La Serena to Valparaiso

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Monday 12 March

After missing out on the observatory tour I decided I would get up early and ride up to the observatory before heading to Valparaiso. Thatat least would mean I could say I had actually seen a Chilean observatory.

That plan fell by the way side too though. I woke early enough but it was another pea souper so I decided to write my blog until the fog had burnt off. I had about 500kms to go but when I booked the hotel in Valparaiso the night before I had said I would probably not get there until 5 pm, so I had plenty of time.

I wrote the first draft of what was meant to be the last entry of my blog but as I came to add the photos the server went down and I lost the lot. It had taken me ages too. I packed up and thought I might as well give the observatories a miss. I wasn't feeling in the mood.

The weather was much better and much of the fog had lifted by the time I set off at about 11 ish. It was though really windy and that made it feel not alot warmer than the day before. Although back home motorway driving is boring, especially if retuning along the same route, I really enjoyed this run. The landscape was still inspiring. What I had thought of as semi arid desert on the way north now looked positively lush in comparison to the Atacama.

Despite being a Monday there was still very little traffic, though as I approached the turn of for Ovalle where the road climbed up through the hills, I saw another convoy of Tonka toy trucks crawlling up the hill on the opposite side of the carriageway. As I came up to a crest of one hill they were approaching from the other side. It was quite an impressive sight as they loomed into view. Unfortunately there was nowhere really to stop to take a photograph.

I also overtook a couple of pickup trucks loaded down onto their axles with what looked like dead branches, but was ai overtook them I could smell that they were in fact dried seaweed, prbably kelp. Quite what they would be used for I wasn't sure. Manure perhaps or a a raw material for some the production of God knows what or perhaps just a s fuel. Who knows?

Just north of Los Vilos the reserve fuel light came on but I remembered from the trip north that there was a petrol station near by so I didn't worry I was going to run out. I pulled into a shell garage and decided it was time for lunch. Inside looked much like any other service station but behind the counter was a large white tiled room with a sink, an area to prep food, a massive grill and two huge gas burners. The sort of thing that would not look out of place in an army field kitchen. There was not a mircowave oven in sight. I ordered a prawn empanada. Although it had been prepared in advance it looked home made and the cook dropped it in a huge pot on one of the burners. Five minutes later I was served a piping hot chrisp empanada, not in the least bit greasy. It was lovely.

On the way out there was an ATM so I decided to take out some more cash. To my horror I went through the process (you can change the instructions in to English) but I got no money. I hjad pushed the button to say I didn't want a slip so it had either stolen my money, I was broke or it simple cancelled the transaction - which I hoped to God is what had happened. I could not get anyone to understand me and they didn't really seem to care so I took my life in my hands and tried again. Just to be one the safe side I went for the smallest amount I dared. This time I pushed the button for the slip. The machine made a few noises, which it hadn't before, so I took that as a good sign and out popped the money. Phew! Let's just hope I haven't lost £100 when I get home.

The service station also had clean looking loos so I thought I would go whilst I could. In Chile I had had to pay about 30-40 pence to use the loo in these stations but I didn't mind on this occassion because these ones looked very well looked after. As I walked in I slipped and I took the second tumble of the trip. Thank God there were no vultures. I couldn't quite believe it, I had twisted my ankle and wrenched the left hip. How on earth can you twist an ankle in the great big motorbike boots I had on? The lady on the door came to see what the commotion was all about and bless her she tried to pick me up. She was about 300 years old. There was no way she was going to lift me but I got up easy enough and walked round trying to walk out the sprain.

The sat nav had failed to charge the night before. I hadn't plugged it in properly. There was still some juice left but I was saving that for emergencies. I was navigating old school - with a map. For those too young to know what a map is; Google it. It is a bit like a paper version of Google earth but you've got to work out where you are yourself.

I was aiming to turn off Ruta 5 onto E 46 this hopefully would take me along the coast to Concon, Vina del Mar and Valparaiso. The Chilean authorities though don't waste much money on sign posts. They do have them but they are vague. They tend simply to point to the direction of the town and not mention the road. The trick would be to work out which of the signs to Concon was the E 46. Fortunately the second junction to Concon actually had E 46 on it and off I came.

The road was single carriage and the landscape struck me as very southern mediterranean and quite pleasant to ride along. At the litte town of Puchuncavi there was some major road works. They were laying a brand new stretch of road and we were forced on to a dirt track. As I re-joined the road I met my first Chilean bikers. I had seen plenty of mopeds in town but no real big bikes. At the lights waiting to go into the roadworks I had just travelled along was a bright orange sports bike. It looked like an old Fireblade, but it wasn't. It was some sort of cheap copy. The rider gave me a smart salute. I returned the compliment with a good old fashioned Brit biker nod. On the continent and it seems over in Chile, as they ride on the wrong side of the road - the right - it is natual to wave with the left had - as of course you pass one another left side to left side. In the UK you don't so a hand wave isn't the done thing. You would have to let go of the throttle with your right hand and that might be dangerous as the bike would suddenly slow. In the UK gestures with your left hand are reserved for car drivers!! I felt a bit rude though because I could of waved and I expect he might not of appreicated the sign of comarderie the nod was meant to convey. A little while later I passed a guy on a Harley - a proper one. He had the full YMCA gear on including the German helmet. He looked a plonk and like Harley bikers everywhere completely ignore me. He was far too superior to acknowledge my existence.

