16 September 2010

Here comes summer - it's hot again this morning by the time I get to the office! Any thoughts I had about a long and mild spring seem like complete fantasy just now.

It's going to be a relatively short day work-wise, as apparently every heads off after lunch to get into the long weekend, and particularly as this weekend is extra special.

The morning is a bit disrupted by the presence of a local IT boffin, who is in to help set my computer up to access the new office network. No problem, I'll just spend a little while looking at my route for the weekend on Google Earth while he stuffs around with getting it all set up. My plan for today is to finish packing after lunch, finalise my route plans, and then to head north from Copiapo later this afternoon and maybe get to somewhere between Caldera and Chanaral and camp for the night. I have my swag with me here, and the lack of flies, ants, bugs, spiders, snakes etc makes the idea of camping out under the stars seem very attractive.

I make some quick maps of the volcanoes near San Pedro, as well as mapping out a route for getting to Monturaqui meteorite crater. I realize at one point that I've been doing this for a while now and the IT dude is still on my computer. I wander over and he reveals that he's having some troubles, and it might just be that he's stuffed everything up. Can I just log back in to it, fix everything up and he'll start again? Er, no. Not possible. How about we just leave it for today and we'll sort it out on Tuesday when I get back?

Noooo! It's stuffed. The computer works at a basic level, but everything that was really important to me now doesn't work properly. No HUGE problem. I'll just back-up my files on Tuesday morning, re-build everything from scratch and I'll be back in shape by Tuesday afternoon or Wednesday morning at the latest. First though, it's now lunch time. Completely wasted morning (from a work perspective).

My packing goes smoothly. All of my essentials go into the boxes, with sufficient room for all of the optional stuff. Refuel the bike, load everything on, put on all of the gear and I'm ready to go by about 3.30pm, much earlier than expected. The only small problem I face as I head off is that I'm hot. I'm very thankful for the cooler air as I approach the coast (Caldera). Everything is going beautifully well. The bike is loping along at between 90-100k's, the GPS holder is working a treat, the bike is comfortable and my bum isn't too sore, given that I'm stopping every half hour or so for a stretch.

North from Caldera to Chanaral and there's plenty of traffic on the road, but all moving well, so no problems whatsoever. I pull in to a side road a few k's short of Chanaral to review my map, have a little break, and look at the granite outcropping there. Of course, that also means taking a few photo's of the bike, as one does on this sort of adventure. I briefly contemplate sleeping here for the night, but it is far too early to stop, and in reality, a bit too close to the road. I have such a long way to go tomorrow that the further I make it tonight, the better.

I ride into Chanaral just before sunset. It still seems to be the dump that I thought it was when I first passed through here a month or two ago. The short time hasn't improved it. Perhaps it COULD be beautiful, but it is grey, decaying and not much more than a truck stop (at least for the parts I see). The petrol station is absolutely flat out with people travelling for the weekend, so it takes some time to refuel. The attendant is also amazed by how many people are out. It definitely is NOT normal, he says.

Back on the bike and continue north as the sun sets to the west, highlighting the beautiful mountains here. Large, light-grey coloured granite intrusions are cross-cut by numerous dark-coloured dykes here. The outcrop is superb – aah but for similar exposures back in Australia, geology would be a simple thing! Once the sun goes, my world shrinks to become focused on that little island of light in front of me, while everything around is black and impenetrable, apart from the bright spotlights that whiz towards and past me every now and again. The majority of the traffic seems to have disappeared from the road – certainly not all, but it is hard to believe so many cars were refueling in Chanaral and yet there are so few on the road now. Perhaps they were all Chanaral's residents fleeing for the weekend?

I turn off Ruta 5 towards Taltal, which I've never been to, with the intention of having dinner there and thinking about staying overnight. The 20k's of road into town seems like it might be a lot of fun during the daytime, however at night, it's definitely steady-as-she-goes though the curves. Eventually the lights of the town appear and suddenly I'm there. I refuel and then head into town to look for somewhere to eat. The thought has crossed my mind to keep going straight away and dine from a can, however the timing is good now, and a decent meal won't hurt.

Despite it being dark, I like the look of the town. It's well laid out, seems to be fairly clean, there aren't too many dogs roaming around and barking at me as I ride past. Somewhere for an overnight adventure one weekend, I reckon. Dinner is at a Chinese restaurant and the food is delicious, certainly better than the service. They also have a clean bathroom, which I'm very thankful for. Not sure how long it will be until I get a sit-down toilet again!

Heading north out of town is the coast route and again, looks like it might be a pretty good ride in the daytime, or at least without all of the gear I'm currently carrying. There isn't any meaningful distance between the ocean, the road and the hills in which to camp, so I carry on for a while yet and eventually reach the point where the road I want swings to the east and up into the mountains. The road leads to the Paranal Observatory, which in the astronomical world, is moderately famous. It has certainly produced some beautiful imagery from the telescopes there, however one major claim to fame was as a location in a James Bond movie (Quantum of Solace). While it isn't open to tourists this weekend, and even if it was, a tour must be organized well in advance, I'm looking forward to seeing it, if only from a distance. Anyway, the road away from the coast climbs and climbs. I go from sea level to around 2,000m in not much more than 15 minutes! Beautiful road.

Swinging to the north now, the GPS tells me I'm within not too many kilometers of the observatory, so it's time to find somewhere to camp so I can see the Observatory in the morning light. I find a little track leading off the road and ride on to it, but it disappears very rapidly. I'm riding over what looks like a braided river drainage, but it's hard to tell this late at night, despite the bright moon that is now high in the sky. The gravel is quite soft and I'm rather worried about taking a tumble in soft sand, so I head for what looks like a bit of a small rise that I hope will be a bit more firm. It turns out to be sufficient for my purposes, along with a nice flat rock to go under the side stand so that the bike doesn't fall over during the night. The night has really gotten away – it's not much short of midnight, it's also cold (with the altitude), so I hurriedly roll out the swag, undress and climb in. Aaah, home sweet home, at least for tonight. The stars are brilliant as the air is very clear, but it is the moon that is the current star of the sky. Big and brilliantly white, its reflected light is strong enough to cast shadows. I fold the hood of the swag over me to block out some light, and am asleep in no time at all.

Buenas noches!

A

15 September 2010

It's a busy week in Copiapo this week due to the upcoming long weekend. It appears that while Chile normally celebrates its Independence Day on the 18^th of September with quite a bit of enthusiasm, this years celebrations will be much bigger than normal due to it being the bicentennial of independence. The 18^th has, as luck would have it, fallen on the weekend this year. For fairly obvious reasons, the government has therefore seen fit to make it a 4-day weekend, with many activities planned in all areas of the country. Indeed, the whole country has been gearing up for the weekend for the entire time I've been here, but the last few weeks have seen those preparations hit overdrive. As I've mentioned previously, for me, it is the perfect opportunity to get a long way out from Copiapo and see some more of the world here, as well as forgetting about my travails with passports and the Australian government bureacracy.

As I've also banged on about, the bike comes with several boxes for luggage, so my preparations for the weekend have involved making piles. As is perfectly normal, I have an "essential" pile and a "nice to have" pile. For the moment, the essential pile is considerably larger than other, so it will probably come down to either having to leave out lots of essential stuff, or just taking the whole damn lot! I'm leaving it until tomorrow to actually try packing things into the boxes – you can't rush these things...

Today has also involved the purchase of a new rear tyre for the bike, something I've managed to arrange entirely in Spanish (another little feel-good moment). At least, I think that is what I've arranged. The truth will be revealed when I collect the bike as to what I've actually asked for!

Today was also quite hot, and as a portent of things to come during summer, and not a great sign. By the middle of the morning, it was allegedly 34 degrees outside. Regardless of the actual temperature, it's plenty warm in the office, and it is looking like I'll be having to battle with Lizette about the airconditioner. It seems that she might not be a fan of them, whereas I think they are one of the greatest inventions of the 20^th century (along with disposable nappies!). I guess we'll see how that goes in due course, but for today, it's windows open as far as they'll go to encourage the breeze, and some wishful thinking about having worn shorts to work! It has certainly warmed up very quickly. It doesn't seem like long ago and it was snowing on the hills surrounding town! Aaah, such is spring. It is fortunate that the nights are still cool so that my apartment (minus any kind of fan or airconditioner) is still a pleasant place to be, rather than the oven that it might be.

