Another night of not sleeping so well, but this time due to outside influences rather than my own personal demons and imaginations. When I went to bed, I knew that Cristobal and some of the others had plans to carry on partying, however it seems that they decided to do this by driving the 4WD in and out of the compound all night (or so it seemed). Unfortunately for me, the gate to the compound is about 5m from my swag, so it was a bit noisy. Nonetheless, I don't feel too bad this morning, having woken at about 7.30AM. My best sleep was definitely from about 5.30 to 7.30…
I contemplate breakfast of muesli and bran again, but decide to spoil myself by breakfasting at one of the café's in town. Nobody else is up and about, so I wander off by myself to see what I can find. After a series of random choice amongst the streets, I find myself out the front of the Coyote Café, complete with a motif of Wile E. on the front (for those that don't understand this, think about the Road Runner…). They're open, which is a good start, although no-one else in there is perhaps not the best sign. Perhaps they've already been and gone, and I'm late? Not to worry, the menu board looks good, so I'm prepared to risk it. I'm happy with the choice – freshly squeezed orange juice, a very tasty omelet, some toast and a cup of tea. Perfecto.
One the way back to the guest house, I realize I'll need some water for the day, so I visit a little shop to buy some. On my entrance, I'm assailed by the mouthwatering smell of freshly arrived empanadas. Normally they don't have that kind of effect on me, but these ones contain tomato, cheese and basil, which is an unusual mixture. I suspect it is the basil that has got to me, and I can't resist ordering two, thinking I'll share on with Cristobal when I am back. It's only about a 500m walk, but seems to take forever. Despite my earlier breakfast, I can't wait to tuck in to an emapanada.
It turns out to be delicious, and the other one is still sitting there. No sign of Cris yet, so it's not looking good for him, I'm afraid. I start on the second one and despite struggling a bit in the second half, I pull through and suddenly, like magic, it's gone.
So, what to do with the rest of the day. I'd hinted to the gang that I'd leave them in peace for the day, and perhaps catch up again this afternoon or tonight for another BBQ. This time, I'd be organized enough to make some kind of contribution in terms of some wine, rather than my previous free-loading experience. But, in the meantime, my choices were extensive. I eventually decided I might take a run to the east and have a look at the Licancabur volcano, which towers over the town, on the other side of the valley. I'd prepared a map and some GPS points for some tracks here, however I'd managed to leave it behind in Copiapo, so I might have to do it from memory. Not optimal, but not impossible. First things first though. I need fuel.
The Copec in San Pedro is not in the main street of town, but according to the map I have, shouldn't be too hard to find, although my initial complication is that the street I want is on the opposite side of the town centre, which is a pedestrian-only area. I've not been super organized this morning, thinking it would only take a few minutes to get there and fuel up, so my gloves are on the dashboard of the bike. As I bump through the rough streets, one of them falls down. It takes a few moments to realize, and I can hear a toot of a horn behind me. I stop and turn my head to see another motorcyclist picking it up for me. He joins me a few moments later and hands it over. I thank him and we discuss that I'm off to get fuel, and so, it turns out, is he. He offers to show me the way.
We wind our way though a rabbit warren of little roads and eventually arrive. There's no way I would've found my way here without help, so again, I'm in the position of having to thank my local rescuer. His name is Andres, which given my name, we both find amusing. While we're waiting in the queue, we get chatting. He, again, has sufficient English to do most of the conversation in that language. It turns out he is residential here in San Pedro and runs motorbike tours. There are a couple of other blokes on bikes behind Andres, so it appears he is in the process of seeing them off. I try to leave him in peace, but ask a question about where to find the road to Paso Jaco (another border crossing into Argentina). Andres very kindly offers to show me the way. In fact, he is going for a ride to the north this afternoon to check out some routes for his tours, and I'd be welcome to join him. By this stage, my plans had evolved to wanting a relaxed day, so I politely decline that offer, however I'd appreciate the offer of guidance to the frontier road.
The road turns out to be one that I'd ridden past yesterday afternoon as we road into San Pedro, but I'd been so tired that I hadn't really noticed it. Andres points me in the right direction when we stop, and also points out the land to the north of the road, which was where I could see a track heading to the north of Licancabur (the one I'd planned to take). The land, he says, is heavily mined (of the anti-personnel type used during wars). It is not possible to go there in safety. I can't believe how fortunate I've been in meeting Andres. There is no way I would've known about this and would've ridden off into there without a moment's thought. By this time, he also says that he might come with me, as his plans aren't really full for the day. Sounds good to me. My idea is only to ride for about 40-50k's, check out the scenery, then return to San Pedro for lunch.
The road climbs from the valley at about 2300m (from memory – San Pedro is quite high!) and keeps on going up. It winds back and forth, with not a single bit of downhill until I hit about 4500m altitude (according to the GPS). It is extraordinary. Brillkiant road, huge volcano's all around and oooh, now look, off to the left is a pair of high altitude salars (Laguna Blanco and Laguna Verde – not an original name, a bit like finding a Bald Hill in Australia) just over the border in Bolivia, complete with awesome mountains behind them. The road now looks like it runs along a plateau and into the distance. The wind is howling and it's cold. I certainly haven't come expecting this, so I stop and add some layers. I also get some pictures and wonder where Andres has got to. It's not long before he turns up, having stopped to add some layers himself. We discuss whether to continue along the highway, but I express an interest in seeing the border with Bolivia. Andres knows the way to go, so off we go.
