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
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