Under the Milky Way: The Last Night in Chile

Gracias a la vida que me ha dado tanto
Me dio dos luceros, que cuando los abro,
Perfecto distingo lo negro del blanco
Y en el alto cielo su fondo estrellado
Y en las multitudes el hombre que yo amo Violeta Parra, Gracias a la Vida

My last night in Chile brought to mind the words of folksinger Violeta Parra, who sang of her gratitude for the starry background of the high heavens. The night skies of the Atacama Desert are known for being among the most spectacular in the world, with the dry desert air and remote location allowing for brilliant stellar shows each night. I've been on the coast so much though, that the fog often obscures the stars, until this last day.

I drove out of Vicuña and found the turnoff for the Observatorio Mamalluco. I went up the narrow dirt road a few kilometers, winding through a small residential area and then into a rich patchwork of vineyards. The road went up gradually, higher and higher, and soon brought me up above the vineyards and out into open desert. The views across the valley were opening up, revealing the striking contrast between the green valley and the dry rocky mountains.

I found the turnoff for Kakanchik and stopped outside the gate. I rang the bell and Raúl, the manager, came down to greet me. He showed me to the cabañas and I knew immediately that this was going to be a great place to spend my last night in Chile. The cabaña was beautiful, with a large wooden deck overlooking much of the Valle de Elqui. A modern style and solar panels on the roof gave the place a 21st century feel, while the three observatories on the distant mountaintops evoked the landscape of another planet.

As the sun set lower in the late afternoon sky, the mountains began to turn purple and the vineyards down in the valley took on an ethereal glow. I watched anxiously as the sun set, scanning the sky for the first star to appear.

After it became dark, the show began in earnest, and it was the most spectacular star show I've ever seen anywhere in the world. Between sunset and one o'clock in the morning, when I couldn't stay awake any longer, I counted shooting stars every few minutes, numerous satellite flyovers, and the lustrous white band of the Milky Way spread across the sky like nothing I've ever seen before.

The biggest treat was to see the familiar belt of Orion appear on the horizon, but in a strangely unfamiliar way. As he rose higher above the mountains, it occurred to me that he was standing on his head, which is to be expected in the southern hemisphere. His position shifted over the next few hours and he appeared to be doing cartwheels across the sky. The night gave me a whole new perspective on the constellation of Orion.

I woke up early the next morning, sad to think it was time to leave the Valle de Elqui. Birds were singing, roosters crowing, and dogs barking in the distant town of Vicuña. I slowly packed the car, said adios to Raúl, and set out on the road. It was a nice early morning drive to La Serena, then back on the autopista all the way to Santiago. Later that night I boarded a flight for Mexico City, the first part of the 19-hour trip back to San Francisco.

THE END