Chile - Salter's travels

Easter on a remote island with 1,000 Moai

Easter Island is remote. Really remote. You might think that Cleethorpes is a long way away but that is just peanuts compared to Easter Island. From Robinson Crusoe Island, it took us four days sailing to get here. Six days in total from the Chilean mainland. You could fly, from Santiago, 3,500 km, in 5 hours. The island has a population of 5,000 and a surprisingly big runway. It is roughly triangular, 25 km long and half as wide. The closest inhabited neighbour is Pitcairn Island (pop 50), 1,931 km to the west.

Rapa Nui, as the island is also known, is famous for its monolithic human statues called Moai. Polynesians, from islands further west, arrived here in 1,200 AD and created an industrious and successful settlement. They carved enormous Moai, cleared the land, grew crops and kept chickens. When the first Europeans arrived, in 1722, the population was around 2,500 but the ecology was under serious stress. Most of the trees had gone. Soil erosion was becoming a problem. Many endemic species of flora had been made extinct. The Polynesian Rat was firmly established and causing widespread damage. Cannibalism was a widespread practice.

As is usually the story, the arrival of Europeans did not help the locals very much. Diseases, slave raiding expeditions and emigration to other islands such as Tahiti severely depleted the population. Whaling expeditions introduced tuberculosis. Slaving was made illegal and a handful of islanders were repatriated. Unfortunately, they brought smallpox with them. By 1877 the entire population was just over 100. By this time, many of the statues has been toppled although it is not entirely clear why. Clan warfare may have been part of the reason, as might a tsunami.

In 1888 the islands were annexed by Chile and things started to improve. A little. In 1903 the island was bought by the English sheep-farming company Williamson Balfor. The locals were no longer able to farm for food and were forced to work on the ranches in order to buy food. In 1953 the company’s contract was cancelled and administration of the island handed over to the Chilean Navy. In 1966 the island was properly re-opened, and the Rapanui were given Chilean citizenship. At the same time, the airport was built and the Americans came. Between 1965 and 1970, the United States Air Force (USAF) settled on Easter Island, radically changing the way of life of the Rapanui. They became acquainted with the customs of the consumer societies of the developed world and then began to embrace tourism.

The tuff quarry where all the Moai come from

We dropped anchor in the bay off Hanga Roa, the main town. Technically it was a few days after Easter but I liked to think that we were visiting Easter Island at Easter. Zodiacs ferried us ashore and then we were herded, sheep like, into small busses. First stop was a replica village where I nearly fell asleep. The high light was a stone chicken house. Next stop was the quarry where the Moai were carved. This was a bit more interesting and chance to stretch my legs. Approximately 1,000 Moai were made and they were all carved from the volcanic Tuff in this quarry. Tuff is essentially compressed ash. It is quite soft, for a rock. Easy to carve but not exceptionally durable. Most of the Moai look a bit past their best these days. Walking around the quarry it is possible to spot Moai in most stages of construction. So far, I have not found a good explanation as to why the Rapanui stopped carving the statues. What I like to imagine is that, after several hundreds of years of banging out statues, they finally realised it was not working. Nothing happened. There was no divine protection. The mana did not flow. They simply did not function. It was just an awful lot of arduous work. The stone masons discussed this for a while then downed their tools and went off to find a religion that worked a bit better.

We went to see some Moai that had been restored and erected on the coast. Most Moai look inland. They are supposed to be keeping an eye on things. They do look quite nice. I prefer the ones without eyes – gives them a sense of being a bit haughty. There is considerable discussion about how they were moved. Some of the statues weight in at over 50 tons. One idea is that they were rocked while upright while being pulled at the same time. This makes them walk forward. It is an interesting idea but would leave great scope for accidentally pulling one over. We got dropped off in town where we found a nice café for empanadas, chips and some wine.

Next day, we were off in the minibuses again. This time we went to a place where the birdman competition was held. First job was to say hello to our guides grandmother. She was selling souvenirs off a little table just outside the ticket office.

