25 August 2010

To top off the good things of the last few days, my package of stuff from Australia has arrived today, allegedly containing all of my new credit cards and other documents to replace those I lost. It turns out that my personal credit card isn't amongst the stuff that has arrived, which is a bit of a bummer, however it seems that it has been sent directly here to Copiapo, and by the end of the day, it is in my mailbox as well.

Just need to get my passport now, and I'm back in business...

And by the way, there was another little earthquake this morning! I was lying in bed, thinking about getting up, and things began to sway gently, the wardrobe doors rattled and the bed swayed gently. Again, it was only brief, lasting perhaps 15 seconds or so. I turned to Big Ted and asked if the earth had moved for him too? He was far too sensible to respond to such an obvious joke... It turns out it was close to Copiapo!

Byeee!

A

24 August 2010

Oh happy days! When I got back to Copiapo yesterday, I got a message to confirm that my belongings will absolutely, definitely be arriving in town tomorrow morning. It has now been more than three months without them and I'm hanging out to get everything, most particularly some new clothes to wear. Three months living from a suitcase isn't all sunshine and light!

I'm promised that the delivery men will be there at 10AM, which is just perfect. It comes as a slight surprise to get a call from the security chap from downstairs just after 9AM to say that they are here, but I'm not about to argue and tell them to come back at 10!

With excellent efficiency, everything is in my apartment and the hombre is gone by 10AM. Looks like I'll have a few interesting days ahead as I get a surprise when I open all of my boxes and find those things I've been missing. One of the things I want most urgently is my sharpener for the kitchen knives, which are hopelessly blunt. Yes, I'm strange. Who is really surprised by that?

A

22 August 2010

I've had another sleep-in this morning, which is great, however my total hours of sleep still haven't increased. I wake up later, but am also going to bed late - not the smartest thing to do! The main thing I guess is for my body to wake up when it wants, rather than at the insistent beeping of the alarm, as happens for most of us during the working week!

Given that I've seen most of the historical buildings that I wanted to see yesterday, today will be about wandering mostly aimlessly and seeing what I come up with. My one "mission" is to find some kind of spice grinder, so I'll be heading for some shops to see what I can find. I don't know much about them, other than that they exist, so it will be interesting. I've seen it written that a coffee grinder is a good alternative?

My shopping target is the enormous mall that is Parque Arauco. Three extensive floors of expensive shops to wander amongst the jostling crowds. It shouldn't actually be too bad if I get there before mid-day, but mid afternoon is absolutely flat-out, so hopefully I can get away by then.

The best way to get there (via public transport) from my hotel is via the bus, as the nearest train station is about a 20 minute walk. My experience of the bus system in Santiago is relatively limited, but it appears to be similar to the trains - frequent, on-time and fairly clean, although it is well supported by the locals and the buses are therefore usually packed with commuters. The buses are a bit older than you'd really like to see, belching black clouds of unburnt diesel as they accelerate, but it is still better than having all of those people travelling by car. The roads are busy enough as it is! Today, being Sunday, and in the morning, it should be OK.

My first step in trying to find a spice grinder meets with success within 5 metres of entering the first shop. There, in front of me, is a spice grinder. Manufactured in Germany, sure, it's a nice looking gadget, but it doesn't look fundamentally different than a garden variety pepper mill, and at about A$60, it's a bit over what I was looking at paying, particularly when I find a pepper mill at about half the price! The next step is to see if they have any coffee grinders to go with all of the coffee machines in the shop. I decide to try my Spanglish on one of the unsuspecting assistants in the store who is foolish enough to offer some assistance. It rapidly goes badly. Not only do I immediately forget all of my practiced lines, but I can't remember the words for coffee beans (granos de cafe), which would be particularly helpful. Charades doesn't help, and we both look at each other with a mixture of bemusement and frustration. I give up for the moment and walk away to compose myself and consult my phrasebook...

The next shop is an expensive kitchen items shop. Lo and behold, there in the front window is an ELECTRIC coffee grinder. Oh yeah! Small problem, it is about A$60 as well and despite being powered, still seems a luxury for something that, realistically, won't be used too often. I continue onwards.

The third store of homewares brings success. One of the obvious ways of mixing spices is via a mortar and pestle. My apartment has a crappy wooden one that is only effective up to a point, but here I find an adequate ceramic (or similar) one for the equivalent of about A$4. Bargain. Along with that, I manage to find some other furnishings that I've been looking for but have seemed to be in short supply in Chile, so I'm extremely pleased with myself!

In order to celebrate, I head off to buy some wine to take back to Copiapo. While Chile does some excellent reds, and I haven't made it to the whites just yet, they don't seem to do fortifieds (e.g. the muscats or tokays from Rutherglen, nor even vintage port) or decent dessert wines. There are the occasional late-harvest things that are suitably sweet, but nothing like the botrytis-affected styles from the Murrimbidgee Basin. It's hard to believe that at some point in the country, they don't have suitable conditions for growing the grapes for these styles, so perhaps it is more about there not being a market for them? Anyway, I manage to find a couple that I have yet to try and buy them. One of them even claims some botrytis influence, so here's hoping. Alternatively, I'll just have to bring some back with me when I'm next visiting Oz!

Further celebrations are aided by a couple of empanadas. These are a Chilean fast food - they come in a multitude of varieties, but the ones I have chosen are basically cheese filled pastries that are baked in an oven. Other places are known to deep fry them (not the best), others do them over a charcoal BBQ. For me, they're a curiosity, but the locals seem to be fairly polarised by them (love or hate them, with not much in between).

Next stop is one of the little plaza's on the immediate outside of the mall. I've been able to hear some music for a little while now and am very pleased to find a live jazz band playing for the passing hordes. I take a seat out of the way and settle down to watch the passing crowds and enjoy the music - they are very good. Parents stop with their kids to have a little dance, and the whole scene brings a smile to many people's faces. I lose track of time and before I know it, I've been sitting there for over an hour.

I wander off towards the bus stop and at the next plaza, find a string quartet playing as well. Talk about being spoilt for choice! They're playing out the front of the ubiquitous Starbucks, so I grab chai latte, but this unfortunately coincides with the end of the quartet's session, so it's "home" I go via a combination of bus and train. Again, I can't help but marvel at the trains with my 2 minute wait at the station!

