Top Gear

Cue "Jessica," the Top Gear instrumental theme song... Top Gear Atacama.

We arrived at Calama Airport, and a man wearing a white lab coat handed us an envelope with our instructions... Or at least, the man from the hire company gave us the paperwork (humor me on this). Inside, it read, "How many miles can you drive? Purchase (or rent) a car suitable for endless stretches of straight roads across the sandy desert, treacherous high-altitude passes, and roads without designation. Tomorrow you’ll be driving through the vastness of the Atacama attempting to see as many sites as you possibly can."

Well before the crack of dawn, precisely 4:15 am, we fired up our raging red beast... stuck it in reverse and woke up anyone within cooee. It made the most horrendous scream with every beep as it backed up through the tiny laneway.

With the GPS set, off to El Tatio Geysers, we chugged into the black hole of night. We’d be climbing high over the next few hours, to around 4300m. Battling a single lane, pothole & deep trench-riddled dirt road. Happily letting local maniacs in their minibuses go flying by. The cover of darkness made the unknown emptiness around rather terrifying. Were there deep ravines off to one side? Or how about giant sandstone boulders just waiting to crunch? You’d never know as everything just had this ominous shade of black, even with high beams on. Or was it just altitude planning tricks?

With Captain Slow at the helm (yes I am happy with that title), we arrived at El Tatio somewhat later than expected. It wasn’t the easiest of drives, to say the least. We purchased our tickets and took back off the trail. A couple of moments later, we’d spot hundreds of steaming geysers spurting hot steam into the dark yet brightening sky. They’re like small teapots at the boil. El Tatio is recognized as the highest geothermal field in the world and the largest in the Southern hemisphere. Geysers with an average of 76cm (from a reliable source), some tiny, some much larger were splattered within the valley.

Having been spoiled to have previously witnessed Old Faithful in Yellowstone and spending time in Rotorua, New Zealand, I can say these geysers didn’t have the same impact. Maybe it was the height and drama of having to wait for Old Faithful to shoot off like a rocket, or the vibrant colors and punchy odors of NZ. These two just play on multiple senses to the extreme in comparison. Or, maybe I was just put off by the stadium-filling crowds wandering around?!

The way back down the mountainside was a heck of a lot more enjoyable. We could see! Who would have thought that could make such a difference? Out went Captain Slow, and in jumped Hammond. The fire truck flew effortlessly around the bends and down the same shocking dirt road. Downhill in daylight, the feeling of weaving and dodging potholes was closer to a steep slalom slope... loads of fun & less bumpy.

Three-quarters back to San Pedro de Atacama, we jumped in for a quick dip in the desert oasis. A canyon of leafy grasses and a thermal river running through. A perfect way to warm up after the bitter morning in the El Tatio valley. Though it wasn’t for long as we’re on a mission, we had a deadline to beat. Be at the brown shipping container in Socaire no later than 2 pm, for a 3 pm entry to Piedras Rojas (Red Rocks) and Miscanti and Miñiques (high plateau lagoons). An agonizing fill-up at the sole petrol station in SPdA didn’t help!

Racing through the desert, at now-normal highway speeds on normal asphalt roads, felt incredible. A sense of relief from our backs as they were no longer being jolted and getting thrown back and forth. We had a couple of hundred kilometers to travel, and time was definitely not on our side. The deadline came and went, just like the Tropic of Capricorn that we just zoomed across. Our crammed morning was just too much!

So, we arrived at the brown shipping container close to an hour late, blaming the fuel stop for the majority of time wasted. Usually at parks and reserves, this wouldn’t matter, but not here. Our reserved spot was the last entry for the day, and it was still going to be another bit of a drive. We couldn’t see both spots; according to the ranger, it was just too far this late in the day. He offered us the choice of one location or the other, just not both. The lagoons or Red Rocks? A 30 km or a 60 km drive?

Decided. Off to Piedras Rojas we went, the longer of the two journeys, of course… well, we had to remember that we had a TG challenge to uphold. Being the last ones through the gate for the day was fantastic. Wildlife aplenty could be spotted; guanacos darting across the road and a couple of feathered suri (South American emu) roamed the grasslands. The landscapes were exceptional, around every corner new colors were spotted, and many wow moments occurred. At Piedras Rojas, the winds howled across the basin of pale turquoise water and white salt shallows. The Red Rocks contrasted magnificently against the blue sky and made for some spectacular landscape photos. At this point, we were satisfied, we’d made the right call (or that’s what we’re telling ourselves).

The return journey to SPdA was peacefully straight, and a sense of calm was felt as golden desert hues were cast into the truck. It had been a wonderful day, albeit a long one.