San Pedro de Atacama 2: Desert done and dusted!

Day 3 in Atacama involved a 6am start for a full day tour to Las Piedras Rojas, which includes Lake Miscanti and Miniques and Salar de Talar/Aguas Calientes (Salt flats). Again, being the only english speaker on the bus, the tour was in Spanish. There really aren’t many english tourists that come here, which is actually quite nice! The landscape from start to finish was stunning, and the altitude didn’t seem to affect me much despite being over 4000m above sea level. At times I felt a little bit more out of breath than i normally would doing anything remotely strenuous (so probably what fat bastards experience on a day to day basis). The salt flats in particular for me were the most breathtaking. 

On my return I was in desperate need of a nice cold beer and so headed to Cervecería St Peters, where they brew their own. I ordered their speciality, rica rica pale ale (a herb grown in Chile) and paid £5 for the privilege, although the owner did give me a personal tour. Normally a beer in Chile costs around £3. I expected the country as a whole to be a lot cheaper than it is. For food and drink it’s more or less on a par with back home. Except for the Pisco Sours, which are only about £3-4 as opposed to £8-9. Which is why I find myself drinking so many of them. And also because they’re bloody delicious! 

On my tour that day I made friends with a Spanish (well, Catalan) girl called Clara who turned out to be on the same tour group as me every day. That night we met up with Alejandro (the tour rep who I instantly liked). On his recommendation we went to a bar called Barros where they had some really good live music. We ordered Pastel de Choclo to share, which is a typical Chilean pie filled with chicken, beef, onion, egg and covered with a dough made of soft corn. Words cannot describe how delicious it was, I could’ve demolished the whole thing myself! This is also where I made the mistake of drinking two pints (yes pints) of Piscola. Not the best idea when I had to get up at 4am the next day for another tour, but I stand by my choices. #YOLO. 

The bars in town close at 1am, with most people ending up in Lola (the karaoke bar I went to on my first night). It is actually illegal to dance in San Pedro de Atacama, I shit you not. This is because the town is said to be built on an ancient indigenous cemetery. My parents would have been arrested after 5 minutes in the town I know that for sure. They can’t be stopped. In Lola, the shutters are closed after a certain time at night so the police can’t see in. There’s your cultural snippet for the day!

Falling out of bed the next morning, I threw on the warmest clothes I had and set off on my first tour of the day, El Geyser de Tatio, where the temperature plummets. I love how you can be in various places, some only 10 minutes or so apart, and both the landscape and the temperature are completely different! We arrived in time for the sunrise, which made for some lovely photos. There was also the opportunity to bathe in the hot springs but I didn’t bother (it wasn’t a patch on the Blue Lagoon in Iceland!)

On the route back we stopped at some lovely spots, including Rio Putana, where they harvest cacti, and a small village called Machuche (where I purchased a goats cheese empanada). The photos really don’t to the landscape justice. It’s such a beautiful part of the country. 

For lunch I went to Ckunna, recommended to me by a few people for their Quinotto (risotto made with quinoa funnily enough). It was really tasty, as were there pisco sours. I’ve literally lost count of how many I’ve had since I’ve been here. I’ll need to seek out a decent one when I get home to Edinburgh otherwise I’ll get withdrawal symptoms. 

My next tour was at 4pm to visit Laguna Cejar. I’ve got tour fatigue at this point and I’m shattered. I’m going to need another holiday when this one is over in order to recover. I have to say this tour was probably the most disappointing. We visited a few of the lakes within a short distance of Atacama, one of which you can bathe in. The lake is heavily salted so you find yourself incredibly buoyant in the water and it’s difficult to keep yourself upright. When you emerge from the water you’re pretty much covered in salt. I wouldn’t recommend going in there if you have any cuts or scrapes!

I arrived back to town at 9pm to discover that the star gazing tour was on that night. I’ve been trying to go every night since I arrived but it’s been cancelled as the sky hasn’t been clear enough, so I was really lucky to be able to go on my last evening. It did mean yet another tour (15 hours worth in total to be exact that day). However, it was completely worth it as the stars here are incredible and I’ve never seen anything like it. The guide was really knowledgable and pointed out a lot of constellations, which personally I didn’t see. I think the Greeks were drinking too much ouzo at the time they named them. Anyway, it was the most amazing way to end my time in the desert! Now time for a 50 mile trek in Patagonia! 

San Pedro de Atacama: The desert might be dry but my glass certainly isn’t.

Swapping the city for the desert, I arrived in San Pedro de Atacama. The town itself is tiny, but I instantly took a liking to it, because there’s literally dogs everywhere. What I like about Chile is that, although they’re all strays, they’re all very well looked after. Often you will see stray dogs with red neckerchiefs. There was a dog that used to take part in the street protests in Chile back in 2010 and would constantly bark at the police. He was given the name Matapacos (mata meaning kill and paco being the derogatory term for police here, like pigs). This dog wore a red neckerchief, and although he’s now dead, this has become a symbol of protest. Another little cultural snippet for you. See, I don’t just spend my time eating and drinking!

When I arrived I set about getting all my tours booked and organised for the next few days. The streets are literally lined with different tour companies, hundreds of them. For someone who is incapable of making decisions, this created quite a dilemma for me. Remarkably, all 4 of the tour operators I spoke to did not speak english, which made me wonder how most people managed here. They probably don’t know where they hell they are most of the time. Eventually I found a guy that i liked and decided that his company, Eco Aventura, was worthy of my business. He said he’s been living here all his life and I was the first Scottish person he’d ever encountered. I told him that’s because most Scottish people prefer to get off their tits on cheap local alcohol in all inclusive resorts in the Costa del Sol. The majority of European tourists in Chile are actually German and French (I cant seem to get away from them).

