My time in San Pedro de Atacama both started and ended badly. Thankfully the bit in the middle was pretty good!

Having flown back to Buenos Aires from Iguazu, I had stayed overnight and was booked on an early morning flight to Santiago, with a four hour wait in Santiago before connecting to Calama. From Calama, I knew I needed to get a shared transfer to San Pedro, which apparently would be easy to arrange on arrival.

All went smoothly on the journey from BA to Santiago – apart from a brief hiccup when the immigration agent at Santiago asked for the name of my hotel in Chile, to which I replied “Hotel Jardin Atacama” (pronouncing Jardin the French way) to which he looked blank and asked me to repeat it. I repeated it, he still looked blank and so I got out my phone and showed him the reservation with the name printed on it, at which point he said “Ah, gardeen” (pronouncing the J at the beginning with a guttural g sound), smiled, made a note of the name and welcomed me into the country!

The wait at Santiago was long and dull, but the flight to Calama thankfully left and arrived on time. But I was quite tired by this stage, and keen to get to the hotel. As I came through into the arrivals hall I saw some agents from Transvip, the company I’d read handle transfers, and headed straight over to ask for a transfer. One walked me over to the desk where I paid the 15,000 Chilean pesos (just under £15) for a single journey. I didn’t want to book a return as I was thinking of trying to change my onward flights to avoid what I knew would be a similarly long wait at Santiago on the way to Punta Arenas, next on my itinerary.

Having paid the fare, I was directed to wait a short distance away from the desk, but given no information as to when we might be departing. Nobody else seemed to be waiting, and I saw various people head over to the desk and get directed outside to where all the transfer vehicles and taxis were waiting. Eventually I saw a group of people gathering together, all holding tickets just like mine, which they handed to a driver who led them outside. I rushed forward thinking surely I should be going with them but was told to wait and that we would be leaving “in 10 minutes”.

35 minutes later, three other people were waiting nearby and this appeared to be enough to form a minimum number, as we were assigned a driver who led us out to his minivan. We all climbed in gratefully, at which point he disappeared back to the terminal for another 20 minutes, eventually arriving back with a further 4 passengers to fill the remaining seats! Whereas we had been quite comfortable with four of us in the two back rows, and the two front seats next to the driver left empty, we now had 6 of us crammed in the back and 2 up front.

Having reached the arrivals hall just after 6.30, it was almost 8pm by this stage. It was a very cramped and uncomfortable journey, and I was feeling extremely irritable by the time we finally reached San Pedro, grateful that I hadn’t booked a return transfer and vowing to find a different company – or even stump up for a private taxi – for the way back!

Thankfully the receptionist at the hotel was perfectly charming and cheerful, giving me the good news that the room was already paid for (I’d forgotten they took payment as soon as I booked, almost 2 months ago!). I was given the key to my room, and flopped exhaustedly on the bed (it was shortly after 9pm at this stage). I was a bit peckish, but couldn’t face going out in search of food (I hadn’t been able to see much out of the windows of the van as it was dark and there appeared to be very little street lighting, so I was disoriented and had no idea where I was in relation to the town).

I could, of course, have consulted Google maps and figured it out, but after unpacking, spending a bit of time investigating better onward flight options, and managing to rebook my flights at thankfully very little cost, I decided to just get an early night. The room was wonderfully cool at this stage, nights in the desert still being quite cold, and I slept solidly, not experiencing any of the usual troubles I have sleeping at altitude (San Pedro is located at 2400m above sea level).

The next morning, after a very good breakfast, I headed out to explore the town and to try to book some excursions for the next few days.

The town is charming, with adobe buildings, dirt roads and a beautiful central square with lovely white church and municipal buildings. The main streets are full of restaurants, gift shops and travel agencies selling excursions to the various sites tourists come to see.

It is not remotely difficult to find and book excursions – I was able to book a half-day tour of Valle de La Luna for that afternoon, stargazing for the evening and a half-day tour of Valle Arcoiris (the rainbow valley) for the next day. I also booked a full day tour to Piedras Rojas (Red Stones) and the Miscanti and Miniques lagoons for the third day.

I had toyed with the idea of hiring a car and exploring on my own but all the reviews on Facebook of the various excursions were very good and I’d decided in the end that it would be far simpler to just do excursions for a few days and have a couple of days free to either relax or hire a bike and explore using that. This worked out very well.