After I drop my shopping at the hotel, I head back to Providencia for a walk. While doing this, I notice that there is a large amount of tooting of car horns, and become aware of all of the people driving around with Chilean flags hanging out of the car windows. I'm even on the end of some waving and special tooting just for me! Something is obviously going on that is inspiring the fervent behaviour, but I'm not too sure about it. I idly wonder if it is something to do with football, which seems most likely, however there is a passing thought that it might be something to do with the miners.

During my walk, I manage to run into Ivan again. It seems he is everywhere in Providencia! We spend maybe 15 minutes chatting again before I manage to escape. Fascinating guy, in the mould of "able to sell ice to eskimos" and/or talk the leg off a chair!

Back at the hotel, I flick on the TV to see what's on before heading out for dinner and as I flick past one of the news channels, there are wild celebrations going on. It seems that at long last, they've finally managed to get a drillhole into the refuge chamber at the Mina San Jose and have got a note back from the guys down there. Amazingly, all are alive. That has obviously sparked wild celebrations at the mine site, but also in Santiago, thus explaining the tooting and flags from the cars. I share the excitement of the Chileans - it's hard not to! It will be interesting to see what it turns out to mean for the trapped "mineros"!

Dinner is a pizza at the place recommended in my Lonely Planet book, which I saw yesterday. No need to line up tonight, however I get one of the last available tables. As expected from the fact it was so busy, the pizza is excellent! A good glass of red, and I'm in a pretty content place, ready for bed and the flight back to Copiapo tomorrow.

Chao chao!

A

21 August 2010

My hotel room stinks! I understand why all of the windows were wide open when I arrived - the room has been populated by a smoker, or series of smokers, in the not-too-distant past and when I woke up this morning, the smell was very prominent! Not so great and now that I've been in it for the better part of a day, the smell is at least subtly through my clothes. Bummer. I don't think I'll be closing the windows completely again!

Despite the fumes, I've managed to sleep fairly well last night with a big sleep-in this morning. Breakfast is included in the room rate, and although it is not really an exciting choice, it is sufficient. The TV in the corner of the room is attracting a fair bit of attention from the few wait-staff and scattered other guests. Coverage is of the trapped miners near Copiapo and there seems to be a bit of despondency creeping in to the rescue efforts. There is certainly angst amongst family members at it having been so long since the collapse in the "decline" that has blocked off access. Not that I am certain as to what is being said, but it appears that there is a fair bit of blame being thrown around as to why things aren't going faster. It's not a good sign.

I haven't written about this because I've only seen snippets of the coverage due to my not watching much television these days, so I was far from up to date on anything that was going on. Mum was also saying that there wasn't much in the way of coverage back in Australia. It also hasn't seemed likely that much positive will come out of the whole event, despite the faith being shown by the locals in the chances of the survival of the group. It is fair to say that by now, their faith is being tested in a fairly significant way! Personally, I don't hold out any hope for their survival, and haven't done so for the last week. My memory of underground refuge chambers is that they don't hold that much food and water for 33 people to survive on for a couple of weeks. Perhaps I'm wrong, although my scepticism about the chances of a successful end to the whole episode is quietly shared by a number of people who've asked for my opinion on the matter (as if I'm some kind of expert...).

Having doubled the amount that I knew about what was going, I headed off into the wilds of Santiago. The Museo de Bellas Artes is a gloriously beautiful building that I'd seen on my first day in Santiago back in April. On that occasion, I'd stumbled across it while walking between the Cerro Santa Lucia park and the Parque Forrestal. There was a man standing across the road from it on that occasion, doing who knows what with his long wooden sword. It was all very peculiar - me looking at him (as discretely as possible, because after all, he had a sword), him warily watching me walking around. In the end, I got a sly photo of him and didn't get stabbed. One-nil to the gringo...

In April, I didn't really know what the Museo was about and didn't have a lot of time to check it out, but by now I understood that it is the fine art museum. Excellent, so I thought. Having wandered around the outside of the building, it became apparent that the damage sustained from the big earthquake earlier in the year was not yet completely repaired. Some areas still had "danger tape" around them and there was plenty of evidence of cracked and broken materials.

Entrance was cheap, only a few thousand pesos (perhaps A$5 or so) and from the ticket stand, the building turned out to almost have a small plaza inside it, covered over by a glass/perspex roof. It brought back memories of the Louvre, although at a much smaller scale.

There was a photographic exhibition by students from around Chile, with a theme of "their neighbourhood" and it was fascinating to see what catches the eye of kids in their lives. It certainly gave an interesting insight on what it is possible to see if you are prepared to look around and consider things from a different perspective!

An art class was also busy sketching the various sculpture works around this display area, which made for interesting viewing - both the sculpture and the attitudes/postures/concentration of the students.

The other side of the room featured drawings by kids of primary school age of their neighbourhoods (I think), and presume it was for those who might not have access to a camera, or weren't trusted with one?

Upstairs was where the damage from the earthquake became apparent, with the presence of significant amounts of danger tape in front of most of the galleries, which was a shame. The one main gallery open upstairs featured an eclectic mix of pieces, ranging from pictures from the 1700's through to very modern "things" which just weren't my scene... Some of the portraiture was just beautifully done and well worth the price of entrance. As was usual around Santiago at the moment, one is never too far away from the sweet tones of Americans, chatting to each other quietly and discretely (not). Here's some breaking news - just because the locals don't speak the same language, doesn't mean that your voices don't carry through the entire building and that you aren't pissing people off!

A basement gallery of more modern sculpture completes the currently available viewing in the museum. In all, very recommended given you don't come with too high expectations given by the extremely grand exterior of the building. Perhaps when the damage is repaired and more is open to the public it will be even better!

Outside the museum, I'm treated to a juggling display from some buskers at the traffic lights. This is very common here, with variably talented performers given short demonstrations of their skills in the hope of snaring some loose change from passing drivers. I have to say it makes a nice change from the offers of windscreen washing in Perth! The locals are quite generous with giving a few coins to the kids each time they pass through - it would be rare for the performers not to get anything from one set of lights. All visitors to Santiago would therefore be well advised to keep a collection of coins handy when driving through the city!

