desert- the driest desert in the world. This is a day of broken wheels and mantequilla montañas.
First, we must leave at 7am instead of 4am because my host grandpa’s boat trailer wheel breaks
as he is arriving to Santiago. We finally depart, and receive a call from my host aunt saying that
they are running late because their tire was popped. Not long after, I wake up to a hushed string
of swear words as my host father pulls carefully over to the wing of the highway-the bolts that hold
the tire in place have overheated and the wheel was seconds away from flying off. We spend hours
searching for a mechanic, but all the shops are on vacation or cannot do what we need. Finally, my
host dad decides to try and do it himself. We are back on the highway again, running late but with
high hopes of arriving before dark. Luckily my host dad had brought two spare wheels because
then the other trailer wheel pops, and we must stop to change it. This catastrophe also pops a
small hole in the boat which will have to be fixed tomorrow. After triple checking everything, we are
back on the highway again and driving through mountains which look like big hunks of butter, which
have been cleanly sliced in various places in order for the highway to pass through.
Arrival. This is a magical place. We are in the desert next to the clear blue ocean. Our tents fill a
space facing the ocean and with a backdrop of never ending sand dunes. In the morning
everything looks like powdered sugar. The morning clouds and haze blend in perfectly with the
sugar sand, and it almost looks like the blurry white heaven or dream land they show in movies. As
the day progresses, the clouds disappear and everything comes into focus. The desert reflects the
sun and becomes blinding. The ocean beats steadily on the shore and when I dive in it is the perfect
temperature to float on my back for hours. The days pass by quickly, filled with fishing, long runs,
delicious food, and endless conversations. In our group, we are 8 in total, but right next to us is my
aunts family of 8, and on the other side is a group of 20ish family friends. I have a lot of names to
remember. Everyone here is incredibly friendly.
space facing the ocean and with a backdrop of never ending sand dunes. In the morning
everything looks like powdered sugar. The morning clouds and haze blend in perfectly with the
sugar sand, and it almost looks like the blurry white heaven or dream land they show in movies. As
the day progresses, the clouds disappear and everything comes into focus. The desert reflects the
sun and becomes blinding. The ocean beats steadily on the shore and when I dive in it is the perfect
temperature to float on my back for hours. The days pass by quickly, filled with fishing, long runs,
delicious food, and endless conversations. In our group, we are 8 in total, but right next to us is my
aunts family of 8, and on the other side is a group of 20ish family friends. I have a lot of names to
remember. Everyone here is incredibly friendly.
Settled in. We have our routine. A subsection of us wake up early to go fishing while the others sleep
another hour or two. My host dad, grandfather, and uncle always go fishing, and who else gets to go
with them rotates each day. Lazy mornings with bread and tea for breakfast are followed by reading
on the beach and playing a tennis-like-game which translated into English would be “small sticks.”
Sometimes I put on goggles and go searching the seafloor for crabs. When I spot one, I must quickly
scoop it up from behind to grab it by the legs before it can cut my fingers off. Sometimes they spot
me first and begin to do the typical crab dance-moving back and forth while snapping their claws
violently- in order to scare me away. We continue to go swimming as it heats up and then are cut
short when the fishermen come back with the catch of the day. While my uncle fillets the fish, my
aunt and I cook lunch. After eating lunch off paper plates in our laps, seated in camping chairs, I go
to the beach a kilómetro or so away to boogie board with some neighbors that are my age.
Sometimes my little brother comes looking for me and I teach him how to catch the waves. Soaked
in salt and feeling happy from flying on waves for a few hours, I head back to camp and convince a
different person everyday to go running with me because the viejos are worried about me going
alone. Running in the sand is much slower than normal, but the view and the air are perfect. One
day I get lucky and a seagull poops on me as I run. Upon returning, I head right for the water and
there is nothing better than taking a long swim in the chill ocean after sweating in the desert for an
hour. One day we go on an afternoon boat ride to visit the seals, explore an island full of bones and
bird poop, and to snorkel where there are more things to see. Along the purple shell seabed, I spot
many creatures, which my marine biologist neighbor tells me all about. We eat dinner late and stay
up late playing cards, laughing, and sipping wine and piscolas(or water in my case). Before heading
to the tent to sleep better than ever on air mattresses which stay surprisingly firm, it is necessary to
walk away from the camp, far away in the dunes to watch the stars with my cousin and aunt. The
stars her are crazy and now I understand why its called the Milky Way. The sky seems bigger and
we stay there, paralyzed by the stars and talking about everything and anything, until someone gets
too cold and we head back to finally go to sleep
another hour or two. My host dad, grandfather, and uncle always go fishing, and who else gets to go
with them rotates each day. Lazy mornings with bread and tea for breakfast are followed by reading
on the beach and playing a tennis-like-game which translated into English would be “small sticks.”
Sometimes I put on goggles and go searching the seafloor for crabs. When I spot one, I must quickly
scoop it up from behind to grab it by the legs before it can cut my fingers off. Sometimes they spot
me first and begin to do the typical crab dance-moving back and forth while snapping their claws
violently- in order to scare me away. We continue to go swimming as it heats up and then are cut
short when the fishermen come back with the catch of the day. While my uncle fillets the fish, my
aunt and I cook lunch. After eating lunch off paper plates in our laps, seated in camping chairs, I go
to the beach a kilómetro or so away to boogie board with some neighbors that are my age.
Sometimes my little brother comes looking for me and I teach him how to catch the waves. Soaked
in salt and feeling happy from flying on waves for a few hours, I head back to camp and convince a
different person everyday to go running with me because the viejos are worried about me going
alone. Running in the sand is much slower than normal, but the view and the air are perfect. One
day I get lucky and a seagull poops on me as I run. Upon returning, I head right for the water and
there is nothing better than taking a long swim in the chill ocean after sweating in the desert for an
hour. One day we go on an afternoon boat ride to visit the seals, explore an island full of bones and
bird poop, and to snorkel where there are more things to see. Along the purple shell seabed, I spot
many creatures, which my marine biologist neighbor tells me all about. We eat dinner late and stay
up late playing cards, laughing, and sipping wine and piscolas(or water in my case). Before heading
to the tent to sleep better than ever on air mattresses which stay surprisingly firm, it is necessary to
walk away from the camp, far away in the dunes to watch the stars with my cousin and aunt. The
stars her are crazy and now I understand why its called the Milky Way. The sky seems bigger and
we stay there, paralyzed by the stars and talking about everything and anything, until someone gets
too cold and we head back to finally go to sleep
.
And back again. After 11 beautiful days, we must take down our makeshift home in the desert, pack
it all in the truck, take one last dip in the ocean, and watch the most gorgeous beach I have ever
seen and mountains of golden sand disappear in the rear view mirror. It’s back to reality and showers
that don’t leave you with covered in sand and tasting like salt.
it all in the truck, take one last dip in the ocean, and watch the most gorgeous beach I have ever
seen and mountains of golden sand disappear in the rear view mirror. It’s back to reality and showers
that don’t leave you with covered in sand and tasting like salt.
wonderful
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