A Chilean Adventure

A Chilean Adventure

I thought I would tell you about my latest escapade.  In the middle of February we went on holiday - to Chile.  We set off in our car and spent the first night in Cochabamba in the same hotel where we stayed when we first arrived in Bolivia.  I remembered everything about it - where the lifts were, the roof terrace and so on.  The next day our aim was to reach the Chilean border so we left early on the new road to La Paz climbing up to 3,500 metres above sea level as far as a place called Patacamaya where we had to leave the lovely new road and turn left heading for Chile.  So far so good.

Once we left the new road we were somewhat dismayed to discover that the main road to Chile was not so much a road as a dirt track, but we carried on anyway.  There were road building gangs at work.  Then the road disappeared - just a multiplicity of tyre tracks in the sand where truck drivers had obviously taken the most convenient route when it was raining.  We chose one and carried on.  

Not a living soul.  Very little in the way of vegetation, just sparse scrub.  Miles between one adobe hut and the next.  The track got worse - ruts larger, sandier.  We stopped  to ask some girls and a lady at a hut if this was the right way to Chile.  The girls ran away to hide and the old lady sat hunkered down at the door, impassive.  She could not help anyway because she only spoke Aymara.  Eventually the two girls, having wrapped themselves up in their cardigans and pulled their skirts down as far as they could, confirmed that the track in front of their hut, not the one behind which we were on, did indeed go to Chile.  

Worse and worse.  My dad got out at another hut where he could see an old man herding llamas a little way away.  At the sight of this bearded stranger  a clutch of little children scrambled off and hid in the hut, all darkness and misery.  When he reached him the old man was no use as a source of information because he was stone deaf and probably only spoke Aymara anyway.  Some distance later my mum got out and asked a lady with two young children minding their llamas.  Yes, right road but a long, long way to go.   On and on.  Worse and worse  - relieved only by the elegance of the llamas grazing on the sparse vegetation.  Then a dried up salt lake.  We carried on.  Nothingness.  Not a living soul.

We were on the point of turning back to Oruro and trying the road to Iquique the next day when a pick-up truck appeared out of nowhere - the first vehicle we had seen since we left the road-building team behind.   This was the old road to Chile but it was dreadful, they said, and we would do better to go back and try and get on to the new road.  We would come to a hut with tyres outside.  There there was a road to the left.  If we took that we would eventually come to the new road.  We took their advice.


In fact there was only one tyre outside the hut, empty except for a few chickens sheltering from the sweltering heat.  We stopped.  A campesino was walking in our direction.  Maybe he would know how to reach the new road.   He did.  He would come with us, so we gave him the front seat to act as guide.  Down the track, just as the men in the truck had told us, but the track did not last long.  Cross country. He had been walking all day long because he had come to visit a relative and was now on his way back home.  No schools here.  No doctor.  No nothing.  Survive or die.  Down a steep incline like a V which we thought we would never get out of - but fortunately we did.  The campesino got out at the place most convenient to him, rejoicing in his ride and informing us that we would soon reach the new road.

To cut a long story short, 10 hours after leaving Cochabamba we reached the Bolivian side of the border with Chile, a place called Tambo Quemado at 4,660 metres above sea level, and another 4 hours later we finally reached Putre, the first town over the Chilean border. There we found a place to stay and Paddy and I could have our dinner and a long drink.  It was a chilling minus 3ºC there but the cold was quite welcome really after the 35ºC all day long on the altiplano.  We didn’t sleep much because of the altitude which makes your heart race a bit but we were able to relax after our long and arduous trip.

After that traumatic start our holday Chile was terrific.  We travelled down the Andes towards the coast. The shining whiteness of the desert contrasts amazingly with the green oasis which suddenly appears at the bottom of a deep canyon.  We stayed a few days at Arica where the people in the hotel were very nice to Paddy and me and we could go for long walks on the beach every day, both morning and evening.

That was the most terrific things about this trip.  I had never seen the sea before so I had an exciting time swimming in all this water - once I got over the initial shock of lapping up salt water!  There was a lot to learn - how to calculate the rhythm of the waves so I could jump over them or run out ahead of them depending on the size.  Paddy doesn’t have any of these problems because he won’t even walk on the wet sand.

