Hola!
Very little to report from the last day or so, but I just thought I'd share (or remind myself at some time in the future) a late night experience from a few days ago.
I'm sitting in my living room, typing away at an email or surfing the net - I can't remember which, and it isn't important for the rest of the story. All of a sudden, there is a tremendous amount of fuss and bother from a collection of the stray hounds that roam the streets here. I'm sure I've mentioned the dogs in the streets before, but that night, they were going off!
I sat and ignored them for a little while, maybe 30 seconds or so, thinking about dog-catchers and "the pound" in Australia and wishing that something like that would exist here, just to clean up the streets. The longer the barking went, I started wishing that they'd shut up, as they'd broken my thoughts about what I was up to. After about a minute, I thought I'd go and see what was going on, as the barking was not slowing down in any way.
There have been occasions before when one or two dogs have been chasing cars or bicycles in the street and creating a bit of a racket, but usually that is a fairly transitory thing. I thought that the best viewing point might be from my bedroom window, so I headed in that direction, drew back the curtains and looked out into the street to see what was happening.
Sure enough, there were a collection of dogs, perhaps the better part of 10 or so all woofing away furiously. Not that they heard my arrival, but it only took a few more seconds and the noise began to subside. Good, I thought, I won't have to yell at them to shut up! I idly wondered what the way of saying "shut up" is in Spanish, however before that thought had finished, the most peculiar sight strolled into view.
I've seen in the local media (newspapers) and been told that there are many hookers in Copiapo, however I had taken the view that much of that was just a bored media and/or bored locals "talking it up" and being deliciously scandalised by the naughtiness of it all. I'd only ever seen one real live hooker here, strutting her stuff along the footpath of the Pan Americana, all thigh-high red leather boots, red mini-skirt, low cut top and big hair. When I recounted my story about seeing this lady, it created much amusement, as (apparently) many of the hookers come with a "surprise" under their skirts, and there was absolute certainty that this person would have been one of those.
Another area of "trade" is apparently the local Plaza, of which I live above. Again, during any of the evenings/nights when I've been out for a walk, I've never seen any evidence of this, and had been very much been of the "yeah, right, pull the other one" kind of view. The public phone box (yes, they still have those here) on the opposite corner of the Plaza is apparently a renowned location to find someone.
Anyway, I'm looking out my windows, late at night, VERY cold (I don't have my heater going very often, but it is definitely on this night). A very leggy girl, very short black mini-skirt, very tight shirt and very high heels, is tottering down the road and trying to avoid the barking hounds. Very clearly a working girl on her way to/from who knows where. As I'm recovering from the shock, another 4-5 girls stroll into view, all heading in the same direction. Yet another appears and is not wearing any pants at all (sorry, only lacy underwear)!
One of the tragedies of my life is that I have no idea how to wolf-whistle. I open the window and have a go, but it is pointless. I continue to watch the parade for the next 20 seconds or so that it lasts, and then they are gone, disappeared into the night. I remain at the window for another minute or so, scarcely able to believe what I have seen. It doesn't seem possible. How on earth all of them managed to be wearing as little as they were, wandering the street, given it is so cold outside. How on earth they manage to wander the streets dressed as they were and not be arrested is also a fascinating thought.
The story caused much amusement at work the next day, and particularly generated a few of the "see, I told you so" kind of comments. I still hadn't put the sight out of my head the following night, when I was sitting at the computer and there was a whole bunch of woofing again. I jumped up, ran to the window, got my camera out and waited to see the parade again, but nothing. Not a thing. Dogs barking at cars. Big deal.
Oh well...
Regards to all,
Andrew
Thursday 29 July 2010
Tuesday 27 July 2010
26 July 2010
Hello everyone (anyone?),
Just as I'm settling in to work for the day, Lizette says that she and Mauricio have to go back to the bike shop and do some more administrative stuff for Mauri's bike. Good news, as it was going to be hard to not watch the clock all day, waiting to go the the shop in the afternoon.
Once we arrive, I head to the KTM. It was easy to see, as the size of it dominates just about all of the other bikes in the shop. Aside from that, it still wasn't actually love at first site. The cold, hard, fact of the matter is that the KTM is not, in a superficial way, the most beautiful of motorcycles that I've been looking at. The Guzzi is/was far more aesthetically pleasing. For those of you who know a little about such things as "stealth" technology in the military, having seen pictures of stealth boats, planes etc, to me, the KTM looks a bit like a stealth bike. However it grows on you. It is big and brutal-looking. Muscular? Perhaps. Powerful? Definitely. About the only thing about it that reminds me of myself is that it is big. It's also mostly black, with a bit of white, and a tiny bit of KTM orange on the frame. In my excitement, I've forgotten to bring my camera, and I while cursing that, I forget about my camera phone as well. Doh!
I'm going to have to do stretching exercises to be even able to throw my leg over it properly, and it is a remarkable feeling to be getting on a bike this tall. When you are my height, you are used to the world being organised for smaller people, so finding something that feels like it has been made for me is awesome. Sitting on the seat, my feet comfortably touch the ground, but only just. The riding position is nicely upright and as I take it for a fang around the block, it just feels very comfortable. I do a bit of weaving from side to side and there is no fuss from it at all, whereas the Guzzi had felt a little out of balance (although again, it could just have been the dodgy square tyres?).
When I open up the throttle, it jumps forward quite happily. As I back off, there is a very satisfying crackle from the twin carbon-fibre exhausts. For whatever reason, the standard ones were whipped off early in its life and these beauties were added. I fall deeper in love...
Back in the showroom, I park it up and spend time crawling my way around the bike. It has heated hand-grips (luxury), a 12V power outlet for the GPS, three big panniers, all of the guards and bash-plate protection you could want, and one very ugly headlight. I'm sure it is effective, but... Perhaps I'll get used to it in time? I still can't help but wander around the Guzzi, thinking about the looks and the sound, but the practicalities of it (i.e. no servicing available any closer than Santiago) start to worry me more and more. In the end, I think the choice is simple. KTM. I know Callum will be pleased!
Via Lizette (who is also there with Mauricio, doing some more administrative stuff for his bike), I learn that having said that I'll buy the bike, I'm being invited on various tours that the KTM owners in the area do. Sounds like a fabulous way to get to see a bit more of the countryside from people who know where to go, and another opportunity to mix with "non-work" people, which is great.
It is fair to say that the rest of my day is anti-climactic after that excitement. It seems like my first trip will be to Caldera, perhaps this weekend, for lunch. Sounds like a nice way to ease into it!
The only other thing worth of reporting was tonights effort at cooking. Lentil and chickpea soup. The original recipe includes chorizo sausage, but I'll just leave that out and see how it goes. I'm feeling brave enough to modify it a little further by adding eggplant. Yeah, wild and crazy, I know!
After simmering away for an hour or so, I decide that I'll make use of the "put half of the mixture in a blender, give it a whizz and then add it back to the rest of the soup" technique. No problems with the first half of this exercise, but when I do the second (smaller batch), despite holding the lid (tightly) with one hand, the whole thing erupts from the blender, blowing off the top and covering my hand in near boiling liquid. I let out a manly roar, partly in fright, partly in pain! During a physics class at uni, I once electrocuted myself on an electronics circuit board. At the time, I would've sworn that I let out a "manly roar" then too, but I was assured by the rest of the class, supervisors, lecturer etc that it was a high-pitched girly squeal. You'll have to trust me that this time, I got it right. Manly roar! Definitely.
Fortunately there doesn't appear to be any apparent damage to the skin on my hand. Cold running water and a wet face washer seem to have limited the damage to the aesthetic of the kitchen. Senora Gloria is going to have more of a challenge this Friday than I usually give her. Don't get me wrong, I've spent a lot of time cleaning it up, but I keep finding extra bits I've missed, so I'm looking forward to her making it all beautiful and sparkling clean again (this bits she can see)!
Not much excitement likely for the rest of the week, with lots of work to be done prior to visits from the JV heavies at some stage in the next week or two. More "head down, bum up" time!
Love to all,
A
Just as I'm settling in to work for the day, Lizette says that she and Mauricio have to go back to the bike shop and do some more administrative stuff for Mauri's bike. Good news, as it was going to be hard to not watch the clock all day, waiting to go the the shop in the afternoon.
Once we arrive, I head to the KTM. It was easy to see, as the size of it dominates just about all of the other bikes in the shop. Aside from that, it still wasn't actually love at first site. The cold, hard, fact of the matter is that the KTM is not, in a superficial way, the most beautiful of motorcycles that I've been looking at. The Guzzi is/was far more aesthetically pleasing. For those of you who know a little about such things as "stealth" technology in the military, having seen pictures of stealth boats, planes etc, to me, the KTM looks a bit like a stealth bike. However it grows on you. It is big and brutal-looking. Muscular? Perhaps. Powerful? Definitely. About the only thing about it that reminds me of myself is that it is big. It's also mostly black, with a bit of white, and a tiny bit of KTM orange on the frame. In my excitement, I've forgotten to bring my camera, and I while cursing that, I forget about my camera phone as well. Doh!
I'm going to have to do stretching exercises to be even able to throw my leg over it properly, and it is a remarkable feeling to be getting on a bike this tall. When you are my height, you are used to the world being organised for smaller people, so finding something that feels like it has been made for me is awesome. Sitting on the seat, my feet comfortably touch the ground, but only just. The riding position is nicely upright and as I take it for a fang around the block, it just feels very comfortable. I do a bit of weaving from side to side and there is no fuss from it at all, whereas the Guzzi had felt a little out of balance (although again, it could just have been the dodgy square tyres?).
When I open up the throttle, it jumps forward quite happily. As I back off, there is a very satisfying crackle from the twin carbon-fibre exhausts. For whatever reason, the standard ones were whipped off early in its life and these beauties were added. I fall deeper in love...
Back in the showroom, I park it up and spend time crawling my way around the bike. It has heated hand-grips (luxury), a 12V power outlet for the GPS, three big panniers, all of the guards and bash-plate protection you could want, and one very ugly headlight. I'm sure it is effective, but... Perhaps I'll get used to it in time? I still can't help but wander around the Guzzi, thinking about the looks and the sound, but the practicalities of it (i.e. no servicing available any closer than Santiago) start to worry me more and more. In the end, I think the choice is simple. KTM. I know Callum will be pleased!
Via Lizette (who is also there with Mauricio, doing some more administrative stuff for his bike), I learn that having said that I'll buy the bike, I'm being invited on various tours that the KTM owners in the area do. Sounds like a fabulous way to get to see a bit more of the countryside from people who know where to go, and another opportunity to mix with "non-work" people, which is great.
It is fair to say that the rest of my day is anti-climactic after that excitement. It seems like my first trip will be to Caldera, perhaps this weekend, for lunch. Sounds like a nice way to ease into it!
The only other thing worth of reporting was tonights effort at cooking. Lentil and chickpea soup. The original recipe includes chorizo sausage, but I'll just leave that out and see how it goes. I'm feeling brave enough to modify it a little further by adding eggplant. Yeah, wild and crazy, I know!
After simmering away for an hour or so, I decide that I'll make use of the "put half of the mixture in a blender, give it a whizz and then add it back to the rest of the soup" technique. No problems with the first half of this exercise, but when I do the second (smaller batch), despite holding the lid (tightly) with one hand, the whole thing erupts from the blender, blowing off the top and covering my hand in near boiling liquid. I let out a manly roar, partly in fright, partly in pain! During a physics class at uni, I once electrocuted myself on an electronics circuit board. At the time, I would've sworn that I let out a "manly roar" then too, but I was assured by the rest of the class, supervisors, lecturer etc that it was a high-pitched girly squeal. You'll have to trust me that this time, I got it right. Manly roar! Definitely.
Fortunately there doesn't appear to be any apparent damage to the skin on my hand. Cold running water and a wet face washer seem to have limited the damage to the aesthetic of the kitchen. Senora Gloria is going to have more of a challenge this Friday than I usually give her. Don't get me wrong, I've spent a lot of time cleaning it up, but I keep finding extra bits I've missed, so I'm looking forward to her making it all beautiful and sparkling clean again (this bits she can see)!
Not much excitement likely for the rest of the week, with lots of work to be done prior to visits from the JV heavies at some stage in the next week or two. More "head down, bum up" time!
Love to all,
A
25 July 2010
OK, so in my last posting, I established that on Sunday, I started the day pretty tired after my late night the the "Arte Pub". Sunday was originally planned to be a drive along the coast somewhere between Caldera and Huasco, but given I was tired, Caldera seemed the most likely as it is so much closer. In the end, common(?) sense won out and I decided that driving while tired wasn't the smartest thing I could do, given the amount of trucks and buses plowing up and down the road. I certainly didn't want to be having a microsleep underneath one of those...
