Day Trip to Peru on the Tacna Train

As originally envisioned, I’d planned to ride the narrow gauge train from Arica up to La Paz. The elevation gain is nearly 13,000 feet and the trip takes about twelve hours. Unfortunately, the line ceased operating two years ago and since part of the old train station in Arica has now been turned into a restaurant, it seems unlikely that services will resume.

There is however another train that still operates from Arica. It travels north across the border to the Peruvian city of Tacna. Located forty miles into Peru, Tacna (Pop. 250,000) is quite a bit larger than Arica. The train ride takes just one and a half hours each way. Because of Tacna’s inexpensive prices, which extend to its casinos, many Chilenos will ride the train up in the morning, spend six hours in Tacna, and return on the early evening train.

My bus to Salta wasn’t scheduled to leave until later this evening, so I had more than enough time to ride the train up to Tacna, take a look around, have a nice lunch somewhere and then catch a collectivo back to Arica. My one way train ticket cost me about $2.25 USD.

Ross was kind enough to give me a lift down to the railway station. Since the tracks up to Peru are standard gauge, the Tacna train operates from its own station, one that I might add is nowhere near as nice as the old Ferrocarril Arica – La Paz Station. On the way to the station, Ross warned me to be wary up in Tacna. While I’d probably be fine when staying along the main avenues during daylight hours, it was still a good idea to be vigilant of the surroundings. Muggings were not uncommon, he said, nor were robberies from taxi drivers so be careful when making arrangements for the ride back to Arica. Don’t get into any cars billed as collectivos if you’re the only passenger. All good advice, much of which I already practice although the information about the Peruvian collectivos was new to me. The way to avoid problems with the collectivos, Ross said, was to go inside the International Bus Terminal and head back to the offices of the Chilean owned taxi companies. They will get a group of passengers together there and also do a better job of handling the passport paperwork for the border crossing back into Chile. You may pay $3.00 or $4.00 Peruvian Sol more (About $1.25 USD) but it’s money well spent. Ain’t that the truth!

The provincial government of the Tacna region owns and operates the train up to Tacna. Interestingly however, the train starts from Arica each day. It departs at 9:00am, arriving Tacna at 9:30am (Peru is one hour earlier than Chile) and returns to Arica at 4:00pm, arriving at 6:30pm. I guess this makes sense because Tacna’s alot less expensive than Arica, so lots more people from Arica would make the day trip to Tacna than the other way around.

I arrived at the station at 8:30am, a half-hour in advance because of immigration procedures for departing Chile. About a dozen people were already gathered and a steady stream of newcomers continued to arrive as I waited in line. I chatted a bit with two Chilean women in front of me. Upon hearing I was from Alaska, their first response was pretty much the same as everyone else’s down here: “Ay! Es muy frio alli!”

The train pulled into the station at 8:45am. To call this conveyance a train is being overly generous. In as much as it runs on a track, it is a train but really it’s a self-powered railcar. It was painted orange and yellow with pale blue trim and definitely looked in need of a new paint job. When the conductor collected my ticket and crossed my name off the manifest, I noticed that only forty-two of us were headed north this morning. Each railcar holds sixty passengers, so the one serving us this morning would have a little extra room to stretch out.

Boarding commenced at 8:50am and because most all of us were day trippers, no one was carrying lots of baggage. The interior was painted industrial green and the seats were essentially padded benches, more than comfortable enough for such a short ride. At precisely 9:00am the whistle blew and we were off, rolling out of town at a sprightly 25-30 mph which we maintained all the way up to Tacna.

The countryside of northern Chile / southern Peru is best described as barren. The mountains and coastal lowlands alongside the train offered very little in the way of vegetation. I can only imagine that what trees I did see must have been planted. As I was firing off some photos of this stark landscape, a German man approached and asked if I’d like a picture of myself. No thanks, I said. I’m just documenting the journey. I had an empty bench across from me so he joined me for a spell.

Now this fellow, whose name is Willy, had enjoyed quite a trip through Chile and Argentina. He and his wife had rented a car in Santiago and then driven down to Puerto Montt and on to the Carraterra Austral, or Southern Highway. Besides passing through some beautiful countryside, a journey along the Carraterra Austral also involves crossing a number of fiords by ferry. I drove about seventy miles of this road back in 1994 and it was extremely rough then. According to Willie, it still is. Thankfully he had insurance on the car because they had bottomed out a couple of times, there was a big dent on the oil pan and a small rock had somehow gotten into the transmission and rattled noisily all the way down to Rio Gallegos before anybody could figure out what it was. Getting back to their trip however, they drove the Carraterra Austral as far as the last southern crossing into Argentina, then continued on down to Ushuaia. Their return journey took them up a secondary along the eastern slope of the Andes back to Bariloche, then across to Puerto Montt and back to Santiago. Next time, Willy said, they’ll get a four-wheel drive. Their three-week rental cost them $1200.00 USD, insurance included.

