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In the morning I say goodbye to Omar Senior. Junior is still with his girlfriend and Gladys is taking care of her sick granddaughter. Omar Senior gives me a bag of Merqen. Very nice family.

I buy some oatmeal and other essentials; after all, I have to be self-sufficient again now.

Terminal 1 for domestic flights is packed.

A German Shepherd is flying in the cabin and is regularly gently moved out of the aisle by the flight attendants.

Arriving in Calama, northern Chile, there is no airport bus again.

I take a taxi to the bus station. The taxi driver tells me that people here work in large copper mines and get a "clean salary", i.e. accommodation and meals provided. Otherwise, the city does not seem particularly livable either, on the outskirts of the Atacama Desert.

We drive through dusty streets past a large landfill, many windmills, and shrines for traffic victims. After a while, the taxi driver proudly points out the local park, which is located along a river that originates in Bolivia, according to him the largest in the world.

After a 90-minute bus ride, I arrive in San Pedro and it actually rains a few drops, a rare occurrence. San Pedro is very touristy, but still a nice little desert village. I am alone in the six-bed room at the Hostal Rural, not much going on.

The only person in charge is the volunteer from Brazil at the reception. She is not allowed to leave, so I bring Nestlé condensed milk from the minimarket upon request. I cook pasta with tomato sauce and the Brazilian girl has condensed milk with chocolate powder, a Brazilian specialty. Apparently, everyone in South America loves condensed milk stuff. I try it. It tastes like over-sweetened chocolate pudding.