Sorry to disappoint those readers looking for another posting about Emmett and Riley adventures here. This one is a people adventure that I wanted to share.
Penguins...Humboldt penguins. Now, La Serena is very desert like in appearance. It reminds me of Arizona, only it sits on the ocean. There's fog or at least overcast skies in the mornings. It doesn't rain here much. The morning fog provides the moisture for the plants along the coast. There are plenty of cacti and other succulents growing on the hillsides. This being said, La Serena is much greener than the area we drove through to get to the penguin reserve. And who would think that penguins would be this far north and in desert country. Not me.
The morning started early, especially for my traveling companion, the brother of a friend,who was here from India. I get the feeling that he was not a morning person, in addition to his being slightly jet-lagged from the 13 hours to Paris followed by the 14 hours from Paris to Santiago only a week before. Our driver, who spoke perfect English, picked us up at 8 am. We had our bags with us. They told us to pack layers of clothing, water, some food to hold us until lunch at 3, and a hat. I had my Nikon D40 with a new zoom lens with vibration reduction attached in my bag, as well. I was hoping to get some good shots. We wound our way through the tiny and quiet streets of early morning La Serena. The fog hovered above the city as we picked up the single Spanish speaking woman in high heels (not a good choice for a boat ride and hiking in the sand, but they looked nice), a young Spanish speaking couple, and a pair of young women who, as it turned out, were from Kentucky (small world). There was plenty of room in the van for the seven passengers and the driver. We could of held at least 5 more people. On the way out of town on Route 5, the Pan-American Highway, we stopped at the one and only gas station on the 120 km drive to the boats. After a quick rest stip, we pulled out of the station and back on to Route 5. The driver/tour guide put on his microphone and began the 90 minute monologue as the mist hit the windshield. I thought to myself that it's going to be a cold, wet day. I was not entirely correct about that.
As we drove up the coast, the population thinned out considerably and the landscape became much dryer. There were more cacti and fewer trees. In fact, the trees pretty much disappeared as soon as we left La Serena. A few scattered houses dotted the landscape; water containers on platforms marked them all. There are signs that capitalism had hit the area north of La Serena, as we saw signs advertising unbuilt condominiums along the highway. The driver talked to us, in both English and Spanish, about the building going on in the area and how in ten years, he thought property values will be much higher than they were now. He told us how cheap the land was. It was almost a sales pitch...almost.
At one point along the drive, when we were at a low elevation and right along the coast, I turned to look up the mountain. I saw many cars and trucks on what appeared to be several different roads. Our driver came over the PA system to let us know that we'd be climbing up the mountains and that we might see some sun when we got to the top. Ahhh..it's not a whole series of roads that I saw. It was the switchbacks going up the side of the mountain. Now, I've driven in the Rockies (sorta) and in the German/Swiss Alps (sorta)...I say sorta, cause someone else was driving...but I'd never seen anything quite like this. I'm sure switchbacks like this exist in those areas, but I just didn't see them. Up we went...back and forth...back and forth...sometimes we raced trucks from higher parts of the road to the hairpin turns hoping the truck would slow down enough on that grade to stay in its own lane around the corner where we were sure to pass. Fortunately, today, all was well. We made it to the top, only to find more clouds. We couldn't see a thing except the drizzle on the windshield.
We slowed along the highway and made a left turn onto a bumpy dirt track. The driver came over the PA system to let us know that it would only be another 45 minutes on the dirt road! 45 MINUTES....the road was graded somewhat, but it was only about a lane and a half wide. It wasn't so bad, I thought. It was fairly straight. And, after all, the speed limit was 80 kilometers per hour. Incidentally, that's the same speed for Route 5, the Pan American Highway, just as you leave La Serena. We zoom along in the 13 passenger van with the rocks from the front tires banging the bottom of the van and the dirt from the road making it's way up through cracks in the floorboards. Thud...clang...thud....dink
As we drive, the tour guide mentioned that we may see Guanacos along the road as they were fairly common in this area. Yay, wildlife. He also pointed up to the rocky mountain side when he saw a herd of goats grazing above. There must have been 100 of them. Domesticated, he says. I saw a sign ahead with a pretty steep triangle and a truck on it. Hmmm...looks an awful lot like those steep grade signs in the mountains in the States. Sure enough, the driver down shifted and slowed. Over the speaker we hear him say that the misty weather makes it slippery. I was so happy that he waited until that particular moment to tell us this. We were nose down on the road with a blind corner ahead and a BIG drop in front of us. Theatrics? Perhaps a little. Down and around we went with more down and around to come....as we turned the corner, I saw a valley floor ahead of us. It's a very dry valley floor like the rest of the landscape. I can see where the road cuts across the valley, or at least I assume it's our road. I can't be sure at this point because there were several roads that branched off from our main road. Where they went was anyone's guess. It didn't seem possible that they went anywhere as there didn't seem to be anywhere to go other than into more desert. Down we go to the road that cut across the valley. We were following a Suzuki SUV. I wondered where they are headed. I watch as they started climbing out of the valley. Like the road down, this one is steep and switches back going up the side of the mountain. I hoped that we didn't meet any other cars out here. I didn't even think about what would happen should we have broken down out there.