In the end, it was a day where lethargy was the winner. I roused myself a bit more in the afternoon to go to the shops for "garam masala" ingredients, but that search didn't actually end until about 8PM when I visited my fifth supermercado for the day and FINALLY found some saffron (in a 0.25g packet!). For absolutely proper garam masala, I should've used cardamom seeds, but had to settle for the already ground version. I'd also like to have found a spice grinder or a decent mortar and pestle - the one I have is wooden and not the best. The end result of it all was perhaps a bit coarse? I ended up using it in a "middle eastern style lentil and spinach soup" and it tasted just fine to me!
Late in the afternoon, I had to succumb to the weariness and have a little siesta - my first here in Chile. I've always been a fan of the afternoon siesta, but have never quite managed to enjoy them often enough. It's a shame that they aren't as common here as they once were which pepped me up enough to go searching for that darn saffron that was eluding me!
The rest of the evening was spent on the lentil and spinach soup. I learnt a valuable lesson about red lentils. Read the instructions ENTIRELY first. My information pamphlet on lentils starts with the brown/green versions, which clearly indicates that they should be washed first. OK, no probs, I've got these lentil things well organised, I'll just wash these red ones and off we go. After I'd finally got everything cooking on the stove, I was casually reading about red lentils specifically, and discovered that it said to NOT wash them, otherwise you'll end up with a gluggy red mess. Aaah, so that's why I had a gluggy red mess. Not really supposed to happen that way. Another little lesson for me, tucked away in the "Don't do that one again" corner of the brain! Again, no great drama, the taste is probably not so different, just that the resulting soup is perhaps a little less red than it might otherwise have been.
As I mentioned yesterday, I am off to the bike shop tomorrow afternoon to check out the KTM option...
Chao,
A
In the end, it was a day where lethargy was the winner. I roused myself a bit more in the afternoon to go to the shops for "garam masala" ingredients, but that search didn't actually end until about 8PM when I visited my fifth supermercado for the day and FINALLY found some saffron (in a 0.25g packet!). For absolutely proper garam masala, I should've used cardamom seeds, but had to settle for the already ground version. I'd also like to have found a spice grinder or a decent mortar and pestle - the one I have is wooden and not the best. The end result of it all was perhaps a bit coarse? I ended up using it in a "middle eastern style lentil and spinach soup" and it tasted just fine to me!
Late in the afternoon, I had to succumb to the weariness and have a little siesta - my first here in Chile. I've always been a fan of the afternoon siesta, but have never quite managed to enjoy them often enough. It's a shame that they aren't as common here as they once were which pepped me up enough to go searching for that darn saffron that was eluding me!
The rest of the evening was spent on the lentil and spinach soup. I learnt a valuable lesson about red lentils. Read the instructions ENTIRELY first. My information pamphlet on lentils starts with the brown/green versions, which clearly indicates that they should be washed first. OK, no probs, I've got these lentil things well organised, I'll just wash these red ones and off we go. After I'd finally got everything cooking on the stove, I was casually reading about red lentils specifically, and discovered that it said to NOT wash them, otherwise you'll end up with a gluggy red mess. Aaah, so that's why I had a gluggy red mess. Not really supposed to happen that way. Another little lesson for me, tucked away in the "Don't do that one again" corner of the brain! Again, no great drama, the taste is probably not so different, just that the resulting soup is perhaps a little less red than it might otherwise have been.
As I mentioned yesterday, I am off to the bike shop tomorrow afternoon to check out the KTM option...
Chao,
A
Monday 26 July 2010
24 July 2010
Hello to all again.
First things first. I'm VERY tired. Another late night out, this time at a smoke-filled (and I mean "filled") karaoke bar, home just after 4AM with a couple of companions in tow. How did Saturday come to this?
It all started very promisingly. My visit to the motorbike shop with Mauricio and Lizette was excellent and problematic at the same time. They pretty much had their choice sorted out and just had to make sure they were happy and then go through the hoops of formalising the thing. Me, I wandered around the shop happily. I found the Aprilia that I thought was a nice looking bike and that I might be happy with. Not the cheapest thing in the world, but a bit different. This particular one was sold and awaiting collection (and had been for at least the last month since I was last in the shop), but they could get another one in quickly enough if I was keen. Hmmm, ok, I'll think about that.
Wandering further, BOTH of the big KTM's that were there previously had disappeared from the showroom floor. Surely they wouldn't have sold both of them in a few weeks. They are physically huge, very expensive, awesome, and not the sort of thing that you would think would move very quickly here. Still, the evidence was apparently there in front of me - no KTM's to salivate over.
But wait, what's that funny looking thing over in the corner? The one with the huge "bug-eyed" lights on the front of it. I'd like to say that I wandered nonchalantly over to have a casual look, but I think I probably left clouds of dust in my haste to check out the beast.
There are two brands of motorcyle whose engine/exhaust noise gets my heart racing. I know I'm not alone in this. Many feel the same when they hear a Ducati burbling away. I'd love to be the owner of a Duke but in general, they seem to be far too small for me to be remotely comfortable on. I've once ridden a relatively old one (thanks Matty) and had a ball on it, but crouching over it wasn't something I wanted to do for hours on end, as I think I'd need to be crow-barred off of it! As per usual, perhaps it's just my ignorance, but they just don't seem to make anything than things for pocket-sized Italians.
The other brand is also Italian - Moto Guzzi. My uncle Colin has been involved in the motorcycle business for many years and had long ago given me a detailed spiel about why Guzzi's were crap. This had subsequently coloured my view of them, but you still had to admit they sounded heavenly. And there, lurking in the corner, was something that was definitely Moto Guzzi. Big, red, whopping great motor with cylinder heads sticking out either side like who knows what. But it was in the shape of an off-road tourer! Shudders of delight went through me. I wasn't even vaguely aware that such a thing existed. I walked around and around it. Yep, it's real. Stelvio is the model name. 1,200cc motor. It looks new at first glance, but after I put my tongue back in my mouth and started paying attention, I realise that Mauricio is saying that it is second-hand. They guys in the shop offer to start it up. It's not possible to describe the throbbing sound of the exhaust note that does it justice. Just incredible. I ask for, and am offered, a test ride. How can I refuse?
First things first. I'm VERY tired. Another late night out, this time at a smoke-filled (and I mean "filled") karaoke bar, home just after 4AM with a couple of companions in tow. How did Saturday come to this?
It all started very promisingly. My visit to the motorbike shop with Mauricio and Lizette was excellent and problematic at the same time. They pretty much had their choice sorted out and just had to make sure they were happy and then go through the hoops of formalising the thing. Me, I wandered around the shop happily. I found the Aprilia that I thought was a nice looking bike and that I might be happy with. Not the cheapest thing in the world, but a bit different. This particular one was sold and awaiting collection (and had been for at least the last month since I was last in the shop), but they could get another one in quickly enough if I was keen. Hmmm, ok, I'll think about that.
Wandering further, BOTH of the big KTM's that were there previously had disappeared from the showroom floor. Surely they wouldn't have sold both of them in a few weeks. They are physically huge, very expensive, awesome, and not the sort of thing that you would think would move very quickly here. Still, the evidence was apparently there in front of me - no KTM's to salivate over.
But wait, what's that funny looking thing over in the corner? The one with the huge "bug-eyed" lights on the front of it. I'd like to say that I wandered nonchalantly over to have a casual look, but I think I probably left clouds of dust in my haste to check out the beast.
There are two brands of motorcyle whose engine/exhaust noise gets my heart racing. I know I'm not alone in this. Many feel the same when they hear a Ducati burbling away. I'd love to be the owner of a Duke but in general, they seem to be far too small for me to be remotely comfortable on. I've once ridden a relatively old one (thanks Matty) and had a ball on it, but crouching over it wasn't something I wanted to do for hours on end, as I think I'd need to be crow-barred off of it! As per usual, perhaps it's just my ignorance, but they just don't seem to make anything than things for pocket-sized Italians.
The other brand is also Italian - Moto Guzzi. My uncle Colin has been involved in the motorcycle business for many years and had long ago given me a detailed spiel about why Guzzi's were crap. This had subsequently coloured my view of them, but you still had to admit they sounded heavenly. And there, lurking in the corner, was something that was definitely Moto Guzzi. Big, red, whopping great motor with cylinder heads sticking out either side like who knows what. But it was in the shape of an off-road tourer! Shudders of delight went through me. I wasn't even vaguely aware that such a thing existed. I walked around and around it. Yep, it's real. Stelvio is the model name. 1,200cc motor. It looks new at first glance, but after I put my tongue back in my mouth and started paying attention, I realise that Mauricio is saying that it is second-hand. They guys in the shop offer to start it up. It's not possible to describe the throbbing sound of the exhaust note that does it justice. Just incredible. I ask for, and am offered, a test ride. How can I refuse?
So I climb aboard and off we go, just a quick blat around the block and back. Motor still sounds amazing, but I'm a bit worried about how it handles and the riding position, which for me, is not as roomy as I thought it'd be. I think back to what I saw of the rear tyre, which was well worn down the middle and not much at the sides. Maybe that's got a lot to do with how it is handling? Hard to know. When I get back, we get to talking. The bloke who has sold it has traded it in after about 17,000 (? - I'll have to check up on that) kilometres for one of those KTM's. Parts are difficult to get here in Copiapo. There is no authorised service centre here, and so on. They're doing their very best to talk me out of it, which I had to admit, wass taking its toll on my initial enthusiasm. Still, it's for sale in their shop. How much? I was expecting to hear a figure that translated into somewhere in the 20,000's, but it turns out that they'll off-load it for the equivalent of about A$17,000. Yep, still a lot, but given what I was expecting, it seems cheap, which I know is a bit perverse, but I can't help it... And it's a Moto Guzzi. And have I mentioned the sound it makes?
In a Siren-like attempt to lure me away, they shop guys announce that one of the KTM's that had gone missing, was in fact out in the workshop being readied for its new owner. They offered to get it out, fire it up and see what I thought. Event though it was sold, they had another one that could be in the showroom on Monday if I was interested. Yeah, OK, fair enough, let's have a look. So, the KTM comes out. KTM Adventure 990 R. Yep, it is still a beast, is a higher bike (better for us hombres with long legs) and so on. I climb on, we start it up, and yep, it sounds pretty good too, but still not quite like the Guzzi. In a world where fantasies come true, it'd be awesome to have both, but here in reality-land (Copiapo), that isn't going to happen. At some time in the future, my garage will definitely feature a collection of these things, but for now, one will do just fine.
Alright, so now I have plenty to think about. Probably best I do some thinking, as I've been known to make some spur-of-the-moment decisions and then think that perhaps it wasn't the best decision I could have made. Most of them turn out well enough in the end, but a bit of reflection would be no bad thing.
An attentive reader would, by this time, note that my initial mention of thinking about a Yamaha has gone waaaaay out the window!
Lizette gave me a lift back to my apartment, as Mauricio is riding his new bike home. She's a bit worried, to say the least, but he looks like he's in heaven. He's bought a new pair of gloves to go with the bike, and it looks like they will never leave his hands!
After a bit of lunch (chickpea and leek soup, would you believe), I duck downstairs to the ice-cream shop for a postre (dessert) vanilla ice-cream in a cone. Very yellow'ish vanilla ice-cream here, which I presume means they use a bit of buttermilk. Whatever the reason, it is excellent. As I'm slurping/munching away, what rolls past, but the KTM I was looking at just before, being ridden by it's new owner. Why am I so sure the owner is new to it? Because he manages to stall it at the lights right in front of me. Not so cool, but something we've all done. Right?
The afternoon disappears with some aimless wandering, followed by surfing the net and comparing bikes. KTM vs. Moto Guzzi. Moto Guzzi vs. KTM. Oh, I don't know... The reviews of the Stelvio are quite positive, but for the slightly smaller tank capacity, which limits its range to around 300km. Still quite a long way, but then again, it's a long way between petrol stations here as well, particularly if you are on the "road less travelled". I'll wait until Monday when I see this other KTM and then think a bit further.
Dinner time rolls around and yep, chickpea and leek soup again. My, but it's good. There is only enough left for lunch tomorrow, then that'll be it. I'll have to make some more, but another time, as there are other things for cooking tomorrow.
I try watching a bit of TV tonight, for the first time in a long time I'm laying on the couch, watching Lord of the Rings (in Spanish), and feeling a bit pleased with myself that I can sort of follow it. I'm also feeling a bit weary and having a small amount of trouble keeping my eyes open. As I'm about to succumb, my phone rings. Alexis and Patricio are thinking of heading out on the town tonight and want to know if I'll come along? Sure, why not. Further adventures in the Copiapo nightspots might be no bad thing. It's only about 9PM, so a few hours out won't greatly affect my plans for tomorrow (a drive along the coast and a bit of cooking), so yep, I'll be there. They say they'll give me a call later when they are ready. There's a band playing some Andean music somewhere, which sounds like a good night out.
