san pedro de atacama: ghost hunts, pisco regrets, and sand in places you didn't know existed

i'm sitting in a cafe that definitely doubles as a hostel lobby, listening to a German couple argue about gradient filters while my EMF meter sits on the table buzzing like an angry bee. i've been in san pedro de atacama for three days, and i'm pretty sure the desert is alive, or at least it's messing with my head. maybe both. they say the atacama is the driest place on earth, but the air feels heavy with secrets and 72% humidity. i just checked the weather app and it's 15.76°C right now, feels like 15.27°C, pressure at 1015 hPa-basically a cool, slightly damp desert afternoon. it's like the desert forgot to take its antihistamines. the humidity makes my skin prickle, and my recorder's static hiss is constant. is it atmospheric? or is the desert breathing? i'm leaning towards both. the town itself is a dusty strip of agencies, vegan cafes, and shops selling alpaca wool everything. be prepared for pisco sour tastings that turn into high-pressure sales. i ended up with a bottle that's been rolling around my pack, leaking citrus-scented despair. the altitude sits around 2400 meters, which means a simple walk uphill feels like a marathon. i used to run marathons? no, but chasing ghosts up dunes is basically the same cardio. the locals are a mix of chilenos, bolivian vendors, and every kind of backpacker with a DSLR and a vague interest in 'vibes.' i asked my hostel owner about local paranormal hotspots. he lowered his voice and said, 'if you want to see the witch of monte grande, go to the old cemetery after midnight, but bring an offering-a bottle of pisco, not cheap wine.' i made a note. my EMF meter spikes whenever i pass the town's old church, even though it's locked after 8pm. i'm not superstitious, but i'm also not ignoring a reading of 12.4 milligauss. i took a day trip to el tatio geysers, which means waking up at 4am to board a bus full of shivering tourists. the geysers erupt at sunrise, steam shooting into a sky that's turning pink and orange. llamas lurk nearby like they've seen it all. someone on the bus, a retired mines inspector from peru, whispered that the geysers are shrinking because of lithium extraction just over the ridge. i googled later and found a few articles-makes sense, water is life even in a desert. you can read more about the mining debate on TripAdvisor forums. but i'm not here for a lecture; i'm here for the ghost trains. apparently, a ghost train still runs on the old railway line to the borax mines, its whistle echoing across the flats on moonless nights. i haven't heard it yet, but i've set my voice recorder by the tracks. if i catch something, i'll monetize it on a paranormal podcast. #seizetheday. the desert landscape is brutally beautiful. i tried to capture it with my camera, but my lens kept fogging up from the humidity-yes, humidity!-so i gave up and just stared. there are salt flats that look like shattered mirrors, volcanoes that could be from another planet, and skies so clear you can see the milky way with the naked eye, even with the light pollution from calama bleeding in. i'm not a photographer, but i play one on instagram. i've embedded a map below because gps signals get sketchy out there, and you might think you're heading to a geyser when you're actually driving toward a salt mine. (true story: i did that. my guide, a local guy named carlos, laughed for ten minutes.)

if you're looking for things to do besides ghost hunting, there's stargazing tours (the guides will point out constellations that indigenous people used for navigation), sandboarding on the dunes (i wiped out hard and ate sand, which tasted like minerals and regret), and hot springs fed by volcanic heat. be careful though: some hot springs are near ancient burial sites, so you might be sharing the water with more than just bacteria. i read on a tripadvisor forum that the 'puritama hot springs' are worth the drive, but the entry fee is steep. one reviewer complained about the crowd: 'it's like a pool party with hippies.' i went anyway, and it was oddly peaceful at 6am. speaking of reviews, someone told me that the 'valle de la luna' sunset tour is a tourist trap unless you get there early. i arrived at 4pm and had the place almost to myself for an hour. then a swarm of Chinese tourists showed up with selfie sticks, and the vibe turned into a queue for photos. moral: beat the crowds or suffer. i also heard from a local bartender that the best pisco sours in town are at 'cafe de la plaza,' not the fancy place with the rooftop. i checked yelp, and it had 4.5 stars, so i tried it. the bartender, an old chilean woman with hands like sandpaper, made the drink right: sweet, sour, and strong enough to knock a ghost off its spectral feet. you can find it here if you're in town. for the top-rated attractions in san pedro de atacama, see what tripadvisor says here. now about the neighbors: if you get bored of desert isolation, calama is only an hour's drive east. it's a mining city, so it's got more concrete than charisma, but you can resupply, catch a movie, or visit the copper mine museum. i wouldn't recommend staying there-it's like a company town left in the 80s-but for a night, it's fine. further afield, the bolivian salar de uyuni is a 5-hour drive across the border. i haven't been yet, but i've heard the reflections after rain are out of this world. maybe next trip. the desert nights are something else. i set up my recorder near the old cemetery because, you know, ghost hunting. the silence is profound, broken only by the wind and the occasional hoot of an owl. the stars are so thick they look like glitter spilled on black velvet. i saw a shooting star every few minutes. if you're into that, there's a local astronomer who runs night sky tours with telescopes. i'm more of a solitary watcher, so i just lay on a blanket and let the cosmos wash over me. the temperature dropped to near freezing, but the humidity kept the air from feeling too dry. i wrapped myself in an alpaca sweater i bought from a vendor-probably not ethically sourced, but it kept me warm. i tried to do some night photography, but my tripod froze to the ground. no, seriously, the ground was so cold it stuck. i had to pry it off. before i sign off, i should mention the food. llama meat is a thing here-it's lean, gamey, and usually grilled. i had it at a little joint called 'la parrilla del desert.' it was okay; a bit tough, but with chimichurri it went down. the side of corn and potatoes was better. another local specialty is 'sopa de quinoa,' which is basically quinoa soup. if you're a vegetarian, you'll do fine. but beware of the 'menu del dia' that includes a 'surprise' dessert. mine was jello. not my kind of surprise. i'm heading out tomorrow to explore a reportedly haunted mining tunnel outside of town. i'll bring extra batteries for my recorder and maybe a spare pisco for any spectral entities. they say the desert holds memories, and i believe it. every dune, every rock, every gust of wind feels like a whisper from the past. i'll be back with more tales, assuming i don't get lost or become a ghost myself. i've included a few photos from my wanderings (actually from unsplash-google atacama images, they're gorgeous). first, those endless salt flats that look like solidified sky. second, the steamy geysers at dawn. third, a bunch of travelers huddled around a fire under the stars, trying to stay warm and maybe conjure some spirits.

oh, one more thing: i heard from a drunk german backpacker that the ufo sightings are most common near the 'valle de la luna' on tuesdays. i have no idea if that's true, but i'll be there tuesday night with my camera and EMF meter. if you see a bright light that's not a satellite, wave. maybe we'll both get abducted and finally get some answers. that's all for now. until next time, keep your spirit meters on high and your pisco sour within reach.