The downside to Willy’s South American adventure came in Santiago when he was mugged and had his camera stolen from him. He was wearing it attached to his belt along with his video camera. He claimed it happened only about a block off the main plaza in Santiago and that it was about 7:00pm when there was still a fair bit of daylight. He thought only the one person who’d grabbed his camera was involved but as he chased after him another guy showed up and pushed him to the ground. He then showed me a couple of big scrapes on his arms that looked as if they’ll become pretty noticeable scars someday.

I’ve never been mugged, but I’d like to think one can minimize the chances of being mugged by not advertising anything of value. As if simply being white doesn’t already color me as a potential target to larceny minded thugs in certain parts of the world, wearing cameras, jewelry or colorful touristy clothing seems like it would only enhance the effect. During my lifetime I’ve wandered through and indeed stayed in a lot of dodgy areas. The best approach I’ve found is to blend in. Dress plain, walk like you belong and know where you’re going, and don’t advertise valuables by wearing or carrying them in plain sight. I showed Willy my cheap plastic grocery store bag in which I carried my camera, passport and a bottle of water. I left my wallet and credit card back in Arica and had $100.00 USD stashed in the tiny key pocket of my 501s. The whole idea is not to look all that interesting to criminals. So far, so good.

Upon leaving Arica we rolled past some pretty beaches, but shortly afterwards the landscape changed to sandy barren flatlands with dry, dusty mountains to the east. This continued all the way until the outskirts of Tacna, where a strong smell of rotting garbage overwhelmed all other sensory input. These were slums were rolling through, and like slums the world over, they were miserable, desperate places. At least it was a sunny day.

Soon enough we reached the Tacna Station, itself not in the best part of town. Clearing Peruvian immigration took about twenty minutes, after which I visited the currency exchange shop (a guy at a desk with a few small stacks of money and a calculator) and exchanged $5000.00 Chilean Pesos for $26.00 Peruvian Sols or about $10.00 USD. As it turned out, this would be all I’d need for the rest of the day, including transport back to Arica.

After taking a few photos of the ancient Peruvian steam engines and rolling stock that sat in storage opposite the Tacna Station, I walked about six blocks up to Alameda Bolognesi, the palm lined main street of Tacna. There were lots of shops selling all manner of goods but I’m one of those people who rarely buys something (except music) unless I need it. I just don’t have room for more stuff, either in my backpack or at home in my cabin. I really don’t need a nice sweater of some carved knick-knack to remind me or anyone else that I’ve been to South America. My memories serve me just fine, thanks. That’s not to say I’ve never bought anything abroad, but it really has to impress me. I once spent close to $400.00 USD on an Australian Aboriginal painting, plus even more to have it shipped home. I still have a nice Ecuadorian sweater I bought in 1983, not to mention a beautiful wool blanket I picked up at a market in Oaxaca in 1975.

After a good walk up and back along the avenue, I stopped in a decent enough looking restaurant and purchased a quarter chicken with rice and a fried egg with a bottle of Coke for just $2.25 USD. Then I hailed a taxi and caught a ride out to the International Bus Terminal.

The moment we arrived at the bus station, grizzled men approached the taxi trying to get my attention as it was assumed that I was one of the many people going to Arica. It was like getting off the bus at Wonder Lake in Denali, except that people had replaced the mosquitoes. I explained endlessly that I was only coming to the terminal to check schedules and reservations for a future trip. This seemed to work as well as DEET (The main ingredient in most mosquito repellants) and by the time I was dropped off, only one other guy approached me.

Upon entering the Tacna Station, you must pay one Sol for the right to use the station – a station tax if you will. In US dollars, this equated to about $0.35 cents. Following Ross’s advice, I then climbed the stairs and headed straight back to the bank of Chilean collectivo operators – all three of them. I picked the one in the middle, manned by a couple of harmless looking middle aged ladies and said that I’d like to return to Arica. One took my passport, wandered off for about ten minutes, then returned and asked me for $12.00 Peruvian Sols or about $4.00 USD for the one way trip. After typing up two or three forms and giving me one to sign, she passed me off to a driver who led me and two other guys out to his taxi, an ancient Ford Taurus. Inside were a couple of ladies from Peru, a 40ish something pregnant woman and her 20ish daughter. They sat in the back seat with me and the two guys sat up front. Then we were off, speeding along at a rate at least twice that of the train, possibly even more. The journey involved two stops – one at the dusty old Peruvian emigration station and a much longer one at the more modern Chilean immigration station. Our driver disappeared as we waited in line for a good half-hour but he returned to shepherd us through the immigration formalities. After that, it was another twenty-five minutes and I was dropped off in downtown Arica, thus ending my excellent rail adventure up to Tacna.

During the short time I spent in the city, it became apparent that I’ll need to return here and spend at least a day or two. Some of the attractions I’d like to see in Tacna include a splendid neo-Renaissance Cathedral, the Municipal Theater and the caves of Toquepala, where archaeologists have found some of the oldest human remains in Peru. Indeed, the oldest mummified remains ever found are in this area as well.

I walked the coastal road back to the hostel where Ross and Beatriz had kindly stored my backpack and allowed me to cook up a last dinner before heading off to the bus station for my evening bus across the Andes to Salta, Argentina.


Next Up

Long distance bus travel through Chile and Argentina. Intercity buses in South America are vastly superior to those found anywhere else in the world.