Eventually, the boys call again. Ready to go? I head down to the Plaza and am collected, as planned. Small problem, nobody seems to know anything about where this band are playing - they've evaporated. After some brief consultation, we decide that Alexis' favourite (?) haunt, the "Arte Pub" looks like it might be where we'll go. It's a karaoke-bar, which I have to admit, doesn't excite me too much, as my minimal Australian experience of them is a bit dismal. Still, we'll see what happens. It's early when we get there, only about 10.30PM. We seat ourselves in the upstairs mezzanine floor and get ready to take in proceedings. So far, so good, one of the girls doing some singing sounds pretty good, and the fact that the words are all up on the screen means I can follow what is going on fairly easily. It's a great opportunity to hear how many words are pronounced/sung. It's just a shame about the smoking. Just about everyone is lit up, and all of the new arrivals continue with the theme. Across the course of the night, I think I count only 4 people, including me, that definitely did not smoke.
Across the rest of the night, the quality of the singers amazes me. Many of them are very good, and it seems that the pub attracts people to come and show off their talents. One young girl seems to be there with her mother and sister as chaperones, doesn't smoke, drinks what appears to be juice, and tries to get as much opportunity to sing as she can. She is fabulous, and earns very generous and well-deserved applause after each of her songs. It is almost a pity that everyone else seems keen to have a go as well, as it would be easy to listen to her all night. She did have some pretty stiff competition from a few of the other girls, and one guy in particular who was also very good. As expected, there were a few shockers (relatively speaking). Neither Alexis or Pato chose to sing with the microphone, although they did belt out a few vocals when some of their favourites came on.
I also picked up a new word while there. It describes a singer/song that is designed to make you sad, tug at your heart-strings and so on. We might call the song a "weepy" or "teary" one, but the word used here is "onionero" (get it?). Very descriptive, and I find it very funny, particularly as the spanish word for onion is "cebolla", but it has the same effect.
Aside from the music (and smoke), the rest of the night was filled with the usual scenario seen in pubs everywhere. Boys sitting at tables, looking longingly at the girls sitting at their tables. Occasional glances between the tables completely missed by the objectives of the glances, and no-one prepared to go and talk to the opposite sex at the other tables. Alexis found himself very much in love, but alas, nothing came of it, as he was resolutely ignored all night.
Eventually, the crowd was thinning at 4AM, so it was time to head off. Given it was so late, I invited the boys to my place, which was only a few minutes away. I reeked so badly that a shower was necessary before bed, finally crashing out at around 4.30AM. Looks very much like tomorrow's driving adventure won't be happening with an early start!
Must go, take care, love to all,
A
23 July 2010
Hmmm, another working week has disappeared without much that was very memorable, I'm afraid. There was a very small tremor lasting maybe 10-15 seconds, but that was about it. A lot of "head down, bum up", as they say in the classics!
I've pretty much decided during the week that I'd had enough of waiting for my stuff to arrive from Australia, and in particular, my recipe books. I've been cooking pretty much from the small warehouse of things in my memory and it is time for a change. I hope I've mentioned along the way that the legume and pulse section of the super-duper-markets here are pretty extensive, far more than I remember from Australia. There's always the chance that I wasn't paying attention in that part, I suppose, but they are really prominent here. Anyway, I spent a lazy evening perusing some recipe websites for things involving garbanzos (chickpeas), lentejas (lentils) and porotos (beans), which will make for some really different eating (for me).
"Long term" veterans of this blog might remember my flirting with garbanzos before when I made hommus and baba ganoush, but this time, it's serious. I have about 15 recipes to play with, and will probably over-do this, but in the meantime, look out. I've also discovered where they hide the tinned garbanzos. I've bought the dried ones so far and they take a fair bit of preparation and work, and they still end up with the consistency of a soft nut - no tragedy there, as I've still got all of my teeth and the texture is good, but not really as soft as I know they can be (i.e. in the tinned variety), nor as soft as some of the literature describes them as being. I'm not sure if I'm doing something wrong, or that is how they're supposed to be...
So, last night (Friday) involved braving the Jumbo again, kitted out with a long list of things to buy. It took nearly 1.5 hours of wandering up and down, looking for the hidden delights, but eventually most things were sourced, and off home to put it all away, ready to get cracking.
First up, chickpea and leek soup for dinner on Friday night. OK, so I was still cooking at about 11.30pm, but there isn't any rush here, particularly on the weekend! It's a bit of a misnomer to call this soup (as it turns out), as it is more of a watery stew. Very good...
Plans for the weekend involve a trip to the motorcycle shop. Mauricio and Lizette are buying a trail bike and I'm going to go along and drool over the KTM's and Aprilia's, but seriously consider one of the Yamaha's.
Will report in again soon.
Chao.
A
I've pretty much decided during the week that I'd had enough of waiting for my stuff to arrive from Australia, and in particular, my recipe books. I've been cooking pretty much from the small warehouse of things in my memory and it is time for a change. I hope I've mentioned along the way that the legume and pulse section of the super-duper-markets here are pretty extensive, far more than I remember from Australia. There's always the chance that I wasn't paying attention in that part, I suppose, but they are really prominent here. Anyway, I spent a lazy evening perusing some recipe websites for things involving garbanzos (chickpeas), lentejas (lentils) and porotos (beans), which will make for some really different eating (for me).
"Long term" veterans of this blog might remember my flirting with garbanzos before when I made hommus and baba ganoush, but this time, it's serious. I have about 15 recipes to play with, and will probably over-do this, but in the meantime, look out. I've also discovered where they hide the tinned garbanzos. I've bought the dried ones so far and they take a fair bit of preparation and work, and they still end up with the consistency of a soft nut - no tragedy there, as I've still got all of my teeth and the texture is good, but not really as soft as I know they can be (i.e. in the tinned variety), nor as soft as some of the literature describes them as being. I'm not sure if I'm doing something wrong, or that is how they're supposed to be...
So, last night (Friday) involved braving the Jumbo again, kitted out with a long list of things to buy. It took nearly 1.5 hours of wandering up and down, looking for the hidden delights, but eventually most things were sourced, and off home to put it all away, ready to get cracking.
First up, chickpea and leek soup for dinner on Friday night. OK, so I was still cooking at about 11.30pm, but there isn't any rush here, particularly on the weekend! It's a bit of a misnomer to call this soup (as it turns out), as it is more of a watery stew. Very good...
Plans for the weekend involve a trip to the motorcycle shop. Mauricio and Lizette are buying a trail bike and I'm going to go along and drool over the KTM's and Aprilia's, but seriously consider one of the Yamaha's.
Will report in again soon.
Chao.
A
Monday 19 July 2010
19 July 2010
G'day!
After a long weekend of much travel, it is fair to say that I'm pretty exhausted and looking forward to a week of a lot of sleep and a fairly quiet weekend ahead. Let's hope I can pull that off!
Friday the 16th, the first day of the long weekend, was spent working. Not that it was all that bad. It involved a field trip to a project we are assessing to the south of Copiapo, near the port of Huasco. Brave/foolhardy Alexis volunteered to come along and keep me safe for the day. The local expression in use for me is "Gringo loco", at least in part for working on the long weekend, however I'm quickly discovering that there is a widely accepted local equivalent of "Chileno loco" for Chileno's that volunteer to work on an allowed day off!
We were to go and check out the directions of the drillholes that had been completed in the project area, as the data supplied did not contain everything I needed and it was proving to be difficult to work out what was happening without the info. I could make educated guesses at some of it, but the rest needed further info, so off we went.
If all went well, we were hoping to come back to Copiapo via the towns of Frierina, Huasco and Vallenar.
After a two and a bit hour drive, we arrived in the project area, located all of the holes we were searching for (no rehab here!), took our measurements and photographs, and finished up at around 3pm. Perfect, just in time for a leisurely drive to Huasco for some lunch. Off we go, via Frierina, which is a little community in the Huasco Valley, between Vallenar and the port of Huasco itself. Definitely a little oasis of green amongst the grey, barren hills. The valley is wider and not as deep as I'd expected, but still quite nice to see from a distance, and not so bad when you were down and amongst it as well.
The bed of the valley is marked by a flowing river/stream - the first substantial flowing water that I've seen here. Flowing water means, of course, irrigation for crops. The most dominant crop here by a huge margin is olives. If anyone thinks there is a mania for olive-growing in Australia, then they should come to Chile and check out this part of the world. It is amazing. And if it isn't olives, then it is grapes. Somewhere in the Copiapo part of the world, other crops are grown - I've seen tomatoes being ferried in in small trucks, and the local supermarket sells capsicums that are grown locally, but I'm yet to see where they actually are!
I foolishly decide to ask Alexis what the name of the river is when we first cross it in Frierina. "Rio Frierina" is the answer, delivered in a very droll kind of way. Gullibly, I take that in, although later when we are closer to Huasco, when I am practicing the pronunciation of "Rio Frierina", he points out that the river is now called "Rio Huasco". This then leads to the realisation that when it runs through Vallenar, it is referred to as "Rio Vallenar". I'm afraid I find this very funny, and it has me in fits for the rest of the day whenever we see the river. Perhaps it was one of those "you had to be there..." kind of things.
Huasco has a bit of a holiday village kind of feel about it. Bigger than Caldera / Bahia Inglesa to the north, but I have to admit that at first glance, I like it more than the previous two. Definitely a proper town, along with the holiday village feel, rather than feeling like a bit of a ghost town.
It's apparently 40km to Vallenar. We're told you can do it in 30 minutes if you're fast, but it is suggested that it will take me nearly one hour. Nice.
After a long weekend of much travel, it is fair to say that I'm pretty exhausted and looking forward to a week of a lot of sleep and a fairly quiet weekend ahead. Let's hope I can pull that off!
Friday the 16th, the first day of the long weekend, was spent working. Not that it was all that bad. It involved a field trip to a project we are assessing to the south of Copiapo, near the port of Huasco. Brave/foolhardy Alexis volunteered to come along and keep me safe for the day. The local expression in use for me is "Gringo loco", at least in part for working on the long weekend, however I'm quickly discovering that there is a widely accepted local equivalent of "Chileno loco" for Chileno's that volunteer to work on an allowed day off!
We were to go and check out the directions of the drillholes that had been completed in the project area, as the data supplied did not contain everything I needed and it was proving to be difficult to work out what was happening without the info. I could make educated guesses at some of it, but the rest needed further info, so off we went.
If all went well, we were hoping to come back to Copiapo via the towns of Frierina, Huasco and Vallenar.
After a two and a bit hour drive, we arrived in the project area, located all of the holes we were searching for (no rehab here!), took our measurements and photographs, and finished up at around 3pm. Perfect, just in time for a leisurely drive to Huasco for some lunch. Off we go, via Frierina, which is a little community in the Huasco Valley, between Vallenar and the port of Huasco itself. Definitely a little oasis of green amongst the grey, barren hills. The valley is wider and not as deep as I'd expected, but still quite nice to see from a distance, and not so bad when you were down and amongst it as well.
The bed of the valley is marked by a flowing river/stream - the first substantial flowing water that I've seen here. Flowing water means, of course, irrigation for crops. The most dominant crop here by a huge margin is olives. If anyone thinks there is a mania for olive-growing in Australia, then they should come to Chile and check out this part of the world. It is amazing. And if it isn't olives, then it is grapes. Somewhere in the Copiapo part of the world, other crops are grown - I've seen tomatoes being ferried in in small trucks, and the local supermarket sells capsicums that are grown locally, but I'm yet to see where they actually are!
I foolishly decide to ask Alexis what the name of the river is when we first cross it in Frierina. "Rio Frierina" is the answer, delivered in a very droll kind of way. Gullibly, I take that in, although later when we are closer to Huasco, when I am practicing the pronunciation of "Rio Frierina", he points out that the river is now called "Rio Huasco". This then leads to the realisation that when it runs through Vallenar, it is referred to as "Rio Vallenar". I'm afraid I find this very funny, and it has me in fits for the rest of the day whenever we see the river. Perhaps it was one of those "you had to be there..." kind of things.
Huasco has a bit of a holiday village kind of feel about it. Bigger than Caldera / Bahia Inglesa to the north, but I have to admit that at first glance, I like it more than the previous two. Definitely a proper town, along with the holiday village feel, rather than feeling like a bit of a ghost town.
We pull up at the beachfront promenade and park the car. We check out the view of the harbour and think about our lunch. After all, it's pretty late, getting on for 4pm. Small dilemma, is that there are no restaurants in sight, which seems a bit peculiar given the location. There is one crusty local admiring the same view of the ocean as us, so Alexis gets the low-down on where to go for lunch. The recommended joint is only a couple of blocks, so off we walk. We eventually find it, looking decidedly "not open" from a distance, although as we get closer, perhaps there is an open door to indicate it is taking in punters like us.
