Pisco Elqui

Are you in the mood for a mystical experience?  Well, head to Pisco Elqui!  That's right: this sleepy town has everything to heal your soul and transcend you to other worlds.  Of course, that's not what Christy and I were looking for, but we did get in some great relaxation.  

In order to get to this desert pueblo in between the Andes Mountains, we took a seven-hour overnight bus ride from Santiago to La Serena, then another two-hour ride to Pisco Elqui.  Just imagine how we smelled when we arrived at the hostel at nine in the morning.  Thankfully, our room was ready, so we threw our bags in, drank some hot tea, and started our exploration of the town.  

In the hour we walked around (that's all it takes), we saw maybe five people out and about.  Five people! And some of them could've been repeats!  Luckily, we ended up finding a horseback riding tour that we booked for the next day.  Plus, we toured a pisco plant.  Pisco is a strong liquor both Chileans and Peruvians drink and is what this valley is known for.  

The next day, Leo, our guide, drove us up the mountains a ways to ride the horses.  As Leo was showing us how to control the horses, his started trying to buck him off and continued to do so for the next two hours.  Christy's horse was big-time cautious and wouldn't go over the bridges without Leo guiding it.  Mine, on the other hand, was okay to lead when Leo's horse was having issues and crossed the bridges with my encouragement.  What can I say?  I'm a natural!

We pretty much traversed through rocky, dry terrain until we came to the river and had a snack before turning back again.  Unfortunately, we didn't get to gallop, but it was a different part of the valley to see, and it felt good being on a horse once more.

The garden area of the hostel was our favorite part.  There were hammocks scattered about, birds chirping, flowers blooming, and a gentle breeze to lull us to sleep for our afternoon naps.  Plus, the greenery here was a welcome sight.  Pisco Elqui is a desert, and I don't mean the pretty type of desert that surrounds the Phoenix area.  I mean the ugly, barren-type of desert that sucks all the moisture out of your body until you're a walking bag of wrinkles.  (Can you tell I've gotten used to the Cartagena humidity?)  

That night, we laid outside watching the stars pop out until the full moon dominated the sky.  The first shot is with my camera; the second is with the hostel owner's.  Quite a bit of a difference, no?

Our final day there, we rented a couple mountain bikes to ride the eleven kilometers to Horcon, an extreme hippie village that gets by on its artisan skills.  It's a good thing we didn't know about the "hills" we had to climb.  Best....workout....ever.  After browsing the shops (and noticing a funny smell), we grabbed a bit to eat and started the journey back.  Boy, was this time around easier!  We were flying down the road at an alarming rate most of the way.  In fact, I had my brake on the entire time for fear of a painful death.  

Three kilometers from town, my left pedal came off...the whole pedal, including the arm.  My riding days were over, but I was still able to coast a bit here and there.  It's a good thing I have long legs and can propel myself along while sitting on the seat.