Chile to the end

Apologies for the lack of update on the rest of my time in Chile. I last left you in Antofogasta. I had sore rear end and a hand that wouldn't straighten out.

From my arrival on Thursday afternoon, I was taken to dinner with Pamela's friends where we organised to go to San Pedro near Calama in the east of Chile. After 4 hours by bus the next we had one small problem: it was a national holiday that weekend and the towns hotels were packed out. Luckily we managed to talk our way into the owners on site accommodation and went to dinner. There was one other small problem that night. The power had been cut to the town for the past week. It seems to be a problem most were ready for with most hotels having generators going and the rest used fires to keep light and warmth. Refrigeration was not a problem I can tell you that for certain.

The next day Pamela and I were picked up by a tour bus. First stop was the flamencos. Telephoto lenses are great but you need to be either very stable or use a tripod. From there we went to around 4200m above sea level where the volcanoes had blocked a river and created a couple of lagoons. The photo of Pamela only just does justice to the cold that the wind pushed through any clothes you might have. One older gent from Germany was quite happy in his pants and jumper but we grabbed any clothes we had and put them on.

After visiting a couple of the local communities we returned to San Pedro to find a bus ride back to Antofogasta. There is an exodus of many of the community values in much of Chile. Mining money means the communal maintenance of irrigation channels has been forgotten. Tourism provides a means to try and maintain some of that history but the line between culture and culture for tourism is somewhat blurred.

Antofogasta is a mining port it is the major centre for people working at the mines. Tourism in Antofogasta is pretty much non-existent but when much of the town is only 200 years old history hasn't been the major factor of places like Santiago or San Pedro. Because of the lack of things to see I was told Santiago was the place to go, and Pamela's sister was going back to study there so she could help me out and practice her English. (Much of Chile can tell you one or two words in English but you will find the younger ones either have studied it in school or have learnt it from television.)

Antofogasta did have one highlight though I was introduced to Saint Expidito. http://www.misanexpedito.com.ar/?p=16&cp=22
The Patron of Causes Urgent. Everything is urgent in the west

Crossing the desert by route 5 is an exercise in fuel calculations, drafting trucks and buses and generally trying to maintain some interest in the road ahead. The odd set of switchbacks to drop down the other side of a mountain gave me at least one highlight that day. Chanaral proved to be the fuel stop I should have made on my way up as it was just near the turn off between El Salado and route 5. Mainly a place to stay on the way to somewhere else the main square provided little interest other than the two stray dogs guarding the church.

With only 5 hours in the saddle La Sarena was the next opportunity for tourism. The region from Copiapo south had learned the value of the tourist with all sorts of signs appearing for this scenic spot and that winery. Those sorts of things didn't excite me that much so I kept going. Copiapo was the first serious sign of agriculture as it had found itself an old river bed to settle in. Vallena provided a burger that was loaded with Avocado. And the road along the coast had begun to be scenic with rocks, grass, flowers and cliffs surrounding various small towns.

Once at La Serena I went for walk through town. The museum had a couple of shrunken heads (that just looked like heads of children) and an old whale hunting boat in it. Well kind of, two leather bladders and a couple of pieces of wood supported one hunter while he tried to spear the whale.... The old churches were interesting but if only for the contrasting lack of decoration with every other historic church so far. A hastily organised observatory tour kept me up till late, as was a conversation with Paul a Scotsman travelling on his own whose Spanish was possibly worse than mine.

Santiago was much more interesting. After arriving into town late I found my way back to Bernard O'Higgins Avenue to find the hotel I stayed at on my first night in Chile and hopefully find my MP3 player cables. A side note is that the first president of Chile was an Irishman.... After no success I hotfooted through traffic much to the amazement of many Chileans whose idea of a bike is a Chinese 250. Again I was late and hadn't called but my guide was happy to see me alive. Because her house was on the other side of town I got to sit through a Spanish French class and a cancelled Spanish English class.

In the morning we tried our luck and managed to get a seat on the bus to Valle Nevado. My first introduction to snow was on the side of the road while the driver put snow chains on. Upon reaching the hotel we organised a ski lesson for the afternoon and relaxed for a while. While I was choking on the cost of the lessons, I was later to find out it was at least half the price you would pay in Australia.

In typical South American style the bus home was late so we missed one of my hosts classes. She wasn't too worried so after class we caught up with a couple of her friends for dinner (around midnight we left the apartment it was a late meal).

Saturday we rose to visit an art gallery literally across the road from Rayyen's apartment. This was followed by a visit to the mercardo (In Chile while the outside of the market may in fact sell fresh food the centre is filled with restaurants). A visit to Pablo Neruda's third house in Santiago was somewhat lost on me till it was put in the context of him as Chilean political activist as much as a poet.

Another trip to the airport and back to Lima for the trip to Cusco on the Monday.