Travelogue

Having waved goodbye to the rest of the group I was suddenly feeling lonely. For some reason I had a different transfer ticket to the others and to my dismay no-one seemed to have a clue as to when the bus would show. Remembering that I had to get a exit stamp from Bolivia I went into the immigration hut and handed over my passport. It soon became apparent that something was missing, the departure card. I soon realised where it was: with Sandra in our document folder! This seemed to be really important and the army immigration Officer wasn’t looking impressed with my explanation of “No Tengo”. With a shake of his head he disappeared for a few moments to leave me to reflect on my fate but soon returned and said he could give me the exit stamp without the departure card for 50 Bolivianos!

Well I’ve got to hand it to him, he put a real good show on of how important this bit of paper was to leave the country, but 50 Bolivianos would make it alright!! It could have been worse really and as luck would have it I had exactly that amount on me. The only thing that annoyed me was I could have got the exit stamp for 20 Bolivianos before starting the tour in Uyuni. Though I didn’t know that at the time and I presume there would have still been an issue with the missing departure card.

All sorted I ventured outside and one look around confirmed that I was the only one left waiting at the border. I’m suddenly transported back to my childhood when I used to be the last kid waiting for his mum! [Don't worry Ma, all's forgiven!].

Suddenly, seemingly out of nowhere, I saw a figure looking as stranded as me. I went over and before I reached a voice said “Please tell me you’re going to Chile?” with this we both started laughing, more in relief than anything else, and this is how I met Vicky. It turned out we both had the same transfer ticket and so felt better about waiting at this desolate out-post. Soon though a truck pulled up and the driver went into chat to the immigration officer. After a short time they both came out and started speaking in Spanish to us both. Unfortunately Vicky’s Spanish was as good as mine so it was a bit tricky to make out what they were saying, though this was the jist - “No more buses today but we could hitch a ride in the pickup to San Pedro de Attacama [Chile]“.

After much confusion we both decided to risk it and threw our backpacks into the back and hopped in. 5 minutes down the road we saw a bus coming towards us and on close inspection it was ours! With this the driver pulled over and motioned for us to get out. He didn’t seem to understand my request to kindly drive us back to the Bolivian border! So we had a bit of a hike back but as luck would have it it was our bus, though we’d have to wait while the driver fed the passengers he’d brought who were doing the opposite tour to us. One hour later we were again on our way. We now felt quite privileged as we had a whole bus to ourselves!

The drive was mostly down hill as we descended from Bolivia’s high altitude and as such it started to become much warmer. Just before the border the driver turned around and mentioned that we weren’t allowed to take any Coca leaf or any plants (including souvenirs made from reeds and palms) through into Chile. Well I was OK as I used all my Coca up on the treks (with loads of help from the last guide we had) and I didn’t buy any souvenirs made from reeds or palms but Vicky was looking a bit concerned. She handed one bag of Coca leaves over to the driver, who promptly threw it out the window, handed over a boat made from reeds and palms but she couldn’t remember if she had any more Coca leaves stashed in her backpack! On reaching the Chilean border we got our passports stamped and had to have our bags scanned. Vicky went first and there were no problems, although I did notice the guards weren’t really paying attention. When my bag went through they stopped it, studied the monitor screen, reversed it, had a conversation while glancing over at me, then put it back through the scanner and finally waved me on - no idea what that was about, maybe just for show?? Still we’d finally made it into Chile, and it was hot! On reflection maybe it was me sweating in a big hoody that made them suspicious??

We reached San Pedro de Attacama roughly 15 minutes later and took a short stroll into the center to find a hostel. It didn’t take us long to find Residencial Vilacoyo which seemed charming and within both budgets. We had a room each for 7000 pesos (roughly 980 to the GBP). Mine was a 3 bed dorm all to myself so I could really spread out! After a lovely hot shower I took a stroll around town, which after a month in Bolivia felt like paradise. San Pedro de Attacama looked and felt like a kind of Mediterranean town with it’s sunshine, white buildings, tiny streets and slow pace. Just my kind of town and after checking my emails I would have two more days of doing nothing but swinging in a hammock while waiting for Sandy - it sure is a hard life at times but hey, if someones got to do it, you can count me in!