The guide explained about the birdmen. Turns out my stone mason hypothesis was not too far off the mark. As the island became overpopulated and resources diminished, warriors known as Matatoa gained more power and the Ancestor Cult ended, making way for the Bird Man Cult. The concept of mana (power) invested in hereditary leaders was recast into the person of the birdman, apparently beginning circa 1540, and coinciding with the final vestiges of the moai period. This cult maintained that, although the ancestors still provided for their descendants, the medium through which the living could contact the dead was no longer statues but human beings chosen through a competition. The competition began, where we were standing, on top of a substantial cliff. Candidates needed to climb down the cliff, swim to island, collect a particular type of bird’s egg, swim back and reclimb the cliff. First one back got to be the new chief with all the pleasures, honours and responsibilities that were included.

Looking inland from the birdman cliff is a deep circular caldera. The volcanoes here are long since extinct. The caldera is now just a big lake. Nonetheless, it is still an interesting and impressive feature. We wandered around a couple of viewpoints and then went off to look at some more Moai on the coast. From there it was back into town. This time we found pizza and beer. A stroll back to the harbour, a short zodiac trip and we were done with Easter Island. Next stop Pitcairn. But not for a few days because Easter Island is really remote.

Discovering Man Friday and spotting a booby

Our second day at the Juan Fernández archipelago was all about zodiac cruising. There are few landing spots anywhere in the islands. We began to the north of Cumberland Bay. It was still early in the morning. Not at all cold but the orange sun was still low in the sky.

There is a cave visible here that, apparently, was where Alexander Selkirk spent the first few weeks after he was marooned. Later, he moved further inland because the density of fur seals on the beach made the ocean completely inaccessible. He mostly lived on goats rather than fish. The goats had been left on the islands much earlier by the very first European explorers. It was common practise, back then, to leave goats, sheep, chickens or similar in remote places. The hope was that they would survive and be of benefit to ship wrecked sailors. This clearly worked well on Robinson Crusoe Island but only up to a point. Although the introduced animals did well, it was to the detriment of the overall island ecology.

Back on the ship I photographed a giant petrel and a masked booby. After lunch, the ship moved down to Santa Clara Island. Meanwhile, I discovered that Selkirk was not the first person to be marooned on Robinson Crusoe Island. 24 years earlier, a Miskito pirate from Mosquitia (now Honduras) called Will was happily hunting goats on the island. He had been landed off an English vessel to gather supplies. He did not notice the Spanish ships approaching and was probably quite surprised when he saw his own ship scarpering over the horizon to escape the Spaniards.

He survived on the island for three years. At times he needed to hide from the Spanish who came ashore for goats and water. Eventually, in 1684, he was rescued by the English. Later, possibly, his story was the inspiration for Man Friday in Defoe’s famous novel.

The zodiacs were back in the water at Santa Clara. The island is uninhabited. There is no permanent fresh water supply. Many birds nest there including several endangered species. The whole area is internationally recognised as an important bird area. Much of the coastline is steep, treacherous looking cliffs. Despite the uninviting aspect, there are many seals here. More Juan Fernández fur seals. In places, we could spot some deep, inaccessible caves. Possibly a handful of seals hid deep in these cavities to evade the hunters. Now they are back out, breeding well and happily frolicking in the surf.

Santa Clara is a volcanic island. The whole Juan Fernández Archipelago was erupted from a hot spot under the Pacific floor. Tectonic movement has advanced the islands beyond the hot spot now. The volcanoes are all dead but much interesting geology still remains. Santa Clara is clearly built from layer upon layer of ash and lava deposits. On one particular cliff face, these layers are cut through by dykes. Formed when magma forces its way through vertical fractures, dykes often solidify underground and appear as narrow, wall-like ridges after erosion. This particular cliff was cut by a myriad of dykes that, from a distance, look like tree roots.

After an hour of looking at seals we were done. The zodiacs were hauled back onboard. Most people settled down for lunch. The skipper meanwhile set a course for Easter Island, four days of steaming through open ocean away.

