Putre
 Steep Drive, Headache

Monday July 23

We arrived in Putre late Sunday afternoon after driving for a mere 120 kilometers on ruta 11 from Arica. I didn't think this drive would take more than two hours, even knowing that we would be climbing into the mountains, but more than 11,000 feet of elevation gain in little more than 60 miles makes for slow progress, if you care to preserve the mechanical condition of the vehicle you are driving (and we do!).  

At lunch in restaurant "Kilometer 38.5,"  a white-haired elderly couple doted on us like grandparents, and the patriarch of the establishment insisted we try his pickled lamb's testicles, which didn't taste too bad (surprisingly mild), although he warned us not to eat them more than once or twice a year because of the high cholesterol. I'm thinking once or twice a lifetime will suffice. 

We had hoped to sleep at a funky tourist outpost run by two norteamericanas because a guidebook says they offer beds cheap and also because it would be virtually the only lodging option between Arica and Putre - the thought being that spending one night at a few thousand feet elevation lower than Putre might ease the transition. When we pulled into the parking lot, there was an eerie sense of abandonment, although it could have been that they were just out on a grocery run. We peeked in the windows and rapped a few doors, but soon decided to move on to Putre. 

By the time we made it to Putre, dusk was upon us and I quickly parked in front of a sign saying "Hotel Kali" (the first reasonable looking establishment we came to), because Anna was desperate to use the toilet. We escorted her in the door and a kind old woman consented to show her to a bathroom and then consented to show me the rooms. It appears to be a brand-new facility with potential, and after a brief look at the clean rooms with new carpeting, it was easy to decide to plunk down and spend the night. 

Lynn had doled out Diamox (anti-altitude sickness medicine) to anyone who wanted it in the morning and Anna, Tom, and Lynn herself took up the offer. Geoff and I declined, thinking that 11,000 ft without serious strenuous activity wouldn't be a problem. For Geoff it wasn't. For me it was. I slept fitfully with a headache that was just bad enough to disrupt my sleep, but not bad enough that I would get out of bed to suffer the cold air in our rooms (our rooms had no heat, which is the norm for Putre, even though it usually freezes here at night in the winter). By morning, my head was pounding and it was an extreme effort to crawl out of bed to find the Diamox and gulp one down. It helped a little but not enough, so I took three Motrin a half hour later (despite the Diamox warning not to take with aspirin - I really needed relief).  Eventually, I felt human and could join the family for breakfast.

We spent the rest of the day checking out the town and moving to the "other" hotel - the one we had pre-paid reservations for.  It is expensive because of where it is much more so than because of what it is, the main amenity being that each drafty room contains the luxury of one small electric space heater. As we have learned, these precious heaters can keep the room a handful of degrees above freezing when the thermometer plunges at night. For Putre, this is quite a luxury, and apparently Hotel Las Vicuñas is the only facility where an extravagance such as this is lavished upon the wealthy tourists.

Lower Lluta River Valley, not far from Arica.

An intriguing feature of the high altitude desert (about half-way up the climb), is the presence of these tall candelabra cactus.

Scenes from Putre.

Restaurant adjacent to the hotel where we spent Sunday night. We've become very accustomed to this restaurant - but fortunately have found another good one in town as well.

-Rolf