direction - most of which I understood - that were then confirmed in English by a random man who had been listening.

Feeling hopeful, we set off in the direction suggested. Unfortunately, a road of the name required seemed not to exist in the vicinity! Retracing our steps we took a main road also by the station and repeated the instructions, thinking we may have misunderstood the initial direction. Nope. No joy in this direction either. Giving up on finding that particular establishment and now being 'visible' on the provided map as we had walked to the town, we dived into our 'trusty' guide for another near our present location.

On reaching the exact position indicated on the map (and having checked our location with a local who, incidentally, did not seem to have heard of the hostel) guess what? No bloody hostel! We searched around neighbouring streets to no avail and began cursing Lonely Planet for their incompetance - especially considering this was the newest 2010 edition of the South America guide. How can you have 'researched' in the last 6 months and printed a book including a place that was non-existent - if you had been there? Not the first time such a cock-up has been made by the 'bible of travellers' (hence why we prefer Rough Guide).

Tired, grubby and feeling the weight of our bags which we had carried for about 2km at this point, we decided we would walk back to find our first choice, the others in the book being out of our price range (and other options along the way seeming a little grotty). Trudging along the palm lined main road we tried to keep our spirits up and approached the hostel from the coastal rather than the road slightly further inland, hoping to find it by a process of elimination. Thankfully, a taxi driver pulled over an, in broken Spanish/English, we conveyed where we needed to be. He tried to give directions but then decided that he would take us instead for free! In no time we were almost back to where we started and drove down a road we had glanced at earlier. To one side, up a small alleyway just off the road, was our hostel: 5mins from the station. Why in God's name did the guide book not say it was off another road?! Thanking the driver profusely and insisting on giving him a token of our gratitude, we stepped onto the premises breathing a sigh of relief that was multiplied when we were greeted by a kindly man from New Zealand - the owner.

We were shown through the house into the main accommodation/living/kitchen area - all very well kept - and while we dropped our bags onto the bed with a grateful grunt, he returned with not only the checking in papers, but a glass of juice and a piece of cake each as well! What a find (when we found it!). After having a 10min break we perused the information we had been given (again - the host is a great guy and is full of helpful advice on the area and travel in S.A. Generally) and decided we would venture to the local market before buying supplied at the supermarket for dinner - both only a short distance away.

Having fulfilled our spending needs, we made a brief stop by the beach to view the sea (and a couple of surfers) then decided to call it a day as we both were needing sleep. Cooking dinner and having a glass of wine were all we could manage before crawling into bed after a very mixed day which ended on a positive - bring on tomorrow!

A slightly cloudy/hazy sky greeted us the following day but we were not deterred as the temperature was pleasantly warm. After an 'all-you-can-eat' buffet of cereals, bread/jam and drinks we set off into town, this time opting for the scenic route rather than having it semi-imposed on us.

A closer inspection of the beach revealed that although a promenade stretched away from our position, it did not head into town as we had hoped. Returning to the main road we followed our palm friends back to the area of town we had been in the previous day - and were amazed at how far we had walked (must have been at least 4km in total). However, our return visit was much nicer with us finding shop-filled streets and the central plaza with a great church on - Inglesia San Marco - (made almost completely of cast iron - all except the wooden door and windows). We sat and watched the local people go about their business, many coming from church dressed in their 'Sunday best' and others migrating towards the market area just off the plaza.

Curiosity made us explore the craft market which offered great wares (I resisted) and then we deemed it time to climb up El Morrow de Arica, the hill that overlooks the town and provides views of the area. The roads surrounding the base of the steps actually make the climb easier as they themselves are quite steep, taking an edge of the total altitude. The path makes a zig-zag up he hill to reach a platform area where a large flagpole flies the Chilean colours. Looking out over the railings we realised quickly that the town was much more sprawling than originally thought and that it had quite a busy port area full of containers ready to be shipped to distant places (even P&O had a crate).

Sitting on a bench eating a rather juicy apple, we began to notice an increased police presence and soon a couple of officers made their way over to us. After ascertaining that we spoke neither Spanish nor French to any great extent, we gradually understood that we would need to move as a man had jumped over the railings and room needed to be made for the military 'rope' division to enable a rescue to be enacted. Wow! Hurriedly we relocated to a safe distance - within watching distance - but were disappointed as no-one seemed in a hurry to deploy ropes, so we drifted away to explore the other delights of the summit.

Skipping the war museum (seen enough of them over the last 9 months) we moved up the slope to a large statue of Jesus Christ who had a great view over stunning coastline round the other side of the bluff. Resting a short while to take in the vista, we then descended back to the flagpole to find all the action had ceased and the men were re-rolling their ropes. Oh-well.

Down the hill and in to the main square again, we mooched around the (mainly closed) shops before wandering in the direction of our hostel. To our surprise, another series of stalls lined one of the main roads on the outskirts of the centre: two lines and one main isle. On closer inspection, the stall sold everything you could possibly want, from souvenirs and toys to white goods and clothing. A great find, although after walking for about a kilometre and not getting to the end, we decided enough was enough and exited from the crowd (and boy, was there a crowd) to return to our hostel for a late lunch.

For the remainder of the afternoon we made contact with home and planned a little for our time in Peru - our next port of call and only a short bus ride away. A stroll to the supermarket (you never know when such conveniences will vanish) in the early evening was our final excursion and then we made sure we got as much information as possible from our host on what we could expect on our adventures the next day - very useful, especially in regards to buses. The next morning we were up at a decent time and breakfasted, ready for the (now short) walk to the bus station. Peru, here we come!

---