Tatio Geysers

The alarm went off at 3:30 a.m. I felt kinda sick, headache, mild hangover, that kind of thing. I figured I'd get over it quickly, since it was only three drinks.

We waited inside the locked gate, as advised by the señora. A guy drove up in a pickup and said the bus would be along shortly. Apparently North Americans are always on time so he had come to check on us. Others are not. I sat down on the couch outside. The sky was beautiful dark and full of stars.

The bus rolled up and we met our guide for the day, Eduardo the Argentinian. He used "vos." I'd never heard that before outside of Spanish class. We squeezed in to the bus' back row next to the large German and his girlfriend. It was very tight.

Eduardo explained that the Tatio Geysers were 100 kilometers (62 miles) away and it would take two hours to get there, so go ahead and have a nap. I pulled my hat down over my eyes and tried to sleep.

This has to be close to the worst bus ride I've ever been on. The bus rocked violently from side to side, like a boat in a hurricane. The rocking was when it was not bouncing like mad over rutted dirt tracks. I don't know which was worse. Two hours of this?! Every once in a while the driver would have to get out and check the wheels. Did he wonder if they were going to come off? The bus alternately swayed or vibrated, sometimes both, the windows were completely iced over, it was black black outside, and I scrunched next to Allison directly over the rear wheel. I kept looking at my watch thinking "I'm not going to be sick, only 1 hour (45 minutes, 40 minutes, 38 minutes, etc.) to go." Suddenly I went from freezing cold to very hot and sweaty. I grew up on a boat and have NEVER been motion sick in my life. I'll spare you the details.

Finally. FINALLY we stopped at the entrance to Tatio. FINALLY. I was happy and relieved to stand on earth. This was a bathroom and park entry fee stop. Al paid the fee. I went to the bathroom. Frozen pipes as usual. Sorry about that, next guy in line.

I felt a little bit better. We rode on down to the geysers. The sun was coming up. Eduardo put some milk into a bubbling pool to warm up as he explained the geography of the area. Magma heats a rock surface that heats the water that then bubbles up or spouts from the ground under our feet. There were volcanoes all around. Chile has something like 40% of the world's active volcanoes.

It was freezing. No, sorry, well below freezing. Minus 15 Celsius. That's 5 degrees Fahrenheit. I was not dressed for it. Allison made mommy eyes at me, worrying. I made some mate de coca, got on the bus to warm up for a few minutes, and felt a little more better. Mate makes a headache go away. That was nice. I wish we could have brought some coca leaves back with us, but don't think the government would have been too happy about that.


The geysers are beautiful. Again, there are no railings and paths in Chilean national parks. Eduardo just said, "don't get closer than three meters" and told us about the French guy who lost all his skin when he fell in. Thank you Chile for not making all of your beautiful places idiot-proof. The world could use fewer idiots. One safety concession they had made was to spell out "NO" with an arrow next to the big geyser. This was after the French guy incident. I think he died.

We had pretty much free reign to walk wherever we wanted. Bubbling algae pools, frosted grass rising from boiling water, hot steam everywhere, sunrise over the mountains ringing us in. It was worth it, but I would have preferred to teleport in.

Eduardo was sipping his own mate through an elaborate metal straw from the coolest silver cup I've ever seen. He asked if I'd like to try it and I did. It tasted like tobacco. Not really my cup of tea (HA!). He said he loved the stuff and could never keep enough in the house. Maybe he got in trouble for drinking it all as a kid or something. I'm still working on my Spanish. Allison said I should be flattered, sharing mate is a social custom for friends in this part of the world. So I was flattered.

We did not get in the "swimming pool," a large thermal bath made by workers when they used to mine sulfites here. It was just too cold. Some people did, while others gawked, and said it was really nice. Maybe next time, in summer.

Later we stopped at Machuca, a tiny Indian village. It has fifty total inhabitants, and ten in the winter. The government had built everyone here houses. At this point I felt like I could eat something and bought a sopapilla from the old woman frying them up. It was pretty good.Al tried the grilled llama. I had a bite and it was muy rico. Mmmm. Still freezing cold, I kept drinking the coca tea and shivering inside the small room where the lady was making food. She yelled at a German woman who took her picture. Ask first, and pay.

Polish doctor Janik happened to be here too, with another tour. He was leaving that evening from San Pedro and we exchanged addresses. Or I should say I gave him mine when he asked for it. Maybe we'll hear from him.

We peeked through the locked gate at Mahuca's church, roaming cats made friends with Allison, and we got back in hell bus, which was much less hellish now that it was light outside and the road was only terrible, a lot like Atlanta's roads but unpaved.

Eventually we made our way back to San Pedro. Allison went on a pharmacy hunt for some unexpectedly difficult to find necessities and I walked back to the room to take a nap.