The first step

Firstly: I've added photos that have almost nothing to do with this post, I just wanted to show some things from the San Pedro de Atacama.

I'm still in the Atacama desert, but now I don't have anyone with me. The group left last night around 8 and I decided to go back my own way; I'll meet up in Santiago when classes start again next week.

Sitting in an internet cafe, I am already impressed by the people I have met on my journey south.

Oh, maybe I should tell you what I'm doing before I go into the people: I decided to hacer dedo (hitch hike) the 1,700 Km from San Pedro de Atacama to Santiago, the goal being to arrive before Monday (preferably get there by early Sunday) and spend as little money as possible... The irony of using a public pay-by-the-minute computer to blog does not escape me, I might add.

Anyway, back to the people: Last night I was walking around the town after my group had left, I was looking for food but - this being a tourist town - most meals were somewhere around $10 a plate and I was looking for something a bit cheaper, or at least including drinks for that price. I stumbled upon this little dirt-and-gravel floored restaurant that had a grungy cooler and the menu written on the walls in colorful chalk. Much more to my taste. I ordered the Atacameña (a wonderfully nutritious sandwich with what seemed like fried beef, ham, onions, tomato and an egg) and sat there in the emptiness waiting for my heart attack to arrive. In walked a nervous looking gringo who moved in a circle for a minute before sitting near me. It was only once he tried to order an empanada napoliana (tomato sauce and hot dog in a fried dough thingie) that I decided to say hello... mainly because the poor waitress couldn't understand his even poorer Spanish.

Captain Alejandro saves the day! His name was Ralph (pronounced with a back of the throat loogie-hawking sound due to the Germanness that he was). We spoke through out my meal about traveling and seeing the world, and when the waitress came back to me to tell him that there were only cheese empanadas I suggested he join me in death and have an atacameña as well. He did.

Parting ways eventually, I set out in search of a happy hour nearby. I found one at a nice restaurant with friendly and humorous wait staff who liked to stare at the gringo, then joke with him (me). Again there sat near to me citizens in need of assistance, and C.A. didn't hesitate! When I heard the gringos sitting at a nearby table attempt to order wine (pronouncing "vino" as "wine") and saw the waitress (they seem to get stressed easily here) start to shake her head nervously, I asked if they wanted white or red. They said "we just want to make sure its free with the meal." So I translated, to the enthusiastic cheers of everyone in town. Talking with them, I learned they were also German traveling on holiday and were grateful to have a drink to take off some of the stress of journeying. They offered me some of the gigantic empanada they ordered, which I politely declined, and we spoke of past travels. They were familiar with the US, having lived in and hitchhiked across it, and were enthusiastic to hear about my travels as well. I wished them well when all was said and done, and taking my super-duper-translator-cape with me, I left to find somewhere to sleep.

Two nights ago me and some friends found our way to a field to watch the stars (with our new-found abilities to recognize a bunch of constellations as taught by a local astronomer), and my buddy Naveen and I decided to stay the night and sleep out there. So last night I tried to find the same field... without much luck.

I walked for a few kilometers in various directions, knowing all the while that I was in the general vicinity (e.g. town) as I had been the night before. After working my way through countless (well, maybe 3) wrong turns I sucked it up and asked a local who was walking with his girlfriend/wife/prostitute/mother-in-law if he knew of anywhere I could camp for free. He gave me some general directions, of which I understood little except for "right," "left," and "something to do with camping," and I went on my way. After I took a blatantly wrong turn, he took pity on me and he invited me to walk with him and his lady friend. They took me down a few roads then pointed me to a field and told me where it would be safe for me to sleep without getting in trouble from the owners. They were both very nice, willing to have conversation and ask questions about me and what I was doing. They laughed at a joke I made and made one of their own. I feel very lucky to have been guided to sleep by them.

This morning I woke up to a phone call from Cristian, it was good to have a send off on my journey by a familiar and welcome voice. Leaving the camp site I worked my way back to town to find breakfast and wait for the cell phone store to open so I could recharge my minutes and buy another battery charger. In all my infinite wisdom I left my charger in the laptop bag that has been taken back to Santiago by my friend Justin...

Entering my favorite restaurant (for the food, not the service - a meal normally takes 1-2 hours depending on how responsive the servers are feeling) I find Ralph sitting, waiting for his tour to the thermal baths to leave. I asked to join him and we spoke during breakfast of the things we hoped to see and do, and those things done that we enjoyed. We parted with good wishes and smiles.

I am now 37 minutes 32 seconds into my internet time here in San Pedro de Atacama, the cafe has small tables with two or three benches surrounding them, eight computers, five customers and two estadaunidense (US Americans). The cell phone store opens in eight minutes, I have to buy a gallon of water and some granola bars then go stand by the entrance of the town with my sign for Calama. In less than a half hour I will have officially started my trip.

I hope the official start isn't by way of standing in the sun forever.

Lots of love, wish me luck.

Peace