An endangered endemic bird, the most famous castaway and an unexploded shell

The Juan Fernández archipelago consists of three main islands called: Robinson Crusoe, Alejandro Selkirk and Santa Clara. Robinson Crusoe island has a population of 800 and mostly relies on fishing and tourism. As you may have guessed from the name, it used to have a population of just one. Scottish privateer and Royal Navy officer Alexander Selkirk was marooned here for over four years. He asked to be put ashore in 1704 after a disagreement with his captain over the state of the ship. Selkirk thought the vessel was unseaworthy. A valid sentiment as the ship sank not long afterwards. After his rescue, Selkirk’s story became well known in Britain and was almost certainly a significant part of the inspiration for Daniel Defoe’s story, The Life and Surprising Adventures of Robinson Crusoe, published in 1719.

Diane and I went for a walk. There were a couple of organised hikes but we preferred to wander off at our own pace. We went through a forested area behind the main town and I photographed a lovely little orange hummingbird. Later, I discovered that the Juan Fernández Firecrown is endemic to the island, critically endangered and exceedingly rare. The archipelago is very isolated and much of the flora there is endemic. Knowing this, I took some pictures of a few flowers. I have no idea whether these are endemic, rare or in any other way interesting – but I did think they looked quite nice.

Making our way back into town, we found a lovely restaurant with a view and had some coffee. From here we could contemplate the vista, contemplate the town and contemplate our ship anchored out in the bay. Sitting there in the warm sunshine enjoying the coffee was an excellent way to pass a few minutes.

We walked to the north end of town. Here there is a nice viewing platform ideal for watching seals. The Juan Fernández fur seals are endemic and numerous. One of the smaller types of fur seal and very cute. Later, a guide explained to me that the seals had almost died off. Now, with their protected status, they were doing well. It was a great success story. Another way to look at this is that they were almost hunted to extinction. A handful of seals survived by hiding in the caves until people finally decided to leave them alone. It was a fortunate survival story in the face of mans greed and cruelty. All a matter of perspective.

Behind the viewing platform, there is a shell stuck in the rock wall. This is a live shell, apparently, from the Battle of Más a Tierra. The German cruiser, SMS Dresden, was hunted down by the British HMS Kent and HMS Glasgow in 1915 and sunk just a few metres from the shore. When we wandered back towards the pier, we spotted a small gun turret. There was no indication as to whether this had anything to do with the battle. Reminded me of an early form of Dalek.

We spotted a few more hummingbirds. Exceedingly small and fast. Difficult to photograph but amazing to watch. I think the green birds are the females. We found a statue of Robinson Crusoe and a welcome sign. Then we went to the pirate party. This was billed some sort of cultural get-together involving pisco, empanadas and local music. Sounded promising. We were served a pisco sour that was quite nice. Then we found there was nothing for us to eat. It was all fish, octopus and other dead things dragged out of the ocean. The music was proving to be a bit harsh on the ears so we skipped the rest of the party and headed back to the ship.

Our zodiac driver made a ten minute detour to the seal colony just past the south end of town. This was great to see and gave me another chance to photograph the animals playing around.

Two more cities and another ship

Leaving El Calafate in the morning, we flew to Buenos Aires. Another day and another flight later we were in Santiago. Chile’s capital and largest city. 7 m people in a modern, bustling city nestled in a valley surrounded by snow capped mountains. Here we hired a small apartment for a few days. We like to do this occasionally. Slow down. Cook our own food. Catch up the blog and generally just potter around at our own pace. The apartment is built just for this sort of Airbnb use. We have encountered quite a few of these. It is too small to live in for any length of time. No storage. Of course, this is not much of a problem, if all your possessions fit into a single suitcase weighing less than 23 kg. It is reasonably equipped. A hob and oven for cooking the food we have been missing. A washing machine. There is a limit to how far you can go just rinsing clothes out in the sink.