Concon was a bit of a disappointment. It was one huge industrial complex right on the coast. I couldn't make out if it was a refrinery complex or some sort of industrial port for raw materials or a combination of both. Whatever it was it was an eyesore.

Once through Concon though the road was excellent. It hug the coast and wound its way south towards Vina del Mar. Every now and then you would get a view of the bay with Vina del Mar and Valparaiso off in the distance. The nearer to Vina del Mar you got the more it looked little the south coast of France, with tall apartment blocks, hotels and a yatch marina all hugging the coast. As I entered Vina del Mar the illussion was complete with Dunkin Donuts, Burger King and McDonalds all lined up along the sea front.

Vina del Mar mergers into Valparaiso and I hoped for better. Valparaiso was afterall a world heritage site. Surely even Ronald McDonald wouldn't dare would he? You could tell Vina del Mar and Valparaiso were large modern cleear cities, much nicer than Santiago but I feared niether would be my kind of place.

I was determined not to use the sat nav and pulled over to get the street map for Valparaiso out. The hotel seemed easy enough to find. Like all towns and cities in Chile Valparaiso was built on a grid system. As long as I knew where I was I could count of the blocks off and the streets were well marked albeit with samll signs. Once I had determine where I was I found the hotel without any problem.

The trouble with Valparaiso, or rather one of its charms is it is build on a side of a steep hill, or several hills. The hotel was half way up one pf the steepest. As I rode uphill to the hotel I thought I would never be able to stop and get off the bike and as far as I could tell it had no off road parking. I decided the safest thing to do was ride past find somewhere safe to turn round and appraoch the hotel down hill. This I did but once off I thought this is going to prove murderous to get back on. It was 10 to 5, just a little earlier that I had predicted. Not bad for an old fella and a map!

I pushed the entry button and a disembodied voice said in perfect English; "come on in". I unloaded and brought my bags in to discover the hotel was at the top of a flight of 50 or 60 or so stairs. When the guide book says Valaparaiso is steep it ain't wrong! I struggled up with my two panniers and left the big bag for later. A young woman ran down grabbed my bags and the trotted back up with them to reception. God I hated her !

She was in fact a terribly nice person. She was from Belgium and spoke perfect English. No need to register Mr Rogers make yourself comfortable and I'll make you a complimentary Pisco sour. What a star! Pisco is a local brandy like drink. It is actually made up the valley from La Serena, passed Vicuna and I had seen signs for it way back at the start of the day. It was lovely. Not at all like brandy and quite citrus like and very refreshing, though that might just be the wasy it is made into a cocktail. The only downside to the hotel was the lack of parking, but given the terraine this is not in the least bit surprising. The district was full of hotels and hostels and not one of them seemed to have any off road parking facilities. I moved the bike to a side road and locked it up with a cheap bike lock I had brought with me. If someone wantt to nick it, it would be easy enough but I hoped the lock would deter them.

Having made myself decent I went for a walk. I had by complete chance choose a lovely art deco hotel right in the centre of the Concepcion district of Valaparaiso, which is the place to be.Valparaiso was not what I feared it might was I rode along the sea front at Vina del Mar. The steepness meant there were great views of the city, the bay and of course Valparaiso's famous port. Although steep I had a nice little circular walk around the lanes of this arty enclave. I saw what looked at a distance to be a Banksy so I changed course to have a better look. There was street art everywhere. It was art rather than mindless graffti. Banksy though has a distinct style and stood out. As I got closer I could see a couple of people had written "Banksy?" alongside, so I cannot claim to have discovered it. It turned out it was painted on the side of the local art gallery so in my mind that strengthen the claim it was genuine.

The hotel only did food at lunchtimes but the area was full of places to eat. Being Chile nothing really got going until 8 pm and it seemed an age ago I had had my empanada and I was starving. I did though manage to find a nice place on Abtao. I asked the waiter what he would recommend that was local. He suggest a ceviche of clams. It turned out they were in fact scallops, raw of course but in a lime dressing and they were lovely. I followed this up with Patagonia lamb. This was the poshest meal I had had to date in Chile and it made up for the previous nights disappointment.

It was Monday and I had agreed with Lin I would turn the phone on. We had exchanged plenty of e-mails but they only seem to emphasis the distance. We had agreed Monday we you text one another. It made the contact far more immediate and I could image just round the corner. What I'm I doing in this beautiful country without her?

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