It was time to leave the relative luxury of our seaside cabana and head back up to
the desert. Iquique has expanded a lot
since we first visited and finding the way out was a nightmare. Not a single sign. Big roads turned in to dead ends or narrow
tracks and we were forced to do a couple of difficult three point turns – not easy
as the vehicle has poor rear view.

Then we saw a lorry loaded with huge tyres for a mining
truck so we guessed that would be heading out of town to the mines. We were right and slowly began the ascent out
of town. The route is now a dual
carriageway and you can no longer drive a horse and cart on it.

We went past several shrines to various saints, now facing
away from the road as the alignment had changed.

We were at the junction with Humberstone quickly and decided
to turn north to see if we could find the 86 metre geoglyph of the Gigante de
Atacama. We had visited twice before and
failed to see it, but this time Joan had a picture from Google earth to help
identify its location. The roads are
metalled now, even the road up to the altiplano. We were sad we weren’t going to carry on up
to Chusmisa and beyond.

You could see the hill were the geoglyph is from afar and as
we approached, you could see him clearly.
How did we not find him last time?

As we drove in, another car came with a French family. Like us they took pictures of the giant with
his headdress and drove off. We were
both glad to have finally seen him!

Then it was heading south to visit the UNESCO World Heriage
site of Humberstone. A deserted nitrate town
hat closed down in 1960. We had visited
before. Now it’s a little more developed
and they are trying to restore some of the crumbling heritage. What was good is there now are interpretive
panels which explain about the life there and the social differentiation. There were also displays of artefacts linked
to the town.

What was interesting was the role of the women in the
camp. It said they had a civilising
effect and organised themselves in to unions to campaign for better food
rations, education for their children and improved conditions.

There were only a handful of people there as tourists as well
as members of the restoration team. Like
Chacabuco, the heat is relentless up here and there were hot winds as well. The
temperature was 31 degrees Celcius when we got there.

What is clear is there is a strong and proud culture associated
with the nitrate industry and every year there is a reunion for those who
worked or grew up in this hostile place.
It was also a breeding ground for left wing and anarchic ideas in the 1920s.

After visiting, we headed south to the mining town of Pozo
Almonte, a place which we visited several times on our previous trip, not least
because it has a petrol station. We
were kind of relieved that this dusty outpost town had not changed much. In
particular, packs of dogs caused chaos on the main road – the PanAmericana or
ruta 5 - and the small, garage like shops still hugged the street.

One of the things that has changed is that the roads are for
the most part-metalled. This is a definite change since we came before when our
Suzuki Jimny rattled along wash board dust roads, and drank petrol like we
drink beers. Some of the frontier charm
has gone, but we still love Chile.

Then it was a turn off to the Andes. A sandstorm was blowing up and the sky was
brown. At some points we could barely
see the car in front.

Pica appeared some 50 km on, a green streak on a muddy coloured
and arid landscape. As we came closer
there were fruit trees growing by the side of the road with citrus fruits, in
particular, the tiny limes that are so famous for making Pisco Sours. For its
location, Pica is quite large. We stayed
here one night before and remember it being full of shut shops and restaurants.
Little has changed. Though on the way up
we had seen many camping signs these had disappeared. We parked up by the natural springs and looked
for somewhere to stay. (It’s easier than driving round with the
motorhome.) After a few false starts, we
asked someone who said there was a camping Gualatiri nearby. Unable to find it,
we asked some old men on the square and they drew us a map and wrote down the
name. (It’s also worthy of note that
there is often municipal provision of WiFi in the main plaza.) We eventually
found it, having driven past it three times before. It was a hotel-restaurant, with a picnic area
attached to it. We now realise camping
tends to mean picnic areas with BBQs and tables. You couldn’t park at the picnic area, but in
a car park adjacent. We asked the lass
at the hotel if we could stay and she said we could park in the car park for
about £6 per night. We even were allowed
to hook up to the electricity in the restaurant.

We thought it would be rude to cook in the motorhome when
there was a restaurant on site , but when we went in the lass said service had
finished for the day. So we walked down
our street and found a small, spotless restaurant that had one veggie option: a
Churrasco vegetariano. It was a huge,
hot sandwich stuffed with tomatoes, mushrooms, cheese, avocado and palmito. We have learned only to order one portion of
chips for two people. Chilenos love
their condiments and brightly coloured squeezy bottle of tomato sauce, mustard
and mayo were put on the table. Often
you also get a local salsa of tomatoes, onions and coriander. Joan loves this and took a forkful. Wow, was it hot!

The sandwiches defeated us and we walked back up the hill to
where we were staying. It was still warm
but the streets were deserted.