After a few pleasant if rather unexciting days we packed our bags again and got a taxi to the coast at Valparaíso. Time for another trip on a ship. We were going to join the Seabourne Pursuit for a voyage that will take us across the Pacific and back to Australia. On the way we will be visiting a few remote islands.

First job was to actually get on the ship. This can sometimes involve an awful lot of queuing and filling in of forms. Fortunately, Seabourne appeared to be well organised and in less than half an hour we got to our cabin. They prefer the term suite rather than cabin. Maybe a cabin sounds too basic or something. Anyhow, our suite is lovely. Well equipped bathroom, good sized bed, nice balcony and a bottle of champagne waiting for us.

The ship sailed late afternoon. Before then we spent a few hours hanging around on deck and watching life in the port of Valparaíso. Some sea lions popped up onto a pontoon close to the ship. South American male sea lions are big boys. 350 kg of blubbery animal. Nobody was going to argue with them, so the tourist boats just worked around them instead. Let sleeping sea lions lie. A few cormorants were making good use of an upturned boat. Some turkey vultures floated above us and an Inca tern watched us from a repurposed tyre. We sailed on time, just before dinner. Next stop the Juan Fernández Islands and tales of Robinson Crusoe.

Beagle Channel

Next morning, a little further down the Beagle Channel, we had another landing. The weather was still overcast and raining. Diane was still not interested in going out in it. I went ashore and walked up a short track to a vantage point. From here I could see the snout of the glacier and where it was calving off into the fjord. The ice was moving quite fast. You could not see it move, but I could hear it cracking and groaning every few minutes. There was a large block of ice which looked absolutely ripe for falling off. I found myself a good vantage point and waited for it. Never happened. The ice kept creaking and cracking. A few little bits fell off. After an hour I was getting more than a little cold and damp. Eventually, I was told we had to leave. Just another five minutes and it might have fallen.

With everyone back on the ship, we set off along the Beagle Channel. There are three ways past Cape Horn. To the north are the Magellan Straits where we had been a few days earlier. To the south is the open ocean known as Drakes Passage. This is the preferred route for commercial shipping because although it offers little shelter it is otherwise straightforward to navigate. The Beagle Channel is 240 km long and just 5 km at its most narrow. It is remarkably picturesque with five glaciers emptying directly into the waters. Named after the HMS Beagle that did the first hydrographic surveys of the area. Charles Darwin was introduced to glaciers here on the second voyage of the Beagle and noted “It is scarcely possible to imagine anything more beautiful than the beryl-like blue of these glaciers, and especially as contrasted with the dead white of the upper expanse of snow.”

Darwin probably had a nice sunny day. We were less fortunate but even so the views were spectacular. Many people came out on deck to have a look. I took a few photographs but it was difficult to do justice to the place. Heavy, thick clouds gave a dull grey featureless light to everything.

A little further down the channel we met the Fram. This is the ship we did the Northwest Passage on last year. The two sister ships engaged in some great horn blowing as they passed. The sound of the ship’s horns echoes of the walls of the fjord. On we sailed, past the glaciers to Ushuaia. Known to the Argentinians as the most southerly city in the world. This will be the eventual end of our trip. Where we leave the ship. Fortunately that is still a few days away so we carried on.

Finally, just after dusk, we arrived at Puerto Williams, population 2,800. A very small Chilean city on the south side of the Beagle Channel with the distinction of being the southernmost populated settlement in the world. Stopping here had been on our original itinerary. However, the plan, especially for the coast of Chile, was proving to be very flexible and Puerto Williams had been removed. Nonetheless, here we were. It all proved to be very frustrating. I would have loved to go ashore there if only for an hour or two. The last time I was here, I had just come from the Falklands in a small yacht, via Cape Horn. It would have been great to pop down to the yacht basin and maybe have a beer. Relive a few moments. Instead I had to content myself with scanning the shore for familiar landmarks in the distance. The Amundsen stayed there all night. Lurking a good distance from the quayside. Nobody got on or off the ship. Next day we set off for Cape Horn.