Next, the Plaza de Armas, which I have visited previously, but this time I'm there during opening hours of another museum, the Mueseo Historico Nacional, at the moment featuring (as you might expect from something entitled the National History Museum), a display of fans. It was tucked off into a little wing of the building, next to the "old weapons" display. Curious, although it must be a somewhat famous exhibition, judging by the big sign at the front of the museum...

The rest of the museum was filled with the usual art and artefacts that one would expect in a national history museum. All excellent again, particularly the very grand (large) works on canvas' up to perhaps 4m high. It is actually possible that I was supposed to pay to get into this one, however perhaps there is some small bonus in being a vague-looking gringo and just wandering blithely in through the entrance and looking like I own the place!

After that, I spent the rest of the afternoon wandering the Centro area of the city, which appears to be where the majority of the big old buildings are. I stumbled across the "Palacio de Gobierno - La Moneda" (beautiful, not to mention well guarded), set next to a small park complete with statues of many/all of the ex-Presidents. Next to that was the "Intendencia Metropolitana", whatever that contains, but seeing as neither building looked like it was particularly open for inspection by tourists, I contented myself with the outside and the spring weather. Random wandering through the arcades (how many jewellery, baby clothing and bra shops is it necessary for one city to have?), followed by another train ride, took up the rest of another brilliant day.

On the way back to the hotel, I take a little detour through Providencia to check out some potential restaurants for dinner. I discover "themed restaurant" central, the most entertaining of which are the American paddle steamer and the Bedrock (i.e. Flintstones). Out the front of the paddle steamer, I am "accosted" by one of the touts chasing up customers by spruiking about the restaurant they work for. "Ivan", which may or may not have been his real name, started out in Spanish, but quickly figured out I had no idea what he was on about, and switched to very good English. Despite thinking that it might not be such a good idea to stop and chat, I found myself standing on a street corner for the next half hour listening to Ivan about life in Santiago, his life (which involved 20 years growing up in America, hence the good English), followed by the last 10 years here in Santiago. He turned out to be surprisingly good value, despite being a classic "salesman" type personality. He talked nearly continuously, his eyes constantly darting back and forth looking at the people walking past, always on the lookout for the next opportunity to spruik to passers-by. He claimed to know just about all of the locals in the area and when I said that I was looking for somewhere for dinner, made me promise to come back later in the evening for a further chat. His major incentive appeared to be the opportunity to speak English - something I don't understand as being as attractive as it seems to be for some here, but obviously is.

Back at my hotel, it was siesta time (they are NOT nanna-naps here - that description is just not understood) and preparation for the night. My hotel is in the (alleged) middle of the restaurant area, so I was looking forward to a night out people-watching. As I've mentioned before, the rumour is that people don't come out until quite late, and seeing as I still hadn't been able to stay up late enough to see it, I was interested to have a look at what goes on.

So, 8.30PM, and I head back to see crazy Ivan and his mates in the Louisiana paddle boat restaurant thingie. OK. I'm the only customer inside the restaurant/bar. This has some advantages, the most significant being that the place does not reek of cigarette smoke! I obviously have my choice of where to sit, and ultimately decide to take a seat where I can watch the goings-on outside in the street. Ivan has disappeared, hopefully to get some sleep, as apparently he has been up for pretty much the last two days and was feeling a bit weary. His place out the front of the building has been taken by a Johnny Depp-like Pirates of the Carribean character, who appears to be scaring off potential customers, rather than bringing them in. It is all very entertaining to watch them doing a big loop around him, and him following them down the street trying to lure them in.

Ultimately, as had been predicted by others (and not believed by me), 11PM ticked past, and suddenly, the place began to fill. I left at about 11.45PM and there were people everywhere. Restaurants busy and clubs with big queue's out the front, and there was Ivan, back again for another go. He manages to spot me and homes in. We spend the next 30 minutes or so chatting again and by that stage, I'm ready for bed. Despite his protestations about it being too early and the fact that there are many beautiful girls that he knows just a short walk away in the surrounding buildings, I head back to my hotel, dodging the hookers along the way. Crossing the street that separates Las Condes from Providencia, it is remarkable that everything is suddenly almost quiet - everyone is either asleep, or they've all headed off to Providencia!

Goodnight.

A

20 August 2010

Hello again,

I'm off to Santiago "again" this afternoon. It feels like I'm travelling there a lot in recent times, although it isn't something I've really planned to be doing, but rather has just come about through a combination of circumstances. This trip is a rescheduled personal trip, following the clash of a work and personal trip two weeks ago. I made a bit of a spur-of-the-moment kind of decision to reschedule the flight for only two weeks later, and now it has a bit of a feeling like being FIFO again, where you seem to be often on a plane...

Still, there are plenty of worse places to be than Santiago. It has a feel about it that I enjoy and with plenty of new things still to explore, I'm looking forward to it. I plan to visit a few museums and that sort of thing, and also hope to find my way to see some live music, eat some different food, perhaps taste a new wine or two...

My travel plans would have been considerably influenced by my lost travel documents, but their return has made things so much easier, even though they are cancelled (but sssshhhhh, don't tell anyone!). Travel as a foreigner requires showing your passport at check-in and that bit where you have your ticket checked and you head off and actually board the plane. It is fortunate that the number isn't actually recorded anywhere!

At check-in, as usual, I'm eternally hopeful that I'll score a seat on the Andes side of the plane, and a window seat at that. Feeling very positive about my chances of that, I've brought my big camera as hand luggage so that I can get some better quality snaps than I can manage with the little camera, although as ever, taking any photos out of a plane window the quality is always compromised.

As luck would have it, I am allocated seat 21L. I do some mental maths and come to the conclusion that I am definitely going to be sitting in a window seat, but on the Pacific Ocean side of the plane. I also reckon that row 21 must be towards the rear of the plane, which might seem a bit crappy, but is actually quite good, as the wings and engines aren't in the way of the scenery.

