What's today? Ah, Sunday. So Thursday we took a 2 hour bus trip to Viña del Mar, a beachside resort that was definitely in its low season. We took the recommended walking tour, saw a clock made of flowers, a few German castles, a group of Chilean Marines running drills in short shorts, and the Pacific (my first time seeing the ocean since Patagonia!). Failed to find an appealing local restaurant and settled for over priced but delicious pizza in an Italian restaurant you'd find in NYC or Italy. There was an abundance of Italian and Mexican restaurants in Viña del Mar for some reason.
That night we caught the midnight bus from Santiago to La Serena, a six-ish hour drive north, more of a stopping point to break up the long bus rides. We arrived at 6am, and Yvonne had caught an ear infection (too much pisco, not enough water, too much bussing?) so she slept the day away. We had a nice private room at a really sweet German hostel, full of wooden patio furniture to hang out on. Ian and I scoped out the little town, known for its numerous churches and white-washed colonial style buildings. Found an awesome lunch spot full of local business men and women, chowing down on soups and stews. Ian ordered the shellfish chowder and I got the hot seafood soup. He definitely won and I had such food envy that when he suggested returning to the same restaurant for dinner, I happily obliged. Unfortunately it seemed the chowder had been sitting around since lunch time and was a bit congealed and had an off flavor. Yvonne and I were disappointed. She ordered an empanada and I pouted.
The next day (Saturday?) Ian and I were off to the small town of Vicuña, in the Elqui Valley, famous for a Nobel Prize winning poet (not Pablo Neruda) and of course pisco distilleries. Yvonne still wasn't feeling up to par so she stayed in bed. Getting off the bus, we were greeted by the Black Eyed Peas blasting from somewhere close. Shaking our heads, we tracked it down to the town's plaza, where there was a mini carnival being hosted by the local gas company, GasCo. It was sad. Cotton candy, hoop games, a bouncy house, even a little man dressed as a blue drop of gas. The kids were eating it up. It all felt too Erin Brockovich to me. The big bad gas company trying to win over the locals.
We found our way over to the first Pisco distillery, Capel, which I had noticed branded itself all over the countryside with water tanks and signs in people's yards. The tour was in Spanish, we were joined by 4 very annoying college kids (from American U. of course), and the tour guide just didn't give a shit about the whole thing. But it was cool to see how similar the process was to wine making, just with the distilling bit added on.
And the tasting at the end were all super sweet pisco mixes! I had to ask to try pisco by itself. After trying one of their premium aged piscos, we realized why it's always mixed with something - pisco is not good alone.
We refused to give up and hailed a cab to a tiny distillery the tourism office told us about, ABA. Literally a mom and pop joint about 10 minutes outside of Vicuña, with one lady hand applying the labels when we walked in, who gave us 3 samples, and barely tried to sell anything to us. So we didn't buy any, much to our surprise. By this time it was 1:30 and we had a 3pm bus back to La Serena. We found an amazing local joint recommended to us by the cab driver. It was again filled with locals, always a good sign. We each ordered 1/4 of rotisserie chicken and side salad with the freshest avocado, tomato, lettuce. Might have been the best meal thus far in Chile, and the cheapest, at a whopping $5.
Then it was back to La Serena to pick up Yvonne and our bags, and we were on the 6pm bus to San Pedro de Atacama, where we arrived at 11am this morning. Yep, 17 hours on the bus. I thankfully scored one of the prime seats on the top level, in the very front, with great views of the desert. Ian and Yvonne sat in the back towards the bathroom. I was able to sleep for the first 2 hours, then had "dinner," made a dent in my book (stifle your groans - I'm reading Pride and Prejudice, as it is one of Yvonne's favorites and it was free on Amazon.com), listened to a This American Life podcast, and was back to sleep by 1am. Woke up at 8 feeling rather good. Then I got off the bus.
San Pedro is at an elevation of about 7,900 ft (2.400 meters). Let me back up a bit by explaining that since Santiago, Yvonne (a nurse) had been blaming many things on altitude, from her fast heartbeat, to my peeing a lot (I just drink a lot of water!), to the fact that one margarita made me tipsy. And that was at 520 meters/ 1,700 feet.
Upon arriving today, Yvonne again warned us of the effects of altitude. Ian and I laughed her off saying we'd heard enough already. We jokingly started blaming everything on altitude. Ow, I bumped my head! Must be the altitude. etc.
Shame on me. First I felt the headache at the hostel and laid down for a minute. Then we walked down to the center to grab lunch, where I was starting to feel body aches. Yvonne warned me not to eat too much because the altitude slows down your metabolism and your body can't digest food as quickly. Thought I'd be safe with some corn soup, a few biscuits, and a mint lemonade. We sat for a while, and all was okay so we went to a tour company to check out the Bolivian salt flat trip, with again more sitting. Then we left and I stood up, and walked in the blaring desert sun. Immediately felt nauseous, with the strong urge to vomit. We were close to the restaurant we had eaten at so I made a beeline to their bathroom but it was a false alarm. We all agreed a siesta was in order and we headed back the 10 minute walk to the hostel. Yvonne was talking away and I was mute. I found it hard to focus, I couldn't talk except to tell them I was going to the mini mart to grab some water. Ian joined me. Bought a huge jug of water, headed back to the hostel, about a block away, and out it came. I doubled over, corn soup violently coming out of me 5 times. Thankfully I was wearing shorts and waterproof sandals I could wash off because it was all over my legs and feet. Ian stood about 10 feet away, partly disgusted and partly horrified, I'm sure. He handed me the water we just bought and I poured it over my legs, laughing, instantly feeling better. Then the street dogs came around and started eating it up. Gross. I went back to buy more water and finish rinsing off. Ian went back to the hostel and alerted the Nurse who brought out some tissues and checked on me. I took a shower, and passed out for 3 hours. Upon waking up, I'm now still achey and shivery. Took some advil, mixed an electrolyte tablet in with some water and am having granola cookies for dinner while Ian and Yvonne went back to town. The hostel owner explained it was normal, my body's reaction. I shouldn't have had the corn (too hard to digest) and should stay away from meat and alcohol. By tomorrow my body should be acclimated. I hope so! There are lagoons to see, and the salt flats the next day.
Also found out my mom had a similar reaction years ago in Macchu Picchu. Glad to know altitude sickness runs in the family.
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