Magellan

South of Punta Arenas, south of the Magellan straits, are the Darwin Mountains and the Parque Nacional Alberto de Anostini. We had skipped Punta Arenas, yet another place I would have like to revisit, but now at least we had a chance to get off the ship. We had the opportunity to do a wet landing in the RHIBs. From the landing site there was a short walk to a viewpoint in front of a glacier.

Diane took one look at the weather and said “No”. She had a point. It was cold, overcast and raining hard. We have done three consecutive sea days to here. The Chilean fjords are interesting but not captivating. It does not help that the weather has been consistently Patagonia normal. That is, overcast and raining. Shipboard there is a general air of frustration over all the landings that have been cancelled. The bar has lost its mojo. For most of the trip there was a really good vibe in the evenings. Warm, friendly and chatty. Since Valparaiso, the introduction of the new menu, and a change of bar staff things have badly gone off the boil. People are worried about unexpected charges with the new menu. There are a bunch of ‘standard’ cocktails but they are awful. Each cocktail is made of a spirit and a pre-made syrup. Two ingredients per drink. Doesn’t work. This is why the margaritas, bloody marys and others have been tasting so strange. Quick and easy to make but pointless, to me, throwing the baby out with the bathwater. Other, more elaborate, cocktails are available but then you are off into high-cost territory – which is not in the spirit of an all-inclusive package. So, the bar staff are shouldering a lot of complaints, the customers are annoyed and the really nice comfortable atmosphere that the bar has maintained for nearly three months is gone. I needed to stop dwelling on this and get out for a bit of fresh air.

It rained and we got soaked. But it was good fun. I put my camera inside a waterproof bag. The type with a roll-down top. Then I put the bag into my rucksack which is similarly waterproof and has a roll-down top. By the time I got to shore in the RHIB the damp was starting to sneak in. My trousers used to be stretchy and waterproof. Now they are still stretchy but only shower proof at best. My jacket, a newly issued Hurtigruten jacket, is moderately waterproof. The walk up to the view point for the glacier was good fun. Here I found a bunch of very damp looking people standing around. I tried to get my camera out while keeping it dry. This is not possible when it is remaining. Best I could do was manage a few quick photographs while hoping it did not get too wet. Back at the RHIB the wind had been picking up. The ride back to the ship involved bouncing through a lot of waves. We got back, beyond soaked, looking like a boat full of little drowned rats.

Castro

Fidel Castro was a Cuban revolutionary. A champion of socialism and anti-imperialism whose revolutionary government advanced economic and social justice while securing Cuba’s independence from American hegemony. He was also a dictator who oversaw human rights abuses, the exodus of many Cubans, and the impoverishment of the country’s economy. Whatever your opinion, Fidel probably never visited the lovely city of Castro, population 41,000, on Chiloé Island in Chile. But we did.

The morning began with being ferried ashore in one of Amundsen’s tenders. Then we had a walking tour. We saw the city centre church which was opened especially for us. We saw the park where Ibis sat in the trees. We saw the palafitos, traditional and colourful wooden stilt houses by the river. It was a pleasant walk and after a couple of hours we were back at the port. We still had time to kill so we wandered off in search of queso empanadas. Fortunately, we did not have to look far. Lovely little restaurant with several types of cheese empanadas. Dale and Debbie, friends from the ship, joined us. We had a very pleasant hour with delicious empanada and wine. Chilean wine. It was lovely. Diane checked the wine with her app. This stuff was rocking a score of 4.0 at a price of around €10 per bottle. Way better than the ship wine. So good that we had a couple of bottles.

Back on the ship we began the long trek south to Puerto Natales, gateway to Patagonia. I did find this a little irksome. From my previous travels I knew we were passing some terrifically interesting places. I also thought that they could at least pick up a few cases of the local wine. The weather was dull and overcast. We were passing through the inner channel and it was all very pleasant if not spectacular enough for photographs. Instead, I amused myself by trying to photograph some of the birds flying around the ship.

