Arica (Norte Grande)

The next day, I dragged my duffle bag through the dirt streets of San Pedro to the bus station, and bought a ticket to Calama, which would be the first leg of my trip to Arica, the second leg being a flight from Calama down to Santiago, and the third leg being a flight from Santiago way up to Arica.  It seems a bit of a round about way of getting from Calama to Arica, but the only way to fly to Arica is through Santiago, and I needed to use my return ticket that was previously set to go from Antofagasta to back to Santiago.  

Traveling between towns via bus in Norte Grande is very easy, and typically does not require reservations or any sort of planning, as there are usually busses leaving every few minutes to the destination of your choice.  And the busses are actually quite nice . . . 

When I got to Calama, I ubered from the bus station to the hotel, and experienced my first luxury in Chile.

It was a little too early to check-in, so I dropped off my bags at reception, and decided to explore the city for a bit.  I came across a cool alley filled with shops . . .

. . . and located that ever elusive Blockbuster that I have been searching for for the last 4 years . . .

I also found a Chinese restaurant that I would ultimately have dinner at that night.  I have to say that I have never met a Spanish speaking Chinese person.  The owner did not, of course, speak English, but I managed to order the Mongolian chicken dish.

Walking through Calama reminded me of the crazy crosswalks in Santiago (I had not seen a stop light since I left Santiago).  The blinking man in the crosswalk sign does not mean you can continue walking safely--it means that you better start running.  I am not a slow walker by any means, and I could not walk quickly enough in the crosswalk before the light for the cross-traffic turned green.  I felt like I should be like the Rainman and turn around and walk back every time I saw the blinking man.  But honestly, I like it that way as one of my pet peeves are lackadaisical pedestrians.  They should shorten the crosswalk lights in California. 

I had a restful day and peaceful sleep in my own private room with my very own private shower (wow), and woke up the next day to have both breakfast and lunch in the hotel cafeteria as a plugged away at my computer.  This day was going to be a long one as I had I would arrive in Santiago at 10pm, and then fly out the next morning at 4am to Arica.  There would be little to no sleep.

At the airport in Santiago I happened to run into an American tourist (only 1 of 2 that I have met thus far) that went on the sand boarding tour with me in San Pedro.  We had both flown from Calama (not sure if on the same flight) to Santiago, but he was heading South to Patagonia, and I was heading North to Arica.  We hung out a bit before my flight left at 4am.  Small world.  

It turns out that I only slept 2 hours on the airplane,  I got into Arica around 7am, and Ubered it to the hostel, which was a bit hippiesh for me, but very spacious--and I slept in a big room by myself.  I dropped my bags off, and explored the town.  Three things struck me right away--the town was a bit dilapidated and rundown; there were a lot of health nuts jogging around; and the cars were very mindful of the pedestrians, pretty much slamming on the brakes while putting on their hazard lights at each crosswalk that had pedestrians.  I have never seen anything like it. 

I decided to walk northward, because it wasn't enough for me to be in the northernmost city in Chile.  I had to be the northernmost point in Chile.  Later I would walk southward to downtown, which you can barely see in this picture.

While walking I came across several shrines of persons that were killed on the road.  We sort of have the same thing in America, except instead of putting crosses or flowers at the locale, Chileans put full on shrines.  This is not specific to Arica, but is a common practice all over Chile.

Perhaps this is a good reason why everyone in Arica is very mindful of pedestrians as they have to drive by these shrines everyday.

I misjudged how far the border was my hostel.  I though it was only a couple miles, but I had probably walked 3 miles, and based on my google maps, I had about 5 miles to go.  I decided at then and there that being in the northernmost city, as opposed to the northernmost point, would be good enough.  Besides, the airport is actually located on the border, so I guess I already was at the northernmost point.

But it was good that I started walking back as I had an impromptu teleconference call that I had to make, and my hostel was the best place to do it.  So, I made the long trek back to my hostel just in time to make the teleconference call, and I took a much needed nap right after.

After my nap, I ventured out, and went downtown, not really expecting to see much, and just looking forward to a tour that I had booked earlier.  But I ended seeing some pretty nice scenery, and doing some cool things.

I came upon a nice location that had a giant rock that looked like the Rock of Gibraltar, and a wharf surrounded by coral.  The sun was a few minutes from setting, so I just hung out on the coral reef and took it all in.

I was starving and hadn't really eaten all day, so after the sun set, I ducked into a nice restaurant that happened to have a buffet and . . . karaoke.  I requested to sit by the window, so that I can finish taking in the view of the ocean and whatever was left of the sunset.

As I was finishing up my last serving, and on my third Pisco sour, karaoke started, and the DJ walked up to me and asked me if I wanted to sing.  I hesitated, but eventually said sure thing.  He asked me what I wanted to sing, which I had to think about, because I wanted to sing something that the crowd knew.  I noticed that Chileans do like hard rock, and do not know much about 70s (John Denver, Elton John, etc.), so I decided on Metallic's Sandman, then Aerosmith's Dream On, and then Guns and Roses' Sweet Chile of Mine.  All great selections.

I sung many more songs that night.  As the night wore on, I noticed that there was a couple sitting at a table, the woman (Mely) singing Spanish songs, and the man (Richard) singing English songs.  I was amazed at the range of songs that Richard knew, so after I finished singing a song, I took the liberty of sitting down at their table.  It turns out that he is a drummer in a local band that plays English language songs.  He is also an optical fiber engineer that works for Tyco.  

So we all took turns singing karaoke, sometimes individually, sometimes as a trio.  They have three children, and have been married for 26 years.  Even still, Mely kept proclaiming how she was still in love with Richard.  It was refreshing to see, and somewhat inspiring as well.  That is how love should be.   

We closed the place down at about 2am, and Richard drove me back to my hostel, which was nice as it would have been a 45 minute walk.  I promised that I would see him tomorrow at the restaurant, but in hindsight, I was a bit too ambitious with that promise, as I had to get up at 6am the next morning for the tour, and I was operating on very little sleep.

So I did wake up for my tour to see the highlands (antiplanicos).  This was the first (but will not be the last) Spanish-only tour, so I did not understand a lot of the background and history, but I did take in some beautiful sites.

I also saw some alpacas (as opposed to llamas).

Once I got back to my hostel, I took a much needed shower that started nice and hot, but ended pretty cold.  I guess I should stop dilly dallying in the shower from now on.  

I was looking forward to meeting Richard and Mely later that night at the bar, but around about midnight, I passed out.  I had run my body ragged, and it revolted against me.  

The spirit was willing, but the flesh was weak.

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