[Above: Llama-like Alpacas on the Bolivia-Chile border.]

Journal by Adam Burgess

To the left and right of northern Chile's two-lane highway is the most peculiar terrain. Its like fields of the largest dirt clods you’ve ever seen for as far as the eye can see. My mind can only imagine another ancient civilization left their impressive mark by growing gigantic oxen, tying them to telephone-pole-sized ploughs and had them churn up the desert floor endlessly. The dirt here is a pinkish tan and nothing grows. We spent the day driving through the End of the World’s largest gorge. I’m glad to be down, safely.

For hours our cars followed the path carved into the side of the dunes. Over the roadsides the sand face continued its sheer drop for thousands of feet down into a slightly green valley. Every few turns another wreath-covered cross or little house inscribed with names appeared where one’s fate entailed tumbling helplessly for 4000 feet, almost as scary as plummeting with women and children in an airliner.

Yesterday we drove for hours from La Paz, Bolivia through the Chilean border and descended 14,000 feet to the coast of Chile. We took off at 6am without breakfast. Five hours later, at the border, we found ourselves surrounded by snow-covered volcanoes and alpacas. Alpacas are interesting creatures. They walk like four-legged chickens, are covered with fantastic maroon, black and tan wool, when they see you they “meeep” and they taste like a small cow.

After passing through the border we began to drop. Within an hour or so we came down about 13,000 feet and all of a sudden I could breathe again. I love oxygen. Hunger was rife and as we rounded another corner of the desolate Chilean desert I noticed on the side of the road the most exquisite little abode. A refurbished train carriage was adorned with a hand built windmill that twirled in the evening wind. Scattered around this nucleus was sheltered seating under driftwood structures and tarps. I hailed the others over the CB radio and convinced them all to turn around for food. I couldn’t resist such an interesting composition. We pulled the ever-so-common three point turn in the highway and rolled into the desert café. Two beautiful little girls were in the front waving to us with smiles and wool caps. Neil asked if they had comida and they said yes. We weren’t sure where to go but they lead us into the shack attached to the carriage. Bizarre. We had just stepped into a hobbit’s kitchen/living room. There were barstools around a kiln oven and the layers of clutter lay so thick that there are too few words to describe what fell on our eyes. From behind a tattered curtain floated in a woman in a flannel shirt and dirty sweatpants. The clothes hung on her like obstacles and appeared to have been treated as such. Cold blue eyes beamed out from a once attractive face. She looked European but the desert sun had paid its toll early. She extended a slow limp handshake to the eight of us one by one. We asked if she had food and she scanned through her mind to arrive at the conclusion that there was two pizza loaves left. From a black garbage bag she pulled two hard circular crusts and picked at them for a moment. “20 minutes we can have some pizza for you…but first lets go outside I’ll show you around Michael Land.”

From there we went over to the solar oven and windmills. Andrea’s explanation of how it worked morphed rather aimlessly into anti-establishment proselytizing. She defined her location as not a part of Chile, Bolivia or Peru and was miffed at the concept of “where are you from?” Patiently the crew stood listening to her infinite meandering philosophies as the sun set through the desert canyon. It grew cold and time had passed. We felt victims of a Twilight Zone episode. After about 45 minutes of captivity Nick stepped in as leader and announced to Andrea that he was very thankful for her fascinating story but that we had hoped to eat rather quickly and continue driving. She snapped back with the comment that there is a McDonalds in Arica. We left with the last rays of sun petering down on the desert floor and headed for the coastal town of Arica.

Logbook for January 20th, Day 81
Start: La Paz, Bolivia
N: 16* 30.162'
W: 68* 08.133'
Finish: Arica, Chile
N: 18* 29.003'
W: 70* 18.907
Mileage: uh, woops. Coming soon...
Notes: We're in Chile! It's such a contrast being back in a first-world nation. They have street lights...and lines down the middle of road! We arrived at hte Chilean border at about 1245 and had to wait 40 minutes for the border control agents to return from lunch. Then we drove about half of the distance through "no-man's land" between the exit point in Bolivia and the entry point in Chile. We stopped there to make our monthly sat-phone conference call to media and sponsors. We were on the altiplano at 15,000' above sea level, so of course I had to break out the Santa Cruz and go for a bike ride. Not a lot of oxygen up there! The call went very well, and we headed for Chile. On the way, we passed by a huge mine field--Chile and Bolivia aren't the best of friends. In the background all around us were the beautiful snowcapped mountains of the Andes. This was the most beautiful border we'd ever seen--and it was the fastest and most professional. They actually had an assembly line for stamping us in. It only took about 20 minutes, a new record, to get through the border. On the way into Arica, we descended from a peak of 15,300' to sea level. We dropped about 800' more than the height of Mt. Whitney in California (the U.S.'s highest peak, excluding Alaska). We had an easy drive, and our gas mileage was INCREDIBLE! It helps when your entire trip is downhill. We found a hostel with good parking right away and called it a night. Tomorrow, we're off to Santiago. (N.O.)

Help support our cause: The LONGITUDE Expedition is the longest journey ever attempted with a focus on Parkinson's Disease. The Drive Around the World team aims to raise money for Parkinson’s Disease research by driving four certified pre-owned Land Rover Discoverys around the globe following lines of longitude. Readers are encouraged to pledge small amounts of money per expedition-kilometer via a pledge form that can be found on our Parkinson’s page by clicking here. 100% of donations received go directly to Parkinson's research and all who donate $10 or more will be entered into a raffle to win an expedition-equipped Land Rover Discovery.