The agency had explained to me that they would pick me up from my hotel for the excursions, with exact pick-up times coordinated via a WhatsApp group. Sure enough, I received an invitation to join a WhatsApp group, and was initially disappointed to notice that mine was the only U.K. mobile number in the group – there was one French number and the others all appeared to be Chilean or Brazilian. I had visions of yet again being the only native English speaker in the group.

The guide had given instructions in both English and Spanish as to the order of the pick-up, and various people were responding, all in Spanish. So when I saw a message pop up to say they were about to pull up at my hotel, I responded in Spanish to say I was outside.

The van arrived, and the guide, Sofi, jumped out to introduce herself, asking in surprised tones if I speak Spanish. I responded “si, un poco” and she smiled and opened the door for me to get in.

Once we’d picked up the remaining passengers she launched into an introduction in English, Spanish and Portuguese (a few of the passengers turned out to be Brazilian). But then she explained, in Spanish, what we were going to be seeing and doing over the next few hours, and then asked if everyone had understood. The Brazilians and French people all said they had, and I had actually understood most of it, so when she asked me directly I said yes, determined not to have a repeat of my Mendoza excursion being the only person needing an English translation.

And so we spent the entire afternoon speaking mostly Spanish! Sofi was lovely and we chatted a fair bit, with me asking her questions in Spanish if I could think of how to ask (in which case she’d respond in Spanish) or, if I asked a question in English she would respond in English. I explained to her that I can understand a lot more Spanish than I can speak, as I often just can’t think of the words I need quickly enough – but I’ll understand at least the gist of what someone is saying to me.

The Valle de La Luna (Moon Valley) itself is stunning, a landscape made up of high dunes and great solid formations of rock and minerals.

We stopped at a few different spots to walk around and take photos, then drove to the Valle de La Muerte (Death Valley) for a late afternoon picnic with plenty of pisco sour. The conversation flowed happily, with everyone speaking as much Spanish as they could, but asking Sofi to help out with English or Portuguese equivalent where some expression or other wasn’t understood. There was much laughter and general good humour – and we were all a bit disappointed when we had to pack up the remains of the picnic to head to our final viewpoint for sunset.

We had about 30 minutes at the viewpoint watching the sun set, then headed back to San Pedro; I was back at my room just after 8pm. A brief pause to relax before being picked up at 9pm for the stargazing tour!

The stargazing tour involved being driven to a remote location in the desert, where the absence of light and completely clear skies allow one to view the entire Milky Way and other planets with the naked eye. At this time of year, the moon rises very late (just after midnight) so was not yet up – our guide explained that this would only improve the view we had of the night sky. She pointed out Venus and Jupiter, as well as various constellations – I was absolutely mesmerised by Pleiades, which I could see brightening and dimming at different points so that it looked like the stars were dancing. We were also able to look at Venus and Jupiter through telescopes, allowing us to see the ring around Venus and the coloured bands on Jupiter. And of course, this being a tourist activity, we were encouraged to pose for a professional photograph with the night sky, which was sent to us afterwards (the cost was already included in the tour price, so we were spared the usual dilemma of whether or not to fork out for a professional photo!)

Just as we were starting to get really cold, we were invited over to an area where a picnic had been set up including hot chocolate, tea, pisco sour, wine and plenty of snacks. We all tucked in and then our guide took us through a brief slide show on a projector screen, showing how the size of the earth compares to that of other planets within the Milky Way and other galaxies.

We got back to San Pedro at about 12.30 and once again I fell exhausted into bed. Despite initially struggling to get to sleep because of the cold, I eventually dropped off and slept solidly until the alarm went off – with a 7.15 pick-up booked for the Valle Arcoiris tour a lie-in wasn’t an option. Breakfast only started at 7am but I managed a very quick cup of coffee and slice of toast before the van arrived to pick me up. I knew breakfast was included in the tour – all the tours seem to include at least one meal or picnic – but always prefer to get my caffeine kick before leaving the hotel if possible!

The Valle Arcoiris is a beautiful valley full of majestic and colourful rock formations – we stopped first to walk around a site that has a number of very old and well preserved petroglyphs, and had breakfast here before proceeding to the main site.

We had plenty of time to walk around the site – footpaths are clearly laid out and we were advised that straying from the paths is strictly forbidden. Which reminds me of an incident the previous day, at Las Tres Marias (part of the Valle de La Luna) when the strong winds blew one young man’s hat off his head, it landing just out of reach beyond the roped cordon at the edge of the path. He asked Sofi if he could step over the rope to retrieve it and was told no, best to leave it! So there it remained as we continued on our tour!