On boarding the plane (through the back entrance), I find that row 21 is the very last row in the plane. If you consider the first seat in the plane to be A1, then 21L is the last! Quite remarkably, the engines of the plane burst into life, everyone is seated and we leave the apron exactly on time. Everything seems to have gone very efficiently today.

The flight highlights of the Pacific Coast are largely obscured under cloud, as per usual. The massive cloud bank still forms a remarkable site as it abuts the barrier of the coastal mountains. Wispy bits of cloud seem to be spilling over the top of the barrier, and then all of the water vapour evaporates immediately, leaving the land to the east in bright sunshine. I still find it a remarkable sight.

Santiago airport also provides a welcome surprise, with both items of my luggage being in my hands before the majority of the other passengers, as opposed to usually being last. Exiting the airport is again amazingly easy. I don't have a lot of experience at other airports around the world, but if any of them are easier, I'd be impressed to see it. Potentially it is simply to do with the arrival of the flight being at an odd time? Regardless, within 5 minutes of me collecting my bag, I'm in a taxi and we're driving through the toll gates out of the airport.

As opposed to previously, I'm trying a new hotel in Las Condes called the Director Hotel Suites. The website presents a lovely view of the hotel and the price is pretty reasonable, the location is within a few hundred metres of my favourite wine shop, it's near a subway station, and there are plenty of restaurants nearby. Perfect?

My room is OK (not great, not terrible), mostly due to some "older" decor. The windows are all open to let in some fresh air, which is good, although there is a hint of cigarette smoke, which is a bit of a bummer. Damn these Chileans and their smoking! I close the windows and head out into the afternoon, with a mission of trying to locate the Australian Consulate, which is alleged to be nearby.

A stroll along Av. Isadore Goyenchea locates the Consulate. I think that most of us would agree that the words "Australian" and "subtle" aren't often used in the same sentence by foreigners describing the majority of us, and the Consulate lives up to that. Any doubts about whether I had the right address were erased by the very large Australian flag flying on the corner outside the building. While my heart swells a bit with patriotic pride at seeing the flat flying proudly in another part of the world, I can't help but wondering what the majority of the locals think about such a prominent display, given their own patriotism towards Chile?

I had dinner at a German restaurant just around the corner from the hotel. Two bits of interest from that - one was an excellent chocolate mousse with vanilla ice-cream, and the other was the view from my table (the place that they put children who don't eat their vegetables!).

Andrew

16 August 2010

Hello all,

Something good happened to me today at the hands of several of the local Chileno's. I have to admit that it came as quite a surprise, as I have been developing the idea that they are generally a quite rude bunch, particularly to strangers, and more so to foreigners. I think I wrote about the pushing in and gentle jostling that occurred when I braved the bus to Santiago. So, a random act of kindness was out of the blue, and has left me feeling a lot more positive about my 'hosts'!

Anyone who has been following my adventures/mishaps for the last week, rather than someone who has randomly selected this page to see what this is about, will know that my wallet went missing after my return from Santiago last Monday morning. After cancelling all of the cards and other important documents, reporting it to the police, and then a week having passed, I'd pretty much given up any hope of seeing it again, despite the positive outlook of a couple of the others in the office. Even for them, a week having passed, there was no chance of it turning up now. Well, surprise, surprise, surprise! Today, early in the afternoon, it was returned, courtesy of a supermarket a couple of kilometres from here. It seems that one of the employees found it somewhere in the shop and handed it in. Every single one of my documents, cards etc were present. Every single note of currency was gone (not surprising).

I had a very excited phone call on my mobile in Spanish and could barely follow any of it, so I had to enlist Alexis for help in decoding. After a minute or two, from which I suspected it might be about the wallet, he got off the phone and had a bit of a chuckle and announced that someone has it and we should go and get it pronto! So, off we went to the big UniMarc supermarket near the casino. It's a good few kilometres from where I'd lost it, so driving was a necessity. We eventually found the right person and he handed it over, beaming very proudly, which was great, along with much handshaking, and me beaming right back at him. In hindsight, I should've asked for a photo opportunity with him and the collection of other staff hanging around, but had completely forgotten to bring my camera (again).

I was feeling so positive about it all when we left their office that I thought I'd buy a celebratory ice cream (vanilla, of course) at the little dispensory of artisanal ice creams at the corner of the shop. My positiveness was short-lived, as they didn't have vanilla. What sort of ice cream shop doesn't stock truck-loads of vanilla ice cream!? Actually, it isn't all that uncommon - the local ice cream shop underneath my apartment also had to rummage through their stock one afternoon when the smiling gringo arrived and announced he wanted one! They eventually found one on that occasion, and the chica who works there now knows me by sight and (I think) asks me whether I'll be having my "usual". Anyway, today it wasn't to be.

Back to the office, I'm still quite excited about having it back, and jabber at Alexis all the way back in my mix of Spanish and English. I can't help but keep opening the wallet and going through all of the pockets and confirming everything is there, which it is (except the cash).

When I get back to the office, I take the time to explain everything to Lizette, then wander off to my desk, still feeling quite pleased with myself. Because I’ve had to cancel all of the cards and renew things, once we get back to the office, I begin cutting up those cancelled things, but at least I have the wallet itself, my motorbike papers, my drivers licences and my health care cards. All in all, a very big win.

And it all came on the day that I’ve had my first mini-migraine here in Chile!

At about this time, I went to get my new wallet and transfer all of the remaining bits and pieces over to it, however there is a very large problem - I can't find the damn thing! I go through the pockets of my jacket twice, beat my head against the office partition wall, and go through the jacket again. Definitely not there! After much wailing and gnashing of teeth, I went back to the car downstairs, but it wasn’t there. I went back to the last place I had it (the ice cream shop), but nothing. It was a 50m walk from there to the car, and I've lost the new wallet along the way. By this time, I'm having a major stress and screaming at myself for being such a peanut, and my headache is pounding.

"I'm a donkey on the edge!!" (for anyone who paid attention in Shrek).

At least I can see properly, which is an improvement on most of the morning! I tell myself to calm down or I'll have a stroke, and manage to reduce my blood pressure through some deep breathing.

I got back to the office, feeling rather dejected at my stupidity. Everyone was in the process of doing a runner for the afternoon – presumably they didn’t want to see me in a bad mood? Anyway, I walk back into the office, and there it is, sitting on Lizette’s desk. I had looked there when I walked out and didn't see it - I secretly think that she had hidden it on me to watch the fun...