Once at the top, the road straightened out again and our driver resumed his zooming across the desert on the straightaway (80 km/h, remember). As we flew along, I looked out the left window and swore that I saw my first Guanaco. Unfortunately, at that speed, we passed it before I could blink. Off we drove, gradually descending lower towards the sea. We could see the ocean by this time. It was deceptively close by the looks of it. Only 25 minutes more, the driver informed us. I delt somewhat tossed about by this time. I really didn't think their were shocks on the van. The driver pointed to what appeared to be groves of trees in the distance. Those were olive trees. The best olive oil in Chile is made there. We drove through that village with the olive trees. Lots of olive trees, colorful houses, a school, and a clinic along the main street. We didn't stop on the way to the boats. I was sure we'd stop on the way back.
As we pulled out of this village, the driver pointed out the 3 islands off the coast that made up the Reserva Nacional Pinguino de Humboldt. We were to visit two of the islands today: Isla Damas and Isla Choros. We'd circle Isla Choros to see the wildlife, but we were only allowed to get off the boat on Isla Damas. Hiking on the other islands is forbidden due to laws protecting the habitat of the penguins, sea lions, etc. At one time, the driver tells us the natives lived on the islands, but they were moved off when the islands became a national reserve.
We stopped in the next village, which was very close to the boat yard, and confirmed our lunch reservations at the local restaurant. It appeared to be the only one open as high season was still a couple of months away. It was still cold here and the wind was blowing steadily. We climbed the stairs to the restaurant, which was empty except for two women in the kitchen and a young man behind the bar. Yes, there was a bar and he was cleaning glasses. There were palm leaves on the walls carved into the shape of fish. It was a rather clever use of these wretched things. (I don't think I've mentioned growing up in Florida and having to "trim" the palm fronds from the pineapple palms in my mother's front yard....the spines nearest the tree are rather sharp and can pierce the skin...and it hurts!) The driver went over the list of choices for lunch. I'm excited to try Chilean food. I'd heard that it can be somewhat bland, but the seafood was yummy. First course: salad or empanada with shrimp and cheese. No contest there...shrimp and cheese empanada....I'd heard about empanadas, but I hadn't tried one yet. Second course...meat and a side...chicken, salmon, albacore and rice, fries, or mashed potatoes. Hmmmm...salmon? No, I'll go albacore. I like tuna...although the jokes on me...albacore is swordfish. Oops. After a bit of a rest stop (no facilities on the boats), we're herded back into the van for the short trip to the boat yard.
We pull into the yard. There are about 20 brightly colored boats sitting on the sand some with engines, some without. There are a few men and dogs milling about. One dog was almost as big as Emmett. Almost. The driver spoke to one of the men, we got out, and nothing seemed to happen. We all stood there for a few minutes. No one said anything, so we all just started wandering about the small beach. I stared out at the surf. The driver said it was calm today, but there were some decent waves crashing against the rocks just off the beach. A bit scary.
I spent the down time wondering how this is going to work work. Are they going to bring one of the moored boats in the close by harbor to the beach for us. That would probably involve wet feet as some point. Yuck. Or...were they going to bring one of the moored boats to the dock, of which the only way off the dock that I could see at this point are two rather LONG ladders. I didn't think the woman in the fashionable shoes will be happy with either of these scenarios. We waited. I snapped more photos. Thank goodness I had a 4 MB card in my camera because I was just a snap snap snapping away.
I note a statue of a saint on a rock near the harbor..snap...a female bitch, who has recently had puppies, running up the beach with the Spanish speaking couple from the tour...snapp, and a man in a beautiful sweater, painting his boat...snap. There are even llamas knitted into the sweater. I love it.
