OF SALT & STARS

The dramatic moonscapes of Chile’s Atacama Desert are anything but vacant. Dotted with ruins and richly tattooed with ancient petroglyphs, this high-altitude playground, popular with adventurous travellers, is also a repository of stories. Hike into mineral-coated canyons and camp out under brilliant night skies to discover how this arid landscape offers a gateway to the past

- JAMIE LAFFERTY

A COLD, BLOODLESS DAWN BREAKS ABOVE THE ANDES, THE YOLK OF A WHITE SUN SPILLING OUT ACROSS THE ATACAMA DESERT AHEAD.

I’m standing next to the ruins of a shepherd’s hut, 13,800ft above sea level. This altitude — over three times that of Ben Nevis — plus the fact I’ve been up since 4.45am mean my energy levels are close to zero. My skull feels like an empty shell. A cutting wind slashes around my face, causing my eyes to water, but as uncomfortable as this is, moving seems almost impossible.

Given the circumstances, quite how Lily Marchant is able to spring over rocks towards me is baffling. The guide from Awasi Atacama hotel has a habit of bounding; enthusiasm comes to her more readily than it does to a sugar-spiked toddler. I can hear it in her voice when she asks: “Beautiful, no?” Ahead of us, great, dry plains stretch to the hazy horizon. To the north, Andean volcanos are painted pink, then a chalky orange by the rising sun. I pull my hood a little tighter and tell her I agree.

I first heard of the Atacama, as most people do, at school. The driest non-polar desert on Earth, “a place where they say it hasn’t rained for 100 years”, says Lily. “They told us that, too. It really stuck with me.” Born in the Colchagua Valley south of Chile’s capital, Santiago, Lily was raised among vineyards. Having lived in the arid ocean that is the Atacama for the past five years, when she goes home now, she has a renewed appreciation for the colour green.