For dinner I went to a restaurant called Adobe and ordered camarones al pil pil (chilli garlic prawns with roast potato wedges) washed down with, you guessed it, a Pisco Sour. It was pretty damn delicious. For dessert I popped next door to Babalu for ice cream choosing hoja de coca (coca leaf) and chanar. Don’t worry mum, it has none of the potency. 

Then I went across the road to the only real “pub” in the village called Chela Cabur and had a beer, because that’s all they serve.


I then ended up in a karaoke bar called Lola. Chilenos should really stick to making wine, because it sounded like one of the stray cats was being strangled. Anyway, a semi attractive guy walks in and sits next to me at the bar. Well, did I not make the mistake of asking him what he was drinking! 🤦🏼‍♀️ I couldn’t get rid of him. And the more he drank the creepier he became. Seriously I’m like a beacon for creepy bastards. If I got this much attention in Scotland I’d be married 5 times over and my mum would be off my case!

His name was Branco and worked in the mines close to Atacama (and no he wasn’t one of the ones stuck in there)!  He was in town for a few days holiday. He got up to sing, but asked me to video him and send him it later given his camera was “broken”. I’m guessing this was a ploy to get my number. He insisted on buying me a tequila (you’d think I’d have learnt my lesson by now) and offered to take me out for a “romantic candlelit meal” the night after. He was supposed to leave for home the next day but said he’d stay if I asked him to. I did not ask him to! I don’t know how I get myself into these situations!

Day 2 started with breakfast at a bakery called La Franchuteria. You’re instantly hit with the smell of freshly baked croissants, is there any better smell on this earth? This set me up nicely for my next activity where I rented a bike and did a 4 hour round trip to el quebrada del Diablo (devils canyon ) which is a gorge a few miles outside of the town. My ass was crying out about two miles in, as it made for a bumpy ride, but it was worth it for the views. I returned to town for a well deserved pizza at El Churrua, which I’d heard good things about. It was fine, but not a patch on my dad’s homemade creations!

That afternoon I did The Valley of the Moon tour which involved hiking up some sand dunes. I’m regretting my 4 hour bike ride at this point. But again, the views at the top are incredible. I’d tell you why it was given it’s name, but I don’t want to insult your intelligence. 


From here we visited las tres (three) marias, which is basically a rock formation that looks like some women, and another one that is argued to look like either Pac-Man or a dinosaur. You can make up your own mind. As you can see in the photo, there are now only 2.5 marias because some arrogant tourist leaned on one of the rocks years ago and it fell over. I’ll give you one guess what nationality they were...🇫🇷🤣. This is where I hate organised group tours as we were given 15 minutes to admire the formations. I don’t need 15 minutes to take a photo of a bloody rock pal! 

We finished the tour watching the sunset over Valley of Death. When we arrived back in town I had a quick dinner at La Casona (shit service and mediocre food) before heading back to my hotel. I know that many of you have expressed concern at the state of my liver. I can assure you that today I only had ONE pisco sour, due to a 5am start tomorrow!

Tune in on Saturday for the next posting! 

Valparaiso: Paradise my arse

Crime infested, dilapidated piss-smelling shithole, or bohemian cultural epicentre of Latin America? Verdict: a bit of both!  

In the end, Valparaiso won me over. When I arrived I instantly took a disliking to the place, but that’s probably because the bus drops you off a couple of miles outside the centre in a very run down and dodgy part of town. Plus, I’d read and heard too many bad stories about tourists being robbed and I think it instantly made me feel uncomfortable walking the little streets and alleys. A lot of tourists don’t visit here out of fear. But, like anywhere, as long as you keep your wits about you and don’t put yourself in risky situations, there’s no reason to worry. And I certainly didn’t experience or see any trouble while i was there. 

To learn more about the city, and so as not to wander on my own, I joined a free walking tour. There’s so much amazing street art in Valparaiso, so a lot of the tour focusses on the messages behind this, with the political situation obviously taking centre stage. 


The city is very run down and rough around the edges. But it does have a certain charm, given all of the colourful houses dotted around the hills.

That evening I did a bar tour with a local, Victor. We started with a pisco sour in Cafe Vinilo, the oldest Pisco bar of Valparaiso, before heading to a local bar called El Canario where we were lucky enough to enjoy some live music. Not a tourist in sight in this place, which I liked. It’s here that we bump into two of his friends, Eduardo and his Mexican friend Mara. This is where my downhill spiral commences. Victor leaves around 10 and I decide to carry on with my new best pals (who I was assured were very trustworthy people). By this point I’ve completely changed my mind about Chilenos. When you get to know them on a personal level, they’re lovely people. The locals tell me they appear cold and unfriendly due to years of oppression (given the country was once a dictatorship). 

Fast forward a couple of hours and it’s a lock in. We finish our beer and Eduardo offers to drop me back to my hotel in his van. At this point I have to choose between the lesser of two evils. Get in the van with Mara and Eduardo (who is clearly under the influence) or walk home alone and risk violent robbery. I chose option 1. As soon as we’re in the car, Eduardo insists on a city tour. So we swing by Mara’s house, pick up a hip flask full of Mexican tequila, and head for the hills to admire the view and chat shit before he drops me home at 230. I love evenings like this, when you end up on a totally random unplanned adventure. I’m glad I speak Spanish, as this would never have happened otherwise. 

I paid for this decision the next morning. Turns out pisco sour, red wine, craft beer and tequila is not a good mix. Who knew. The 2 hour bus journey back to Santiago was horrific and I spent most of it debating where I could possibly puke should it be necessary (I settled on the front compartment of my backpack, but thankfully the need didn’t arise!)