We're having another BBQ at the Guest House tonight to celebrate the end of our drilling program at Buenaventura. It's an early arrival time – 9PM! As usual, I'm running a little late, but it's also no big deal, as there is no obsession with time here in Chile. On my arrival at around 9:10PM, nobody is there except Victor, who is only just out of the shower and is getting ready. It works out very well, as I can spend 15 minutes attaching my new GPS holder to the handlebars of the bike with the tools in the storage shed. It is rumoured that the holder isn't very strong and is likely to break off on the rough roads, but I have faith in it. It seems quite robust and very well designed.

Just for a change, the party goes late. I do a runner at about 1.30AM and get some desperately needed shut-eye. And what was it about the morning being quite hot? It is cold on the way back to the apartment, and I'm wishing for at least one more layer of clothes, despite the several that I have. Hmmm, packing for this weekend will be even more of a challenge, in catering for both hot and cold options.

Chao,

A

14 September 2010

It's taken a long time, but I finally have all of the documentation required for my new passport application. So, today is the day. I'm off on a day trip to Santiago in order to submit the application, which must be done in person and includes an interview at the consulate. I'm therefore up early making sure I've got everything organised, then off to the airport for the 'early morning' flight that leaves Copiapo at about 9AM.

When it came time to make the travel arrangements, I had a bit of a 'learning experience'. The cost of internal flights here in Chile have been a bit of a mystery to me, until now. It seems that if you book a return flight with only a short time between the flights (e.g. 1 or two days), regardless of how far in advance you make the booking, then the flights are very expensive, let alone trying to book a return flight for just the one day. Total cost of todays flight would have been between A$500-600, but for Lizette pointing out how the charges work and suggesting that I book two flights instead. So, I booked something like the following;

• Copiapo to Santiago – this morning
  
• Santiago to Copiapo – return flight on a Sunday night in the middle of October
  

AND

• Santiago to Copiapo – this evening
  
• Copiapo to Santiago – return flight on a Friday afternoon in the middle of October
  

It took some time for me to get my head around how this works and the logic of it, but the nett result is that I have two flights for about 2/3 of the cost of a single return flight in the one day.

Anyway, so off I go to Santiago. It's a little bit nerve-wracking travelling using a cancelled passport as your identity document, however it doesn't LOOK cancelled, so it shouldn't raise any suspicions from the airline people. It would only be a problem if they were to punch the number into a computer system, which only going to happen if I cause trouble. Best behavior then, sitting up straight, brushed hair, pleasant smiles, "Gracias!" to one and all…

Everything goes swimmingly well through check-in and boarding – it's an absolute pleasure to be travelling without luggage – and just the same when I get off the plane. No waiting at the baggage carousel this time for the extra-special "gringo's bags come out last" trick again. Ha ha ha!!! The taxi trip goes well, with fresh snow on the mountains being the topic of discussion, which I can cope with for five minutes or so. I get dropped off at the other end of the street from the Consulate so that I can stretch my legs, make my ritual pilgrimage to Starbucks, post some letters, get some cash from an ATM to pay for the application and lost/stolen passport penalty. I therefore wander in to the foyer of the Consulate at about 11AM. All good so far, but…

I stand patiently waiting for the ladies on reception while they deal with two customers in front of me, both of whom seem intent on telling their entire life's stories in excruciating detail and seem in no hurry whatsoever to move on. The receptionistas are also in no hurry to move them on, nor are they in any hurry to deal with the (increasingly) bored and fidgety gringo standing and waiting. They look at me every now and again, so I know they are fully aware that I'm there. Aaah, at last, a good 10 minutes later and there is signs of one of them finishing up. At the exact moment the person leaves the counter and I'm bending down to pick up my bag, some guy comes barging through the rotating doors and arrives at the counter two steps ahead of me. He turns and looks at me, then looks to the receptionist and starts talking. She looks at me, and then starts talking to him.

I'm absolutely gobsmacked at the rudeness of all concerned in this little episode, but I shouldn't be so surprised. While queueing is a Chilean national sport, particularly where there are those little guides for the lines of people to stand in, when those lines don't exist and a little bit of a free-form line/queue is required, the people are more than happy to elbow their way past you and push in front, a la my Tur-Bus experience a month or two ago. Anyway, as I pick my jaw up off the floor and start to collect my stunned thoughts about what to say in Spanish (berating them in English will probably not be too effective), the other receptionist seems to be finishing up with her pesky customer, so I move with some haste towards her before one of the others now waiting beats me to her. Not that I have it my own way, as there were definitely moves made by others to get there before me! I glare at the other two, but they don't react at all. Situation normal, it seems.

Checking in to the building is easily done, simply name and passport number, get a visitors card and I'm on my way. Same as every queue here – my stuff is over and done with in no time, yet everyone else seems to take 5 times as long for no apparent reason. Not for the first time, I wonder if there is a big sign over me that says "Screw with my day, I've got nothing better to do!"

The Consulate is located on the 13^th floor and I idly wonder if that will be lucky for me today. I announce myself at the security window and am asked to take a seat and wait and someone will see me shortly. The reception area has a number of posters advertising what the Consulate can do for you, as well as what it can't do for you. There are plenty of posters and items indicating that this is definitely Australian. The bit that sticks in my mind is the poster advertising that the mission statement for the Consulates is along the lines of "… helping Australians overseas…". Prophetic words.

I'm eventually ushered into a meeting room and the interview commences. I explain the circumstances of why I'm here and so on. Lots of nodding sympathy and all of the right noises. I hand over the passport application form and we start going through it. Hmmm, problems, she says. Photo's aren't right. What do you mean, they're not right? I went to a shop that specializes in passport photo's. I took the instructions for the photo's. I stood with the lady and watched while she measured everything to ensure it was all OK and matched the instructions on the application. That's nice, but they are not right. You'll have to go and get more. But don't you realize how long it takes to send things back and forth from Australia? It's going to take a minimum two weeks to get new photo's organized. Oh that's no problem, she says. We'll just use one of these incorrect photo's that are authorized and put it with your new photo's. No problem.

Next, where is your birth certificate? Of course I don't have my birth certificate here in Chile with me. But you NEED that for the application. But, I counter, I rang and discussed that with someone here in this office and said that I didn't have it and at no point did they indicate that it was a show-stopper. In fact, I'm pretty darn sure we discussed that if I had a bunch of other things, then we might not need it. I also filled out the application form where it said "Will you be presenting your birth certificate?", ticked the box that said no, and then went to the next question. At no point did the form say that this would be a show-stopper. That's nice, she said. It's a show stopper.

At this point, I pull my passport from my wallet and ask that, surely, seeing as all of my documents were returned to me (but after I had cancelled everything), then the old passport must count for something in the "identifying myself" process. Her eyes light up and for a moment I think that everything will be OK. The relief is short-lived, as the passport is extracted from my hands, examined forensically, and then she announces that she'll be cancelling it immediately and taking it off my hands. No, no, no I say. It is my only meaningful form of identification here and I need it for my flight back to Copiapo. But you can't travel with it, as it is cancelled, she says. We discuss that I know it is cancelled, but surely that only applies to international travel. Here, it is just a document with a photo on it that is used to confirm your identity when getting on a domestic flight. There is nothing official about it. Grudgingly she agrees to the logic of that, but disappears with it anyway to make a photocopy of it. A few minutes later she returns and hands me the passport, all now nicely stamped with the words "Cancelled" on each page, the bar codes cut off, and the edges trimmed as well. It is now very clearly an "ex" passport. Thanks, I think to myself. You do the right thing, and look what happens. I should've just left it in my bag and they'd have been none the wiser, and I'd have had less problems than what this will now present me. There is a very real chance I could be refused access to the plane this evening.

The interview resume with the next problem, where is a bill or something that shows your current address on it? I rent my apartment in Copiapo. The owners name is on all of the bills. All of my mail is sent via courier from Australia though my office there. I have NOTHING here that shows my address. That's nice, she says, but you need something that shows your address. But I can't get anything in my name without a Chilean ID card, and I can't get that without a work visa, and I can't get that without a passport! Hmm, yes, she says, seeing the circular problem, but you need something with your current address on it. But it isn't possible. But you need it… I stop that discussion at that point, as I'm only getting more frustrated, and her enthusiasm for bureaucracy is not going to be defeated by me on this occasion.