We enter and find that there is another family already dining there, so clearly it is open, although the lack of staff to greet us as we come through the door and stand around is a bit surprising. I stick my head around the corner to practice my "Donde esta el bano?", which receives a flood of directions about where it is, so clearly I've got it down-pat! By the time I get back, we have the attention of the waitress and she is ready to take our orders. Alexis kindly does the questioning of the poor lady, who (literally) just about falls over when he mentions the vegetarian thing for me. Once she recovers from the shock, confirms that genuinely does mean "no meat", off she goes to sort something out. It'll be interesting to see how they cope.
Happily, they deliver in spades. One of the better salads I've had here, so I'm feeling pretty happy with the world by the time we are ready to leave. We stroll along the promenade back to the car, past about 10 restaurants that we couldn't see from the other end, admiring the clarity of the water, checking out what appear to be very large and spiky-looking starfish - hopefully not "crown-of-thorns" ones, but something nice, local and harmless. The clarity of the water is highlighted by the presence of a building housing the local diving club. Despite the likely frigid nature of the water, it is easy to imagine heaps of divers in the bay during the warmer months.
We enter and find that there is another family already dining there, so clearly it is open, although the lack of staff to greet us as we come through the door and stand around is a bit surprising. I stick my head around the corner to practice my "Donde esta el bano?", which receives a flood of directions about where it is, so clearly I've got it down-pat! By the time I get back, we have the attention of the waitress and she is ready to take our orders. Alexis kindly does the questioning of the poor lady, who (literally) just about falls over when he mentions the vegetarian thing for me. Once she recovers from the shock, confirms that genuinely does mean "no meat", off she goes to sort something out. It'll be interesting to see how they cope.
Happily, they deliver in spades. One of the better salads I've had here, so I'm feeling pretty happy with the world by the time we are ready to leave. We stroll along the promenade back to the car, past about 10 restaurants that we couldn't see from the other end, admiring the clarity of the water, checking out what appear to be very large and spiky-looking starfish - hopefully not "crown-of-thorns" ones, but something nice, local and harmless. The clarity of the water is highlighted by the presence of a building housing the local diving club. Despite the likely frigid nature of the water, it is easy to imagine heaps of divers in the bay during the warmer months.
It's apparently 40km to Vallenar. We're told you can do it in 30 minutes if you're fast, but it is suggested that it will take me nearly one hour. Nice.
We hit Vallenar just at sunset, stop off for an ice cream, coffee and to buy some cheese at a local shop. This is the first evidence of a dairy industry in the area that I've seen and I'm pretty excited to try some local cheese. Problem is that it is Friday, and they've run out of nearly everything. Monday is the day to come, we're assured. Lots of cheese here on Monday...
We head in to Vallenar to see what it is about and conclude that it is pretty much a mini Copiapo, but perhaps better situated? Anyway, a few laps of the town square and we're ready to go. It would've been only the one, but we can't figure out which road gets us out of town. Eventually we spot it, and we're off.
The trip to Copiapo is done in the dark on Ruta 5, the Panamericana. The volume of trucks and buses is (again) amazing to see. At the moment, it is one north-bound lane and one south-bound. There is a large amount of duplication going on such that it will be two lanes in either direction, and not before time!
Back in Copiapo, I head to my apartment to get ready for my grand adventure to Santiago. I have a shower, pack, and make it to the bus terminal with about 20 minutes to spare. Perfection!
I mill around with everyone else, waiting to see how it all works. There are no signs to indicate what bus is going where, so I start to feel a little worried and quiz one of the drivers about whether his bus to Santiago is the one for me. Nope, mine is the one that leaves 10 minutes later than his. I have no idea how often they run to the south, but the place is a constant hive of activity, buses coming and going, and with one leaving for the same destination as me, but 10 minutes earlier, it boggles the mind to think how many there might be in a day. I'm sure they don't leave EVERY 10 minutes, but there'd have to be at least one to Santiago every hour at least. Incredible.
Eventually, my bus arrives. Only a single-decker (bummer), so we line up to hand our bags over for storage. Yeah right, line up. That's a good one. Despite Chileno's being champion queuer's in shopping centres, here at the bus stop, it's first in and you're ready to get on the bus, while the bewildered gringo is standing there, wondering how on earth all these people have managed to appear in front of him! Eventually the rush slows, I hand my bag over, get my ticket and go in search of my seat. Ha - the rush wasn't necessary, as my bag is on, I have my seat and we're off into the unknown.
I'm pleased to find I have a window seat. Not much good at 10pm, but when we hit Santiago, it should be mid morning, so plenty to see on the way in to town, or so I hoped. First though, the business of getting through the night...
It is about 800km to Santiago from Copiapo, an unknown number of stops, and about 11 hours in which to do it. So, to misquote that idiot/genius Donald Rumsfeld, "we have some known knowns, some known unknowns, but we don't know about the unknown unknowns!" It'll be interesting to find out about the "unknown unknowns".
One of the "known unknowns" was how I'd cope with the seating arrangements. The seats are clearly (and fairly) arranged to suit the proportions of the average Chileno, rather than personally designed for me. I'd purchased a "semi cama" ticket, which translates to something like "part bed", which means that it reclines a fair way, but not to horizontal. No big deal, until the guy in front decides to lay his seat down as far as it would go, slamming into my knees and trapping them between part of my seat and the back of his. I eventually manage to wiggle them free at the side of the seat and reach a state of "not entirely uncomfortable", which isn't so bad.
As it turns out, I'm fairly tired from the long drive I've already done today, and I drift off to sleep quite happily, waking periodically through the night when my neck was hurting (I think I need one of those little ring-shaped neck pillows), when I was starting to snore, or when I was thirsty.
So, by about 7AM, I'm pretty much awake and looking out the window at the sun coming up, as best as possible, given the thick fog/smog surrounding what appear to be hills outside. Eventually, we hit the city outskirts and more, arriving at the bus terminus at around 8.30-9.00AM. It is very cold and I discover that the public banos cost 200 pesos to use. Money well spent, right at the moment, although why they feel the need to chill the water at the hand basin is beyond me. It is hard to imagine how the water could be any colder and remain flowing!
I knew that it shouldn't be too far to get to the metro (trains) from here, but am surprised to find that there are signs right at the terminus, and as it turns out, there is a station here. Brilliant. I recharge my BIP card (the electronic ticketing thingie) and head for the platform to take me to the city centre, to find a train pulling in. Brilliant (again).
Fifteen minutes later, I'm at the Santa Lucia station, which is right next to the little park with the pretty fountain and gum trees that I found when I was here in April. This is all going so smoothly, I have a good two hours to pass before my accommodation is ready, so I wander the streets of the city centre. A few of the shops are only just beginning to think about opening, and most are steadfastly closed. Eventually I stumble across the Plaza de Armas - what appears to be the main central square of the city, complete with whopping great cathedral, massive other buildings, and a discretely tucked away line of take-away hot dog vendors and hamburger joints (imagine 100m of these things...). I remain untempted!
Further wanderings, shops beginning to open and the city unfolds itself. Arcade after arcade, the scale is incredible. I wander in amazement, forgetting to take happy snaps for the record. It is hard to imagine how there can be so many shops here, and this is only one part of the city. The other suburb that I have seen has enormous malls as well. It seems Chileno's don't mind shopping!
Eventually I find something that looks appetising to eat - empanadas. These are something like cheese (or various kinds of meat) -filled pastry delights. The best ones are baked over an open fire, although you can find deep-friend varieties. Mine is from an oven, and fills a hole.
Eventually I check in to my serviced apartment, have a shower and a bit of a relax, then it is off to the big mall in the suburb of Las Condes for some shopping. I'm after a decent winter coat, given my other one won't arrive for another couple of months, some decent sheets for my bed, and a few minor odds and ends (gloves, and a double adapter power point thingie, except here they don't come as doubles, but as triples).
With all of that achieved successfully, it is back on the bus and train to my accommodation, but first, more wandering around and exloring the city centre. Just beautiful, although as night approaches, there is a slightly seedy side to it, as I expect most city centres around the world have. I was propositioned by a couple of the local street hookers - absolutely classics - standing in doorways, furtive glances towards me as I was walking along the street, and then "PSSST, senor...". I smiled on the inside, and walked faster (away)...
Dinner was great. A little Italian restaurant next to the apartments. Not the cheapest restaurant I've been to in Chile, but then you don't find minestrone soup, followed by artichoke-filled ravioli with a mushroom sauce, topped off with an excellent tiramisu everywhere here either. It made for a really nice change from salad or pizza...
Huge sleep in on Sunday, and awoke to find the day was beautiful, despite a bit more smog/fog than ideal. Still, you could feel the sun as you stepped out, so walking in the park along the Mapocho River towards the artsy/touristy suburb of Bellavista was delightful. The plan was to go to the Cerro St Cristobal again, but on arrival, it seemed that most of Santiago had the same idea as well, and the gates to the park were closed, there were that many people there. No problem, I could just keep walking through the touristy area, saw the Patio Bellavista (crafts shops, restaurants etc - sort of like a mini Southbank in Melbourne), checked out a few possibilities for lunch, strolled the river a bit further to Place Italia (I think that is what it is called), then doubled back to Bellavista for a leisurely lunch at a very cool (trendy) restaurant, only half full, for yet another excellent meal (potato lasagna and sauteed vegetables - again, not something you find in Copiapo!).
Eventually I find something that looks appetising to eat - empanadas. These are something like cheese (or various kinds of meat) -filled pastry delights. The best ones are baked over an open fire, although you can find deep-friend varieties. Mine is from an oven, and fills a hole.
Eventually I check in to my serviced apartment, have a shower and a bit of a relax, then it is off to the big mall in the suburb of Las Condes for some shopping. I'm after a decent winter coat, given my other one won't arrive for another couple of months, some decent sheets for my bed, and a few minor odds and ends (gloves, and a double adapter power point thingie, except here they don't come as doubles, but as triples).
With all of that achieved successfully, it is back on the bus and train to my accommodation, but first, more wandering around and exloring the city centre. Just beautiful, although as night approaches, there is a slightly seedy side to it, as I expect most city centres around the world have. I was propositioned by a couple of the local street hookers - absolutely classics - standing in doorways, furtive glances towards me as I was walking along the street, and then "PSSST, senor...". I smiled on the inside, and walked faster (away)...
Dinner was great. A little Italian restaurant next to the apartments. Not the cheapest restaurant I've been to in Chile, but then you don't find minestrone soup, followed by artichoke-filled ravioli with a mushroom sauce, topped off with an excellent tiramisu everywhere here either. It made for a really nice change from salad or pizza...
Huge sleep in on Sunday, and awoke to find the day was beautiful, despite a bit more smog/fog than ideal. Still, you could feel the sun as you stepped out, so walking in the park along the Mapocho River towards the artsy/touristy suburb of Bellavista was delightful. The plan was to go to the Cerro St Cristobal again, but on arrival, it seemed that most of Santiago had the same idea as well, and the gates to the park were closed, there were that many people there. No problem, I could just keep walking through the touristy area, saw the Patio Bellavista (crafts shops, restaurants etc - sort of like a mini Southbank in Melbourne), checked out a few possibilities for lunch, strolled the river a bit further to Place Italia (I think that is what it is called), then doubled back to Bellavista for a leisurely lunch at a very cool (trendy) restaurant, only half full, for yet another excellent meal (potato lasagna and sauteed vegetables - again, not something you find in Copiapo!).
So, the day winds down, and I catch the train back to the bus station. I've been so spoilt with the frequency of the trains, that because I have to wait nearly 5 minutes this time, I toy with the idea of being outraged, then smile at the comparison with Perth - probably the better part of an hour between trains late on a Sunday afternoon? Not much better (if any) in Melbourne. Santaguineans should be very proud of their train system. It is right up there with the London and Paris Metro's, and almost certainly cleaner that both.
I arrive at the bus station in plenty of time and am then baffled by how on earth amongst the 40-odd parking bays I am supposed to find my bus. There is a word on my ticket I don't know, and therefore assume it must be the parking bay. This turns out to be correct, which pleases me no end. My bus arrives, I queue patiently, and am again completely swamped by everyone else putting their bags on first. This time, I'm not having any of that stuff! I push forward with everyone else, only to be neatly rebuffed by the conductor, who is taking bags in order of the towns from Santiago, furthest first. But there's no way I'm giving up my position at the front, so I wait dumbly for him to call for bags to Copiapo and in it goes.
This time, we're on a double decker bus, I have a window seat again, and it's night time. Doh! We head off and I find that there is even less room for me on this bus. The seat in front is reclined and I can do nothing but put one knee on either side of it and cannot then make any further movement that to wiggle my feet. And there are another 10 or so hours of this ahead of me. Hmmm, perhaps not the best move.