The border crossing is well used by tourists from San Pedro crossing over to visit the salars, so it comes complete with an "office" of the Bolivian immigration people. Being without a valid passport, it isn't an option for me to duck over, so I have to content myself with my sly efforts in visiting Bolivia. You see, the immigration office is located about 20m into Bolivia past the marker post right on the border. So, we ride past the marker, and park the bikes. I get off and take photo's, unfortunately forgetting to include the marker in any of them. I can therefore say that I've been to Bolivia in the course of the day, although unfortunately I don't have a passport stamp to show for it. I do have the photo's though. He he he.
Back we go to town. The road down is just as much fun as coming up, and the scenery to the west is almost as stunning as that to the east, minus the volcano's. All too soon, we're down again, and the temperature is warm, at least mid 20's. Time for lunch, and I've offered to take Andres for lunch in return for his help. He has suggested a small restaurant, but when we get there, I realize that I don't have anything else but motorbike gear on, so I suggest ducking back to the guest house and I'll get changed. No probs, off we go.
At the house, Cristobal has surfaced. The Chilean way of saying that you're a bit hungover is to put your hand vertically in the middle of your forehead and say something about a tomahawk being buried in there. Cris is definitely feeling a bit seedy… He indicates that he and some of the gang are going for lunch in a few minutes, and would I like to join them? I explain my situation and suggest that maybe Andres could come too, which isn't a problem. I discuss with Andres, Cris discusses the location, and Andres ducks off to get changed as well.
Lunch is excellent – refreshing salads – just the thing in the warmth and after a big night. Cris, Hector, Maria Jose and Andres, plus me. Another little place I wouldn't ever have found, but very good.
My plans for after lunch have evolved again, with thoughts about visiting the hot springs, Valle de Luna and so on all having evaporated, not to mention a long ride to the north with Andres. Cris and the gang are heading to a salt lake to do some floating in the hypersaline water. If it's cold, there's no way I'm going!
Andres had earlier suggested that there was a local swimming pool called Pozo Tres, which was good. I asked if it was hot or cold, and he said it was at around 20 or so degrees. Sounds OK to me, so I might head there for the afternoon. After negotiation of the entrance guard and coughing up the fee (about A$3), I changed and headed for the pool. Looking a bit dodgy in comparison to most Australian swimming pools, nonetheless it was pretty busy with lots of people in there. As I stepped into the water, I realized that water of about 20 or so degrees is pretty darn cold, but I was here now, and up to my knees, so there was pretty much not turning back. Once you were in for a while, it wasn't so bad, however after 30 minutes or so, I was chilled enough to get out and stand in the late afternoon sun to warm up a bit. Having done that, there was no way I was going back in. The cold water had been good for my aching muscles, but now, I'd had enough. I don't know how those athletes manage to cope with ice baths. I suppose it is something you get used to, but I imagine the first time or two must be pretty hard to deal with!
Back in San Pedro, I do some touristing through the streets again, not to mention buying some plonk for tonight. I am also off on an astronomical tour tonight, running for a couple of hours, after which I'll join in on tonights BBQ. I get everything organized with my swag and other camping arrangements while there is still some light. Once everything is finished, I sit down and relax for a bit. It's at this time, I realize I'm in love. At last nights BBQ, there was a young girl who had shown a bit of interest in me. I had given her a bit of a cuddle, but she had disappeared later in the evening, so I didn't have the chance to say goodnight. I'd seen her again this morning, but she didn't show too much interest in me, but now, she was everywhere that I was. Fickle things, are cats!
We have a bit more of a cuddle and a scratch behind the ears leaves her purring away quite happily. I'm very happy with the world, as it's been a long time since I've had a cuddle with a cat, given that VV is allergic. It's a nice feeling.
I have to be down at the astronomical tour office before 7.30PM, so I'm there at 7.20PM. Just me. By myself. At about 7.28PM, almost everyone else on the tour turns up, en-masse. I'd been promised the tour was to be in English when I booked, however apparently I was the only person requiring an English tour, and everyone else was Spanish-speaking, so they'd decided to change it. They'd definitely do one in English tomorrow night, if I'd prefer to come back then. Sorry, but I'm leaving tomorrow, no can do, so Spanish it will have to be. It's a bit rude, I reckon, to change like that, but the realities are that I'm in a Spanish speaking country, so I'll make the best of it I can tonight.
We're bussed off to the "observatory" at around 7.35PM, whereon we're herded into an Octagonal building, lit by one candle. We wait for Alain to arrive and begin the night. He is an astronomer from France who moved here many years ago and has now set up the largest private observatory in South America (I think). We get a long chat about the history of astronomy, which I can follow sufficiently, mostly because of having done a history of astronomy course at uni. All very interesting, but I'm afraid I can't quite follow the jokes he does in Spanish. I enjoy listening to him because he isn't a native Spanish speaker, which means he pronounces his words clearly and separately and doesn't use the local slang.
We go outside to look at the sky. The moon, being half full, makes the sky a bit difficult to see, but we're given a guided tour of the major stars, constellations and planets by a very engaging character. It would be a lot of fun to understand all of his talk, but I get enough of it to have a smile every now and again. Eventually, we get to the telescopes. He has about 10 of them, varying in size and designs, scattered about his year. We get to look through all of them, each pointed at different things. The highlight for me is the big telescope pointed at the moon. He points out the landing site of Apollo 11. I'm very happy with the picture he takes through the telescope for me. Although the whole night hasn't been remotely as I'd expected it, it's turned out OK and I have enjoyed it.
Next though, it's time for another BBQ. It seems the BBQ is at another location tonight – being hosted by some girls that Cris and the gang know from Antofagasta. Again, food is excellent, wine is great, and the conversation is a lot of fun. We all leave at around midnight (from memory) and I retire to my swag. Cristobal promises not to drive in and out of the yard all night tonight…
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