Suddenly, I just feel tired...

With a few hours more to take it all in, I can at least smile at myself now!

Hope all of your days are not filled with so much drama as mine. I'm very much looking forward to some quiet and uneventful time ahead.

A

15 August 2010

Sunday today. Nothing much to report from yesterday, so no separate entry. Just a long-awaited sleep in, pottering around the apartment and the town centre shops, some tooling around on the bike in the hills immediately around town (I've discovered what appears to be the local rubbish tip - gee, there were some interesting aromas coming from there!), catching up on some emails, smurfing the 'net etc.


Another sleep in this morning, not getting out of bed until about 10.45AM, followed by a leisurely breakfast. I seem to be finally catching on to this Chilean thing. Sunday mornings are usually very quiet here - no garbage trucks, no cars, no burglar alarms going off, the dogs seem to give up their patrols on Sundays. The only thing with any chance of disturbing my peace is the church on the opposite side of the plaza with its bells. I notice them sometimes, but must be reasonably immune to them now, as I'm sure I was bothered by them more when I first got here. Still, they come at a reasonable time, never before (I think) about 9AM.


So, what to do with the rest of my day? It isn't the most beautiful day in Copiapo. Nearing midday and it's still quite grey. Still, going on the majority of days in the past week or two, I reckon it will clear up and warm up nicely in the afternoon. I decide I'll take the bike out for a fang. On my map, there are a number of interesting looking roads heading to the mountains to the east, so I'll try exploring one of those for a little while and see where I end up.


Given it is cool, I take the added precaution of wearing both of my polar fleece jackets, along with my thickest shirt. As I head off down the road, I begin wondering if it is the smartest thing to be doing, as it is COLD. My teeth aren't quite chattering inside my helmet, but if it keeps on like this, it won't be long. I think seriously about turning around and retreating to the "Bat Cave", as the wind is cutting through my three layers, however I ultimately decide to press on, as there are hints of blue sky through the clouds ahead. Perhaps it isn't as thick as it seems?


Heading south through Tierra Amarilla and Nantoco, the weather is improving and I find the road I'm looking for. It's not as prominently marked as I'd have thought it might be, but it is sufficient. I'm heading in the direction of Paso Pircas Negras, which is another route through the Andes to Argentina. Given that I don't have a valid passport, I certainly won't be going as far as any border control points along the route, but I've got almost a full tank of petrol and about 5 hours of daylight in which to use it. That should be plenty of time.



According to the sign, the border is a good 160km away - no chance of actually making it there, as the bike has a maximum range of about 350km and I've already used up a good 50 or so of them. Let's see what we see.


Within the first 500m, I find the reason for the large number of trucks that have been on the road, including the one in front of me whose dust I am eating. There is a small ore processing plant just off the side of the road, and the trucks are busy pulling in there to unload their ore. The other side of the road, and the valley all around, contains abundant grape vines. Not too sure how "uncontaminated" they might be, but I'd hazard a guess that even if the area had a problem with mildew on the grapes, these ones might be OK!

The road is in pretty good condition. It is well compacted dirt, with only minor amounts of loose gravel. I can belt along on the straights quite happily, but am far more wary on the corners. I don't want any escapades in the gravel, and am soon reminded of how powerful the bike is as I exit one corner and open up the throttle a bit. The rear wheel spins freely, drifting out to the side, and yeeeha, this is fun, but probably not very wise to keep doing it on roads I don't know, on a bike that is big, heavy and still new to me.

The valley starts out fairly wide and open, but soon narrows and is just spectacular. Mountains loom on either side, the colours are highly variable and I can't help but think of them as "the painted mountains". I wonder if any of the local names might include such a description. For any geo's reading this - truckloads of alteration systems of varying size all the way along here and I wonder how much of the darker bits are iron-rich systems. In places, there are swarms of felsic dykes, all weathered and leaving white slashes across the darker rocks as they erode away. Just beautiful.




I pass little randomly located buildings next to historic mine workings, old mine processing areas or villages (evidenced by the little cluster of stone terraces), little shrines to deceased travellers along the road, small oases when a spring brings water to the surface and so on. The road alternates between long, straight sections, and tightly winding curves where I'm down to around 40km/h.


Then it gets REALLY interesting. The gently climbing road stops and it swings up the hill to my right in a fantastic series of switch-backs. A sealed road through here would be heaven for motorcyclists, but the dirt is a challenge - nervously and slowly around each of the hairpins in the loose gravel, followed by powering out of the corners and a short blat up the straights, then do it over again. It's a heap of fun for the most part, but still nerve-wracking in moments.

I'm starting to idly wonder about how high I am - there is a distinct lack of signs, but I know that I'm only about 110 k's from Copiapo, so the border is a long way ahead. I guess I must be reasonably high, as I have been seeing snow on the surrounding peaks for a while, and now I've been climbing for some time. As I'm having these thoughts, I come around a hairpin and find my first little piece of ice on the windrow of the road in a little niche that is protected from the sun. OK, that means I must be a fair way up.

Before too long, there is more snow, although still only in little pockets that don't see much or any sun. The slope I am riding up is north-facing, so I don't see too much on it, bit the surrounding hills have more and more. I can see a saddle in the hills ahead of me, and I think it'll make a good place to stop and take some photo's. Two corners to go, and there is a short-cut up the hill, saving a few hundred metres off the main road. It looks well used, so I figure I'll give it a go.

The engine of the bike roars as I open the throttle to zoom up the track. The surface is a bit loose, so I drop down to first and ease off the throttle, and am immediately surrounded by clouds of dust whipping past me. For a moment, I am completely confused about what is happening, until I realise that the dust is mine, and is being carried past me by the wind. I get to the top of the saddle and everything clicks into place. There is a howling gale coming up the hill behind me, which I haven't noticed as I've been riding in the same direction as it, and at about the same speed for most of the time. I turn slowly around and for a short while I'm pretty much perpendicular to the wind and nearly blown off the bike. It is very strong, and when I think about parking the bike, I realise that I will have to leave parked very carefully, or the wind will blow it over.