I arrive at the bus station in plenty of time and am then baffled by how on earth amongst the 40-odd parking bays I am supposed to find my bus. There is a word on my ticket I don't know, and therefore assume it must be the parking bay. This turns out to be correct, which pleases me no end. My bus arrives, I queue patiently, and am again completely swamped by everyone else putting their bags on first. This time, I'm not having any of that stuff! I push forward with everyone else, only to be neatly rebuffed by the conductor, who is taking bags in order of the towns from Santiago, furthest first. But there's no way I'm giving up my position at the front, so I wait dumbly for him to call for bags to Copiapo and in it goes.
This time, we're on a double decker bus, I have a window seat again, and it's night time. Doh! We head off and I find that there is even less room for me on this bus. The seat in front is reclined and I can do nothing but put one knee on either side of it and cannot then make any further movement that to wiggle my feet. And there are another 10 or so hours of this ahead of me. Hmmm, perhaps not the best move.
I try to sleep for as much of the trip as possible, without huge success. I'm just too uncomfortable. Eventually I sleep and later wake feeling reasonably OK. The bus is just pulling in to a town and with a rush of excitement, we pass a building that looks like what I remember of the hospital in Vallenar. Could I be so lucky to have slept for about 6 or so hours? Nope, unfortunately it is only La Serena - half way. At least I get to stretch my legs for 5 minutes.
The rest of the trip is accomplished half asleep, half in agony at being unable to move my legs and back. We roll in to Copiapo at 5AM - my but it is cold, but at least I'm "home". Half asleep in the queue to get my bags, I am again swamped by people pushing in ahead of my. But I am not last. One Chileno and I smile tiredly at each other (or was it a grimace) about the rude bastards that pushed in ahead of us. Still, my apartment is so close, that I'll be home before most of them. Ha.
So, what did I learn from my trip/adventure? Yes, 800km is a damn long way to go on a bus when you are my size, especially in the semi-cama seats. There are other options with more room, so perhaps I'll try them next time. No, I've not been put off, I just know one way of travelling that doesn't suit me so well. We'll see what happens on my next adventure!
That'll do for now. All up to date. As usual, love and sunshine to all! Take care.
Andrew
14 July 2010
Hola!
Well, a couple of days in Santiago have passed all to rapidly. It really is a lovely city (as cities go), or perhaps it is just the part of the city that I am seeing? I've spent the last two days esconced in our lawyers offices, plenty of peace and quiet to get on with some work, with only minor interruptions to talk about my visa documents, the process that is happening, and what I need to do.
A poor young para-legal has had to spend (at least part of) her day yesterday trying to get advice from the Extranjero's (foreign workers) Department, or something similar to that, as to whether I am actually legal or not. It seems that advice from one of the office clerks is the same as I received from the government official in Copiapo - that I have nothing to worry about, that the tourist card is the one with the important date. That gives me a months breathing space.
I discuss this with Barbara, the lawyer who moved the slowest when this job was being handed out, and pointed out that while the advice was nice and reassuring, the officials at the airport when I arrived at the end of May were quite interested in my tourist visa and paid quite some attention to it. This caused a bit of worry, so Barbara decided to make sure by seeking advice from a lawyer in the Extranjero's office. In the end, it turns out that I probably was illegal and as such, I've received a "he's a very naughty boy" letter and "don't do it again" from the relevant government authority, paid for a new tourist visa etc., and have been sent on my way with four additional pieces of paper to carry around in my wallet to help explain it all to anyone foolish enough to question me. If my Spanglish doesn't get them, paperwork will finish them off completely!
All in all, I had a good time in Santiago. Got heaps of data compilation done for a project we are considering, re-acquainted myself with the magnificence of the "Starbucks" coffee chain and their chai-latte's, still the one and only establishment in Santiago/Chile that I've found to date that sell them. Still, the search will continue for a wider choice...
It is now looking like my proper work visa will not be lodged for another week or two. It will then take the government around 4 weeks to provide written acknowledgement that they have received it. Then, and only then, can the process of bringing my meagre belongings to Chile commence. So, at best, I'll have my stuff that is being sent here (the rest is in storage) arrive in around two more months. That'll be about 3.5 months of living out of a "suitcase". I dare say that I'll be so happy to see some of the new stuff that some of the old stuff will be disposed of with extreme prejudice. I've already had to buy a winter coat because the one that I brought with me wasn't up to the job, and this despite having a fantastic one from Edinburgh in my kit to come over. "Such is life", as someone famous once said (was it Benny Cousins?). If we knew how things would turn out, we'd maybe do a few things differently...
Back in Copiapo, I received my first mail package from Australia. Letters (yay), bills (booo!), and other assorted bits and pieces (yay). A good couple of hours sorting through that lot was just the thing!
There's a long weekend coming up this weekend, and I'm off to Santiago again on Friday night for an adventure via bus.
Hope all are well.
A
Well, a couple of days in Santiago have passed all to rapidly. It really is a lovely city (as cities go), or perhaps it is just the part of the city that I am seeing? I've spent the last two days esconced in our lawyers offices, plenty of peace and quiet to get on with some work, with only minor interruptions to talk about my visa documents, the process that is happening, and what I need to do.
A poor young para-legal has had to spend (at least part of) her day yesterday trying to get advice from the Extranjero's (foreign workers) Department, or something similar to that, as to whether I am actually legal or not. It seems that advice from one of the office clerks is the same as I received from the government official in Copiapo - that I have nothing to worry about, that the tourist card is the one with the important date. That gives me a months breathing space.
I discuss this with Barbara, the lawyer who moved the slowest when this job was being handed out, and pointed out that while the advice was nice and reassuring, the officials at the airport when I arrived at the end of May were quite interested in my tourist visa and paid quite some attention to it. This caused a bit of worry, so Barbara decided to make sure by seeking advice from a lawyer in the Extranjero's office. In the end, it turns out that I probably was illegal and as such, I've received a "he's a very naughty boy" letter and "don't do it again" from the relevant government authority, paid for a new tourist visa etc., and have been sent on my way with four additional pieces of paper to carry around in my wallet to help explain it all to anyone foolish enough to question me. If my Spanglish doesn't get them, paperwork will finish them off completely!
All in all, I had a good time in Santiago. Got heaps of data compilation done for a project we are considering, re-acquainted myself with the magnificence of the "Starbucks" coffee chain and their chai-latte's, still the one and only establishment in Santiago/Chile that I've found to date that sell them. Still, the search will continue for a wider choice...
It is now looking like my proper work visa will not be lodged for another week or two. It will then take the government around 4 weeks to provide written acknowledgement that they have received it. Then, and only then, can the process of bringing my meagre belongings to Chile commence. So, at best, I'll have my stuff that is being sent here (the rest is in storage) arrive in around two more months. That'll be about 3.5 months of living out of a "suitcase". I dare say that I'll be so happy to see some of the new stuff that some of the old stuff will be disposed of with extreme prejudice. I've already had to buy a winter coat because the one that I brought with me wasn't up to the job, and this despite having a fantastic one from Edinburgh in my kit to come over. "Such is life", as someone famous once said (was it Benny Cousins?). If we knew how things would turn out, we'd maybe do a few things differently...
Back in Copiapo, I received my first mail package from Australia. Letters (yay), bills (booo!), and other assorted bits and pieces (yay). A good couple of hours sorting through that lot was just the thing!
There's a long weekend coming up this weekend, and I'm off to Santiago again on Friday night for an adventure via bus.
Hope all are well.
A
Monday 12 July 2010
11 July 2010
Aaah, Sunday. A nice sleep in, leisurely breakfast. Decide what to do with myself for the rest of the day. The final of the World Cup is on this afternoon from 2.30pm. No mention from the gang as to anything specific that they'll be doing, but I imagine that they'll watch it somewhere. Do I really want to go and watch it, or just do my own thing? After all, I know who is going to win. Paul the Octopus reckons it'll be Spain, and he hasn't been wrong so far. Like everyone else in the world though, I'd prefer him to be picking my lotto numbers than the results of a game of soccer! Anyway, big decisions to be made...
After catching up on a few emails, the weather is looking nice and clear. Once again, I have wheels for the weekend, this time the Mitsubishi Triton (here it is referred to as a Katana). We have three vehicles and I've had a different one for each of the last three. Is there something to that? Does it mean anything? I don't think so, but for the moment, I'm pleased about having the Mitzi, as it is the nicest of the three to drive, despite having the most kilometres on the clock.
So, where do I go? In the end, I think I'll head to the coast, exploring some of the remote beaches etc. to the west of Copiapo. In order to get there, I head northwest towards Caldera, but turn off at the sign to Puerto Viejo to see what that is all about. The hills and the plane are relatively plain in comparison to the splendour of the Andes in previous weekends, but slightly more vegetation than you see further inland. The plants must be very hardy to survive (largely) on what they can get out of any condensation from those sea fogs that I've mentioned before. The closer I get to the coast, the darker it is getting, as the cloud increases. Perhaps it isn't going to be as nice a day as I thought?
I cross over a relatively major road heading north-south and see from the signs that this is the "coast road" between Caldera and Huasco to the south. I'm still 7 k's from Puerto Viejo, so rather than following the road immediately, the obvious thing to do is continue on and see the Puerto. My limited experience of the coastline so far tells me that there is a pretty darn good chance I'll see a whopping great ship loader, covered in grey dust, loading a ship with concentrate from a nearby mine. Spectacular enough in their own right, but today I'm after spectacular coastline, remote secluded beaches and scenic beauty. Just after the crossroads, I'm focusing on the road ahead, but spot a patch of white off to the side of the road out of the corner of my eye. I glance across and am surprised to see what appears to be wildflowers. Slowing down a bit and looking further ahead, there are more and more patches evident, some which appear to be quite thick with flowers. It is all very reminiscent of the wildflowers in the Goldfields of WA. I make a mental note to stop on the way back from the Puerto...
I can see that the coastline is in front of me, but there is a little ridge to come up on to before I'll be able to see it properly. I can start to see some shacks, but notice that just ahead, there is one of those small signs indicating a photographic viewpoint. I drive off the road to it, "...top the rise, wipe my eyes..." (does anyone remember that ad?), and find Puerto Viejo.
After catching up on a few emails, the weather is looking nice and clear. Once again, I have wheels for the weekend, this time the Mitsubishi Triton (here it is referred to as a Katana). We have three vehicles and I've had a different one for each of the last three. Is there something to that? Does it mean anything? I don't think so, but for the moment, I'm pleased about having the Mitzi, as it is the nicest of the three to drive, despite having the most kilometres on the clock.
So, where do I go? In the end, I think I'll head to the coast, exploring some of the remote beaches etc. to the west of Copiapo. In order to get there, I head northwest towards Caldera, but turn off at the sign to Puerto Viejo to see what that is all about. The hills and the plane are relatively plain in comparison to the splendour of the Andes in previous weekends, but slightly more vegetation than you see further inland. The plants must be very hardy to survive (largely) on what they can get out of any condensation from those sea fogs that I've mentioned before. The closer I get to the coast, the darker it is getting, as the cloud increases. Perhaps it isn't going to be as nice a day as I thought?
I cross over a relatively major road heading north-south and see from the signs that this is the "coast road" between Caldera and Huasco to the south. I'm still 7 k's from Puerto Viejo, so rather than following the road immediately, the obvious thing to do is continue on and see the Puerto. My limited experience of the coastline so far tells me that there is a pretty darn good chance I'll see a whopping great ship loader, covered in grey dust, loading a ship with concentrate from a nearby mine. Spectacular enough in their own right, but today I'm after spectacular coastline, remote secluded beaches and scenic beauty. Just after the crossroads, I'm focusing on the road ahead, but spot a patch of white off to the side of the road out of the corner of my eye. I glance across and am surprised to see what appears to be wildflowers. Slowing down a bit and looking further ahead, there are more and more patches evident, some which appear to be quite thick with flowers. It is all very reminiscent of the wildflowers in the Goldfields of WA. I make a mental note to stop on the way back from the Puerto...
I can see that the coastline is in front of me, but there is a little ridge to come up on to before I'll be able to see it properly. I can start to see some shacks, but notice that just ahead, there is one of those small signs indicating a photographic viewpoint. I drive off the road to it, "...top the rise, wipe my eyes..." (does anyone remember that ad?), and find Puerto Viejo.
Hmmm, what to make of it? No ship loader in sight, which I'm pleased about! Puerto Viejo is largely a summer holiday "town", full of little houses / shacks that the locals have built for themselves in whatever fashion they choose to do so. It doesn't appear there are a lot of town planning considerations here! The colours of the houses vary. Many are unpainted, but those that are painted are often done in very vivid colours, and the whole effect, while looking chaotic, actually looks like it might be a whole heap of fun in summer time.
Apparently many of the shacks are owned by people from Copiapo and during the summer school holidays, families move here. The husbands go back to Copiapo and work during the week, then return at the weekend. The wives and kids stay on and (no doubt) run amok, doing whatever it is that you when you are on holidays, which is generally whatever you please!
