San Pedro de Atacama arrival

The long bus ride to San Pedro de Atacama was relatively uneventful. We had to get out once about halfway, after six hours of traveling, for a customs inspection. It was 4 a.m. and the "inspection" consisted of the guards unzipping our bags. Then we put them back on the bus and went on our merry way.

At 8:30 a.m. we stopped in Calama so they could clean out the toilet. Allison and I saw a stray dog dancing on his hind legs while begging for treats. Everyone is hustling here.

Soon after we got back on the bus, the driver's Gilligan came back and spoke to Allison. He asked if she'd like to come up front and take pictures. She modestly asked if everyone would get a turn. "No, just you." She was kind enough to take me along for the privilege.

The desert and highway at sunrise was pretty beautiful. It was one strip of asphalt through brown desert. I propped myself up in the stairwell, leaning against the door, while Al was installed in Giligan's seat. She chatted with the driver while I looked out the window and tried to catch words.

I was proud to make myself understood in Spanish when I asked about the "little churches" on the sides of the highways. The driver told us they are "animitas," memorials to people killed in accidents along the highway. There are a lot of accidents. Some of the animitas are built near the crumpled skeletons of the vehicles involved in the accidents. The driver told us many people over use and burn out their brakes on the long descents and at the bottom, crash. He showed us one where three kids had been killed when an out of control bus hit their truck. These memorials would make a great photo project.

At about 10 a.m., after a twelve hour bus ride, we arrived in San Pedro de Atacama. The town is the epicenter for the "gringo trail," extending from one end of Chile to the other. It's appropriate though, San Pedro sits within day trip distance of some of the most amazing landscapes I have ever seen. The town itself is all adobe desert pueblo, dirt streets, broken bottles and thorns top courtyard walls, very dry, and all the doors open.

We took a taxi over to our hotel. It's a little strange to be taking a taxi in a dirt road town maybe a half-mile across, but that's how it works.

At Hostal Quinta Adela, a woman maybe in her 40s greeted us and her father, Señor Jaime, came out to chat and make sure we were comfortable. They set up a breakfast table for us in the courtyard with bread, meat, orange marmalade and the ubiquitous instant coffee. Their cat came and sat with us. It was a perfect reception.

The Quinta Adela is a family hotel. Later we learned from Señor Jaime and his wife that they have five children and once all the kids grew up, they renovated the family home as a hotel and began taking in guests to fill their empty nest. They really did make us feel at home (for $60/night, but you gotta make a living too). We were very happy to be here.

We walked the 200 yards into the town center, got some lunch, and arranged our tours for the following days. That afternoon we'd see the Valles de Muerte and La Luna. The following day up to the Salar de Atacama and high lakes, then an early morning trip out to the Tatio Geysers, and finally a trip out to the Frenchman's house for stargazing. It would be a full several days.