We had a long morning stop at Julaca Station while the local engine shunted some other carriages about. Julaca in the region of Potosí is a city located in Bolivia, some 199 miles or (320 kilometres) South-West of Sucre, the country's capital city. Then we got away to the border between Bolivia and Chile where we had to change trains.
Everyone bustled about in the usual unnecessary rush to disembark, only to wait for ages amongst the mountains of baggage for the Chilean train. Still at least is was a change from the carriage for a while.
A yellow train pulled up and there was a mad rush for seats, which was unnecessary because there was far more capacity than passengers. We then rumbled along to Ollagüe on the Chilean border where we all had to get off the train again.
Ollagüe is a Chilean frontier village and commune in El Loa Province, Antofagasta Region. The village is 215 kilometres (134 miles) northeast of the city of Calama, and has a station and marshalling yard on the FCAB rail line.
The Ferrocarril de Antofagasta a Bolivia (British company name: Antofagasta (Chili) & Bolivia Railway or FCAB for short) is a private railway operating in the northern provinces of Chile. It is notable in that it was one of the earliest railways built to 2 ft 6 in (762 mm) narrow gauge, with a route that climbed from sea level to over 4,500 m (14,764 ft), while handling goods traffic totalling near 2 million tons per annum.
It proved that a railway with such a narrow gauge could do the work of a standard gauge railway and influenced the construction of other railways such as the Estrada de Ferro Oeste de Minas. It was later converted to 1,000 mm (3 ft 3+3⁄8 in) metre gauge, and still operates today.
We handed over our passports as we got off the train and joined two queues at the Customs and Immigration buildings. It was 14:00 hrs. as we stood in line on the desert plain. There was a short queue of gringos and a long, ragged line of locals.
Baggage was heaped up near the locals and women with babies were allowed to sit in the shade. These mothers were the first to be processed after a half hour wait. Next it was the gringos (yahoo!). We were admitted one by one over an hour or so and our baggage and persons were searched.
The men were only frisked but women were stripped and searched intimately with the aid of rubber gloves! Apparently drug smugglers with cocaine had been caught on the train last week. We got back on the train and got a rice and fish meal for 250 Chilean Pesos while the Customs men dealt painstakingly slowly with the locals.
During the late afternoon I nipped into the adjacent town of Ollagüe, which was seemingly deserted. I crossed the army assault course behind the border guards station and walked along the main street which was deserted and silent save the sound of the wind swirling the sand.
I found the local shop in a low drab house amongst the other low drab houses and bought milk, yoghurt and bananas for dessert. The sun began to set and still a substantial group of locals stood in the lengthening shadows outside the border post.
At about 22:00 hrs. spirits lifted as we shunted a few hundred yards to the first railway station in Chile. Here we had to wait another two hours in which time we got increasingly worried that our passports had not been returned.
Finally, at midnight, we moved off again just as we were settling down to sleep. After five minutes an official walked through the carriage calling out something about pasaportes, and soon, like the Pied Piper of Hamlin, had a trail of followers.
We filed through the kitchen car, felt our way through a pitch-black carriage strewn with sleeping bodies and entered an ancient sleeping car which looked like a relic from “Murder on the Orient Express”. Here we queued up at a cabin where a young official feverishly filled in our tourist cards and returned our passports.
At last we could try to relax for the rest of the night. This train had more empty seats so we could lie out along several and snatch a little bit of sleep. It got very cold and a variety of hats, blankets and ponchos appeared.
Two Australian women loudly related their travel tales to Bill as the locals hissed for silence, an unusual turn-around.
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