I climb off, looking forward to stretching my aching limbs, and am immediately blown off balance, staggering for a metre or two. Not only is the wind fierce, it is also COLD. It is also extremely dehydrating. I lick my lips to moisten then, but that goes in a second. At one stage I have the idle thought that my tongue will stick to my lips if I'm not careful! It's necessary for a long drink, and being so cold, I manage to spill a few drops, which are immediately flung away by the wind. I am confident that they will not touch the ground, having evaporated first. It's an amazing feeling.

To keep the breeze out, I put my helmet back on and lower the visor. I also put my backpack on to help keep my back a little warmer. I can then appreciate the view. There is a lot of snow here in the sheltered spots, nothing in the open. The difference still surprises me, but I now appreciate that it isn't only the sun that helps to disperse any snow accumulations.

Back on the bike, I keep on for a kilometre or so, but I've pretty much reached my logical turn-around point, around 140km since I refuelled, so allowing for a safety margin, I should go back soon. The saddle also marks a sensible geographic turning point, as at least for a while, the road looks to be dropping down into the next valley.

Back I go, picking my way carefully down the hills and around the loose gravel in the hairpins. I've really noticed the cold today, and am extra careful because of the dulling of the senses that comes with being a bit chilled. The temperature readout indicates a balmy 12 degrees, but I'm convinced it is colder than that. I've really noticed the heated hand grips today and am very thankful for them. I've reported previously that I was underwhelmed by them, but I appreciate them today and am now a convert!

The ride back down through the valley goes much quicker than the ride up - it's funny how that happens. Still, I'm thankful for it, as I'm feeling tired and sore from not being used to the heavy bike.

In the shelter of the valley, the sun has heated things up to allegedly just under 20 degrees, so I have started to warm up again, however coming back into Copiapo, it looks like the sun hasn't made it through the cloud at all today and it is back to being cold, around 15 degrees.

Back in the apartment, a quick review of my route on Google Earth shows that the pass I turned around at is indeed rather high, 3200m exactly according to the point indicator. Just remarkable, nearly 1000m higher than Australia's highest point, and I've just zoomed up there on the bike on a lazy Sunday afternoon.

Spicy lentil and vegetable soup for dinner - not bad at all, if it is permissible to critique ones own cooking!

Definitely need an early night, and will be sore tomorrow. Just a fabulous day.

Love to all my three readers!

A

11 August 2010

Hi all,


For me, an amazing event occurred today in Copiapo.


No, my wallet wasn't handed in by one of the locals, everything still there, including the money.


Even better. It rained.


Not just a passing shower either, but rain that meant the streets got wet, the gutters had water flowing in them, windscreen wipers were used in cars, people had umbrellas out and so on. We left town to visit the drill rig at maybe 11AM or so and it was raining, and we returned at about 2.30PM and it was still raining. It wasn't heavy rain, but steady, light rain was a fantastic sight to see and will boost the chances of seeing many more flowers in the desert this season.





Fantastic, or so I thought. There were any number of people on ladders inspecting their roofs, most likely trying to figure out how to stop the water from getting in. Mission impossible for many I'd reckon, but I guess that it isn't as though it happens very often, so maybe a little bit of water won't be too bad!


It also meant that the day was bloody cold! Everyone at the rig was bundled up with what looked like as many clothes as they could find. Bit of a Michelin Man kind of look happening, but I was certainly envious, given the relative lack of winter gear that I have with me. All of mine will arrive in about two weeks time, so if life's little ironies work out as normal, that should mark the end of the need until next year!



Chao.


A

10 August 2010

Hello again,


Not much to report from today, other than spending a good couple of hours in the morning with Lizette at the "interesting" branch of the police force reporting the fact that my wallet, containing my passport etc. has been lost/stolen.


The local police force appears (to me) to be divided into the uniformed branch (the carabinieri) and the plain clothes branch (the PDI - Policia de Investigaciones de Chile). As the name suggests, the PDI seem to be the detectives. Not meaning to be disrespectful to them in any way, they look like they have come straight from a movie set. Suits and the little flip-open "badge" carriers that the detectives from America all carry in the movies, complete with little chain around the neck. The only difference is the lack of bad/grumpy attitude and dishevelled look that at least some of them have in the movies. Actually, maybe these guys had a little of the grumpy attitude...


When we report to the PDI office, we are pointed towards the Extranjero's Office, which as I understand the term, refers to us "foreign" workers in the country. I'm initially impressed that they have seen fit to have an office dedicated to us foreign types, but the more I think about it, the more worried I am. Could it be that they NEED a dedicated branch of detectives for us because we are a lot of trouble? Hmmm, I wonder if this will go smoothly...



We enter and look at the three detectives sitting at their desks. The one in the middle makes eye contact for the longest, so we home-in on him. Perhaps surprisingly for the people in the foreigners office, there is no attempt at English, perhaps because Lizette is there and explains the situation in Spanish. There is certainly not a lot of eye contact with me, nor much looking in my general direction other than the occasional disparaging glance!


I try to follow what is going on but am soon lost by the rapid-fire exchanges between Lizette and Detective # 1 (D1), as well as periodic involvement in the conversation from Detective # 2 (D2). Before too long, it becomes necessary to produce what documentation I have, which is now restricted to print-outs of scans of my documents. More disapproving looks... Being detective types, they hone in on the tourist visa side of things, which I've banged on about previously. It becomes very clear that several of the documents relating to the extension of my tourist visa aren't really doing it for D1 and he spends considerable time reading and re-reading all of them. It dawns on me that his biggest concern at the moment is whether I am in the country illegally beyond the terms of my visa, rather than the fact that all of my documents are missing. In the meantime, efforts have been made to raise my lawyers in Santiago, all of whom are absent from their office or in meetings. Things are not going so well. It takes the better part of an hour or so before he is happy that I am here legally, after confirmation (somehow) by a report from their computer network. It is fair to say that I am feeling a little more relieved at this point!


The rest of our time there appears to relate to the completion of a report detailing the circumstances of what happened. Finally, I have a copy of a police report indicating that my documents were stolen. To top it off, we have to pay for the report. It's only about a dollar, but nonetheless, it seems odd.


