Up Close And Personal With A "Geezer"

Sunday 4 February

It seemed we had only just gone to bed before the alarm was ringing again – it was still dark, with an almost full moon and lots of stars in the sky.

We made our way to the early breakfast sitting served in the bar. It was just a simple meal of fruits – more strawberries, melon and pineapple, with meats cheeses and bread, juices and teas or coffees – no cereals. But Colin has cut right down on breakfasts recently, and was quite satisfied with just some fruit and ham, juice and tea.

When we piled into the minibus we found we were once again with four of the Spanish group and Anna, and today Chino was our guide. We did have some conversation with a couple of the Spanish men, as they spoke some limited English. It was still dark as we made our way from the hotel, along the plain, and up through a mountain pass. We passed through a couple of small isolated villages, and several of which had been abandoned – they had been small mining settlements, that had failed. We passed over a few rivers, round some lakes where teal and coots were already up and swimming in the coming dawn, and along some very narrow “trails” just wide enough for one vehicle, high up on the mountainsides, with sheer drops to narrow gorges below. We saw vicunas, scavenging amongst the sparse itcha grass for a tasty morsel. All the time we were climbing, from just under 3,000 metres at St Pedro, to 4,300 metres at the geysers and the journey had taken just over two hours. We stopped to register our arrival at the visitor centre, and the thermometer showed -7.5 degrees C. Chino by this time had on two fleecy jackets, zipped up to his chin, a hat (over his cap), scarf and gloves again in a fleecy material, so that he looked like he was ready for an assault on Everest. But when we emerged from the minibus at the main viewing area of the geysers, it wasn’t as cold as I had thought it would be. There were four main geysers and several smaller ones and as we wandered around, we were amazed at the tall columns of steam spouting from the ground. Below the earth’s surface water passed over the red hot magma, before being pressured up through cracks in the ground and condensed into pillars of steam. Some of the steam condensed as it came into contact with the ground, and formed small rivulets which ran to join a larger stream and eventually a river, while in other parts the water immediately froze into icy slicks. The water is boiling as it comes out of the earth – which here is 86 degrees C – not100 degrees C that we usually associate with boiling point –due to the immense pressure from below. We saw mineral deposits in a variety of shades of green, yellow and orange – representing the presence of copper, sulphur and iron under the ground. Walking back to the minibus we passed a large pool, which was full of people bathing and swimming. They did not seem to feel the cold as they got out of the water – probably the same effect as the thermal springs in Peru had on us.

We traveled to the other side of the valley, where we could see several more smaller geyers spraying smaller spouts of steam in the air. We parked and strolled amongst hundreds of small steam sprays, as well as some deeper holes resounding with a “whump, whump” as the water was pushed upwards, sometimes spraying liquid mud around the opening as well. Every vent was different, and the heights of the plumes of steam varied from minute to minute. At one point, I was watching a very small leakage of hot water, as it made it’s way to an icy patch and froze, when suddenly, a metre or so in front of me, another spout surged into air – just a few feet, but sudden and violent – lasting for no more than a couple of minutes, before becoming dormant again. There were a couple of mounds of crystallized ice in scaly patterns, coloured with mineral streaks, looking a little like beehives dotted around the field. We saw a large chimney of steam (concentrated like that from a steam engine funnel) some way over the far side to where we were, and Colin, Anna and I made our way towards it. When we got there, another vent, right next to the “chimney” of steam, suddenly spurted high in the air, completely enveloping its neighbour. We watched for a few minutes, and then walked back towards the rest of the group. By the time we reached them the new spout had disappeared.

It was now time to return to the minibus and make our way to the hot springs, about 1 ½ hours away, where we would be able to swim. We started slowly on the downward journey from the high altitude, and after about an hour, one of the Spanish ladies suddenly felt very poorly and was almost passing out. Her husband laid her down across the bench seat, raised her feet and tended her as best he could in the rocking minibus, as we traveled over the dusty rutted roads, desperate to reach the lower altitudes. Not long after, the other Spanish lady started feeling unwell too, and moved to sit in the guide’s seat at the front of the vehicle. These ladies obviously needed to return to the hotel as soon as possible, but we were near the hot springs by now. Apparently another group was also due to visit the springs this morning – the culmination of a 2 ½ hour walk – and Chino found that they had room for us to join them and return to the hotel in their minibus. We were dropped off at the top of the gorge, and their minibus came to collect us and take us down the “goat track” to the springs at the base – bringing with us white toweling robes (like we have in the bathroom), and some extra drinks. We were met at the bottom by Stephanie, the other guide, who took us along a decked walkway, to a stone gazebo where three others were drying off in the sun. The hot springs were a series of pools, amongst a plantation of tall bamboo grass fronds, making each pool into a small private enclave. Each area had a deck to sit out on and a stone gazebo with table and a couple of benches. On our table was an impressive display of smoked salmon and limes, parma ham, goat and cow cheeses, nuts and dried fruits and bread, with wines, beers, juices and water to drink – a veritable feast.

