I got into Calama towards the end of daylight. My cab driver was very rude and not patient. He knew that I couldn't speak Spanish, yet he insisted on speaking Spanish and asking me loads of questions. At first he wanted to charge me a flat fee and I asked him why not charge me via the meter. Not understanding what he was telling me, I accepted the flat rate.
Instead of going straight to the bus station, he was chasing Tur Buses that were going to San Pedro. "Ah, San Pedro," and he'd whip a U-Turn and follow it, hoping it would stop. "Tur Bus terminal?" I asked, and he let out an angry drawn out response. I just kept laughing because I had no clue why he was yelling at me; after all, he is the one chasing down and honking at the busses like the dogs on the streets of Santiago.
We finally got to bus station and he pointed to the meter, which is double what we had agreed to earlier. I kept telling him 7000 (our price) and he kept yelling at me in Spanish and I kept laughing. I got out of the car and pulled out the money and he kept snapping his fingers, saying "money, money." So, to piss him off even more, I took my time. With the money in my hand, I slowly grabbed my bag and strapped everything up and then have him the money. Man, was he mad. I just walked away as he was yelling at me in Spanish.
I then bought my bus ticket and waited... and waited... and waited. The bus finally arrived an hour and a half late.
On the bus ride to San Pedro de Atacama I felt absolutely awful with a strong headache and mild fever.
As we came to our destination it looked as though we were in the middle of nowhere. Not a single building is over two stories and all are built out of mud. Since my hostel gave me extremely butchered directions, it took me a while to find my hostel.
Once I got checked and settled in, I hung out next to the fire because it was so cold out. A girl by the fire assured my that I was not sick it was just me adjusting to the altitude.
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