We leave the building and head back to the office. I feel a bit deflated, and that nothing is likely to come from the exercise, but it was necessary, so I suppose there is no point fighting it. Even if the wallet is now somehow recovered, I've had to cancel everything anyway, so the only bonus will be the recovery of the wallet itself.


We also report to the local currency exchange shop and notify them of the fact that around A$100 or so could be in the hands of a local, so if anyone is trying to exchange aussie dollars, they might give us a call.


The bright side of things is that at least I'm "permanently" here and this has happened. I have time on my side to recover the situation. It would be extraordinarily difficult for anyone just travelling through the country for a week or so to lose their documents. I'm also extraordinarily fortunate to have Lizette here to help. Sure, I'd probably manage without her, but she just makes things so much easier. I can't thank her enough!


Anyway, that's about it for the day. Let's see what tomorrow brings.


A

9 August 2010

Hello All,

Back to Copiapo this morning... I'm feeling pretty weary after my last few days, including some late nights on the 'net and emails etc, plus early starts. I have a real battle this morning with trying to pack my bags given all of the wine I've bought, and nearly forget the pants and shirt hanging in the wardrobe! Eventually, I get it together and check-out, then it's into the taxi to the airport.

I am well aware of the long queues at the airport, but still think that arriving there an hour before the flight should be fine, however today it looks like two hours would be a better idea. The lines are huge, not only to the machines that spit out your boarding pass, but then the other lines to drop your bags off. How such a simple thing can take so long, I have no idea - after all, almost everyone has their boarding pass, either done at the machines or printed out from the 'net earlier. Anyway, progress is very slow, and sure enough, before too long on the LAN staff is wandering along the queue looking for people to Copiapo. At least, that's what I think I can hear her saying. It doesn't sound a lot like the pronunciation I'm used to, but I decide to take a punt and question her in my best Spanglish... "Copiapo?" I say and she responds with a rather disdainful look - der, of course I said Copiapo is what I imagine she is thinking. Along with a few others, I'm ushered to the front and side of the main queue, where we have our own dedicated check-in chica. Again, my drop-off takes about 30 seconds, so I wonder what can take so long for everyone else?

I make my way to the boarding area, through security (an extraordinary LACK of a queue here) and to the gate. It seems I have a few minutes to spare, so I stare tiredly out of the window while trying to listen to the Spanish conversations around me. Unfortunately all I can hear is some droning Americans, whose English obliterates any chance I have of concentrating on hearing words in a conversation.

On board the plane, the boarding goes smoothly and we're on our way. I don't think I even get to see the top of the smog before I've nodded off. I wake briefly a couple of times during the flight with a sore neck, but readjust and off I go again. I wake again as we're landing and feel very hot - seems like they've not got the aircon or the fans going! Being seated in the middle of the plane, I'm the last off, and am thankful for the cool, fresh air to wake me up.

I head for the baggage claim and catch up with Juan Carlos, one of the geo's on our team. We're chatting about the weekend, when I realise I haven't got my wallet. Damn, it's in the seat pocket of the plane! I race back to get it (with nobody bothering to stop me or question me), locate it, then back to get my bags.

LAN seem to have a special treat for me when I arrive into an airport with two bags. The first is always out early, the second is nearly last. This happens both in Copiapo and Santiago and is quite entertaining. If I go with one bag, it is guaranteed to be nearly last!

We're finally ready to go and we get into the waiting taxi. It's a 45km trip to Copiapo from the airport, so JC and I chat about how everything is going and so on. On arrival into Copiapo, we're dropped at the front of the office. JC heads to the hotel, I head to my apartment, about 150m, to drop my stuff off and have lunch.

After lunch, it's back to the office and work for the afternoon.

At the end of the day, perhaps 6.30PM, I decide I've had enough and want to go home. I get my stuff together and realise that I can't find my wallet. I make a cursory search of my desk, but can't see it. No problem, I must have just left it in my apartment. I get back there and search for it, but no luck. My frustration is rising, so it's back to the office for a proper search. Nope, still no luck. Back to the apartment, thorough search, and nope, not their either.

The sinking feeling that I've had for the last hour climaxes with the realisation that I've managed to lose my wallet. Apart from the wallet itself (birthday present from the kids), it contained;

1. My passport,
2. My tourist visa documents,
3. My Australian drivers licence
4. My international drivers licence,
5. My credit card
6. My ATM keycard
7. My company credit card,
8. My medicare card
9. About A$200 worth of chilean pesos
10. About A$120 (tucked away there so I wouldn't forget about it in my apartment)

Pretty much every piece of identification I have here in Chile was in there, plus all of my access to finances. It dawns on me pretty quickly that I'm going to be in a world of pain if I can't recover it.

I conclude that there are three options for how I might have lost it.

• In the taxi,
• On the way to my apartment,
• On the way back from my apartment.

I ring Lizette to see if she can talk to the taxi driver, but when she does, he reports that he hasn't found it.

Losing it in the street seems most likely, so we head for the carabinieri's to report it, but they aren't particularly interested and point us at the PDI (the detectives part of the police force). We walk there, but being 9PM, they ask us to come back tomorrow.

Hmmm, this is not looking good. While I have scans of all of my documents, the time it will take to renew them is going to be significant. Worse, my passport number is an essential piece of information on all of my work visa application documents. Chances are that will now be delayed because of the need for a new passport.

I spend the next four hours on Skype trying to cancel all of the relevant things that need cancelling, as well as arranging for new versions, as best I can. I reckon it will be at least a month before I am back to normal. In the meantime, I've got to figure out how to survive with no ready access to cash, and no identification papers - my Vintage Cellars card and South Perth library card aren't going to get me too far...

Exhausted, I fall into bed at about 1AM. Tomorrow is another day, but probably not as much fun as the previous few.

Hope everyone else has their act together a bit better.

A

8 August 2010

The second part of my weekend in Santiago is a wine tour of the Concha y Toro winery on the southern margin of the city. It's just over 22km as the sober crow flies from the centre of Santiago. I'm to be collected at 10AM by my excellent guide Juan from my hotel and then we set off, to be returned at 2PM. This will be my first "wine tourism" in Chile - visits to bottle shops don't count!

