Our journey began in Cochabamba, Bolivia where we´ve both been working/volunteering. After what seemed like endless packing we shoved our conspicious backpacks into the back of a taxi and made our way to the bus terminal around 8 am. The trip to Arica, our first destination in Chile, was a 12-hour stretch but thankfully flew by. A few hours into the journey we were served a meal of grilled meat (I suspect it was llama carne), rice, a bit of salad and of course the ever-growing, ever-consumed, ever-loved Bolivian potato. After a cocacola and viewing of the films ´Enough` and `Taken´ we arrived at the border crossing. Surrounded by stunning moutain scenes, we unloaded from the bus with our fellow bus-mates to line up at the customs window. A cold wind blew and we huddled around until our turn. Despite contrary stories from previous travelers it was a piece of cake and we were soon back on the bus for the remaining portion of the journey. We arrived in Arica around 9 pm and were quickly bombarded by the pushy taxistas that hover around the terminal waiting to collect weary travelers. We gave in to an older white-haired man who some how seemed more deserving of our newly changed Chilean pesos. He took us to a place that was alegedly the same hostal as the one we´d directed him to but now named Don Luis. When we arrived he jumped from the car and disappeared. After a minute or so he rerturned and we learned he´d gone to confirm that they had room for us there and so set in the obligation to stay. We suspect the driver is a friend of Don Luis´. The place was basically their home with extra rooms for guests (although they had managed to fabricate a front desk to make it a bit more official). After checking in we walked through the place to find a group of middle-aged Chilean women watching television in a dingy living room. One of them seemed to be struggling with a case of bad tuberculosis or at least a lifetime addiction to Virginia Slims. Past that point we arrived at our room. A reasonably sized bedroom with a bunk bed, a larger double bed and a private bathroom. Home for the night. We left our things there to grab some food, which turned out to be microwaved pizza. Yum. The next day we did some exploring, walking through the main strip downtown - Avenida 21 de Mayo - what we decided to call ´The Modern´ because it had a McDonald´s and a Blockbuster at one end. We attempted to do the beach but found that it was difficult to locate anything that wasn´t surrounded by an industrial ship yard. We soon gave up and poked our heads in to a restuarant near the water. Not entirely sure what we´d ordered, we were overly pleased to both receive what were the best dang sandwiches one could imagine. Hearty bread topped with grilled meat, tomato, avacoado and mayo. To top it off they brought us a heaping plate of fries that we likened to those of Thrasher´s on Rehobeth´s boardwalk. I´m not sure either of us spoke a word, as we were far too busy stuffing our faces. While Arica wasn´t so appealing these suckers really made up for it. From there we booked it back to our hostal to pick up our loads and headed to the bus station for another, but shorter trip to Iquique where we still remain. So far it has a much better feel and we´re looking forward to a night of sushi, beer and a jazz concert. We´ll report in on the full scoop when we are settled at another place with internet.

Until then,

Devara

*We are having trouble getting pictures up so those will come when we have a reasonable internet connection.