Oasis amblings

As we walked to our 7am bus in the dawn of morning, a lot of people were still out and about. It has to be Latin America where people around at this time are probably finishing their night off, rather than starting their morning. The prostitute certainly was. The different times I just can't get used to in the limited time I have travelling - but will seeing a family with young kids out and about at 2am ever seem normal to me?

Despite wanting an overnight bus to save on accommodation prices and time, it was a good thing that we got a day time bus. The landscape became more stunning by the mile. Arid plains rose up to ridges and mountains featuring sheer walls of what appeared to be compacted mud with rocks scattered through them. A common feature in this soft ground were gunbarrel-like chutes carved into the exterior.

As we went over a pass at 4170m, the unthought of effects of altitude took their toll on Will, forcing him into the bus' toilet. It's where he stayed for much of the journey. We got some fresh air at the Argentinian border post, where (typically) we waited around for a bloody long time (in the sun, mind) to get processed. Will got a couple of minutes on the oxygen bottle, which at least came free, unlike some bar in La Paz (3660m) where you can pay to breathe pure oxygen for 10 minutes. Give me a drink any day.

In San Pedro de Atacama, Will was placed under the shade of a coolabah tree as I went and found some accommodation. The following afternoon, I set out on a tour to the Valle de la Luna. I'd never been in arid, desert environments like this before and the landscape continued to blow me away. At one of our stops in the valley, the ground was an intriguingly hard, bubbly surface, with traces of what appeared to be crystallised salt through it. It truly did remind me of being on the moon.

Rather than starting a tour to Bolivia via the Salar de Uyuni the following day, and going straight up to sleep above 4000m, Will set out to Geysers del Tatio for some acclimatisation. Meanwhile, I had an interesting morning in town, thanks to the ATM's (and my pocket) being devoid of money. A part of me enjoyed the logistics of currency conversions, wheelings and dealings I had to employ to pay for everything we needed to before skipping the country, but it was pretty frustrating at the same time. An oasis in one of the World's driest deserts, San Pedro thrives on tourism (though it certainly still has a local population). Prices are blown out of the sand, there is money everywhere - just not available for withdrawal!

Thanks to the goodwill and more complete pocket of Carmen though, I still managed to head out climbing that afternoon with her and our guide Pablo. We got a local bus to the little oasis town of Toconao, where a little gorge and stream ran through. The climbing was harder than what my unfamiliar body was ready for, but it was still great fun being back on the rock. The rock (Tova in Spanish) I'd not encountered before, it was like a heavily compacted mudstone - good friction and cool little pockets.

I was greeted back in town by Will, with the good news he'd come out one up against altitude, but the bad news our tour to Bolivia had been delayed a day. Later on though I jumped for joy when the ATM fulfilled my needs. And thus we spent another day and night in San Pedro. More time eating no meat - partly a meat hangover from the last steak, more so a precaution against a dodgy tummy at altitude. The hostel was nice - we had a great room on our last night that was accessed either through a pharmacy around the corner, or the girls toilets. San Pedro in general was a kind of cool, laid back place, but it's always hard to decipher between that and whether its touristy. It's touristy - but if you switch off your sensors, cook your own food and meet some good people it's pretty easy not to be disheartened.