I got chatting to a Chinese lady at Valle Arcoiris- she looked a similar age to me and spoke very good English. She was two months into a six month tour of South America – she had initially been travelling with a friend but had got fed-up with her friend only ever wanting to eat at Chinese restaurants, and always insisting on flying or taking taxis everywhere rather than buses. The friend had apparently given up after six weeks and flown back to her home in Toronto – my companion admitted she was relieved to see the back of her as it left her free to travel by bus and eat wherever she liked! I admired her relish for long distance bus journeys – as I told her, I’m more than happy to use buses rather than taxis for short journeys, but I fully understand the friend’s desire to fly rather than get long distance buses.

Day 3 was the longest day – with a 6am pick-up there was no chance to have breakfast before leaving, but breakfast was provided when we stopped at the Tropic of Capricorn. We then continued on the the altiplanic Lagunas, Miscanti and Miniques, two absolutely beautiful lakes set amongst a backdrop of magnificent volcanoes. We could see flamingoes near the shore of Miscanti, but the footpath is set a fair way back and we were not close enough to get decent photos (at least not with the iPhone cameras that most of us were using).

From the lagoons we continued to Piedras Rojas and the Salar de Talar – an absolutely breathtaking location where a wonderfully laid out circular route allowed us to wander and take endless photos of the beautiful salt flats and surrounding volcanic landscape.

The guide had asked us to introduce ourselves on the drive to the Tropic of Capricorn. I did a basic introduction in Spanish, giving my name, the fact I’m from the U.K. and that this is my second visit to Chile, then I switched to English to explain that the previous visit was for skiing and that we had visited various different locations in Chile and Argentina. I had actually managed to explain the same details, in Spanish, two days ago with the aid of a couple of pisco sours, but sober and early in the morning it just felt like too much effort! The guide asked where I had learned Spanish and was very amused when I responded “Duolingo”.

The young lady next to me went next, copying me by introducing herself in Spanish as being from Japan, explaining that it’s her first time in Chile, then switching to perfect English. Much hilarity ensued when she admitted that she, too, has been learning Spanish on Duolingo! It turns out she’s actually lived in London for many years, having been sent to boarding school there at age 12. I told her about my former housemate, Shiro, who similarly had been sent to a boarding school in the U.K. at a young age and didn’t seem to have had a very happy experience – she expressed surprise that I knew someone else who had been sent over to boarding school as it’s not common apparently. But she said that despite being very homesick the first couple of years, she had adjusted well to life in the U.K. and enjoyed her time at boarding school – and as a teenager it had ended up being her parents who missed her more than she missed home!

Another couple of girls turned out to be from London – corporate lawyers whose law firm allows them to take a 3 month sabbatical once they are fully qualified and every three years thereafter. They were about a month into their 3 month trip, having started in Ecuador and the Galápagos Islands.

While at Piedras Rojas I heard my name called out and saw Sofi, the lovely guide from a couple of days ago. She came over and gave me a hug, looking delighted to see me – I felt like a traitor having booked this tour through a different agency as I’d wanted to compare the service, but she didn’t seem at all bothered. With her was Carlos, a Brazilian gentleman who had also been on the Valle de La Luna tour, and we also greeted each other enthusiastically, but having spent most of the morning speaking English I suddenly found I couldn’t switch easily to Spanish, the only language we actually had in common, so it was a very brief hello before we went our separate ways with our groups.

From Piedras Rojas (the highest point of the tour, at about 4200m) we headed down to our lunch spot with yet another magnificent view of the surrounding volcanoes.

From there it was a long and very hot journey to Laguna Chaxa, with a brief stop along the way at the village of Socaire to admire the church and use the toilets.

It was mid afternoon by this stage, the desert was baking and the air conditioning in the van wasn’t working. The driver and guide had the front windows open to let in air but the windows in the passenger area were non-opening and very little air was reaching the rear part of the minivan The one downside I found to the tours in the Atacama is that the agencies tend to use 13-17 seater minivans and fill every seat, so when it gets hot as it did on this occasion, it can make for a very uncomfortable ride. The 4 unfortunate souls wedged into the back row looked like they were going to melt by the time we reached Laguna Chaxa!

At Laguna Chaxa we were able to admire lots of flamingoes endlessly dredging brine shrimp from the salty waters – I found it amusing watching them, heads down, slowly making their way back and forth hoovering up the little shrimps and only occasionally lifting their heads.

From Laguna Chaxa it was another hour or so back to San Pedro – thankfully the driver had managed to fix the aircon while we’d been looking at the flamingoes, so the journey back wasn’t too bad. But it had been a very long day and I had a persistent headache by this stage, from a combination of the altitude and the heat.