The boat with boatman and swamper (guy in back who steered and the guy in front with a pair of oars) threaded their way through the rocky cove and to the dock without incident. They even managed to steer clear or the snorkeler at the end of the dock who was trying to do something with a mooring. The young Spanish speaking couple made it onto the boat first. I watched. Down to the lower dock, grab the hand of the tour guide, step on the bench, and down into the boat. Simple enough except for the waves that were crashing against the boat and the dock. Timing was everything. My turn came. I watched one wave go by and ran for the boat. I really did NOT want wet feet for a cold three hour boat ride in overcast conditions. In and seated before the next wave came. YES! Once everyone was onboard, off we went. Up and down in fairly calm seas......putt putt putt
As we drove up the coast, the population thinned out considerably and the landscape became much dryer. There were more cacti and fewer trees. In fact, the trees pretty much disappeared as soon as we left La Serena. A few scattered houses dotted the landscape; water containers on platforms marked them all. There are signs that capitalism had hit the area north of La Serena, as we saw signs advertising unbuilt condominiums along the highway. The driver talked to us, in both English and Spanish, about the building going on in the area and how in ten years, he thought property values will be much higher than they were now. He told us how cheap the land was. It was almost a sales pitch...almost.
At one point along the drive, when we were at a low elevation and right along the coast, I turned to look up the mountain. I saw many cars and trucks on what appeared to be several different roads. Our driver came over the PA system to let us know that we'd be climbing up the mountains and that we might see some sun when we got to the top. Ahhh..it's not a whole series of roads that I saw. It was the switchbacks going up the side of the mountain. Now, I've driven in the Rockies (sorta) and in the German/Swiss Alps (sorta)...I say sorta, cause someone else was driving...but I'd never seen anything quite like this. I'm sure switchbacks like this exist in those areas, but I just didn't see them. Up we went...back and forth...back and forth...sometimes we raced trucks from higher parts of the road to the hairpin turns hoping the truck would slow down enough on that grade to stay in its own lane around the corner where we were sure to pass. Fortunately, today, all was well. We made it to the top, only to find more clouds. We couldn't see a thing except the drizzle on the windshield.
We slowed along the highway and made a left turn onto a bumpy dirt track. The driver came over the PA system to let us know that it would only be another 45 minutes on the dirt road! 45 MINUTES....the road was graded somewhat, but it was only about a lane and a half wide. It wasn't so bad, I thought. It was fairly straight. And, after all, the speed limit was 80 kilometers per hour. Incidentally, that's the same speed for Route 5, the Pan American Highway, just as you leave La Serena. We zoom along in the 13 passenger van with the rocks from the front tires banging the bottom of the van and the dirt from the road making it's way up through cracks in the floorboards. Thud...clang...thud....dink
As we drive, the tour guide mentioned that we may see Guanacos along the road as they were fairly common in this area. Yay, wildlife. He also pointed up to the rocky mountain side when he saw a herd of goats grazing above. There must have been 100 of them. Domesticated, he says. I saw a sign ahead with a pretty steep triangle and a truck on it. Hmmm...looks an awful lot like those steep grade signs in the mountains in the States. Sure enough, the driver down shifted and slowed. Over the speaker we hear him say that the misty weather makes it slippery. I was so happy that he waited until that particular moment to tell us this. We were nose down on the road with a blind corner ahead and a BIG drop in front of us. Theatrics? Perhaps a little. Down and around we went with more down and around to come....as we turned the corner, I saw a valley floor ahead of us. It's a very dry valley floor like the rest of the landscape. I can see where the road cuts across the valley, or at least I assume it's our road. I can't be sure at this point because there were several roads that branched off from our main road. Where they went was anyone's guess. It didn't seem possible that they went anywhere as there didn't seem to be anywhere to go other than into more desert. Down we go to the road that cut across the valley. We were following a Suzuki SUV. I wondered where they are headed. I watch as they started climbing out of the valley. Like the road down, this one is steep and switches back going up the side of the mountain. I hoped that we didn't meet any other cars out here. I didn't even think about what would happen should we have broken down out there.