As expected Juan is there right on time and off we go. We travel to the south for a while on the very large "ring-road" around Santiago - Americo Vespuccio. I don't know who or what it is named after, so perhaps when I finish this, I might consult the mighty oracle that is Wikipedia and see what it has to say about the name (assuming I remember between now and then).

As we head south, we talk about the variation between Australian cities and Santiago. Here, despite being now many (driving) kilometres from the city, there are still an abundance of high-rise flats/apartments, which is obviously in significant contrast to Australian cities, where high-rises pretty much occur in the city centre, then give way to "the 'burbs" before too long as you move outwards. Many of the big buildings have been built since the 70's (from memory) and are generally much younger than the 'normal' houses that still exist in in pockets/areas.

A line of the fantastic (in my opinion) metro system also runs down the middle of Americo Vespuccio. Actually, it runs in the air above it, being elevated around 10m above the roadway. For me, it looks quite spectacular, however when it was being built, objections from the residents meant that the inner city portion runs underground rather than above. I'd guess that further from the city centre, the poorer neighbourhoods had other things to worry about than protesting about an unsightly rail line? They were probably just excited to have decent public transport access to other parts of the city!

In all, it takes around 45 minutes to get to the winery. I feel that we arrive quite suddenly, as I've been rubber-necking for most of the trip and feel like quite the googly-eyed tourist (which I am)! The winery is surrounded by a large wall, and looks quite imposing. It is clearly a significant tourist destination, judging by the large car park!

Again, Juan disappears for a moment, then comes back to announce that the tour is organised to commence at 11.30AM and will be in English - an earlier one way possible, but it would be in Spanish. The delay is no big deal, as it presents the opportunity to scout out the possibilities in the cellar door shop, both for wine and assorted paraphenalia (books, merchandise such as t-shirts, jumpers and aprons, gourmet food bits - all the usual stuff). The building is beautifully built and the shop bit is very well laid out - very impressive, and of course I have completely forgotten to take any photo's of it!

11.30 rolls around and we're ushered into a theatrette for a bit of a promo video for Concha y Toro. As you might expect, it is beautifully shot - their vineyards all look to be in beautiful parts of the world. After the video, we meet our guide for the tour - Camila - who speaks excellent English, and off we go. There are four Americans, two Poms, a Boliviana and myself. We wander off down an lovely path through the gardens towards what was originally the main house, but now houses the administration team - funny how admin usually score the prime bits of real estate in these sorts of things! For the end of winter, the gardens are in good shape, although the pictures of the house on the internet when all of the flowers are blooming look stunning, so I might have to make another trip later in the year.

There is a lake, huge old trees, manicured lawns, and the occasional vineyard thrown in for good measure. We get a bit of a spiel about the house, grounds and vineyards, along with the opportunity to ask questions. Being such a small group, perhaps we are all a bit self-conscious about asking dumb questions, and there aren't many asked, despite the frequent prompting of Camila. The comment is made (not by Camila) that we might be the most boring group of tourists she has ever taken around the grounds!

On heading back to the winery complex from the vineyard, we pause at a table and are given a quick lesson on wine tasting with a young Sauvignon Blanc. Not bad for a Sauv Blanc I have to admit!

Next, it is on to the barrel halls, which I reckon are always an impressive sight and here, yep, they're impressive alright. We are all mighty impressed at the winemakers who work their way through the halls on a regular basis, tasting the progress of the wine maturing in the barrels. Tough job, and everyone is envious!

Next, we head to the famed "Casillero del Diablo". This was originally the private cellar of the owner, but at some point, he realised that his plonk was disappearing. So the story goes, he took advantage of the locals superstitious nature and reported that the devil lived here. It had the desired effect, and the disappearance of his booze ceased (or slowed to manageable levels!). Some workers even reported actual sightings, and of course the part of the cellar housing the best bottles nowadays (the "Don Melchor") is now set up to perpetuate the story. This part of the cellar is beautifully made, complete with arched brickwork, pillars, "mood lighting" and so on. Despite the frequent earthquakes the country receives, apparently it has never need repair, so it seems the Chileno's of the past may have known something about bricklaying...

As we come up out of the cellar, the group divides in two - I'm off for a private tasting session with one of the sommeliers (Nicolas) in a special tasting room, complete with cheese board! Excellent, just the thing I need. We work our way through the wines (chardonnay, merlot, carmenere and cab sauv), talking about how to taste them, where they are from and so on. It is fascinating to discuss them, talk about the differences in the Chilean industry from that in Australia, and so on. The time flies, and then Nicolas announces that it is necessary to choose a favourite from the range. Despite wanting to love the carmenere the most, I choose the cab sauv, and for that, I get another half glass! Fantastic, tipsy before lunch in a winery (again). At the end of all, he also announces that one of the glasses is a present from the winery, along with the cheese board - another pleasing little bonus. In all, it has been a fantastic experience and one worth doing if you are in this part of the world.

Staggering out of the room, it's time to hit the gift shop/cellar door. I'm sure it is no coincidence that we move through there immediately after the tasting session, and true to form, I find it difficult to choose only two bottles. I come out with 5, plus the occasional other thing, and am a little disappointed that they don't appear to have a mailing list type arrangement that is usual back in Oz. I guess I'll just have to buy what I can from the local supermercado.

Juan is waiting back at the vehicle, and we head back to my hotel and arrive safely, pretty much at the designated time.

It's been a great couple of days being chauffered around by Juan, but it's time to go and resume being a normal citizen now. It's definitely time for lunch, so I catch a bus into the commercial part of Las Condes, where the Mundo del Vino "wine store" is located - it seems a bit pretentious to call it a "wine store" rather than a bottleshop, but that would seriously undersell it. Again, I am unable to help myself (and don't want to), and come away with three bottles of carmenere to add to the collection, not to mention my bulging bags for the trip back to Copiapo. To top off the end of a fantastic day, I treat myself to a chai latte at the nearby Starbucks (still yet to find an alternative...).

My flight tomorrow leaves at the very civilised time of 10:50AM, so I might even have a little sleep in. Looking forward to that.

Take care,

A