Our plans for our final morning’s expedition changed twice - the unexpected rain meant various routes were now too dangerous. So Jemima and I (minus Kevin, who decided to walk into town instead) teamed up with Jacob (English) and Tory (Canadian), both young doctors and experienced hikers who did medical school in the UK and now worked in Toronto - Jacob specialises in poisons, which Jemima LOVED, given her current murder mystery addiction - they had a long conversation about arsenic and strychnine.
This was our most physical hike yet - clambering over rocks, clinging to handholds, with fairly big up and downs into a cactus-lined canyon with a river gushing down the middle (Tory is 6 months pregnant, but still put me to shame…).
We had the wonderful Carolina again, and she taught us this time about the huge cardones cactuses we’d seen in Argentina - they only grow 1cm per year, so some can be 1000 years old; the insides include a woody layer used by local people for building (although they’re protected now, so they can only be used if they die naturally).
We could only do the first third of the hike unfortunately - normally it would involve hopping across the river to navigate down the canyon on both sides, but the river was too high. So we went back the way we came, Jemima leading again, and instead went up to a mirador (viewpoint) with incredible 360 degree views over the desert. Jemima and I built a cairn - they’re all over the landscape here; we had an unexpected but never unwelcome second breakfast, including vicuña salami, and returned to base to meet up with Kevin, who’d had a lovely time exploring the town.
All the exertion of the last few days was now hitting me - I was feeling very tired. So after lunch and a rest in bed we decided to cancel our final planned exploration - a bike ride around the oasis - and walk into town instead (Jemima bribed with an ice cream from San Pedro’s famous ice cream place, Babalú). The skies were looking ominous but we decided to risk it minus umbrellas or rain jackets…
It was only 10 mins to the main pedestrianised street, running the gauntlet of the many (friendly) dogs roaming around. It was clearly set up as a tourist destination, with tour organisers next to tat shops next to restaurants with people outside trying to tempt you in, but it was still very picturesque - all the shops had carved wooden signs, and it was very tidy and well-kept. We found the main square and the church - the second oldest in Chile, originally dating from 1557, with its beautiful cactus wood gates and roof. You could also see the ubiquitous triangles on the wall surrounding the church yard.
Another of my favourite Carolina stories: you see this triangle, or a three stepped pyramid, everywhere in San Pedro. Apparently it has two meanings: first, of course, the volcano, which has a huge ceremonial role for the village (local people were buried facing the volcano, and each one has some sort of ritual place on it, either at the base or the top). And second, it’s a reference to the Andean trilogy: first, the condor, representing the sky and the spirit world; second, the mountain lion (puma), representing the material world, and human and animal kind; and finally the snake, representing the underground rivers, and death. I love that this symbolism is not only tops most of the walls round here, but also those surrounding the church…
We took a walk through a passageway lined with llamas, blankets and local herbs for sale, Jemima and I on the hunt for a fluffy vicuña to bring home, like we’d seen in Purmamarca. While we were meandering, the threatened rain came with a vengeance, with a thundering on the corrugated plastic roof. We took our time choosing, hoping it would slacken, while stallkeepers frantically moved stock away from the drips.
When the worst was over we took our chances, me picking my way through the muddy puddles in my Birkenstocks (definitely not dressed for this), heading for shelter in the ice cream shop. This was just as good as had been promised - even having vegan ice cream for me! We walked back through the drizzle while we ate, and just made it home before the heavens opened properly again.
We’d made friends with Gerry, a nice American travelling on his own, so had asked him to join us for dinner for our last night. He’d narrowly escaped being struck by lightning on his trek that afternoon (“this is very dangerous”, said his guide, as they started on the final flat stretch of their hike, with lightning landing all around them - “go quickly”). This turned into an evening of incredible stories as this was only his 5th most life-threatening experience, after being caught up in riots in Egypt in the 70s, nearly being kidnapped by the Shining Path in Peru, and nearly being stranded in the jungle with unfriendly military in Burma.
Sadly the weather meant our final experience - viewing the night sky from Explora’s observatory - was cancelled, because of the cloud cover. This is supposed to be an amazing place for astronomy because of the lack of light pollution - and clear skies. Ah well, next time…
Driest place on earth?! Not for us! But it’s still been an incredible experience.*
* For factual accuracy: the driest place on earth is actually the MIDDLE of the Atacama Desert, which hasn’t seen rain in over 500 years. But this level of rainfall is still very unusual for San Pedro…
Flooded road:
The cactus canyon hike:
Alive above, dead below so you can see the “wood”:
Climbing:
Hiking buddies:
Heading back:
Cairn balancing:
Snack with a view:
San Pedro de Atacama:
The Catholic church with the pagan wall:
Cactus wood gate and ceiling:
Ice cream and puddles:
Rainbow over the wildflowers outside our bedroom window:
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