Onwards to South America (Santiago, Chile)


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October 7th 2015
Published: October 10th 2015
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Arriving in SantiagoArriving in SantiagoArriving in Santiago

Bleary eyed but happy to get there with our stuff intact.
Greetings folks, from Santiago, Chile, where Fi and I arrived on Wednesday morning (6th Oct15). From here, we intend to take a train about 200 miles south where we will begin riding again. As you may know, we spent a few days in San Diego, just long enough for us to do a few necessary errands, tune up our bicycles, and for me to get a bad hair cut (my first after having retired from the Coast Guard). I won´t gripe about it too much, but when I thought that I had asked the barber to "just neaten it up a bit without making it too short," I must have actually said, "cut my hair as if I were a donkey and make me look like a Where´s Waldo mental patient." Assuming that that´s what I actually requested, or if this is what she actually heard, or she just didn´t like me, then she did a great job. My impressive coiff is also now forever immortalized on my new veteran ID card. But I digress. Although our time in San Diego was short and hectic, we did have time to meet up with some friends - Scott & Sabrina, Steve &
Back in the boxesBack in the boxesBack in the boxes

Breaking down the bikes in San Diego for our flight to Santiago, Chile.
Melanie, Anna & Catherine, and Cheryl & Eric - which we really enjoyed.



Flying out of Los Angeles for an overnighter through Lima, Peru and arriving in Santiago, we kind of knew that Tuesday and Wednesday were going to suck, which they did, however some advice I´d offer anyone travelling by plane to South America would be to fly LAN Airlines. They really do things right, and most of their planes are pretty new. In contrast, I once flew on an internal flight in Haiti in the not-so-distant past where my ticket and boarding pass were hand-written (because the airport terminal had no electricity) and the onboard safety announcement was for an airline that had been out of business for over 20 years; presumably the last owners of that particular airplane and probably the last people to have changed the engine oil).





Anyway, our ordeal started in LA on Monday, the day before our flight, where we had booked a room at a Super 8 motel near the airport which, somehow, cost $100. Before then, I didn´t know there was such a thing as a $100 Super 8 motel room. They were not lying about their proxmity to the airport though. In fact, I think we were on the runway, judging from the hurricane force noise that we heard at approximately 40-second intervals all day and all night long. I don´t know what the FAA requires for safe distances between airborne jetliners and sleeping ground dwellers, but I´m pretty sure I´m not supposed to be able to see individual heads or faces through the airplane´s windows, most of which had the same "Jesus Christ, we´re going to hit that overpriced Super 8, right where that goofy looking guy with the bad hair cut is standing at the window!" expression. Our first of many consecutive, sleepless nights.





So, the next morning at about 7 a.m., we arrived, dog tired, in Santiago. Despite the number of beers and glasses of wine they doled out on the flight (they´re free on LAN!) I didn´t sleep a wink. Niether did Fi, but at least she didn´t have to go to the bathroom 3x as much as normal. Upon arrival, we quickly cleared customs and immigration, and hauled our boxed-up bike monsters and other gear into an awaiting taxi that took us
Ready to go!Ready to go!Ready to go!

With bikes loaded, we left Santiago on Friday morning, bound for the train station to Chillan, where we would begin our expediton.
downtown, where we had a reservation at a hostel. By this point, all we wanted to do was fall into a comfy bed, but we couldn´t check in until later that day... okay, no problem, we just slunk down on a lobby sofa for an hour or so until the sight of us prompted the staff to hurriedly prepare a room for us by 9 a.m. to shuffle us out of other prospective guests´ view. Problem solved. Now, for those of you who haven´t stayed in too many hostels, they can be hit or miss. I usually like to look at the hostel´s own website to get an idea of who they cater to. If I see a bunch of photos of inebriated twenty-somethings holding up a random object like a sombrero, I´ll likely give that hostel a miss. This one´s website didn´t really give much away, so we really didn´t know what to expect. By about 10 p.m. on our sleepless first night here, we learned that this was, indeed, a young crowd, party-central type of place. Hence, our third consecutive night of no sleep. Also, our room didn´t have a window... none of them do, as I soon
Arriving in Chillan - train station Arriving in Chillan - train station Arriving in Chillan - train station

From here, we start pedaling for the Andes.
learned, which is odd, since the outside of the building has windows, or at least openings where windows once were. Kind of weird and a little off-putting. So today is our second day here in Santiago, which is an okay city, but nothing special and surprisingly expensive, in our humble opinions. We´ve paid for three (sleepless) nights here, but were already contemplating moving on earlier than originally planned. When one of the other neo-hippy, yoga pants-wearing pixies that is also staying here pulled out a tamborine this afternoon (I know, I´m becoming such an old fart), that sealed the deal. We´re leaving tomorrow morning on the train for the smaller city of Chillan, from which point we´ll finally start riding again. I rebuilt the bikes today, loaded all of our gear, so we´re finally ready to roll out, at least as far as the train station. We´re ready for it. It´s been two weeks since we finished our Great Divide expedtion, and we´re ready to get back out there, and get back at it. We´ll ride southeast for about a hundred miles at which point we´ll cross the Andes at a relatively low point, (7,000 ft above sea level, or thereabouts) and into Argentina where we´ll start heading north.



But for now, I´m getting ready to hit the sack where, hopefully, sleep will return to me. I´m worried that if I hear one of these hippy/pixie trustafarians pull out a guitar, panflute, or even a noisy hacky sack, I´ll snap and throw one of them through a window, at which point I´ll likely spend some considerable time in a Chilean prison... oh, wait, this place doesn´t have windows to throw anyone through. I guess I don´t have to worry about that.

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10th October 2015

Rats! I guess I'll have to return the pan flute and hacky sack that I bought you two for Christmas.

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