After
our breakfast/planning session this morning we decide on a tour of
the pre-cordillera, which we reckon to be a good day’s drive across
good and not-so-good roads, passing a number of small villages on
the way.
First stop is a visit to a petrol
station in Arica to make sure we leave with a full tank. Then we try
to find the famous Panamerican highway, ruta no.5 in Chile, which
runs the length of America, from Alaska to the south of Chile. Carry
on past the hotel and we follow a coastal road, one lane each way,
along a few “playas deportivos”. Then the road runs out on us –
we’re making a habit of this! Ness starts laughing on the way back –
turns out we need to head back into town and pick up the Panam
there.
Second attempt works better. Soon
we’re heading out of town, past the sign “fin zona urbana”. Very
rapidly the roadside gets emptier and emptier until there is nothing
except a brown valley with towering brown hills on either side. Not
surprisingly, there is the odd truck, bus or car.
We pass a prison
complex, in construction but operational. The “social rehabilitation facility” has
echoes of the Pinochet era. Then we gradually start to climb the hill on
our right. Below us on the valley floor is an odd assortment, in a grid
pattern, of what look like shacks, but not a clue as to its
former or present purpose. The road is wide and tarmac’d, with three
lanes, two going up, one for slow traffic, with run-offs provided for
out-of-control traffic coming down, reassuring! They look recently
used. One has an army jeep with five or six lads in desert camouflage slacks poring over the bonnet. We swap driving Basher a bit further
along, Ness happy to get acquainted with Basher properly at last.
“It’s a f*cking monster Stef!”
Pretty soon Ness is settled in and I
get to enjoy the views. We are in a special place here. Big country
doesn’t even begin to describe it. We have climbed quite a way and are
now on a plateau. The horizon is wide, in any direction.
Just the brown, ochre and yellow colours of dust, rocks and sand.
On the first stretch we pass a few
billboards, facing the other way, for drivers heading towards Arica.
One says “aah, paté”. Further along there is nothing but the strip
of the tarmac, the desert plateau, and our car.
Either before or after this plateau,
maybe there were several, we climb then descend, towards the Caleta
Vitor, another valley. This one has a few green bushes but so sparse
and no sign of farms. Then climb again. Ness is driving, focused on
keeping us on the road, I’m looking left and right, grateful to see
these places. Right now it feels like the most natural thing to do,
driving (being driven, sorry!) a monster-jeep down the Panam through
some of the most inhospitable country anywhere. At least if we do
break down here there will be someone along pretty soon. There is no
apparent danger. How can any place be this empty? I think Keenan
said “this is a whole lot of nothing!”
We get to the turn-off to Codpa. The
road is still good, tarmac’d, but covered in caked-on dust for the
first few miles. Now we’re leaving even the relative civilisation of
the Panam behind, although even this road probably sees frequent
traffic – it’s part of the Sernatur advised route, but it does feel
like we’re on our own now.
Perspective is deceiving. What we
thought was a carabinero station and a long way away, turns out to
be yet another roadside shrine – Chilean flag and fresh flowers.
Push on. We’ve got the “Alex mix” on. Road starts getting bendier
with dips and climbs, we’re taking it easy – hard to tell what’s
ahead.
It’s 40km to Codpa. At some point the
proper road ends and we’re on a dirt track. This gets progressively
worse until we get to a few signs saying “Peligro, road under
construction”. We swap and switch to 4WD. Pass a few construction
gangs,
quite happy to let us pass their big machines. Figure this
must be as far as they got and we’re now on dirt tracks for the rest
of the way. The road starts to descend, gets narrower (still wide
enough for 2, just), and it’s a slow cautious drive down to Codpa.
Codpa, a surreal vision
Shopping in Codpa...
Codpa is like a surreal vision. We
round a bend and there it is, straight out of a spaghetti western. A
tiny hamlet, hemmed in all around by crumbling rocky/sandy hills.
Most striking, and most absurd of all, is the roof with the
white-painted “Hosteria Codpa”, surrounded by a dozen or so cabins,
with two swimming pools and a lawn. It looks totally out of place
here and next to the village with a small church, adobe
constructions and shacks made of “F&J”.
We drive into the village, first stop
for a drink and pitstop, so head straight for the hosteria, without
guilt, and have a coke & agua, sat on the terrace by the pool. Not a
soul here, apart from the young girl in the kitchen and her son.
Something nice was cooking.
In the background we can hear the
cacophony of a mock-fiesta laid on for the turistas. There were two
coaches parked in front of the little church when we got there. By
the time we get there they’ve gone and the church, which seemend to
have a full mass on, is padlocked. Manage to get a glimpse inside
through a hole – pretty, just another church.