I slump, defeated, in the chair.

It's no problem, she says, just get someone in Australia to pop in to get your birth certificate, drop it off at the nearest passport office and they can send it through to us in Santiago. Then you can pop in, we can do the interview again, and everything will be fine, she says, smiling at me. The mindset here is that everyone lives in the capital city and that this sort of thing is no problem. However, when your family lives in regional Victoria, where passport offices are not on every corner and you don't pop into the local service station for your birth certificate, things are a little more of a challenge to organize. I also remind her that I live in Copiapo, and in case she doesn't know where that is, it is 800km to the north of here. You can't just pop in. Hmmm, she says, that's nice. Just get your info together and pop back in and we'll do the interview again.

What more can I say to that than "Thanks for your help", and my mind cuts back to the sign in the foyer about the mission statement. At that, I get the first bit of helpful advice from her. There is a passport photo place just a few blocks from here that is well versed in providing photo's for Australian passports. She even writes down the address for me.

I leave the office a bit after 1pm. Two hours, and all I have to show for it is a headache, a desire to kick the nearest cat, and an address for a new passport photo. I take a deep breath and head off to get some lunch and relax. After a fairly unsatisfying lunch at a local food hall, I head off to the photo joint. Excellent advice, the place looks very shut and there is a small sign on the door indicating that it isn't going to open any time today and if you want some assistance, here's the number to ring. My Spanish isn't up to that conversation, so I trudge off in search of another passport photo joint. I eventually find one in a small arcade and have a long conversation with the proprietor about the craziness of the Australian government and that I need some new photo's. Not to mention, they must be of these dimensions, etc etc. No problem he says.

Photo's taken, developed, measured and handed over. At least I've had one win today, I think to myself. Seeing as I've got a bit of time before the evening flight, I decide to take the opportunity of going back to the consulate and confirming that these photo's are OK. My experience with the receptionistas is better this time, as they have no-one to choose to serve ahead of me. I smile/grimace at them…

Back upstairs, the lady takes one look at my photo's and says nope, no good. I'm stumped. What do you mean they are no good? They're no good. She reads me the dimensions of what is required and describes what is required. Out I go, again. The passport photo man is surprised to see me again, but when I repeat my conversation with the lady and explain what she says, he shrugs his shoulders and we take another picture. Back again to the consulate.

Same story there too. Nope, no good. At this stage, I am close to understanding the feelings that people must have when they turn up at somewhere like this armed with a shotgun. Please, please, please, explain to me in painful detail why these photo's are no good. She disappears again and comes back with an overlay image thingie and hands it to me. The dimensions are for the face, she says. I understand that, I say, but we've measured the face every time. What is it that we're doing wrong?

It turns out that my hair is the problem. Because I have hair which has some form of a fringe, then the measurements must be from the bottom of the jaw to the bottom of the fringe, rather than the top of the head as the photo guide appears to indicate. It's a "eureka" moment. A final trip back to the very surprised passport photo man produces a final set of photo's, or so I hope. Back to the consulate and the lady looks disapprovingly at the photo's. They're a bit yellow, she says, but I think they'll be OK. Oh, happy days…

To celebrate, I stop off at Mundo del Vino and buy a few bottles of wine that is hard to get in Copiapo, then off in the taxi to the airport. The taxi driver is a sport nut, and is fascinated by what sports we play in Australia. I think I amuse him no end in trying to describe "Futbol Australiano", and part company at the airport with a firm handshake and big smiles, along with me paying him the normal price (i.e. without him trying to rip me off).

The return to Copiapo is uneventful. My concerns about my cancelled and chopped up passport are not realized at the boarding gate, and I'm home safely by around 9pm. Quite frankly, it's been a fairly crappy day. Better luck next time, with lots of lessons learned (the hard way).

Chao,

A

11 September 2010

Lizette is away in Santiago this weekend, leaving Mauricio free to come out and play with the lads! He he he! It's been suggested that we go for a ride on the bikes and it's fair to say that the idea was greeted with some enthusiasm! That enthusiasm stretched from thinking about meeting up at maybe 7.30AM or so and heading off to make sure we got a full day of riding in, but then reality kicked in and we thought about it a bit more, so we knocked the start time back to around 8AM. After a bit more discussion and thinking about it all, we eventually agreed that 8.30AM was far more sensible, not to mention more likely that both of us would be out of bed by that time. But then again, maybe a bit of a sleep in would be nice, so how about 9AM? The trend was not looking too good at this point, so further discussions were ceased, with a firm 9AM start in the Plaza agreed to.

So, when 9AM kicked around and I wasn't quite ready to go, I felt a little bad about letting the team (Mauricio) down, but when I arrived at maybe 9:07AM and he wasn't there, I didn't feel so guilty about delaying the big day out. I still had to fuel up, but not to worry, we can do that when we head off. I parked the bike and sat down on one of the park benches, enjoying the sun's warmth on my black bike jacket in the otherwise cool morning air.

An older gentlemen, perhaps in his 50's, has spotted me getting off the bike and sitting down, and has been casting furtive glances in my direction for a little while now, as he strolls the streets with a woman who I (naturally) assume is his wife. Eventually they both seem unable to help themselves and wander over in my direction, introduce themselves and commence a chat about the bike. Yes, it is big. Yes, it might go fast, but I don't really know – it does 100kph on the highway and dirt roads, which is sufficient for me. I've only had it for a few weeks now and I'm going for a ride today. Yes, I bought it here in Copiapo. They were very patient at trying to follow my grammatically poor Spanish, but they seemed to get it in the end. It turns out that he has a BMW650 of the similar style, hence his interest in having a chat. They wander off and, perhaps inspired by my warming myself on the park bench, install themselves on another one and watch the morning traffic (pedestrian and vehicular) moving lazily past.

Seeing as the morning is getting on a bit and still no sign of Mauricio, I give him a call. I'd been hoping to have no answer from him, which would mean that he was on his way already, but no, he answers the phone. Sounding a little bit flustered and in a hurry, he reckons he'll be on his way in 5 minutes. No problems, I'll take the opportunity to go and get fuel. As I take off, my BMW-riding friends are still sitting there, so I nod in acknowledgement to them and they wave in return. I crack open the throttle for a few seconds to give them a dose of the sound of the V-twin springing to life, as well as the crackling of the exhaust as I back off when approaching the next corner. Whether they heard it or not, I enjoyed the little burst!

Refueling is a similar exercise in chatting about the bike (again), so you'd be forgiven for thinking that I have it all figured out, yet the attendant manages to ask the same type of questions, but with different words, so yet again, I struggle to understand what the hell he is on about for the first minute or so. Eventually, I get what he's on about, so I hit him with the usual statements, and he seems happy enough with the answers (although it is always possible that what I am saying makes no sense at all, so he is just nodding along in the hope that I'll stop talking soon...)

Back to the Plaza and still no sign of Mauricio. My BMW friends are also gone, which is a relief – no more complicated questions. I walk about 20m to look at the artisanal craft stalls and Mauricio arrives. Good timing. We discuss the fact that I've just refuelled and he needs to do so, so we agree to meet at the Petrobras station. I assume it will be the same one I just visited, but after thinking about our conversation, and the fact that he headed off in what I consider to be an odd direction, perhaps I have misunderstood. Bother. I'm very relieved to find him where I thought he'd be when I arrive a few minutes later...

After a few minutes of chat about where we might actually go today, we agree that we'll go south down the Copiapo Valley towards Los Loros, and further to the south. A journey along the valley to Los Loros was one of the first I did when I arrived in Copiapo, so this promises to be good fun on the bike. As we zoom along, I'm pleased to find that there are signs of green in all of the vineyards that line the valley floor – budburst has been and gone and the first shoots are perhaps 15cm or so in length. It won't be long before the Valley is the verdant ribbon seen in many of the tourist-oriented photo's that you find of the Copiapo area on the 'net.