Colin and I already had our swimmers on, so we quickly stripped off. I made for the hot pool just a few steps away, down some more decking, with Anna, while Stephanie seduced Colin with a glass of wine! – he forgot about swimming for a while, donned his white robe and swigged his drink. The pool was nowhere near as hot as the thermal pools at Chevay, and was more like a pleasantly warm bath. It was only just over waist deep, so we were able to float around and enjoy the refreshing experience. After about ten minutes, we came out of the warmth and the air around – that had felt so warm before – now felt quite chilly, so we donned our robes and had something to drink and eat. Soon we were all back in the pool, making the most of one last swim before it was time to return to the hotel. There were changing rooms further round the decking, for everyone to use.

We made our way back to the hotel, and despite our “appetizers” at the pool, ate another gourmet meal – very strangely Colin and I both choosing the same dishes – squid in a rich tomato sauce (Colin had his with polenta, but that’s not a favourite of mine), followed by spinach and ricotta ravioli with salad, and plum and apricot compote flavoured with jasmine and sprinkled with finely chopped pistachios. Very delicious. As we were quite late back for lunch, by the time we finished our meal I only had just over an hour till my next activity – a horse riding lesson and ride! Colin had opted for an easy afternoon, doing not a lot while I was out.

I arrived at the stables (near the large front courtyard) at the appointed hour, to meet Ronaldo, my instructor, who was helping to saddle three huge brown horses – about three times the size of those in Mongolia – the third horse for one of the stablehands, who would help with the lesson and follow behind me all the time. I was kitted out with leather chaps and a helmet and taken to block to mount this hopefully docile mare. It was all I could do to stretch my legs over the saddle, let alone reach the stirrups. But a man came and shortened the length of the stirrup straps so my feet could fit in the leather “shoes”. The horse was called “Pamperino” - more than 15 hands high and I later found out she was 17 years old – a bit of an old nag like me. She started wandering around the courtyard area with me hanging on for grim death, until Ronaldo came up on another huge mount and told me we would be going to the practice ring to learn to control the horse, and then out on the open road for a ride!

We reached the practice area by “walking” down narrow lanes between adobe walls, that were all part of the hotel’s grounds - we had been told when we arrived that the hotel covered about ten hectares but hadn’t had time to explore. I practiced walking round the edge of the square, turning sharp corners, and stopping, for about twenty minutes before Ronaldo decided it was time to brave the roads! We ventured out on to a quiet road, with nothing but fields around, walking steadily, when suddenly a car zoomed past us at breakneck speed! Luckily Pamperino didn’t bat a “horse eyelid”. We continued on, traveling along more roads and country lanes, over open fields, stony plateaus and along dry river courses. Pamperino and I seemed to get on fine, even when we stopped for a drink of juice – thoughtfully brought along by Ronaldo. The sun was still burning hot, even though it was now well after 18.00. We had a little trot, starting because we went down a short slope, but we seemed to manage. By the time I returned to the hotel, my thighs were beginning to feel achy from the unusual sitting position, but altogether I had enjoyed the experience – Ronaldo said I should be able to ride any horse now – well walk a docile beast anyway. It was surprising just how exhausting the whole experience was, and I needed a large raspberry juice and some water to relieve my thirst.

Back in the room, Colin had been speaking to Juz and sorting his case for tomorrow’s flight to La Serena, via Santiago - let’s hope our experience this time will be an improvement on the last two visits. We had found out that our new flight time of 09.25 meant that we had to leave the hotel at 07.00! Yet another early start.

We wandered to the bar before dinner and the barman persuaded Colin to have a ‘martini’ – 99% Bombay Sapphire gin and a splash of vermouth! – with a twist of lemon rind, of course. I just had more of their delicious red wine – but one drink was enough – we wanted clear heads in the morning. On our first morning here, we had been told that the hotel would be 90% full by Sunday night – they have 52 rooms in total – and when we arrived at the restaurant tonight, there were several tables laid for large groups. It soon transpired most of these new people were all on one tour – Brazilians – who didn’t actually seem to fit in with the ambience of the previous few days - shouting across between tables, still wearing the hats when eating, and generally slovenly. But we were shown to a table for two, far away from the crowd, and enjoyed our meal - aubergine and tomato tart, conger eel (a flat while fillet, very different from the “jellied” type eels we had expected) and lemon meringue pie (where the lemon filling almost missing, but the meringue was thick and sweet) for Colin and pumpkin soup, the aubergine and tomato tart with salad for my main course, followed by red berry sorbet, in a brandy snap basket. Loads more wine and as Tim (40 ish, white, posh speaking, but ok - his partner is Sam – middle eastern origin, late 30’s – toffee nosed – an affected English accent – and epitomizes gay behaviour - who is something to do with the top brass of the Conservative Party in London – and boring – enough to make one consider who you are voting for) described his claim to fame as that he sat behind Orlando Bloom on the way to Sanitago- where, upon landing the Police promptly arrested him (Tim) for an hour with for no reason – but refused to call the Ambassador!) said – you can go on activities every day, or you can sit round the pools and bar and get drunk – but here you can’t do both, so you are paying for one option or another!

After checking and sending a few emails, it was time to set the alarm for tomorrow morning at 05.45. We trust the Hacienda is going to emulate this facility – but that would be extremely difficult!