We passed through several narrow channels. These were fun from my point of view. Probably a bit more stressful for the bridge crew. Then we got to a particularly tricky passage, know as the White Narrows. It is passable but very tight and needs to be tackled at just the right point on the tide. The weather was against us. The wind had picked to a small gale. The vertical, flat sides of the Amundsen catch a lot of wind. Usually this is not a problem but it can affect how accurately she can be steered. The combination of a gusty strong wind and a narrow channel is asking for trouble. It was announced that we would skip Puerto Natales and continue south. This was particularly annoying. I remember Puerto Natales as a wonderful place and we had booked a long trip round the scenic Torres Del Paine national park. Ah, well.

La Serena and Valparaíso

The first place our tour of La Serena visited was a small marketplace of shops dedicated entirely to selling tourist tat. Cute souvenirs, fridge magnets, t-shirts with amusing captions and a wide variety of impractical kitchen implements that combined the words La Serena with a red heart symbol. To me this was a tricky start to a tour. These things do happen. In Morocco, any tour will include the carpet shop of the tour guide’s brother. In Thailand you will inevitably end up in a tailors shop. Ostensibly, we were here to look at a church. But we had to walk past the market to get to the church. The church was locked up and a bit dilapidated anyhow. We were given a twenty minute break in case we wanted to look at anything in the market.

Then we walked to a park. It was Sunday so all the (non-tourist) shops were shut. Made for a somewhat dull walk. But the park was in full swing with some dancing. We watched the dancing for a while and nearly bought an ice cream. The tour ended up at a lighthouse that was not really a lighthouse, it had just been built for tourists. The lighthouse was on the beach. The beach is the main tourist attraction. There was a stall nearby selling fried queso empanadas. This was truly the highlight of the day although on the way back to ship, we did spot a pirate ship.

La Serena thoroughly explored, we sailed overnight to Valparaíso. Built upon dozens of steep hillsides overlooking the Pacific Ocean, Valparaíso has a labyrinth of streets and cobblestone alleyways, embodying a rich architectural and cultural legacy. Valparaíso was declared a World Heritage Site in 2003. We did not see any of that, except at a distance. A few of us, those doing the pole-to-pole, were sent off on a tour to keep us out of the way. Meanwhile, at the Amundsen, they were preparing for the next leg to Antarctica. This meant taking on lots of supplies and also passengers. A lot of passengers. The ship was going to be just about full. 277 people.

Meanwhile, we were taken to a very nice park and a famous outdoor theatre that was closed. Next came a very tiny museum. Upstairs was a taxidermists display of Chilean fauna and a two headed sheep. Downstairs were several very dark rooms with old things in and a long queue for the toilet. Outside, as a backdrop to the tourist tat stalls, was a stone head. It looked to have been stolen from the Easter Island people. We had a walk along the shoreline promenade and ended up in the city centre square. Late afternoon we were taken back to the ship which was now starting to feel very crowded.

Iquique

South from Arica but still in the Atacama Desert is Iquique, population 200,000. The history of the town is mostly associated with saltpetre mining. This used to be particularly important. Saltpetre, sodium nitrate, is a vital component of gunpowder and fertilisers. It is also used as a food additive. For more than a century, the world supply of the saltpetre was mined almost exclusively from the Atacama Desert. Since the first decade of the 20^th century, nitrogen can be fixed directly from the air (Haber-Bosche process). This directly led to the decline of the mines. Today, Iquique has one of the largest duty-free commercial port centres in South America and this is the main source of income.

We were taken on a bus trip to visit a museum and an old saltpetre mine. This proved to be remarkably boring. As I have mentioned many times before, we are not museum people. This museum represented an all-time low. The most interesting thing I found was a shed with lots of holes in it.