The road is good fun and despite the occasional quick break for a photo, we make good progress and eventually get to Los Loros. Passing through the town, I come to the conclusion that I'm starting to feel a bit stiff. A few k's to the south and it is definitely time for a stop. I pull over and climb off, and Mauri pulls up behind me. He climbs off as stiffly as I reckon I did. Both of us make the exact same noises – something along the lines of "uuurrrggghhhh" as we uncoil our limbs and stretch – which of course also prompts a bit of a laugh as we discuss how sore our bums are. Our discussion soon turns to more interesting things – I hadn't realised that Mauri works at least one day in the week in the Valley as part of his job as a sales rep for Coke. While it is all new for me, he is a veteran of the run and knows what to expect and where to expect it.

It's also starting to feel quite warm – winter has definitely left us. Here in a sheltered part of the Valley, it feels really quite hot (the temperature readout on the bike later indicates a temperature around 28 degrees!), so several layers of clothes come off and go into the storage box, after which, riding is quite pleasant.

The Valley continues to narrow, but those vineyards are still there, taking up almost every available piece of suitable ground. Mauri tells me that there is difference in harvest time of around 3 weeks from the Copiapo end of the Valley to here – amazing what a little bit of altitude and the variation in microclimate can do.

Eventually we reach a point where we can start to see the remnants of recent snowfalls on the sheltered sides of the hills, which adds to the beauty of the scenery and soon enough, the Valley has narrowed to a degree that there are no more vines to be found. Another few corners, sharper and sharper and suddenly the road divides and the bitumen ends. We stop for another break and decide where to go. The road to the left looks pretty significant and it seems that it will eventually loop its way right up into the high mountains and meet up with some new mining projects and then on to the road near the Paso Pircas Negras. It is far too far for us to attempt today and would require additional fuel, food and potentially even an overnight camp-out. Something to plan for, rather than a spur-of-the-moment kind of trip. Mauri is of the opinion that the road ahead (the one less travelled) is scenic enough and I think I understand that there is another little settlement ahead, so off we go again.

The road narrows quickly and winds its way up the small Valley. We cross bridges with signs indicating a 3 ton limit, so it's pretty obvious that there isn't going to be much in the way of restaurants for lunch up here. We pull off the road again for a reason I can't quite remember just at the moment, but there must have been something to see (perhaps the mountains with snow behind us?). While we didn't stop specifically to see it, we are rewarded with a view of a very large bird soaring in the thermals nearby. Mauri is of the opinion that it is a condor. If it is, I'm glad that it is doing its soaring a little bit away from us, rather than being interested in the exact location we are in. It looks big enough to carry one of us away for a bit of a snack!

A few more kilometres and the road ends suddenly at someone's house! Nobody appears to be at home – certainly if anyone was there, they had little interest in the two hombres on motorbikes parked at their front gate. We climb a little way up the side of the hill and take a seat to enjoy the view across the valley and take in the silence, broken only by the occasional farm animal noise (chooks in particular). It is very serene/idyllic and but for the fact that I didn't have a hat, I could've sat for a long time. At one point, both of us looked at each other and made an "Ommm" kind of sound, before having a bit of a laugh. I think we'd both been thinking pretty much the same kind of thing.

Back on to the bikes and the plan is to blast back to Los Loros for lunch, however when we get there, the restaurant is closed. There is a place opposite that is open but Mauri's crinkled up nose suggests that it might not be the most savoury kind of place for a meal, so after a brief discussion, we agree to head on back to Copiapo and think further from there. We pull into my apartment at around 4pm, pretty late, and I'm certainly starting to feel the worms biting a little bit. Fortunately I have some leftovers from a few days ago – a vegetable and chickpea pie, along with some poached pears for dessert. While we're waiting for the pie to warm up in the oven, we duck downstairs for an icecream – it's such western-style thinking to insist on having ice-cream at the end of the meal, don't you think?

All up, we've covered around 300km today. In the end, it's worked out well and has been good practice for the coming weekend trip to San Pedro. I know I can manage at least 300km in the day without too many problems, even if we didn't start out so well today. It seems I can manage a good half hour or so before wanting to have a stop and a stretch, which isn't so bad. The bike is also proving itself to be quite economical, today returning fuel usage of around 19km/L, so there is a good chance of getting around 400km out of one tank!

Despite thinking that I'll then have a nice quiet evening, catching up on some writing and listening to some tunes, I get a phone call from Alexis indicating that there's to be a BBQ at the Guest House tonight, just for the sake of having a BBQ. It's a dilemma... Another entertaining evening, following another great day.

Saludos!

A

10 September 2010

Hola any and all!

It's been a fairly quiet week – very nice indeed. A bit of cooking at home, and my outings pretty much restricted to a few brief forays to the local Uni-Marc or Lider for food shopping. My one night out was a visit to the casino for dinner with the geo team and a visiting consultant/guru on IOCG systems – Fernando Henriques. Nice man, very short, but smokes like a chimney.

In some respects then, a bit boring, but just what I've needed, although it still doesn't mean I've been to bed before midnight. I'm planning my trip to San Pedro de Atacama for the coming long weekend (17-20^th). It's looking like I'll cover about 2,000km, but will be worth every second, as the San Pedro area is (apparently) a major tourist highlight in this part of the world, with the usual snow-clad mountains and volcanoes – Licancabur being the close one – but also a historic town, Valle de la Luna, El Tatio geysers, thermal pools, Salar de Atacama, a couple of lagoons, some astronomical sites (radio telescopes) and a meteorite crater, not to mention riding past some of the worlds largest copper mines (Chuquicamata and Escondida).

I'm going to get a bit more practice in riding long distances with a blat along the Copiapo Valley to the south of town tomorrow with Mauricio. Lizette is away for the weekend, so the boys are out to play! I'll report in tomorrow.

Saludos.

A

4 September 2010

I've had another lazy Saturday morning in bed which was absolutely fantastic, culminating in not getting up (properly) and having breakfast until just after 11AM! While having breakfast, I was deciding what to do with the second half of the day. As usual, it seemed necessary to do something with the bike and enjoy the fresh air and weather away from the city limits. The big question was therefore mountains or coast.

I'm not exactly sure what the tipping point was, but the coast won out. It was probably reports that the flowers were really starting to get going now, which would be great to see. The mountains will still be there when the flowers have finished their life-cycle, albeit probably without snow. No matter, the coast it is.

The section I am interested in today is to the west and southwest of Copiapo, then down to the port town of Huasco. I've been to Huasco once before and while nice, going there is most definitely about the journey rather than the destination, There are options for returning to Copiapo after that, so I might just play that by ear, depending on how much time is left in the day. Admittedly, leaving Copiapo at mid-day (by the time I get organised) is not leaving myself a huge amount of time, however it should be sufficient and I'm not too worried.

I've bought along a road map that I've purchased for today, rather than making up one of my own with GPS marker points and so on. It shows a number of roads that cross from the main southerly road (good ol' Ruta Cinqo) to the coast. I have not wanted to go to the north and west again, as this will cover a fair bit of ground that I've already seen, and my memory of the maps is that there is a useful road not too far to the south of Copiapo. So, off I go in search of a road that I think I remember from a map. After about 50km, I stop and decide to refresh my memory of the map. Hmmm, the road that I remembered is there alright, although much further south than I remembered, which is why I'm now consulting the map. It looks rather like there should be a road not too far ahead of me, so re-assured, I continue south.

Sure enough, before too long, I spy what looks like a road to the west, although there is some significant road works going on in the vicinity, which includes using the first part of the road, which looks to have the consistency of flour. I pull in and ask the nearest hombre whether this road goes west to the coast. He understands the question, but the blank look on his face indicates "he's not from around here...". Following consultation with a supervisor type of person, they reach the conclusion that no, the road does not go to the coast. I have a suspicion that they are blowing me off, as when I ride away (down the main road), I can see one of those road signs that indicates a route number (that all roads on the map have). Not to worry, as there is another alternative perhaps 20 or so more kilometres south, which ends up in roughly the right kind of place.

The road I am now looking for (Plan C) runs through the village of Totoral, and eventually I find a sign indicating that I'm finally at the turn-off, so onto the dirt at long last. The turn is at roughly the same point as we would turn to the east for our Perro Chico project, but this time there mountains behind the project area are covered in snow, which I haven't seen before.

