Vero's Adventures in Chile and Argentina

Although petroglyphs appear on virtually every T-shirt sold in the town of San Pedro, I had no idea that actual petroglyphs existed before I came here. None of the guidebooks mention them and only 1 of the 10,000 tourist agencies offers them as a destination. So when I saw pictures of these carved ancient artworks on the walls of Maximus Experience, my heart jumped. I immediately wanted to go. Alas, every agency in town has a four person minimum and even with the new friends that come with travel, I couldn´t think of anyone I knew sufficiently well that I could bully into the trip.

So every day I went into the little Maximus office on the main, dusty drag of San Pedro, and every day Evelyn would kindly greet me and then apologetically tell me that no one had expressed any interest besides me.

But on my last day in the desert, Evelyn had good news. Apparently my persistent nagging paid off and the owner of Maximus, Saturnino (que nombre!) relented. As it turns out, he loves them too and thinks more people should study them.

Although the petroglyphs are located not far from town (just off the main road to Calama) we encountered virtually noone for the entire morning. What we did encounter is a valley where surely dinosaurs once roamed. What I remember most about Valle del Arcoiris (Valley of the Rainbow), aside from the petroglyphs of course, is the green hillsides. They are the strangest shade of green, as if dyed wwith cryptonite. And as always, just when you think you have seen every possible result of erosion in the desert, there were strange new rock formations to blow me away.

The only person, aside Saturnino, that I saw all day was a man tending goats who crossed our path. Apparently the population of this valley was nonexistent until a few years ago, and now numbers a whopping 10. Prior to this surge in population, the only ones I know of are those of many thousands of years ago who carved their legacy directly into the desert´s rocks. We saw vicunas, llamas, flamingoes, foxes, and men sitting in ritualistic positions with strange hats or lines coming out of their heads that reminded me of Egyptian friezes. After seeing vicunas, flamingoes, llamas, and guanacos in the desert, I have to say that seeing images of them made thousands of years earlier felt like a powerful connection to the past. And what´s great about ancient art is that it depicts, very often, animals so as an art historian you need to be able to tell your llamas from your vicunas (I knew my budding camelid expertise would be good for something!) Actually I can´t really tell them all apart on the rocks, but that´s a good excuse to read up and come back to this magical place.

Time for bed. Besos,
Veronica