How Chile's night sky shifted my perspective forever
Chapter 21: Bullet holes, mind-blowing stars and the truth about life
Welcome to Chapter 21 of Love at First Flight, my solo round-the-world travel memoir.
Join me in Chile, where mountains, street art and star-filled deserts teach me the difference between looking and really seeing.
"Beautiful view, isn't it?"
I turned to see Katie, a British girl who’d been on the same flight as me, from New Zealand to Chile. Standing on our hostel's roof terrace, we could see the Andes mountains stretched across the horizon, their snow-capped peaks glowing orange and indigo in the evening light. They’d seen a lot in their 25 million years.
"Fancy exploring the city together tomorrow?" she said with a smile.
Relief flooded through me. After saying goodbye to friends and colleagues in Auckland, I'd been nervous about backpacking alone again, somewhere I didn’t know or speak the local language. I’d never even been to South America before. All I knew is I needed to trust my intuition. Now, as we watched the sunset over Santiago, I felt that familiar travel magic - how the right person can appear at the right moment.
As the first stars appeared above these famous peaks, I wondered what Chile would show me.
Hidden histories
The next morning, Katie and I joined a walking tour with Franco, an energetic local guide.
"This is Palacio de la Moneda," he announced at the grand presidential building. "See these marks?" He pointed to indentations in the stone walls, only visible as we got closer. "Bullet holes from 1973."
I ran my fingers over the edges of the holes. Franco explained how the elected president died in this palace during a military coup, to be replaced by the army chief. General Pinochet ruled as a dictator, ordering the torture and murder of thousands of politicians and citizens who opposed him. Finally, in 1990, he lost power and the country returned to democracy.
Two decades later, Santiago pulsed with freedom. We passed jugglers performing at traffic lights, couples of all kinds kissing openly in parks, and protesters holding signs while police watched on peacefully.
As we ended our tour, Franco recommended Santiago's famous seafood. Katie and I found a small restaurant for ceviche and Chilean wine, already planning our next trips together.
"To seeing more of Chile," we toasted, clinking our glasses.
Inner vision
Back at the hostel that evening, I sat cross-legged on my bed with my laptop, ready to join my online chakra course. The walls around me were covered with large colourful murals of famous rockstars.
Our lessons had progressed to the third eye chakra. I learned that when it's in harmony, we're open and perceptive. But when this chakra is out of balance, we can’t see past our problems. Like I had felt back home in London before this trip: indecisive, unable to let go of the past and afraid of the future.
At the start of my round-the-world trip, I’d learned to meditate in Goa. Here, I’d found that focusing on the space between my eyebrows helped me access a quieter part of my mind. Now I understood why—this was my third eye. Of course.
Closing my laptop, I went to sleep, ready for the adventures ahead.
City of colours
Our next stop was the port city of Valparaíso. In my Pinterest vision board I’d collected photos of its sweeping hills covered with colourful houses. And now I was actually here.
On a tour, we learned that in the 1990s a grassroots movement had encouraged graffiti artists to create an impressive collection of murals, turning Valparaíso into one of the world’s most celebrated cities for street art.
Several giant artworks depicted a woman interacting with flowers or fish, or surrounded by stars. Our guide explained that these are all Pachamama, the revered fertility goddess in Inca mythology. Often likened to Mother Nature, she’s the creative force that sustains all life on earth.
“For indigenous cultures in the Andes, Pachamama is a living presence, symbolising our connection with nature,” she told us. “They believe that losing touch with the natural world means we become blind to the clarity it brings.”
Looking at this powerful female body, I understood we are all Mother Earth. We are all love and creation.
As we headed to catch the train back to Santiago, Katie turned to me with a grin.
"Ready for the desert?"
“Can’t wait,” I replied.
San Pedro
Our final destination was San Pedro, a tiny town right in the middle of the Atacama Desert. We boarded the bus, preparing ourselves for 24 hours sitting in these seats. It was the longest bus journey I’d ever done.
Through the window, the city turned into green valleys which in turn gave way to endless sand and rock. My ears popped and my water bottle crumpled as we ascended from sea level Santiago to the much higher altitudes of the Atacama Desert. At some point, we must have fallen asleep.
I woke to the sunrise and saw the desert stretching out around us. A couple of hours later, we arrived in San Pedro. Heading out into the morning heat, Katie and I found a stylish little café to replenish our aching bodies, before checking into our hostel.
That afternoon, we booked a stargazing tour.
Stargazing
As night fell, the overwhelming heat surrendered to sub-zero temperatures. I pulled on a fleece over my thermals, topped with a knitted hat I'd bought that day, decorated with cute, colourful images of native llamas.
At the observatory, an expert showed us slides as he introduced us to the constellations and when each was discovered.
“The Atacama's high altitude, clear skies and lack of light pollution make it one of the world's best places for star-spotting,” he told us.
He led us into the backyard, as we shivered and pulled our clothes tightly around us. The night sky was dotted with billion-year-old stars and the moon beamed like a torch. With a powerful laser pen, our host pointed out constellations, appearing to touch them. Everything suddenly seemed closer, as if they were strokes of chalk on a blackboard.
Entering the observatory’s white dome, we lined up to peer through the huge telescope. Gasps of awe escaped each person who looked.
Finally, it was my turn. I put my eyes against the cool rim of the eyepiece to inspect a star we’d seen from outside. Thanks to the 180-times magnification, it revealed itself to actually be a cluster of colourful, moving stars. One pair orbited in a flirtatious galactic dance, emitting beautiful blue and yellow light.
At one point, I swear a shooting star flew past.
Valle de la Luna
After discovering the wonders of the universe, our next tour revealed an otherworldly landscape here on earth. Valle de la Luna—or ‘Valley of the Moon’—stretched before us like Mars itself, all dusty rocks and barren beauty.
Our first activity in this arid place was sandboarding. Donning bulky boots, we trudged up the sand dune and fixed ourselves to newly waxed boards.
After a short tuition from our guide, I nervously propelled myself down the slope. I steadily gained speed and, after a couple of falls into the soft sand, surprised myself by actually enjoying it.
The next stop was salt caves, where silver walls were covered in crystalline scales. Stroking them gently with our fingers, they emitted melodic twinkly sounds, like nature’s harp.
Finally, it was time for our group to enter deep into the Valle de la Luna in the vehicle. Beautifully desolate, we peered over mile-wide craters, rippling sand, saline sculptures and an enormous amphitheatre, carved into the rock by the winds over countless years.
Mountains and myths
Making our way up one of the small mountains, my tired trainers slipped on the loose sand and parched rock.
Eventually, we made it to the summit where we proudly posed for photos.
Our guide poured shots of pisco sour – the popular South American spirit. We sat and sipped them, watching the sunset behind the surreal moonscape, as he shared mythical mountain legends - doomed romances between princes and princesses transformed into majestic rock.
This was my last day with Katie. She was continuing with new friends from the tour, heading north to the Bolivian salt flats and towards Peru. Meanwhile, I had to return to Santiago to catch my flight to Brazil. But I wasn’t afraid to be alone any more. Looking out at this epic view, I knew now that I was part of nature, part of earth itself.
Indigo darkness consumed the sky and the constellations appeared once more. As the pisco sour and local legends swirled around my mind, my life seemed at once as insignificant as a grain of sand and as important as the whole universe.
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What's the most life-changing view you've ever experienced? I’d love to hear your tales in the comments.
In next week's article I explore why travelling alone is the fastest way to discover your personal power.
The mural art in Valpo is next level. Wonderful read, Claire!
I love following your adventures!