Once at the top, the road straightened out again and our driver resumed his zooming across the desert on the straightaway (80 km/h, remember). As we flew along, I looked out the left window and swore that I saw my first Guanaco. Unfortunately, at that speed, we passed it before I could blink. Off we drove, gradually descending lower towards the sea. We could see the ocean by this time. It was deceptively close by the looks of it. Only 25 minutes more, the driver informed us. I delt somewhat tossed about by this time. I really didn't think their were shocks on the van. The driver pointed to what appeared to be groves of trees in the distance. Those were olive trees. The best olive oil in Chile is made there. We drove through that village with the olive trees. Lots of olive trees, colorful houses, a school, and a clinic along the main street. We didn't stop on the way to the boats. I was sure we'd stop on the way back.
As we pulled out of this village, the driver pointed out the 3 islands off the coast that made up the Reserva Nacional Pinguino de Humboldt. We were to visit two of the islands today: Isla Damas and Isla Choros. We'd circle Isla Choros to see the wildlife, but we were only allowed to get off the boat on Isla Damas. Hiking on the other islands is forbidden due to laws protecting the habitat of the penguins, sea lions, etc. At one time, the driver tells us the natives lived on the islands, but they were moved off when the islands became a national reserve.
We stopped in the next village, which was very close to the boat yard, and confirmed our lunch reservations at the local restaurant. It appeared to be the only one open as high season was still a couple of months away. It was still cold here and the wind was blowing steadily. We climbed the stairs to the restaurant, which was empty except for two women in the kitchen and a young man behind the bar. Yes, there was a bar and he was cleaning glasses. There were palm leaves on the walls carved into the shape of fish. It was a rather clever use of these wretched things. (I don't think I've mentioned growing up in Florida and having to "trim" the palm fronds from the pineapple palms in my mother's front yard....the spines nearest the tree are rather sharp and can pierce the skin...and it hurts!) The driver went over the list of choices for lunch. I'm excited to try Chilean food. I'd heard that it can be somewhat bland, but the seafood was yummy. First course: salad or empanada with shrimp and cheese. No contest there...shrimp and cheese empanada....I'd heard about empanadas, but I hadn't tried one yet. Second course...meat and a side...chicken, salmon, albacore and rice, fries, or mashed potatoes. Hmmmm...salmon? No, I'll go albacore. I like tuna...although the jokes on me...albacore is swordfish. Oops. After a bit of a rest stop (no facilities on the boats), we're herded back into the van for the short trip to the boat yard.
I note a statue of a saint on a rock near the harbor..snap...a female bitch, who has recently had puppies, running up the beach with the Spanish speaking couple from the tour...snapp, and a man in a beautiful sweater, painting his boat...snap. There are even llamas knitted into the sweater. I love it.Finally, a pickup truck arrived, which seemed to stir things up. We're told to put on life jackets, which had been sitting on one of the boats in the yard. I buckled mine over my hoody, my fleece, and my windbreaker. I expected cold, windy conditions out there. For once, I was right.
The pickup truck that arrived on the scene followed by the dog as big as Emmett appeared to have delivered fuel for the boat. Two big containers worth of gas. Several of the men in the boatyard grab one of the boats and utilized the ancient technology used at both Easter Island to move the heads and in Egypt to move the stones for the pyramids, a few logs under the boat to roll it down the beach to the water. I still wasn't sure how WE were going to get on these boats, which were more like launches than like open water sea faring vessels. They were about 20 feet long with four bench seats in the middle that each held about 3 people. The driver/tour guide herded us to the dock. The ladder is was, I think. Wrong again. What I couldn't see from our vantage point on the beach was a set of stairs down to an open grate metal platform followed by another set of stairs to a second open grate metal platform on the other side of the dock. That would make it much easier, I thought. Well, except for the woman in the fashionable heels. Potential disaster awaited her as the tide was such that the water level was just about two lower than the lower dock and the waves were running about 3 feet. The potential for wet feet was very high.
The boat with boatman and swamper (guy in back who steered and the guy in front with a pair of oars) threaded their way through the rocky cove and to the dock without incident. They even managed to steer clear or the snorkeler at the end of the dock who was trying to do something with a mooring. The young Spanish speaking couple made it onto the boat first. I watched. Down to the lower dock, grab the hand of the tour guide, step on the bench, and down into the boat. Simple enough except for the waves that were crashing against the boat and the dock. Timing was everything. My turn came. I watched one wave go by and ran for the boat. I really did NOT want wet feet for a cold three hour boat ride in overcast conditions. In and seated before the next wave came. YES! Once everyone was onboard, off we went. Up and down in fairly calm seas......putt putt putt
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