In the middle of winter, the place is nearly deserted. A lonely water truck was circulating, bringing potable water to those still there, so clearly there must be a few people there. As I drive slowly through the town, there is a little bit of movement here and there, but I wouldn't have seen more than 50 people (at most). There are a few little shops open, no doubt hoping for a stray tourist, but not for me. It's a bit early to be stopping for anything just yet.
I head back out of town and off looking for those flowers again. They are just as beautiful from the other direction. I find the biggest patch that I saw on the way out and am very pleased that the sun comes out in my little area just as I get there. There's a couple of varieties, but not being at all botanically-minded, I can't even begin to suggest what they might be. They look tantalisingly familiar, and I can't help feeling that I should know what they are, but can't remember. They are almost all white, with the occasional variant in there with blue tinges. Just glorious, and I feel guilty about walking through them, trying no to stand on any and ruin the whole thing.
The flowers are part of the "Desierto Florido" (hope I've got that right), which is something that happens in the Atacama Desert when there has been enough rain at the right time to trigger the dormant plants into action. There have been a couple of rain events between when I was here in April and when I got back at the end of May, so everyone has been looking forward to seeing what will come of it. So far, these are the major ones I've seen, although if you search the internet, you'll find extraordinary images of what was once just barren wasteland covered in a range of plants with flowers of glorious colours. Alexis reckons if we get one more burst of rain, the whole place will go off!
After the flowers, I get back in the car, turn to the south, and go forth in order to see what else I can see. According to the map, which I was smart enough to bring this time, the next beach should be the Playa la Virgen (again, I think I've got this right), allegedly in 12 k's. As I drive past 15 k's, no sign of the turnoff. Oh well, looks like I'll be saving that one up for another time. Onwards we go.
So far the road has been placed well inland from the coastline. In fact I don't think I've been able to spot it. The turnoff to the next town is at a crossroad, so it's looking like that might be how it is. Quite a good road, well maintained, heading down the coast some 5-7 k's inland, then you turn off it to each of the towns and / or beaches. Not quite as I'd imagined, which was something more in the Great Ocean Road kind of category, but it'll do for a lazy Sunday.
The next crossroad will take me to the town of Barranquilla. Having seen Puerto Viejo, I'm not sure what to expect. Ship loader, holiday village, or something else?
As I enter the town, it looks a little grim. The weather is not helping. As I get closer to the coast, it gets more grey, yet a couple of k's inland, it's all sunshine again. Definitely a feature of this coastline! The town is definitely more of an active fishing village kind of place. Perhaps there's an element of holiday shacks here as well, but there are more people about, more fishing nets out and about, and definitely more fishing boats in the harbour. Now being quite late, around 1pm, I presume the inhabitants are thinking more about lunch than the "loco gringo" driving around and looking VERY out of place in his shiny Mitsubishi. As I drive around the edge of the harbour on the very narrow street, I see a couple of likely looking lads, still dressed in what I imagine are their fishing clothes, blood-covered gumboots and all, shouting at some people across the way. As I get closer, they turn their attention to me and begin gesticulating wildly in my direction. Bother. There's nothing I can do but pull up next to them, wind the window down, and listen to the rapid stream of Spanish emanating from them, pointing very urgently into their shack. I smile and give just a little laugh to myself, then begin my spiel. Sorry chaps, I have no idea what you've just said. I only have a little Spanish. FISH! is the cry in return, followed by more wild pointing into the shack. I crane forward and can see that they have quite a large, long fish, perhaps a foot long, hanging from the wall. Looks to be their last fish to be sold for the day, judging by the lack of mates the poor thing has to hang there with him. I forget the price being offered now, perhaps CH$3000 per kilogram. I apologise again, sorry chaps, this is your unlucky day. I'm a vegetarian! To their credit, they take this completely in their stride, which was a nice change, since most Chileno's usually then work through the list of things that I don't eat. What, no beef? No chicken? No ham? No pork? No fish? No shellfish? No crustaceans? Yada yada yada! We have a brief further exchange about where I'm from, what do I think of Barranquilla and can I drive around further up ahead, or do I have to turn around and come back the same way? Not entirely in Spanish, as one of the lads has about as much English as I have Spanish, so it's all very entertaining.
In the end, I wave goodbye and head on, only to have to turn around in 100m and then drive back past them again. This time I'm fortunate, as they're sitting down with a few of their mates, regaling with the story of the crazy guy who just came past and doesn't eat meat! We wave again, exchange grins, and then I'm gone. As I drive off, I realise I should've asked to take a photo for them, but am too embarrased to go back and hassle them for one now, having taken up their time for no good reason. Besides, it's getting close to lunch time, and I'm a very long way from my intended lunch destination of Huasco.
I head south again. This time the road is a bit closer to the coast. Tracks disappear off towards the coast at regular intervals towards un-named, un-signed beaches. While I'm tempted, my tummy is beginning to rumble and think about lunch. I decide I'll brave a restaurant at the next town. Worst case scenario is likely to be papas fritas (chips), which seem to be done pretty much everywhere.
OK, the next crossroad is for Bahia Salada. At least that sounds like I'll be able to get something to eat there! Unfortunately this time it is just beach. It's a long flat one, with a couple of small shacks at either end of it, but nothing that looks particularly inviting from the middle of the beach. The breeze is coming in fairly firmly as well, so I take a few snaps and get back to the warmth of the car. Oh well, I'll just carry on.
As I get back to the crossroad, I review that map. Next to the south is something labelled Cta. Pajonales. Not having a clue what to expect from a Cta., I notice that the road to the east, back towards Copiapo, is looking pretty well used. It's also only about 60 k's, I'm pretty darn hungry about now, it's nearly 2pm (with the soccer starting at 2.30). There's still a good 100 or so k's to Huasco, with plenty of beaches / towns on the map still to go. Perhaps I'll just save that part of the trip up for another time!
I head for Copiapo on the good road, which as these sorts of roads do, quickly turned to large corrugations within a few kilometres. I also have a bit of a revelation about the roads here. This one in particular highlights to me that on the blind crests, the ones that you can't see the road on the other side of for a good few hundred metres, the road tends to change direction subtly, so belting along and over the crests is not always a good idea. Your heart skips a little when you suddenly realise the road isn't going where you thought it would...
After a stop for a little more scenery, everything is pretty much routine on the drive back to Copiapo.
I ended up gate crashing the football-watching at Lizette and Mauricio's house, as Alexis and Patricio had gone there, along with Alexis' sister Giselle. Lizette (very kindly - thanks again!) knocked up some lunch for me and we watched Spain win (good ol' Paul was on the money again!).
One final bit of exitement for the day. Back at my apartment, just writing some emails, thinking about getting ready for bed and it happens. The building starts to sway a little, with windows rattle gentle. Wahooo! Another earthquake / tremor! How big will it be, how long will it go for? I immediately note the time - 8:14pm. It seems to go on and on, a little ebb and flow, and eventually it just fades away. The whole thing lasted for about 75 seconds. As per last time, I feel the adrenaline flowing through me. Very exciting. I wait a few minutes, then try logging into the USGS earthquake monitoring website. No, nothing there just yet. I decide to report an "Unknown Event" and in the few minutes it takes to fill that out, there in the main section, the quake shows up. It is centred to the north of here, near the city of Calama, but out near the border. It's relatively big as well, magnitude 6.2, but deep, nearly 100km. Still, I felt it, and that's what is important! Not as strong here as the previous one from a few weeks ago, but nonetheless, a bit entertaining.
Must go now. Am off to Santiago tomorrow to become legal in the country once more!A
Saturday 10 July 2010
9 July 2010
Hellooo again!
My brothers birthday today. Hope you have a good one Boris!
A major bit of excitement today. I was having further thoughts about my visa and how long it was taking to get organised and all that sort of stuff, when I looked at my original tourist visa I got when I came to Chile in April. It had a validity of 90 days, which I well knew, but had in my head that it would last until August. Hmmm, a quick bit of mental maths made me realise that three months from 10 April is about 10 July. That'd be tomorrow. Crap. I need to leave the country, urgently. Looks like that weekend in Argentina that I'd mentioned (jokingly) a few times might become a reality within the next 24 hours. What to wear?
I headed to the local airline office with Lizette to book my tickets etc. Our friendly sales rep Emiliana looked up her calendar and counted out the number of days since 10 April and worked out that the 90 days actually expired yesterday. I have officially overstayed my visa. Crap, crap, crap. This means that I couldn't front up at the airport because as soon as I was to go through emigration, they'd pick up on that and at the least, issue me with a fine, which was not what I wanted. I also didn't want to highlight that I've overstayed given my work visa stuff is in process. Not a good look.
We were then directed towards a local government official who might be able to help out with what to do next. Before too long (only two referrals to someone else), we found a gentleman who looked disapprovingly at the gringo in front of him, listened patiently to Lizette's story about it all, looked very disapprovingly at my passport and the tourist visa and tourist card, before finally announcing that we didn't need to be too concerned about the tourist visa thing, that the tourist card was the important one. This one was dated 30 May and 90 days from then was the important thing. I therefore had until the end of August to get things sorted out, so don't panic at all. Of far more concern to him was the mention that I was working here, given I was here on a tourist visa. He didn't want any further mention of that made in his office!
So, panic subsided, we headed back to the office. I sent a message to our lawyers in Santiago explaining the situation and asking them to confirm the advice we had been given locally. Uh oh, it seems that advice doesn't match with their knowledge of the situation. Yep, I've definitely overstayed my tourist visa. I need to get my documents to Santiago ASAP and get an extension to the visa.
Given that my passport is my primary source of identification here, I was pretty nervous about being separated from it for the week (all going well), especially given my travel plans to Santiago on the bus next weekend, so it looks like I'll be making a quick trip to Santiago on Tuesday and Wednesday to sort things out.
Ah, chaos and mayhem. My job here is done!
A
My brothers birthday today. Hope you have a good one Boris!
A major bit of excitement today. I was having further thoughts about my visa and how long it was taking to get organised and all that sort of stuff, when I looked at my original tourist visa I got when I came to Chile in April. It had a validity of 90 days, which I well knew, but had in my head that it would last until August. Hmmm, a quick bit of mental maths made me realise that three months from 10 April is about 10 July. That'd be tomorrow. Crap. I need to leave the country, urgently. Looks like that weekend in Argentina that I'd mentioned (jokingly) a few times might become a reality within the next 24 hours. What to wear?
I headed to the local airline office with Lizette to book my tickets etc. Our friendly sales rep Emiliana looked up her calendar and counted out the number of days since 10 April and worked out that the 90 days actually expired yesterday. I have officially overstayed my visa. Crap, crap, crap. This means that I couldn't front up at the airport because as soon as I was to go through emigration, they'd pick up on that and at the least, issue me with a fine, which was not what I wanted. I also didn't want to highlight that I've overstayed given my work visa stuff is in process. Not a good look.
We were then directed towards a local government official who might be able to help out with what to do next. Before too long (only two referrals to someone else), we found a gentleman who looked disapprovingly at the gringo in front of him, listened patiently to Lizette's story about it all, looked very disapprovingly at my passport and the tourist visa and tourist card, before finally announcing that we didn't need to be too concerned about the tourist visa thing, that the tourist card was the important one. This one was dated 30 May and 90 days from then was the important thing. I therefore had until the end of August to get things sorted out, so don't panic at all. Of far more concern to him was the mention that I was working here, given I was here on a tourist visa. He didn't want any further mention of that made in his office!
So, panic subsided, we headed back to the office. I sent a message to our lawyers in Santiago explaining the situation and asking them to confirm the advice we had been given locally. Uh oh, it seems that advice doesn't match with their knowledge of the situation. Yep, I've definitely overstayed my tourist visa. I need to get my documents to Santiago ASAP and get an extension to the visa.
Given that my passport is my primary source of identification here, I was pretty nervous about being separated from it for the week (all going well), especially given my travel plans to Santiago on the bus next weekend, so it looks like I'll be making a quick trip to Santiago on Tuesday and Wednesday to sort things out.
Ah, chaos and mayhem. My job here is done!
A
7 July 2010
Hello all,
Not much to report from the middle of this week. Our JV partners MD is in town to catch up with everyone and review projects and plans, so most of my time has been dedicated to that with field trips to review potential new projects, followed by late night dinners with the team and the like. A mix of good fun and hard work. Very nice.
My major bit of interest (to me) is that I'm planning a short weekend break in Santiago, but getting there by trying out the local bus network. I'm feeling a bit nervous about it, particularly when I mention it to a few of the locals and they give me a quizzical look, and say something along the lines of "The bus? You? Oh!". Not sure what to take from that, but we'll see how it goes. I'll do an overnight trip on Friday night, arriving mid morning Saturday. That will give me a couple of hours of sun to see what the access to Santiago is like.
The rest of the day will be just being a tourist, exploring the old part of the city and seeing what I can see. It'll be an opportunity to reacquaint myself with a chai latte. Looking forward to that!
Regards to all.