But on to Totoral! Before long, there is a carpet of flowers on both sides of the road – the same beautiful purples and whites as I've seen elsewhere in the area, clumped in patches of the same colour – just amazing, give only a few months ago there was nothing here but scattered cactus! There is also evidence of a kind of start to the tourist season, with three or four cars with occupants having the same idea as me on this road. We all pull up on much the same section of road to get out and take some pictures, but probably mostly wanting to make sure that if someone else is getting a good photo, then I'm not going to miss out on it as well.

Another couple of k's along and there is a sign indicating some ruins to the south of the road. I initially ignore them because from the turn-off, I can't see what they are about, but looking over my shoulder a bit further down the road reveals an old wooden tower, vaguely in the style of a "poppet head", but without the wheel at the top. I turn around and head back to see – again, 'worried' about whether I'll be missing out on something special if I don't go and check it out. Turning off the road and into the ruins, what would I expect to find? Not at the top of the list, here in the middle of (relatively) not much, is a man walking on the track. He is clearly a Chileno, and has the look of a classic movie hobo! I pull up to say hello and practice a bit of Spanish. He appears to understand, but as per normal, takes my simple questions as indicating that I'm fluent in Spanish and can understand whatever the hell he is mumbling about. Eventually I convince him that I'm from Copiapo and am riding to Huasco for the day, so I really ought to be getting along now, and thanks for the chat. Byeee!

The shape of the wooden tower means that it was never going to be anything other than to do with some mine workings, and sure enough, there's a very significant looking shaft (completely open) underneath it. As I'm sure everyone who turns up here (and at other shafts everywhere else in the world) does, I find a decent-sized rock and throw it in. It crashes and bangs for a long time as it falls downwards, dislodging more and more bits and pieces as it goes. On and on, bang and crash and eventually I can hear nothing more. There hasn't been the big splash that I expected, nor the resounding thud from the end of its free-fall, which is a bit disappointing! Nonetheless, the experiment confirms that the shaft is plenty deep enough such that I don't want to fall in, so I move away to see what else is around. It turns out to be not very much, but one little highlight is in the hanging wall of the main surface workings where the narrow vein has been removed. The large amounts of guano on the wall give its presence away, and I see a birds nest tucked up on the wall. Cool, I thought, and then I looked a bit closer. It was occupied by a bird that blended in remarkably well with its immediate surrounds. It didn't move, in order to not give itself away. As I moved along the opposite side of the workings to try and get a better look, its head slowly tracking my movements, such that I could barely see any movement. After a couple of photo's I give up hope of getting a better look any time soon and move on. I've got a long way to go, and the day is getting away.

As I leave the mine, I feel a little bad about my hobo mate being out here in the middle of nowhere and think that I'll give him a thrill by offering a lift to wherever it is that he is wandering off to, however someone else has beaten me to my good Samaritan deed and he has vanished. On to Totoral then, which turns out to be a tiny village (pueblo) located on the bank of a small spring-fed stream running through a little canyon. Apparently there is quite a bit of agriculture through this part of the world, although from the bottom of the canyon, I can't see it. The village is quite pretty, with small houses right on the edge of the road, many with flowers. It seems to me that the people there are reasonably content with their lot, given their efforts with gardens and flowers. The thing they are probably not so happy about is me thundering through town (the bike DOES thunder, even though I'm only doing about 25kph). Those that are out and about give me the usual stare that I seem to attract and despite my waving hello, I can't help but feel they disapprove of the interruption!

Heading further towards the coast out of town, I have a relatively unusual encounter on my trips – I get to pass a car! It takes a while for the driver to spot me and move over so I can get past in safety, but eventually the transaction is completed and I can carry on. As luck would have it, not long after I made my overtaking move, I arrive at an intersection that I'm not prepared for and can't easily decide which way to go. I stop and consult the map, expecting at any moment for the car to come past and dish out another set of disapproving looks, however they also stop about 100m short of me and ignore me totally, so I'm safe! It turns out the road to the south is the one I want, so off I go again, having a bit of fun in the loose gravel up the hill. I love this thing!

I eventually reach the coast and true to form, viewing conditions are hazy from the damn sea moisture. The coastline here actually features some nice-looking rocky headlands, along with secluded, wave-pounded beaches, which will be fun to explore during the warmer days of summer (despite the sun, the temperature is only about 15 degrees, and the wind is quite strong from the southwest). The map shows the road here as being a dashed pair of lines, so I'm expecting something a little bit "agricultural", but lo and behold, it is a veritable highway. It seems that there is even ongoing work to make it even better, as I soon pass a grader and water truck, doing their thing on a Saturday afternoon!

The next town on the map is Carrizal Bajo, which is another small coastal fishing village and according to the signs, has some historical buildings, no doubt comprising an old wooden church, as seems to be the case in most towns here. Sure enough, there it is. While riding around town, I find a small shop with an advertising board showing that they sell empanadas, with a choice of cheese or shellfish fillings. Excellent, time for lunch with a couple of cheese empanadas and a coke. Perfect! Or so I thought. The shopkeeper was just opening up after his lunch and/or siesta. He greets me with "Hola caballero", which I've heard before, but don't know exactly what it means. I think I remember it being very close to the word for "cowboy" or "rider", and assume that it has everything to do with the fact that I'm on the bike. When our greetings are over, it's down to business. I'll have two cheese empanadas, thanks. Nope, we don't have any, only empanadas with mariscos. But I want cheese ones. Nope, don't have any. OK, not a problem, I'll go elsewhere. Thanks. This type of exchange is not uncommon in the Copiapo area, where extensive and interesting looking menu's turn out to be a wishlist of things that at some point, could well be available, but certainly aren't right at this moment. Despite expecting it, it remains surprising when it happens, frustrating at the time, but amusing (to me) with hindsight.

Carrizal Bajo is also on the northern boundary of the Parque Nacional Llanos de Challe, which according to Wikipedia, this "...fragile coastal desert ecosystem is habitat for rare and beautiful plants species, including the threatened Leontochir ovallei, known locally as Garra de León. In addition to, cactus are abundant in the park. The park is one of the best place for contemplating the natural phenomenon known as Desierto Florido (Flowery Desert), which occurs occasionally as a consequence of El Niño-Southern Oscillation. The park has the largest population of Guanacos in the Atacama Region. Park's seashore and surrounding area feature unspoiled white sand beaches and a coastal wetland, which shelters Common Moorhens, Red-gartered Coots, Black-necked Swans and Flamingos".

The road runs along the relatively narrow strip of coastal plain between the ocean and the coastal hills, which tower several hundred metres over the surrounds. Wikipedia is right, there are cactus everywhere! I also see a guanaco, crossing the road just in front of me with a wild-eyed suicidal dash across the road, and is the first one I have seen in the wild outside of the mountains. I feel pretty excited for having seen it, and completely forget about the possibility of it having a mate heading in the same direction about 10 seconds behind it! With a sudden feeling of panic, I think about the possibility and snap my attention back to the road. Fortunately on this occasion, it doesn't turn out to be the case.

The road to Huasco is pretty straight forward from here, with the only 'highlight' being the amount of cars out for a 'Sunday' drive and heading to the north! A hint of what is to come for the tourist season? It makes a big change from having the roads to myself, so I'll have to pay more attention from now and not as much rubber-necking!

Nothing much has changed in Huasco from my last visit on a weekend – very few people out and about. My first mission, though, is lunch. I head to the restaurant where Alexis and I went last time, and try the one next door (for a change!) 4.30pm, my asking for lunch doesn't raise an eyebrow from the waiter. Despite him babbling away at me, I have the distinct impression that I can understand most of what he is saying. Perhaps not all of the words, but certainly the gist of what he's on about.

Once I've finished, it's back on the bike, fuel up and head east for Vallenar, then north to Copiapo, with only a brief stop on the way at the local artisanal cheese shop on the edge of the road just before Vallenar. Half of an 8-inch round/wheel (I forget what the term is) of goat-cheese and half a one of cow cheese (for the grand total of about A$9) and there's no stopping now until Copiapo, except for one small little wee-wee break and a stretch. I finally get out of the elevator and into my apartment just on 8.30pm. Aaah, home at last.