All the way down through Chile we stopped off at the most magnificent beaches.  One in particular I remember . It was called Playa Larga (or Long Beach).  We had a great game there because there were thousands of tiny red crabs on the sand and Paddy and I chased them until they sheltered in their holes.  On another beach at Caldera where we stayed for a few days we could watch the fishes jumping out of the water.  The could jump more than 3 feet into the air.  Amazing.  That was good fun, but this time around I didn’t go rushing after them.  I’ve learned my lesson after the heron in Chimoré.

In Santiago, which is the capital city, we stayed with friends who have a lovely garden so we could lie about around the pool.  Then further south we stayed with another friend who had a huge ranch where we went for long walks and ran around.

When we reached the south where the weather is much cooler and the landscape much greener we set up our base at Puerto Varas and from there we visited several beaches on the shores of Lake Llanquihue.  We went to Petrohué, a magnificent natural paradise where there are lots of woodland trails.  One of the exciting things there is the volcanos and the black lava runs which are to be seen everywhere.

One day we took the ferry to the Island of Chiloé.  On the crossing we saw dolphins jumping in the bay and lots of sea birds wheeling over the ship.  Then we made a testimonial trip down the first 50 kilometres of the dirt road which leads to Antartica.  


One flattering experience we had in Puerto Varas was one evening when we were sitting in the restaurant (Actually Paddy and I were lying under the table), an American girl who had just been on an Antarctic cruise with her mother, came over and asked if she could stroke us because she was missing her own dogs that she had left behind with her father.  She stroked us for a while and that made her feel better.  Paddy and I felt quite good after that.

On the way back we didn’t take the coast road as we had done on the southward journey but crossed the desert.  We saw mirages.  I always thought this business of mirages was a bit exaggerated, but it is absolutely true: as you look at the horizon you really think you can see water shimmering.  We went up into the Elqui Valley, another oasis in the desert, which is said to harbour powerful magnetic energy which relaxes the system and the spirit.   We certainly had a relaxing time lounging under the trees in the square.

To cross the Andes back into Bolivia we took a different road. After consulting with the customs department in Iquique we set off into the mountains.  Luckily we did not meet any other vehicles because the road over and around the mountains was a single track and, if we had met someone else, one of us would have had to reverse for miles to a spot where the other could cross.  That was lucky.  The good thing about this road was that at least there was a road to follow, not like the road to Tambo Quemado, so, although it was long and winding and tiring, it was not so stressful.  

I don’t know about you but I  really do think that I should be in the Guinness Book of Records!  How many other British-born beardies have been fortunate enough to visit as many places as I have?  I’ve crossed the Andes twice and I’ve crossed the Atacama Desert which is the most arid desert in the world (OK, OK, so I didn’t do it on foot but in the comfort of our car, but still .... ).  I travelled the length of Chile as far as the road goes and even went a little way along the Southern Road which leads to Antarctica.  I nearly went to a Rolling Stones concert in Santiago but at the last minute we decided that there would be too many people and we just lounged around in our friend ’s garden instead.  How’s that for common sense?

The trip was also good in a number of practical ways.  In the hot and steamy jungle, I am sure you will understand that personal hygiene is no simple task. No matter how hard we tried we always seemed to be plagued by flees and itches of one kind or another.  Paddy - poor thing - was much more prone to itches than me.  Anyway, the lower humidity and all those bathes in the sea were a beauty treatment in themselves.  Paddy did not escape.  He was brought in under protest and thoroughly doused with salt water.  I think he appreciated the results so did not protest too much after a couple of days.  I, on the other hand, needed no coaxing to go into the water.  Coming out was a different matter, though.

On the social side we also had a fine time.  In the jungle we were not allowed to associate with other dogs because, as I think I told you in one of my previous missives, they all had mange.  However, in Chile that was not a problem and there were lots of lovely dogs that I could wag my tail at and sniff around.  Once I got over the initial over-enthusiasm I didn’t frighten them all away!  I must admit that at the beginning I was a bit overwhelming, but you live and learn.

That’s it for this instalment.               Simon