From the ´no mans land´ between the border of Bolivia and Chile we boarded a bus and after a 3 minute bumpy ride we were suddenly gliding along on a surfaced road with road markings, signs and barriers on sharp bends! The contrast was amazing and I felt like we had just glided back into civilization having survived the mental challenge, bone shaking desert tracks, high altitude, varying tempertures and strong winds of the Bolivian desert!
Unsurprisingly the Chile border was very strict (unlike any before and after) and like in an airport our bags were scanned. It was all very efficient though and in no time we were back on the bus heading for San Pedro de Atacama, a small hot and dusty desert town with a great civilized and hippy vibe. There were no longer any people dressed in traditional dress and no real signs of a life before 21st cnetury but the town had great restaraunts and great coffee which I had for too long missed.
I was picked up in town by the hostel guy named Roberto driving his old Volxwagon Van and I remember taking that as a good sign of things to come! As soon as I got to the hostel I was keen to contact family having had a hunch that my sister had gone into labour which turned out to be correct. Later that night whilst having dinner with friends I stopped the conversation to say that I thought my sister had just given birth (another hunch) and shortly afterwards I received a text saying that my nephew Charlie had just been born and I was now an aunty!
As the two friends who shared the trip across the salt flats with me left San Pedro the 2 Dragoman trucks arrived! Even though I had only left them 5 days beforehand it was lovely to see them all and have dinner before they left again in the morning.
New Years
The new years celebrations started with a BBQ which the hostel organised for clients consisting of 4 English, 4 French, 5 German, 1 Dutch and 1 Swiss and the family of Chileans. Earlier on that day I had wondered why many houses had guys outside along the roadside. Resembling a scene from Guy Fawkes night at home I discovered that at midnight they are burnt along with fireworks as part of a ritual to burn any negative energies from the previous year.
After the burning many of us jumped in the back of a pick up truck and sped through the softly lit streets making a lot of noise, to join many other people in town and find music.
Whilst I have paid much more in the past to enter London clubs on New Years Eve, all of the fellow travellers were not prepared to pay the extra fee to get into the night club so we found ourselves in a small free bar. Personally it was not lively enough for me and unsurprisingly I felt like dancing. Roberto and his friend felt the same so the 3 of us slipped out of the bar to do it as it should be done! The next thing I know I am on a podium in a club with only Chileans, not one other gringo in the whole place! It was a good atmosphere though and with Latino dance anthems pumping out, I woop wooped and drank far too much until it was time to walk home as the sun was rising.
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