Any thought of it being peaceful is quickly removed, as there is still music coming from the plaza. It was going last night on the way home from the pub, went all night and was still going when I left this morning. As I think about going down to see what it is about, I check my phone and find a message from Alexis indicating (cryptically) that there were 1,000 cuecas in the Plaza. I don't quite understand, as I thought the cueca was a dance. So, in order to find out what on earth that was about, I head down there. He calls again, indicating he is there too, so we arrange to catch up. He's with his sister and daughter and it turns out that the music is part of the bicentennial fiesta, with Copiapo aiming to have 1000 consecutive cuecas danced over the weekend. They're well into the 900's at this stage, and Alexis CLAIMS he has done his part by dancing a few.

Even though the cueca is a dance between a couple (I get the impression that it is a 'courting' type of dance), there are many couples all dancing at once. The music is a very upbeat folk style and quite good to listen and watch, even though the dance is effectively the same moves every time.

After a nice cup of tea (for me) and a mojito for Alexis and Giselle and a bit of a chat, it's back to the Plaza for cueca # 1000 (hooray!) and on to the Arte Pub (local karaoke joint) until 2AM.

Not surprisingly, I sleep the sleep of the dead. I don't think I moved during the night, I was so tired.

Love to all,

A

3 September 2010

Off to visit the rig this afternoon with Alexis, Juan Carlos and Walter. All signs of the rain in Copiapo on Tuesday have pretty much disappeared, apart from the fact that the roads around town have become a little bit more chopped up – they don't seem to have coped with the water very well!

We need to fuel up before we go, so off we go to the local Copec (something like Gull, for West Australian readers). While we're waiting, a small truck pulls up beside us. It clearly contains livestock of some sort, but we're unable to see what it is, although the animals definitely have hoofs/hooves (spellchecker isn't giving me any hints with the proper way to spell it). There is a bit of a noise from up above us and we look up to see a rather funny site. It takes a few moments to realise what we are seeing is the end of a horses nose and upper lip peeking over the top of the truck as the hose is nibbling away at the top of the wooden sideboards. You'll have to trust me and put your imaginations to work – it was very entertaining, flapping about as it tried to get a good purchase on the wood for a chomp.

Copiapo is situated at roughly 400m above sea level and our destination, Buenaventura, is at about 1,600m, however the route crosses a little pass that has us up to around 1,800m above sea level. I'd never really paid a lot of attention to that, given the presence of 4,000-7,000m high mountains just to the east, but as I keep having to remind myself, in the Australian context, 1,800m is a pretty darn high. I also remember living in a house in Victoria when growing up that was around 900m ASL and it snowing there on occasions. This became relevant about half way to Buenaventura when all of a sudden we rounded a corner and in front of us, hills that I've only ever seen a grey, vegetation-free shapes had been transformed by the snow that fell during the rain event on Tuesday. Yeah, I knew it had been cool in Copiapo, and the guys in from the field that day said it was cold, and had even snowed a little bit, I hadn't absorbed HOW MUCH snow that might have meant on the mountains. Despite a few mild days producing a fairly rapid melt, the amount left was still enough to have me reaching for my phone camera (this being the first day I haven't had my proper cameras with me when travelling). I spend the rest of the drive just staring trying to absorb how different everything looks...

It leaves me with a bit of a dilemma – my weekend was going to involve a ride along the coast to see how the flowers were looking after the recent bursts of rain, however fresh snow is difficult to pass up. Let's see what tomorrow brings – perhaps I'll need to decide by the toss of a coin? Whatever happens, I can't lose!

For Friday night, we're heading out for drinks at a local pub/nightspot called House. We've been before on Wednesday nights and it has been dead, but tonight will be the first Friday night visit that I've made, so it will be interesting to see how it goes. We're getting meet Rodrigo's girlfriend/fiance (Marta) for the first time (he only started with us a month ago), along with one of her friends (Francesca).

Negotiated arrival time for House is 10PM, however true to form, I'm running late and don't get there until about 10:15. The place couldn't be more different from previous visits. People everywhere and limited places to sit. Fortunately Rodrigo has been there early enough to have dinner and has a table, otherwise it would be standing room only!

All in all, it turns out to be a good night. Francesca has pretty good English (which she is studying at one of the local Universities) and both Rodrigo and Marta speak far better than they will admit! It is very nice to talk to some other people about things other than work! Home by about 3AM!!

A

31 August 2010

It's Tuesday morning and all is grey and gloomy here in Copiapo. It is such a change from recent times, when the weather has been like Queensland (beautiful one day, perfect the next...) - cool (but not crisp) mornings, brilliantly azure-coloured skies, no clouds, temperature in the low 20's (celcius). It's actually not too long since I last wrote that it had rained but given the reputation of the area, it is surprising that it might rain again. The local forecast has predicted today would be day of rain for the last week, but who believes weather forecasters?

By the middle of the afternoon and it's been raining since roughly the middle of the day. As per last time, it's not soft drizzly rain, but reasonable drops. The streets have rapidly filled with water and have turned into rivers, which makes quite entertaining watching (from the 6^th floor) of the unfortunate pedestrians trying to navigate their way across them, while dodging the cars that are zooming along and spraying muddy grey sheets of water out from the wheels. I'm rather thankful I'm not out in it!

The rain finally ceases late in the day. Its ended up being quite cold during the day and I'm looking forward to my Indian Spiced Red Lentil "Soup" that I made yesterday, which was so fantastic, I'm going to share the recipe with you at the end of todays blog, however I get an even better offer to have dinner with Mauricio and Lizette, who is threatening to let me try her sopaipillas (sort of a deep fried pastry) and Mauricio is going to make pebre to go with them.

I end up at the company "Guest House" at the end of the day to wash my motorbike, which is dirty after the weekend trip to El Salvador and has been parked here since yesterday waiting for me to wash it. The House is at the western end of town, while the office is in the central part. For almost the entire trip, we'd almost be better off having a boat, there is that much water flowing in the streets, however when we turn off the main road (Ruta Cinqo), the feeder road is dry! It looks like there has been no rain here at all. I'd rather been hoping that the rain would have done most of the job for me, but alas, no luck.

After washing the bike, I head home to get changed, grab some wine and my "soup" to take to Lizette's place and share a bit of it. There is still a lot of water around and having just cleaned the bike, I soon realise that riding it now isn't the smartest move I could've made, as by the time I get to my apartment, the whole thing is covered in mud and sand that has been washed onto the roads. Back to Lizette's and it is very dark, quite cold and in some parts of town, the river/roads are still flowing. On the narrow streets, water maybe 10cm deep, I imagine the smiling faces of the car drivers as they go past in the opposite direction, spraying sheets of water at me from their wheels!

Lizette's sopaipillas live up to the hype, as do Mauri's pebre. Delicious! Next, it's time to introduce my hosts to the spiced lentil "soup". Lizette is a brave soul and will try most things I cook (in fact, I don't think she has refused anything so far?), but even she is looking at it a bit doubtfully. A small taste, then a slightly larger taste and she is hooked, threatening to eat the whole lot and leave me with nothing! Mauri takes a bit of cajoling, but he tries a little bit in the end, but is a bit concerned about it. Spicy food is not really his game!

Eventually, the food is gone, the wine is gone, and it's time to go home to bed.

Before I go, the recipe follows;

 

Indian spiced red lentil soup

 

Ingredients ( serves 4 )

1 tablespoon vegetable oil

1 brown onion, finely chopped

1/4 cup korma curry paste

1 litre salt-reduced vegetable stock

400g can diced tomatoes

2/3 cup red lentils, rinsed (personally, I skip the rinsing, as they just turn into red mush, and a lot of the colour disappears down the sink)

1/4 cup pearl barley, washed

1/2 cup chopped fresh coriander leaves

Crusty bread, to serve

Method

1. Heat oil in a large saucepan over medium-high heat. Add onion. Cook, stirring, for 3 to 4 minutes or until softened. Add curry paste. Stir to combine.

2. Stir in stock, tomato, lentils and barley. Cover. Bring to the boil. Reduce heat to low. Simmer for 20 to 25 minutes or until barley is tender. Divide between bowls. Top with coriander. Serve with bread.