A
Not much to report from the middle of this week. Our JV partners MD is in town to catch up with everyone and review projects and plans, so most of my time has been dedicated to that with field trips to review potential new projects, followed by late night dinners with the team and the like. A mix of good fun and hard work. Very nice.
My major bit of interest (to me) is that I'm planning a short weekend break in Santiago, but getting there by trying out the local bus network. I'm feeling a bit nervous about it, particularly when I mention it to a few of the locals and they give me a quizzical look, and say something along the lines of "The bus? You? Oh!". Not sure what to take from that, but we'll see how it goes. I'll do an overnight trip on Friday night, arriving mid morning Saturday. That will give me a couple of hours of sun to see what the access to Santiago is like.
The rest of the day will be just being a tourist, exploring the old part of the city and seeing what I can see. It'll be an opportunity to reacquaint myself with a chai latte. Looking forward to that!
Regards to all.
A
3 and 4 July 2010
After a long day in the mountains, lots of driving, and having a thumping headache, what would I do for the rest of the evening?
Why, head out for a night on the town, of course!
I'd had a couple of aspirin and a lie down for 2 hours, all while trying to rehydrate myself. By 10pm, I was feeling OK. Alexis and I had agreed to meet for a late dinner and drink and while wandering around to find somewhere to go, we headed into what I thought was a little coffee shop just underneath my apartment. It was a tiny little thing and I didn't hold out much hope for it, however we headed to the rear of the shop and there was a tiny little stairway heading up to a second floor.
Upstairs wasn't a lot bigger, but there were tables and chairs, a small bar, a TV screen and stereo pumping out tunes from a mix of 80's treasures (does anyone remember Criss Cross, or however they spelt it?), a bit of more modern rap type stuff, and numerous Lady Gaga things. It couldn't have contained much more than 20 or so people, but was pretty packed in, with one small table just big enough for the two of us. Perfect. The waitress brought the menu and promptly disappeared again, leaving us to unfold the very large and impressive looking menu, particularly when you considered the size of the venue.
As is usual in Chile, there weren't a great number of vegetarian options, so in the end, it pretty much looked like a vegetarian pizza would be the best option. Nope, the waitress said, we don't have them. OK, what next, the salad? Nope. The vegetarian sandwich (minus the ham)? Nope. In the end, we decided to share the most vego-friendly tablas (pretty much a tasting plate variety of things) option. Alexis then decides to order a beer. First two choices from the menu, no, we don't have those. Third choice comes through with a winner. Hooray! I order one of those small bottles of bubbly and surprisingly enough, nope, we don't have them either. OK, what about a normal Coke? Beaming smile, yes sir, we have Coke. I'll bring one straight away. It seems that the menu is very new and that they haven't got everything in yet. All of that other fancy stuff is for the future. We had to laugh!
Dessert looked like it might be another opportunity to try our luck with the menu. Do you have desserts we asked? Yes, definitely, she said. Can I have the apple pie? No, we don't have that. What about the chocolate mousse? Let me check. No, no chocolate mousse. Well, what do you have? Lemon meringue pie. OK, I'll have some of that. In the end, it wasn't so bad. Not the best I've ever had, but not the worst. If anyone is interested, you can find that at the Copiapo airport.
After that was finished, we caught a collectivo (one of the fixed route taxi's that run around towns in Chile - very cheap, usual fare is about A$1), which was my first time in one and I'm converted. Brilliant. We're off to the casino to meet up with Lizette and her husband, plus two of their friends. We arrive at midnight. How smart is this?
I think I'll have mentioned previously that many people in Chile smoke and many places like bars, coffee shops, some restaurants, and certainly the casino, allow smoking. The casino was remarkable. I guesstimate that at least 2 out of 3 people there were smoking. The extraction fans were working heroically to keep the room survivable for the few people like me that don't partake!
As it turned out, Lizette and Mauricio's friends couldn't come, as they had a sick child. So, the four of us adjourned to the Blackjack tables, the game of choice for Lizette and Mauricio. Alexis and I spent the first part of the evening just watching. I've mentioned previously that this isn't really my thing, but I am well aware of how to play Blackjack, so it was interesting to follow along in my mind. Alexis finally succumbed to the temptation (or drinks?) and joined in after a couple of hours. Me, I'm far too tight to give in. It was far more entertaining watching the games and the people wandering around. I adjourned from the tables at around 2.30AM for a late night snack (toasted sandwich) and a chat with Lizette, along with listening to the local band doing covers of various rock classics. They weren't too bad and even had the English lyrics reasonably correct!
Back to the tables and the evening wore on, drinks taking effect (as I'm sure the casino hopes) and for many of the participants, the bets were getting larger. All 3 of our gang ended up with reasonable sized winnings out of the evening, perhaps A$100 or so all up after drinks everything were taken into account, so a successful night for them.
I got back to my apartment just after 6AM. Latest night I've ever had I reckon, and absolutely exhausted. I realised how much I stank of cigarettes, so a quick shower, then off to bed.
Another entertaining day/night comes to a close.
A
Why, head out for a night on the town, of course!
I'd had a couple of aspirin and a lie down for 2 hours, all while trying to rehydrate myself. By 10pm, I was feeling OK. Alexis and I had agreed to meet for a late dinner and drink and while wandering around to find somewhere to go, we headed into what I thought was a little coffee shop just underneath my apartment. It was a tiny little thing and I didn't hold out much hope for it, however we headed to the rear of the shop and there was a tiny little stairway heading up to a second floor.
Upstairs wasn't a lot bigger, but there were tables and chairs, a small bar, a TV screen and stereo pumping out tunes from a mix of 80's treasures (does anyone remember Criss Cross, or however they spelt it?), a bit of more modern rap type stuff, and numerous Lady Gaga things. It couldn't have contained much more than 20 or so people, but was pretty packed in, with one small table just big enough for the two of us. Perfect. The waitress brought the menu and promptly disappeared again, leaving us to unfold the very large and impressive looking menu, particularly when you considered the size of the venue.
As is usual in Chile, there weren't a great number of vegetarian options, so in the end, it pretty much looked like a vegetarian pizza would be the best option. Nope, the waitress said, we don't have them. OK, what next, the salad? Nope. The vegetarian sandwich (minus the ham)? Nope. In the end, we decided to share the most vego-friendly tablas (pretty much a tasting plate variety of things) option. Alexis then decides to order a beer. First two choices from the menu, no, we don't have those. Third choice comes through with a winner. Hooray! I order one of those small bottles of bubbly and surprisingly enough, nope, we don't have them either. OK, what about a normal Coke? Beaming smile, yes sir, we have Coke. I'll bring one straight away. It seems that the menu is very new and that they haven't got everything in yet. All of that other fancy stuff is for the future. We had to laugh!
Dessert looked like it might be another opportunity to try our luck with the menu. Do you have desserts we asked? Yes, definitely, she said. Can I have the apple pie? No, we don't have that. What about the chocolate mousse? Let me check. No, no chocolate mousse. Well, what do you have? Lemon meringue pie. OK, I'll have some of that. In the end, it wasn't so bad. Not the best I've ever had, but not the worst. If anyone is interested, you can find that at the Copiapo airport.
After that was finished, we caught a collectivo (one of the fixed route taxi's that run around towns in Chile - very cheap, usual fare is about A$1), which was my first time in one and I'm converted. Brilliant. We're off to the casino to meet up with Lizette and her husband, plus two of their friends. We arrive at midnight. How smart is this?
I think I'll have mentioned previously that many people in Chile smoke and many places like bars, coffee shops, some restaurants, and certainly the casino, allow smoking. The casino was remarkable. I guesstimate that at least 2 out of 3 people there were smoking. The extraction fans were working heroically to keep the room survivable for the few people like me that don't partake!
As it turned out, Lizette and Mauricio's friends couldn't come, as they had a sick child. So, the four of us adjourned to the Blackjack tables, the game of choice for Lizette and Mauricio. Alexis and I spent the first part of the evening just watching. I've mentioned previously that this isn't really my thing, but I am well aware of how to play Blackjack, so it was interesting to follow along in my mind. Alexis finally succumbed to the temptation (or drinks?) and joined in after a couple of hours. Me, I'm far too tight to give in. It was far more entertaining watching the games and the people wandering around. I adjourned from the tables at around 2.30AM for a late night snack (toasted sandwich) and a chat with Lizette, along with listening to the local band doing covers of various rock classics. They weren't too bad and even had the English lyrics reasonably correct!
Back to the tables and the evening wore on, drinks taking effect (as I'm sure the casino hopes) and for many of the participants, the bets were getting larger. All 3 of our gang ended up with reasonable sized winnings out of the evening, perhaps A$100 or so all up after drinks everything were taken into account, so a successful night for them.
I got back to my apartment just after 6AM. Latest night I've ever had I reckon, and absolutely exhausted. I realised how much I stank of cigarettes, so a quick shower, then off to bed.
Another entertaining day/night comes to a close.
A
Thursday 8 July 2010
3 July 2010
At the end of the day yesterday, I did my usual "Can I use one of the cars for the weekend?" thing (in Espanol of course, read haltingly from my list of pre-prepared questions). "Sure," was the response, "what are your plans?". "Dunno,", I said, "I haven't really thought too much about it. Perhaps not much, but just having the use of the car would be good in case the weather on Sunday is nice. If that was the case, I might think about doing some of the road towards the Paso de San Francisco."
At that, Alexis' ears perked up, so we started talking about how far it was, and so on. Turns out that it was really only about 3 hours drive away - not too far at all. I suppose I should have realised that the border is never much more than about 3 hours away from anywhere in Chile, but it sounded so remote and high-altitude that I'd built it up in my mind as being much further.
For those who don't know much about it or have never heard of it, the Paso de San Francisco is one of the routes across the Andes into Argentina from Chile. The main north-south road through Chile, Route 5 (otherwise known as the Panamericana), has a slightly less important off-shoot from Copiapo, which heads off in the direction of a town called Diego de Almagro. Diego appears to be an important linking town in the vicinity of a number of important copper mines, the most famous of which is El Salvador (as far as I'm aware). The road to the Paso de Sanfrancisco heads to the east off this road maybe 30km or so (don't quote me on this number) to the north of Copiapo. It then winds its way through the Andes to Argentina via the Pass, which is at an altitude of around 4,700m above sea level.
The road to the Pass is also locally important because it provides access to the Parque Nacional Nevado Tres Cruces. The Parque is reputed to contain "...all of the rugged beauty and a fraction of the tourists of the more famous high-altitude parks further north." It contains flamingoes (in the right season), vicunas and guanacos (alpaca-like critters), coots of a number of varieties (which I presume are birds), Andean geese, gulls, and even the odd condor. There was also some mention of pumas in the Lonely Planet guide, which sound interesting and fine, as long as they are on the other side of the car window to me. Further, there are a number of lagoons and most importantly, the occasional volcano, one of which, Ojos del Salado, is the highest active volcano in the world. Unfortunately, it last erupted in 1956, so although the chances of not being fried any time soon are pretty good, but it also means that there aren't likely to be any good photo's of fiery eruptions any time soon.
Anyway, so we're chatting away about it, I'm thinking about everything I've read, and Alexis says yep, I'll come with you and we can go tomorrow. Nothing like striking while the iron is hot I guess, so I agreed and we made plans. Alexis would organise some food etc., the car, and off we go at 7AM. OK, now I started to think about how well Chilenos go at getting out of bed in the morning. I had visions of being the dumb bunny standing around in the cold at 7AM, waiting patiently for him to turn up, only to get a call at 7.30 saying that he was still in bed and couldn't be bothered going because he'd had a late night. Everyone has mates like that, don't they?
I therefore made arrangements for food and drink for myself, thinking there was a reasonable chance of being left waiting around. Ahh, I should've known to have faith in Alexis. He is nothing short of an excellent fieldy. He turned up just a few minutes after 7AM, ready and raring to go. Small issue - someone has hidden the keys to the car. No problem, he disappears off to get the spare set, and we're underway just a bit after 7.30AM, heading out of town, sunglasses on already, as the day is brilliantly clear. Zero clouds, zero fog. Perfecto!
The first part of the road is well familiar to me, being the same road we take to our northern project area. We turned off towards the Paso at the big sign and began to head east. Hmm, hadn't really thought about driving into the early morning sun. The biggest problem it presented was that it meant I couldn't take photo's of every spectacular vista that appeared as we rounded each corner on the road, which was probably a good thing, otherwise we'd never get there!
The road followed the valley floor for a while, then started to climb. The first narrow, winding climb was just stunning. Near vertical (and occasionally overhanging) rock walls above us, the narrow road seemed impossible to have been built, however there must have been a tiny ledge there to start with. Very exciting stuff in comparison to many years of flat WA roads. At many of the corners, there were signs suggesting that drivers should be tooting their horns to warn the oncoming traffic of your presence, as there wasn't going to be a lot of opportunity for passing each other!
