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Published: December 3rd 2008
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After leavingthe desert we headed further North along the coast. Chile is only 400km at its widest point and we wanted to get to Peru eventually, so a trip further up the coast was the order of the day. I wanted to head to a place called Iquique as the surf was meant to be really good and after all of the bus travelling that we had done recently it would be nice to chill out in one place for a while, just to catch our breath.
Our hostel was very traditional in the sense of hostal places, situated close to the beach with many non aqua orientated games and entertainment to keep you occupied at any time of the day. We had pool for the evening, wiff waff for the day and if any of your senses still had some life then you could either veg in front of the TV or email your loved ones back home. On the evening of our arrival the average age of the guests was about 18 or 19 and we were shown into the smallest twin room imaginable, but it was clean and comfy. As you can imagine the rolling walls of
water outside took my attention most mornings and afternoon, and the swell was predicted to grow from a solid 5ft to somwhere off the chart.
As you travel through several countries or places you build up a bit of a routine, it is probably only natural. So we ventured out into town looking for a local supermarket to get some supplies and to have a look around. During this process we forgot to drop our breadcrumbs like Hansel and Gretal and ended up getting completely lost on the way back. As Iquique is backed by an enormous cliff, off which it launches numerous paragliders off daily, it acted as our point of reference to get us home.
Waking to bright sunshine peering through the blinds of our room brought a invigorating feeling, so after a quick dip in the sea we were off around the town looking for the sites that had been mentioned in the LP. The town center contains the tradional tourist fodder that you would expect but the people that sell it seem to combine more charm than other places that we have been. We had been looking for a possible restaurant when a burst
of excitement erupted from the city. It was a Saturday and anyone who has taken the decision to drive past Ninian Park just after they have let the fans out would know the sense of claustrophobia. Well we had it Chilian style, the local team had just gained promotion, it meant that everyone in the town was driving around with the colours of the team attached to their various wagons, beeping their horns. Now I don´t mean a quiet little toot that you might give to a friend to catch their attention but constant noise, beeeping, flares, cheering and a general outburst of South American emotion. It seemed even more heart felt than some of their soap operas and that it saying somthing. The only problem was that it made it a bit of mine field to walk around, so we decided to get some dinner and then retire to the hostel.
The hostel had its own bar which made it easy for us to either bring back some Camenere to dull the ache left from the still constant car noise. The party was just getting started for some people as they rode their trucks through the town, we
actually saw one guy fall of the back of a pick up in a king of Benny Hill sketch kind of way.
We woke again feeling well rested and cursed the group of young backpackers that had come in drunk in the early hours of the morning, the youth of today eh? After our brekkie we decided to go on the hunt for the local bus station and try to set up our ticket out of there. We ended up walking around the town in circles for quite some time which showed our directional sense was not improving at all. On our return the young aspect of the hostel had moved out and more older, respectable types had come in which allowed us to feel a bit more at home, and then they upgraded us to a better room. I have to say that the place although a little too youth club like, was lovely, with a small roof terrace, 100m away from the beach, so things were not at all bad. We had secured our tickets further north during the day and so we would leave the next morning to continue our adventure.
During our stay the
surf had increased as promised, so for all the surfers out there, Iquique is made up of 7 reefs that hug the coastline and a beach break with golden sand and a mixture of general house waste. The coast was dominated by the large waves which peaked on the last day with tow in surfing occuring no more than 50m away, one local stated that the waves were 12m. Wheather that was true or he had been smoking too much of his Jamaican rollies I don´t know, but it made for impressive viewing. I got in the water on a reef that was about 8ft only for a local guy to ask me if I had any "cohunies", perhaps he was trying to scare the gringo. Either way he did not have to try to hard, it was not the most confotable that I have felt in the water.
Back in the hostal we dinnered with some nice people and then shared stories, wine and travel tales with an eclectic group from NZ, America and Ireland. A bit of a sore head in the morning but the early start and local taxi legend sorted us out. Iquique has lots
of charm, the people are very friendly and the surf rocks, so pack the bags and get on the bus.
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