30 August 2010

It's Monday night and I've gone to bed and, as usual, fall asleep very quickly. I wake at about 1.30AM and quickly realise what it is that has woken. There's a couple of idiots having a chat out in the street, and despite the fact that I'm on the fifth floor of the building, it seems like they are just outside my window.

After waiting for a few minutes and trying to get back to sleep, it seems they aren't going anywhere and I'm now annoyed enough that it is bothering me. Drat and bother.

I grab my glasses and go to the windows to try and understand why on Earth anyone would think it a good idea to be having a long chat at this time of night. As I pull the curtains apart enough to discretely look out, the reason becomes clear. Two of the three individuals are clearly not "ordinary citizens". One in particular is in a spectacularly short skirt, long blonde hair cascading everywhere, and seems to be talking the loudest. The other is in high heels, but dressed more sensibly, at least wearing jeans and a half decent top. The third is a man, fairly non-descript and seems to be just part of the chatting.

A more thorough inspection of the blonde in the short skirt leads quickly to the conclusion that all might not be as it appears. Let me see. Very broad shoulders and not the most feminine voice in the world, facial features that aren't quite feminine. Hmmm, definitely suspicious!

So, I decide to capture the moment and then go back to bed. Camera on, zoomed in and subjects framed appropriately, night-shot setting selected, focus completed, then squeeze the shutter button. There is a click as the flash pops open and the whole room lights up as the flash explodes with its burst of bright white light. I'd overlooked that one little thing that would've enabled me to complete the exercise discretely - turn the automatic flash off! Doh! I look out into the street in the hope that they haven't noticed, but clearly they have. All three are looking in my direction and the blonde gives me a cheeky little wave.

Serves me right I guess. Back to bed, feeling slightly foolish at the whole exercise, and I sleep like a baby until the morning.

Chao chao,

A

28 & 29 August 2010

There is a mining town approximately 200km to the northeast of Copiapo called "El Salvador". As usual for this part of the world, it's a copper mine, but unlike most of the towns here, for some reason (presumably a sponsorship deal) it has its own football side in the Chilean national league. As a result of that, it has its own good quality stadium, which allegedly holds around 20,000 people, substantially more than the entire population of the town! This weekend, the local team (Cobresal) were playing a team from Santiago, Universidad Catolica.

Lizette and her husband were definitely going, due to Mauricio being a Universidad Catolica fan, and he wasn't going to miss out on seeing his team play when they were so close, and Alexis was keen to go in order to visit his brother who works there. He'd also spent time working there in the past, and was keen to catch up with some friends. I was invited to come along, which was the perfect opportunity to unleash the bike on a good long distance run over the weekend.

To get to El Salvador, there are a couple of options. The most obvious is via the bitumen road to the north via the towns of Inca de Oro and Diedgo de Almagro. Inca is tiny, but has a claim to fame in at least astronomical circles, in that a large telescope array is located here (which was in the news recently for a discovery that was made by it). Diego is a town located at a cross roads, but is at least locally important as a staging point for copper being transported to the coast from various mines in the area. Neither of them are particularly beautiful, but for me, Inca has more character, despite being much more obviously poor. It also has the largest speed bumps in the main street that I've encountered here in Chile (so far)!

The other option is to go via the Andes, which adds significantly to the appeal of the weekend. I've been on the first part of the route before, but in a 4WD, perhaps 2 months ago now, so it is definitely time to renew my acquaintance with those mountains, and especially on the bike. I've spent the last couple of days slowly getting myself organised for the trip. Boots, jacket, pants and gloves suitable for the cold of the mountains, along with my swag (in case something goes amiss and I have to camp out overnight), 10L of spare fuel, spare clothes for tomorrow and a heap of water to avoid dehydration in the dry air. The panniers on the bike swallow up all of the stuff with room left over, except of course for the swag, which is far too large. It gets strapped to the seat behind me, which turns out to be an extremely satisfying benefit, as it is in the perfect position to double as a very comfortable back rest, as well as prompting a good riding position.

My final preparations take the form of loading my GPS with a series of waypoints for areas that look like they might have confusing intersections on the Google Earth imagery, plus making some maps of the route and leaving them with my rescue team (Alexis). The bike has a 12V power outlet built into the dash, so the GPS can be connected to that all day, with no worries about batteries. I have to carry it in my pocket, which is a small hassle for reading it as I travel along, so I'll have to investigate buying a proper holder at some point!

The road heads north out of Copiapo towards Inca, but then turns east towards the Paso Sanfrancisco (and Argentina) and the bitumen disappears. The dirt road is in excellent condition, and soon enough, the valley narrows and I'm winding my way amongst the mountains. It really is difficult to rave too much about how starkly beautiful the mountains are, and I find myself travelling quite slowly so that I can take it all in. I realise quite how slowly I'm going when I get overtaken by a 4WD drive ute from one of the mines along the route, showering me with dust and a little gravel.

The road winds onwards and upwards, and with the slow travel and frequent stops for photo's water and a bit of a stretch, I reckon I might be a bit late for getting to El Salvador in time for the game, which is at 4PM (I'd planned to leave Copiapo at 9AM, but didn't get away until about 10). Not to worry, as long as I get there before dark, which would trigger concern amongst the rescue team!

The day has turned out to be quite pleasantly warm in the lower parts of the valley, particularly when I'm in the sun, however when I'm in the shade, it is quite cool, so I'm very thankful for the good equipment I have, and even more so as I climb into the high altitudes. At around 3,500m I find the first ice on the edge of the road, thankfully not in the middle of it! The road continues to climb and tops out at around 4,100m. I suffer no effects from the altitude, which is fortunate. It wouldn't be the most pleasant experience to have to ride another 200 or so kilometres with a pounding headache!

One of the sections of the route contains a particularly interesting series of switch-backs along the road, reducing me to first gear around the hairpins (see the track route picture from the GPS), and right in the middle of it all, what did I find? I bloody great bus, heading in the same direction as me. It was about the last thing I'd expected to see, and gave me quite a shock to start with, but at least it was going in the same direction. It would have been a rude surprise to find it coming straight at me around one of the corners!

I wound my way down off the heights to the next plain at about 3,500m, where the Salar de Maricunga is located. This is a quite amazing salt lake with spectacular surrounding mountains. It also has a border control point for inspection and processing of those pesky little passport things, so I'll be turning off this route before I get to having to negotiate that little problem! Fortunately, there is an escape route that I can take without a problem.

The road I take heads to the north, and the Salar de Pedernales. Alexis rated this salt lake pretty highly as well, so I was looking forward to seeing it. The road contained a few little surprises, with occasional patches of soft "bulldust" ready to trap the unwary traveller. That would be me, particularly for the first one, which I barreled into at about 90 kph after going over a small crest. Major wobbles and a little bit of a fright, but I was out of it soon enough and with confidence suitably pricked, I was now on the lookout for these patches, and negotiated the rest of them without a problem.

The valley contains patches of the most extraordinarily coloured grass - a vivid yellow/orange kind of colour that forms a wonderful contrast with the blue sky and grey mountains. A little further along and I can see a beautiful cone-shaped mountain directly ahead, and before too long there is a sign indicating that it is the Dona Ines (pronounced Donya In-ezz) volcano. It would have to be one of the better shaped volcanoes in the world, at least from this angle!

I eventually arrive at the Salar de Pedernales and will have to disagree with Alexis about its beauty. Sure, it is not so bad, especially with Dona Ines in the background, but I'd rate Maricunga much more highly. Pedernales is very wind-swept, as evidenced by the large amounts of salt dust that extend beyond the actual margins of the lake. There are the usual types of signs here, indicating to people that they would be quite silly to attempt to drive on the surface of the lake, no matter how tempting it might actually look!

The road swings to the west here and passes through an area that on the satellite imagery looks like it might be a bit difficult to negotiate, however those concerns are ill-founded, as the road is in brilliant condition and there are even a couple of road signs to keep me headed in the direction of El Salvador.

