Arica

Arica, located in the far north of Chile just before the border with Peru, was supposed to be our last stop in Chile. Originally, we wanted to go from here to Lauca National Park, which is said to be somewhat similar in landscape to the area around San Pedro de Atacama. However, we realized that our minds were full of impressions from the last days and weeks, and we still had so much to think about and read up on, so we decided against it. Instead, we booked ourselves into a 4-star hotel with a pool and air conditioning and a huge breakfast buffet, a welcome change for our weary bodies after all the sagging mattresses and sweaty nights in the very basic hostels.

Arica used to belong to Peru but fell to Chile during the nitrate wars. Bolivia apparently still claims the city? Initially, the Chincurros people lived here, but eventually, the Incas came and then the Spaniards invaded.

The city is surprisingly uninspiring, with a lot of concrete (ruins) and a neglected, littered beach, a dusty and dirty desert climate, and the residents do not seem to have much money on average, exhibiting the rough hustle and bustle of a border town.

In the old town, there are several buildings designed by Gustave Eiffel, such as the customs house and the cathedral, which was built from cast-iron parts, and a Chincurro cemetery found by chance under a residential building.

Good restaurants were hard to find, but we enjoyed fantastic ceviche and fresh fish several times at the Mercado in a nice atmosphere among locals.

Otherwise, we were very lazy, splashed around, and just did nothing.

From here, we crossed into Peru with a completely uncomplicated border crossing (much better organized than the border crossings to/from Argentina) to Tacna, and from there to Arequipa, where we were to meet Marike's daughter Mercedes a few days later.