A forlorn-looking stall in the main
square is the only opportunity to buy a memento. Thankfully it’s
stuff we actually like rather than arts & crafts. We come away with
a small jar of “locoto” (cayenne pepper I think) and Ness buys
marmelade of “tuna” – que? (Later explained to us that tuna is a
cactus fruit, supposed to be totally green)
Then we try to pick up the road to
the next villages. We find the roadsign [near the hosteria], study
it carefully, double-check with the various maps we have now
acquired, and turn right, direction Guañacagua.
The road is terrible, a single track
following the little oasis-valley below us, and we take it easy. I
keep mentally noting the last turning point, just in case… Engine
working hard, but the temperature stays steady. Pass through
Guañawhatsit. Pass two nuns (I think) who look like Japanese
tourists (missed the coach?), up, down, eventually get to a few
houses.
Ask a local guy how much further to
Timar, the next village. He tells us the road runs out further ahead
(i.e. another “road to nowhere”!) but we can turn there. The road to
Timar, he tells us, can be picked up just behind the hosteria in
Codpa! Five degrees and one clear road sign and somehow we still manage it! So we turn round, picking up the two “nuns” on the way
back. One of them looks very “indigenous”, sharp nose, high
cheekbones – where is her pan-flute? We drop them off at Guañaetc.
Back in Codpa, eventually, we plan
another visit to the hosteria but its gates are now padlocked (us?),
so we settle for biccies from a local stall, manned by local “opa”.
He has to blow the dust off the packet of Triton biscuits I settle
for. Then we leave Codpa, heading back the way we came – sensibly
decided against pushing on to Timar, now that we have found the
correct route. Both wondered at how we could have misinterpreted the
sign (see picture!)
Back on the road in construction we
find that the road builders have demolished the road in our absence!
An earth-mover is shifting rocks and we have to wait, behind the
carabinero on his motorbike. Pretty soon a jeep with two more
carabineros pulls up behind us. This country is full of absurdities
– love it already. After a while the earth-mover has created a space
for us to pass. Manage to keep the car moving and soon we’re past
them. I let the jeep of carabineros pass. Next stop arries soon –
the jeep has stopped. Ahead there is a construction gang. The
carabinero explains they’re about to set off some explosives and we
have to wait. This will be a spectacle! Bugger – they’ve decided to
let us through first. My Spanish is not up to explaining to our
friendly policeman (big hat & shades!) that we’d rather wait and
watch the kaboom if it’s all the same, so we drive on, wave to the
people – police, builders. Bit further on, having climbed, we’re in
a spot to get a good view of the explosion so we step (not by mutual
agreement!) and wait, and wait… nothing happens. Good spot to enjoy
the views across the plateaux anyway, we can feel the clear (but
dusty) air of the high plateau.
Pisco by the pool
No kaboom, so we carry on and are
soon back on the tarmac’d part of the “A-035” (for that was what it
was!) which seems to carry on for ever. I’ve never seen horizons
this wide, anywhere. Andes can be seen far in the background. Back
on the Panam and drive back towards Arica, across high plateau, into
and out of the Caleta Vitor again – I had forgotten about this bit –
must have been hairy for Ness to drive – on the way out the climb
and descent into the Caleta were on the side dropping away into the
valley and I was aware of it just driving back on the “safe” side
hugging the hill-side. The horizon is full of dust, can’t be fog or
clouds, it’s too yellow, filling the air ahead of us. Here and there
dust-devils suddenly whirl up, then die down just as quickly.
After a long drive we reach the sign
“Bienvenidos a Arica” (quick u-turn for picture) and head back into
the “zona urbana”. We stop at the statue of B O’H and get a local
guy, who seems to look after and dust off parked cars, to take a
picture of us with B O’H – will never come out the way he was
holding the camera but not wishing to upset him we thank him and
head back to the hotel.
Back at the hotel the bar beckons –
two PS’s (+ local olives – by now I’m sick of them but keep on
munching), sun is out, and Ness suggests a dip in the pool. We take
it in turns to change and soon are splashing about in the pool, the
water is warm, the sun is still high enough to enjoy the last rays.
A bit later we’re stretched out on sun-loungers by the pool – it
feels like the Med, but not quite. Five minutes and I’m bored, so
simply wait to dry off and start diary. Ness heads back to the room
to change, I carry on writing, fueled by one more PS.
A quick drink in the bar and then we
drive into Arica for nosh. The town centre is alive, we park Bash at
an estacionamiento and wander for a bit, towards a restaurant
suggested by the hotel concierge. It actually turns out to be a real
find – great meal (Ness: chicken “provencal”, i.e. garlic!, me:
huaso platter – superb slab of beef) + a few more drinks. Had to pay
with the Amex just to get that on the statement! All of £16, ouch!