Another 20 or so k's and I come to what can best be described as a precipice! I have to get from the top of the plain to the bottom of the valley, which the closer I get, the deeper I realise it is. The road is literally carved into the side of the hill and does a series of long switch backs to get to the bottom. I estimate that in the next few kilometres, I'll be dropping down a good 400-500m. The scale is just awesome. As I'm snapping some photo's, another traveller and his father stop and ask if I'm OK. I proudly rattle off everything that I'm up to (in Spanish) and get happy nods in response, along with wishes of "good luck" (in English). It's coming along slowly, but I'm getting there...

Down into the valley, before long I come across a train line that services one of the mines here and shortly after that, an old "refueling and water" point for the STEAM trains that once ran along the route. In the absolute middle of nowhere, it comes as quite a surprise!

Not much further to El Salvador now, and through a series of intersections with a variety of trucks to avoid, I begin the climb out of the valley and up to El Salvador, which is situated at about 2,200m (from memory), pretty much about the height of Mt Kosciuzsko.

I finally roll into El Salvador just before 3PM and after receiving instructions, make my way to Alexis' brothers house, to be greeted by Lizette and Mauricio. In all, it's taken about 5 hours to travel 350km, but I've loved just about every minute of it. I'm feeling a little bit stiff, but nothing a little walk and stretch won't fix. The bike has done brilliantly. Very comfortable with the weight of my gear on the back (it's a bit too firm without it, so I'll have to figure out how to adjust the suspension), and all done without the need for the extra fuel. The tank only holds 20L, so it's looking like the fuel economy is excellent!

I'm well pleased with myself so far, and after meeting Solidad and Ayilen (Edward is at work), we settle down to lunch. Solidad (Alexis' sister-in-law) is a pocket dynamo - very short, highly organised and efficient, and talks at a million miles per hour, such that I struggle to follow anything she says. She has also prepared food especially for me, which is extremely kind.

It turns out that Alexis is not yet here in El Salvador because one of the team has managed to roll one of our utes this morning, resulting in some signficant damage, however the people are OK, with barely any scratches. Sounds like a lot of luck for all concerned except Alexis, who has had to stay back to try and investigate the whole thing in conjunction with our safety advisor and organise for replacement bits and pieces. He'll still be here, but not until later this afternoon/evening.

At 4PM, we head down to the stadium to watch the game. Due to my late arrival, we miss the start of the game by a few minutes, but no matter, there has been no score. A ticket to the galleries costs about A$11 and we're soon settled down to watch, however we've chosen seats that look directly into the sun, so after a few minutes, we decide to move to the other side of the ground - a good move, as the sun has some bite at this altitude and despite the sunscreen, I'm not keen on the "Le Lobster" look.

Cobresal are apparently about 7th on the league ladder and Catolica are 2nd, however it is only early in the season. Catolica certainly don't look the better side, with Cobresal showing much more enthusiasm for attacking attempts, although with perhaps slightly less skill?

The game is being played to a soundtrack of live music and singing provided by the crowd at one end of the ground, and it's all very festive. The crowd are, as you might expect, largely in favour of Cobresal, and it is they who score first with a lovely attacking move. This brings celebrations from the partison crowd, but the happiness is relatively short-lived as Catolica level the score soon afterwards. There is an expectation that Catolica might go on with it now and break away, however the opposite eventually turns out to be true, with Cobresal delivering another goal to go ahead 2-1, and then topping it off with yet another for a 3-1 win over the favourites. It's been a very entertaining game, both on the field and off. I must ensure I make it to see a game in Santiago some time.

Back at Edward and Solidad's house, Alexis and Giselle (his sister) have finally arrived. Mauricio and Lizette head back to Copiapo pretty much straight away. I settle in to the couch and get Spanish lessons from Ayilen (8 and a half years old), Giselle and another little boy (Diego) who is being looked after for the afternoon. Edward eventually makes it home from work and there is much chatting and catch-up until nearly night.

At about 11.30PM, Alexis and I head out for dinner at a local club (something vaguely like an RSL?), which features possibly the worst "public" toilets I have come across so far in Chile. I can't bring myself to write about them at the moment, but suffice to say, it doesn't look like the cleaners spend much of their time in there during their daily rounds.

After dinner, we decide to investigate a local bar, but end up in a smoke-filled disco. We spend the next couple of hours trying to chat over the doof-doof music about which of the girls here Alexis will marry (he's set himself the optimistic target of being married by the end of the year), but in the end, it is all to no avail and we head off at around 2.30AM.

Despite going to bed relatively late, I'm awake by about 8.30AM, although I do manage to doze a little before finally getting up. I'm not sure if I've managed to wake everyone else up, or we've all been lying there quietly (and futilely) such that we don't wake the others up, but my rising seems to have prompted everyone else to be up. Alexis has plans to cook breakfast for all, which sounds great, but requires a little bit of shopping, so off we go.

Visit # 1 goes quite smoothly, with the exception of getting 'home' and finding that we've forgotten some of the keys ingredients we went for.

Visit # 2 is nearly as smooth, except for the fact that the checkout queues are now much longer. So, less items, longer time.

Visit # 3 (which I'm responsible for) is an unmitigated disaster, as for the two items I'm buying, it takes the longest time yet - a good 20 minutes in the queue. It seems like the entire population of El Salvador is here at the supermarket. Along with that, some of the local peanut brigade manage to hold up the process by requiring that their entourage arrive from locations around the shop, push their way through the queue and add their bits and pieces to the entire lot. Even when they are through paying for their stuff, they hold things up further by standing in the way of the next people trying to get through and refusing to move while they idly chat. They can be particularly inconsiderate...

Eventually, breakfast is done and dusted just before mid-day. Alexis proves himself a dab hand in the kitchen with a grand omelette, which goes down a treat! After that, it's time to head for the various local lookouts around town to get an overview of things here. In some respects, I'm reminded of the Pilbara, although the mountains aren't quite as high and I can't recall too many snow-capped volcanoes there!

We also make a visit to a friend of Alexis' who has had a baby a couple of months ago such that he can give her a present, but also to catch up with some other family members in another room that I didn't get to meet. I hang with Giselle and pull faces at the baby, who responds with a mixture of apparent amusement, followed by looks of concern at the weirdo in front of him. Despite being offered the opportunity of having a hold, I refrain. Screaming babies aren't really my scene - your own are OK, those of other people are a bit much, especially those that howl in a foreign language... I also have a 100% record for not having ever dropped a baby, which I'm keen to keep.

Lunch rolls around rather later than one might expect, completed some time after 4PM! The day is drifting away, and I'm starting to get a bit worried about the ride I have ahead of me having to be completed at least partially in the dark. Getting myself organised takes a little while with the various bits and pieces to put in the right places and of course once I have everything nicely organised, I find the last little piece of the puzzle that I've forgotten and needs to go in the box that is the hardest to get to. I have a little smile to myself and resort to plan B. Alexis can take the extra bits back for me in the ute. Ha ha!

Finally I'm underway at about 5PM and after refuelling (350km on 18L - 19.1 k's per L - awesome), it is off to the west, riding (directly) into the setting sun. I knew there was a reason I'd planned to get away earlier! After a ride along the plain, we go through another set of fabulous switchbacks to get to the bottom of the valley, but this time the road is sealed. Despite being tempted to turn around and head back up, I carry on again towards Diego. Not the most scenic of roads that you'll come across in Chile, but not so bad either. Before long, it's time to turn left towards Inca and once I'm out of town, it's time for a few final snaps of the scenery before the fading light renders photography impossible. Bugger, but I reckon I've got a good hour and a half to go before Copiapo and it's pretty much dark. Still, I guess there's not as much risk to riding in the dark here - no suicidal kangaroos/sheep/cows etc to watch out for!

The speed humps of Inca again reduce me to first gear to get over them, however once I'm through town, there aren't any more serious distractions until I get to the lights of Copiapo, although at one of the high passes, I notice the cold enough to check out the ambient temperature on the bike's screen, which indicates just under 13 degrees. Not too bad, but it's certainly much nicer when I drop down a few hundred metres and it climbs to 15 degrees.

Back in Copiapo, I refuel the bike and head for my apartment. I'm pretty tired, but reflecting on where I've been and what I've seen, I'm a pretty happy camper. I unpack, put everything away, have a nice hot shower and collapse into bed, sleeping the sleep of the dead until the alarm goes off in the morning...

Hope your weekends are just as much fun for you.

A