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Published: September 11th 2006
Our journey heading north out of San Pedro started off in a strange manner as it was a different type of service to that offered in Bolivia. The Chilean buses are a direct copy of an airline service, equipped with reclining seats and air conditioning.
We arrived in Arica the next morning following a few hours of neck-cricking sleep, got breakfast and caught a bus to Putre, 3 hours inland. This didn't go exactly to plan as we discovered when the bus stopped and we were ordered off the bus at a crossroads in the middle of nowhere. Despite a long argument with the bus driver, by Lucy anyway as my Spanish was limited to asking the driver if I could have my steak medium rare, we were left stranded. From a sign we were able to see it was 4km to Putre, this doesn't sound too bad but the road was up and down hills, we had massive rucksacks and having to walk it at 4000m. We started walking with the intention of hitching but Putre is such a tiny village so there were no cars. Fortunately just as frustration and exhaustion were about to set in a police pick-up truck came round and they gave us a lift to town. Unfortunately as they don't have to obey laws they drove as fast as the car could go on mountain roads sending me and Lucy sprawling around the back, a couple of bends I had to cling on to Lucy to make sure she didn't fall out.
Putre and the Lauca National Park was worth all the effort though. They call it a town but to name it a village would be an exaggeration. As always though it still had a full size football pitch. The next day we headed out with Gustino in his car and the usual South American collection of pan-pipe tapes and went exploring the park. Unlike the salt flats tour this was a much smaller area and Putre was only a few miles outside it so we spent very little time in the car and spent most of our time walking round lakes and hills taking photos of the volcanoes and animals. The views were fantastic and it seemed well worth the long bus journeys. We visited an even smaller village, Parinacota (unsure of the total population but there were only 9 children) that were getting ready for a religious festival. Being South America, the religious preperations included a football match against another village. Despite the pitch being a dust bowl and there being only about 15 spectators (outnumbered by watching llamas) there was still a full band with drum, trumpet and pan-pipes cheering them on. From here we finished a long day in the hot springs on the edge of town.
From Putre we headed back to Bolivia and La Paz. Crossing the border we discovered Lucy was bringing in practically everything that was considered contraband excluding cocaine. Its suprising how many border regulations can be broken by a cheese & tomato sandwich, yoghurt and a couple of bananas. We thought of declaring it or seperating it into condoms and swallowing them for future retrieval but in the end we hid them under a jumper. This could be the start of a promising traffiking career.
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Jackie Fishface
non-member comment
Great to catch up
Just read all your journals - absolutely bloody fantastic. The whole office want to know what I am laughing about. Sounds like an amazing experience - totally jealous. Look after yourselves. I will be continuing to log in for the next hilarious installment.