The next day was a lazy day, mostly hanging out at the hotel, sitting in the garden reading my book and enjoying the lovely cool swimming pool. I noticed a group of three German gentleman who appeared from some of the rooms facing the garden and sat down nearby – they were in cycling gear and looked very hot indeed!

On the final morning I was having my breakfast when one of the German guys walked in, greeted me (I was the only person in the room at this stage) and went over to the buffet – he looked a bit confused as to what the various jugs contained so I explained which was coffee, hot milk and water, and left him to help himself. He sat at a table nearby but kept addressing comments and questions to me, and eventually, having finished eating, I picked up my coffee and went over to join him, figuring it was easier than calling out to each other across the room. He proved to be very good company, telling me how he and his friends had arrived at Calama the previous day after 37 hours of flying, and had attempted to cycle to San Pedro, but had been defeated by the heat and the altitude and had ended up calling the hotel and asking them to send a minivan to pick them up. No wonder they had looked so hot when I’d seen them the previous day!

Eventually the other two arrived and we all sat chatting – it was lovely to linger over breakfast drinking endless cups of coffee, and after my fifth cup I felt sufficiently caffeinated to head out and hire a bike for the day – something I’d been vaguely toying with doing but not really feeling enthusiastic about. But the conversation with Thomas, Jens and Giovanni about their cycle plans, had spurred me on.

The bike I hired turned out to be of excellent quality, with sturdy tyres, front suspension and good gearing (not that gears were needed much as the route I took was mostly flat). This was a really good route that I’d read about, to a beautiful canyon called Gargante del Diablo, where one can cycle into the canyon and then back out before continuing to a small settlement called San Isidro, which has a very photogenic chapel. The route is on a dirt road that has virtually no traffic besides other cyclists.

I had been told to return the bike by 4.15pm, having paid for a 6-hour rental, but was hot and exhausted by just after 2pm, so returned the bike and headed to my favourite cafe, Jardin Meraki, for a delicious lunch of pizza and fresh lemonade with rica rica (a local herb). I had discovered this restaurant a couple of days previously and just really enjoyed the beautiful garden setting as well as their lovely food and drink options. I don’t have a photo of the lemonade but the mango, orange and coconut smoothie shown below was equally delicious!

I slept extremely poorly the final night – I had been finding the nights were getting progressively hotter, and had been sleeping progressively badly over the last few nights. I had booked a taxi for 6.30 to take me to the airport for my 9.30 flight – I had looked into getting a shared transfer but the transfer company would only provide a time window of 5.30 – 6.10 for pick-up, which I really wasn’t happy with, so had decided to stump up for a private transfer.

Thankfully I was dressed and mostly packed when there was a knock on my door at 6.07 – the receptionist standing there saying that my taxi was outside! I was stunned – it was far too early! I couldn’t find the Spanish words to say much more than “he’s early” and ended up zipping up my suitcase and grabbing the few remaining loose items, the unexpectedly early arrival having thrown me into a panic. I’d booked the taxi through booking.com – they usually send the driver’s details with an Uber-style tracking link, and they had texted me the name of the driver, but when I clicked on the link I’d been sent, it wasn’t showing any tracking information.

The receptionist came outside with me as I was still insisting this couldn’t be my taxi – but the driver had asked for me by name! I asked the driver why he was so early and he showed me the order on his phone – the agency had booked him for 6.15! I was livid – having paid extra specifically so that I could set my own pick-up time, it was maddening that the taxi company had decided to ignore my chosen time. And as I hadn’t given them my flight details, I knew it had nothing to do with them thinking I needed to be at the airport at a specific time. Far more likely- and this was confirmed when the driver, rather than dropping me off at the drive through departures area, drove into the paid parking area instead – the taxi company had bumped my pickup time forward to allow the driver to get to the airport in time to pick someone else up off one of the flights arriving just after 7am.

As soon as I’d managed to drop my bag off, I got straight onto the online chat with booking.com to put in a complaint about how the booking had been handled. I explained to the agent that the entire reason I booked a taxi rather than a shared transfer was so I could set the time, so to have the driver turn up 25 minutes early was particularly maddening- particularly at that time of the morning! She was very sympathetic and has promised to raise an investigation to find out what happened, but I’m not really expecting anything to come of it. It’s just a shame that it made my departure from the hotel and San Pedro so rushed and stressful, when I’d expected it to be completely the opposite!