Meanwhile, back on the ship, trouble is brewing. Hx is busy rebranding itself as the expedition side of Hurtigruten. Today Hx introduced a new menu for the bar. Previously, those of us on the Pole-to-Pole trip had an inclusive drinks package that meant we did not have to explicitly pay for any of our drinks. Just about every bottle and cocktail was included. This was pleasant and felt like fair value. Now, Hx has substantiated the existing class divide between those in the more expensive cabins, called suites, and the rest of us. The affluent elite already have their own, exclusive, restaurant. I find this reinstatement of nobility strange. Norway is one of the world’s more egalitarian societies. Hx by contrast, despite being firmly Norwegian, is working hard to solidly reinvigorate the class system. The new cocktails and drinks top out at €50 a shot. Unless you have a suite. Making them essentially inaccessible to the proletariat. But it gets worse. The bar staff are desperately trying to learn and serve the new cocktails to the handful of aristocrats leaving no time to serve the plebians. A wait of up to half an hour for a glass of wine is now common. During one of these periods of class induced boredom, Diane and I started examining, more closely, the wine being served to those of us with a drinks package. Using the Vivino App we discovered that it is particularly cheap and nasty. Typically scoring 3.2 or less and costing and average of well under €5. You will only ever find this stuff on the bottom of a discount supermarket.

The day was rounded off by a short concert from the crew band. The ship’s crew, mostly Filipinos, are not allowed to drink at all and are paid a pittance. Despite this, a few of them have formed a quite reasonable sounding band and we all enjoy the occasions when they play to us.

Arica

The night before we arrived in Arica, Nicky did some songs outside. Nicky is our onboard pianist. She also plays guitar. Twice a day, she plays in the corner of the bar on the top deck. This is very pleasant. Adding an outdoor spot while the weather is still warm was a great idea.

Later that day I spotted a whale. Might have been a sperm whale. Difficult to say but I grabbed a few photographs anyhow.

Arica is in the far north of Chile. It almost never rains here. The Atacama Desert is one of the driest in the world. Back in the day, I was a carefree, solo traveller with a rucksack on my back. I visited Aric as a starting point for seeing some of the Altiplano area that lies eastward towards Bolivia. Here you can find massive, snow covered volcanoes, lakes, llamas, rhea, vicunas and pink flamingos. The tour description, “Desert man” sounded very promising. Sadly, instead of majestic landscapes of the Lauca National Park, we got dancing girls and modern art. I should have read the description more carefully. We were driven up one of the valleys that cut into the desert from Arica. These are irrigated from a subterranean aquifer and are very fertile. Citrus and olives are the main crops. Above the valley are four sculptures that were made about twenty years ago. I do not really have a gene for modern art and often struggle to differentiate meaningfulness from rubbish in contemporary designs. These sculptures were particularly challenging. The flamboyantly dressed youths dancing to loud, distorted music did nothing to improve my sense of artistic appreciation. My disappointment was however, slightly offset by the glasses of a very nice pisco.

Next stop was described in terms of geoglyphs. I would have managed expectations a tad better by mentioning a few rocks laid out on the hillside. Then came the museum. There are some ancient mummies here. Remains of the Chinchorro culture. They are some of the oldest examples of artificially mummified human remains in the world. 5,000 BCE makes them up to 2,000 years older than the Egyptian mummies. Many of them were found at the base of the Morro de Arica – a steep hill that looms above Arica. Our penultimate stop was on top of the Morro. Here we got some lovely views of the surrounding area.

Then it was back to town for a wander round. We found an excellent bar that served empanadas and pisco. Empanadas are a staple part of Chilean cuisine. A pastry turnover containing a filling. Often meat but also made with cheese, mushrooms and onions. The empanadas we found were queso empanadas – small and filled with tasty cheese. Went well with the Mango Sour pisco.

Quite soon after that, the ship was making preparations to leave. We were safely back on board and heading for the bar when we heard the band start up. A 21 piece band had turned up on the quayside and was serenading us as we left. Not just a couple of songs. They played for a good half hour or more as we sailed off into a particularly good sunset. It all felt very satisfying.