After we made it through that climb, it was back onto a relatively flat (in comparison) plain, but we were definitely still climbing. We drove past a couple of old mining areas and past a relatively new one as well, pretty much as we started seeing the first patches of snow. They were clearly residual patches that were protected from the sun by the surrounding peaks - those parts of the ground that see no sun for some months of the year! A major surprise to me was the presence of vegetation. Mostly grasses, and realistically not that much, but nonetheless, substantially more than were seen on the lower hills and valleys (nil). There was clearly enough over the winter to provide enough water for the plants to survive reasonably happily enough.
After a brief play (and pose) with some snow, we continued on and found the next surprise - a herd of wild donkeys. Very cool, literally and figuratively! I'm sure they aren't the best critters to be around from an environmental perspective, but they are still a pretty interesting-looking animal.
Snow, snow, more snow, one spectacular vista after the next. Then, something different, as we came across the Salar de Maricunga. This is a saline lake and the size of it came as something of a surprise, being quite large and stretching off into the distance, rimmed of course by "the usual" jagged, snow-capped peaks. At the other end of it is the Laguna Santa Rose, which we couldn't see from where we were, but is reputed to have an abundance of flamingoes and other bird life. Hopefully we'll have the time to make it there - Alexis is certainly keen to go there.
The next little surprise came shortly after Alexis asked if I had my passport with me. Yep, I certainly do. I don't go anywhere without it as it is my primary form of identification here. Not that you'd be arrested or evicted from the country for not having it with you if asked, but it would certainly make life much easier to have it. The reason for asking became apparent shortly afterwards. We were to cross through a passport control office near the border with Argentina, and given its presence, that must mean we were getting closer (remember that we didn't have a map with us).
The buildings are a large series of sheds, big enough for semi-trailers to pass through without drama. There is a very large, cold office that you go to have your documents inspected, stamped, recorded and all of the usual jazz you might expect when going from one country to another (Europe being the exception in my memory). In the waiting room, which is big enough to hold the passengers from a large bus (at least) plus assorted others, there was a very lonely-looking table tennis table, complete with paddles and a ball. Resisting the urge for a quick game, Alexis took care of the administrative formalities, which involved a chat about our route and the fact that we weren't going to Argentina after all, so could we just carry on? No worries, or the Spanish equivalent, was the answer, but go and chat to the Carabiniero's and let them know your route, just in case something goes amiss.
The two lonely Carabiniero's were stationed in a small dorm-like building not far behind the passport control building. As we drove up and got out of the car, one of them appeared in the doorway, had a quick chat with Alexis and then the both of them ducked inside and shut the door. I thought I'd better follow and arrived inside to be greeted by two very friendly (in a good way) lads who were very keen to see some outsiders and chatted with Alexis like he was a long-lost mate. The football was on, the heater was cranking, and it seemed like a not so bad place to be stationed. I didn't catch what their "rotations" were, but it was a pretty peaceful (if cold) place to be stationed for a little while. One wonders how long before cabin fever might take hold, but maybe it wouldn't be so bad for a little while? It isn't like they have much of an option to get out and about. They were stationed there without a car!
Despite offers to stay and watch the football, and no doubt provide a variation to the usual topics of discussion between the two guys, we headed off again. More and more snow followed, the peaks were getting bigger and bigger, the vistas couldn't help but be more spectacular. Alexis knew of an area containing a "cascade" (Cascados Rio Lama), which we stopped at for a view of the little gully being eroded out by water from the melting snow. As we turned off the road to have a look, lo and behold, guanacos! A small herd/flock (whatever their collective term is) were having a drink in the icy cold river, but took flight at our arrival, darting up the very steep bank. Very nimble critters, those guanacos. To Alexis' pleasure (apparently), there were a number of geese-like birds and some form of ducks in there as well.
We had a little walk along the edge of the gully, maybe 200m (downhill) from the car. Despite the sun, I'd been a little bit too bold in getting out of the car still only wearing a t-shirt. The breeze was decidely chilling, explaining very clearly why there was (by now) plenty of snow left and not always in the areas that were in full shade. I'd been told about how hard it was to work at high-altitudes, that you had to move slowly and steadily, otherwise you use up more oxygen than is available to take in, and you end up not feeling so well. Neither of us had any real idea of our altitude, thinking perhaps 3,000m or so. Turns out we were probably a bit higher than that, as by the time I got to the car, I was well out of breath, despite not rushing.
After that bit of tooling around, we headed off again. As we topped the next little rise, the most magnificent view so far was right there in front of us. We'd had hints that they were coming, just being able to see the very tops of them, but there they were, the Cerros Tres Cruces. Three very prominent peaks, all lined up in a row. That of course meant stopping again, so out we get, snapping away, just taking in the view. Glorious. Alexis managed to find a bit of ice/snow that just needed a head and minor decorations to turn into a snowman! I found the patterns in the melting ice/snow on the edge of the road just as fascinating as the view - it's funny what grabs your attention at times...
Onwards we go towards the next views, more and more snow. We crossed a large white plain - the first time snow has covered almost the entire visible ground surface. It's hard to know which way to look, the views are so amazing. Jagged, rocky peaks draped with bits and pieces of snow, more rounded hills, hills that look like they MUST be volcanoes, but no signs to indicate that they are. Both of us are by now wondering which of the hills is Ojos del Salado, but we eventually convince ourselves that it is further to the southeast. Neither of us has been smart enough to bring a map! Doh!
Continuing on, we round another corner for another view of a broad plain surrounded by mountains, and there's a bloody drill rig, parked in the middle of the plain, drilling away. As we get closer, we can see that there is an enormous amount of water gushing out the top of the rig and the cyclone. Alexis was quite excited, as he has a good friend who works as a fieldy for Barrick somewhere in this part of the world, so we decided to head towards the rig and have a look, in the hope that this guy is there. So, we drive up to about 50m from the rig. No-one is showing any great concern at our presence, so we get out of the car, wander around to have a better view from the side (still a good safe distance from everything). Eventually the geo (we think) comes over to see what on earth these two idiots are up to. In terrible Spanish, I introduced myself as an Australian geo, new to Copiapo, heading up to the Paso and was very excited to see a drill rig working up here. The three of us ended up chatting about what was going on. Then another guy wanders over. The geo rapidly winds up our conversation and heads back to whatever sea container he was hiding in, leaving us in the hands of someone who is clearly much more important. So, same spiel. Andrew the Aussie geo, new in Copiapo, heading off to see the mountains and excited to see a drill rig working here. Didn't that go down a treat! We got the full explanation as to what was going on, drill rig capacity, air compressor capacity, drillhole depths, diameters, details of the casing and all of the jazz. All very interesting - they were drilling 300m deep holes for water!
Onwards and upwards after all of that. What could top everything so far. What about a lagoon?
Laguna Verde is found at just over 4,300m is described as being the colour of liquid kryptonite, rather than the green suggested by the name. Not being really sure what colour to expect (I don't recall seeing "liquid kryptonite" in any container of Derwent Artists that I've ever seen), but thinking that at some point in time the Laguna must have been a greenish kind of colour, I was looking forward to seeing what it might turn out to be. It didn't disappoint. To my eyes, liquid kryptonite is a colour that is somewhere between blue and green, a sort of aquamarine/turquoise, but extraordinarily vivid. The backdrop of snow-covered dark coloured rocks was just awesome. So, yet another stop to soak up the views, pee in the snow and all of that sort of stuff.
As we drove on, we found a little turn-off that led to some small thermal springs on the edge of the lake, along with a small (locked) refugio (refuge cabin). Adjacent to the springs were a collection of hemispherical walls about 50-70cm high, all facing in the same direction. This is the campground. Perhaps a bit chilly for winter, and clearly there is a wind problem! Dipping my fingers in the lake to check the temperature was (not surprisingly) enough to immediately remove thoughts of going for a quick dip. "My, that's a bit chilly!" is the nicest way to describe how cold it was. The salt content means that the water was not frozen, despite almost certainly being below 0 degrees C. Now the race was on to get my fingers into the thermal pools to warm them up, and fortunately they were only a few metres away. The temperature of these was blissful. Easy to imagine sitting in there and giggling about how cold it was out of the water. Small problem in getting out, dried and changed before the cold hit you, but nothing that couldn't be overcome with a bit of rapid movement!
We continued east for the remaining 20 or so kilometres until there it was, Argentina. An auspicious day perhaps, as Argentina were playing Germany in the World Cup? No radio reception or mobile coverage here, so no way of checking. All we knew was from the stop with the Carabiniero's was the Germany were 1-0 up, nearing half time.
The border is marked by a big arched metal frame, signs on either side indicating that it is the Pass, showing the altitude, which is just over 4,700m. There are a number of monuments with plaques and all of that sort of stuff, none of which are in English. As a brief side-track, this is a pet subject of mine in Australia. Think of every tourist location you've been to and wonder about how many of them cope for foreign tourists. Travel overseas and marvel that most places, but certainly not all, consider tourists from overseas by at least having some signs in English). The Argentinian passport control is some distance down the road into the country, so feeling a little bit of a naughty thrill, we drove into Argentina, did a u-turn, and then headed back down the road to safety of Chile.
Same major scenery points as on the way, but of course they all look very different when viewed from the opposite direction. We stopped again at Laguna Verde, this time for lunch. We sheltered out of the wind in an old Carabiniero's "refugio" that was dug into a small hill on the edge of the road. Cold, but not breezy. Because both of us brought enough food for the other, it turned into a bit of a feast, although Alexis advised against eating too much at altitude, because it was likely to make you sick. I was hungry enough to ignore that advice, and wondered if it was wise...
Heading back was my turn to drive. At the point where we saw the drill rig, on the other side of the road was another refugio, this one maintained by the University of Atacama(?). Two story, VERY basic, but at least a place to stay that is out of the wind. It may even achieve some level of warmth, although perhaps that is relative - just not as cold as outside! The view from here was again pretty awesome, straight up the "valley" to Ojos del Salado. Great location.
As we approached the Salar de Maricunga, the turn to the Laguna Santa Rosa beckoned. Hmmm. Late in the day, less than half a tank of fuel left, and unknown route. The choice is obvious. Of course we'll go that way.
The track is rough and gets rougher and becomes more indistinct as you head further south(?). Of all things, in the distance, we could see a grader making a cross-country run towards the track further up in the hills that we could see. Saving himself a kilometre or two of the bumpy track I guess. Certainly none of the "stick to existing tracks" habit that becomes built into you when working in WA. Here in the desert, if you want to go somewhere, you just drive to it.
Eventually, we got to the Lagoon and yet another refugio, this time in much better condition, although still not necessarily terribly inviting. At least the building itself was newer. By this stage of the day, I'd started to develop a thumping headache whenever I was walking around outside the car. Almost certainly it was a combination of the altitude, the walking around, probably a bit of dehydration (despite my best efforts to keep my fluid levels up), and perhaps a bit of that lunch time feast coming back to haunt me? Nah, I'm going with the altitude and dehydration combo!
The Lagoon is supposed to be the home of abundant bird life. There were signs featuring the many varieties of birds, posters in the refugio showing much the same thing, but outside on the lake, where it matters, there were four lost and lonely birds, wandering around on the ice, no doubt looking for some water to wade in. At our arrival, they made themselves scarce. Beautiful views of the mountains in the distance again, so certainly the lack of bird life was nothing to be disappointed about. We'll just have to come back in summer! At this point, Alexis decided to prove that fieldies can in fact walk on water, and that it is barely cheating at all if it happens to be frozen! It was very funny at the time, but perhaps you need to be there...
The drive back to Copiapo took a fair while and was covered mostly very late in the day and in the dark. We also managed to find other traffic to follow on the dusty dirt roads, which was a remarkable thing, because the only people we had seen out and about in the course of the rest of the day were the drillers. We had seen no-one actually driving on the roads once we got up into the mountains.
After a good few kilometres of following our friend the grader (and his mate in a 4WD who insisted on driving in the middle of the road whenever a passing opportunity presented itself), we finally snuck past and thought that we'd be off and enjoying the narrow valleys in the dying light. No such luck. Another few kilometres revealed more dust coming our way. Before too long, we encounted two haul trucks from a local mine heading down the road in the same direction as us. Given that they were slightly wider than the actual road, passing opportunities were at zero. We just had to wait until they saw us and moved over to let us pass (something that does not appear to happen in Chile), or they arrived at their destination. In the end, we had to wait until they arrived at their destination.
Well, that was my first day in the Andes (proper). Awesome, and really looking forward to doing it again, or looking at other parts. I hope you enjoyed the ride and the pictures.
For those of you who have the option (or want to install it), try looking at Google Earth for that part of the world. There should be an option to turn on "panorama photos" or "scenery photos" or something like that. Once you are zoomed in to the right scale, they become apparent. There are some fantastic photo's in there, and along with mine, give a pretty good idea of what it is like.
Regards to all,
A
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