October 19
Brr!!! The top of the Andes on the border of Argentina and Chile is cold and windy! We are hoping our bikes don’t blow over during the night. We probably could have made it from Mendoza to Santiago in one day, but we (i.e., Tara) didn’t want to stress over riding 300 km, inevitable construction, and a border crossing. So we stopped just a few kilometers before the Chilean border at Las Cuevas. It is a very, very small town and we aren’t sure why it exists. There is no store, some sort of power station, three restaurants, and our “hotel” which is a beautiful, rustic, overpriced mountain lodge. Each room has either two or four sets of bunk beds and there are two shared bathrooms. There is a living room of sorts, but nothing in it has back support and it is very cold (I’m in all my clothes and wrapped in a blanket). There is a TV, but it is just playing classic motown with a black screen and a “service is temporarily disconnected” message. There is no internet access for many kilometers. There are heaters, but they aren’t heating the rooms, they are just making the rooms not cold. And there are some really great old windows that are doing their best to keep the rooms cold! Around the permanently shady side of each building (this time of year anyway) there is snow on the ground. There is also a very cute cat with a big meow that knows how to open closed doors.
The young hipster working here (and how does she not go crazy) told us that only two of the three restaurants might be open today, which was OK as we had brought soup and Pringles for dinner and we had a real breakfast. Guess it was our lucky day as a tour bus came through and one of the restaurants was prepared and opened a buffet at 4 pm (the perfect Grandma and Grandpa dinner time!). I really don’t know what vegetarians would eat out at restaurants in Argentina as we have seen nothing but meat and more meat.
After our meal we went walk about and visited the abandoned railway that ran in between the highway and the river. Not so long ago this was probably the way (and only way) people got across this border. There was a great sign that said “Bienvenidos a Argentina, 3200 m”. The tracks and infrastructure were now rusty, twisted iron and crumbling concrete.
The mountain pass between Argentina and Chile is amazing. We followed the Mendoza River on the Argentina side and from the river bed up it is steep and rugged. Snow capped peaks, vicunas, and green bunch grasses. I never thought I would describe landslides as beautiful, but in this pass they are. The way the colors melt together as the different hues of rocks piled upon each other on the hillsides is beautiful. The highway also had it’s fair share of white water rafting companies, kayakers, guard rails, power lines, cell towers, adventure riders, cyclists, tour buses, and lots of big trucks. I feel silly for expecting this pass to have had a “middle of nowhere feel”.
There are two ways to cross the border here. One is the paved highway and the other is a narrow road that goes by the famous “Christ the Redeemer” statue on the border of Chile and Argentina. It was built as a symbol of peace in 1902 when the two countries settled their border disputes. It's a gnarly gravel road and Ernesto wanted to ride it (admittedly my worry over the road was stronger than my desire to see the statue). During an evening chat with the hipster Senorita and two two other guests that were there (20-somethings from France), we learned the road still isn’t passable due to snow and ice. Pavimento it is.
As we temporarily leave Argentina I am going diss two things and not cry for her. The first is the famous Argentine empanada. At a five star restaurant this pastry filled treat is likely made with fresh ingredients and baked or fried fresh for the consumer. However, in small town Argentina where they cost a few pesos and are the only place to get any food mid-day, the local “chef” simply puts whatever is in the kitchen into the Argentine version of Pilsbury dough and microwaves it. The leftover pollo tendons or the gristly bits from the lomo or the hard boiled eggs from breakfast. Or worse, some dog or goat or illegally killed vicuna. Add some carrot and finely diced onion and potato and salt… Sure gringo. Have an empanada. My second diss is that Argentina has a strong smoking culture. Young and old alike there is culture that supports smokers, indoors and out. Gross.
Also, it took us six days, but we finished the world’s largest bag of cheetos. When the bag was empty and laid flat it measured a foot wide by over 2 feet tall :0
October 20
We were up and out of our chateau by 8:30 (as it was very loud all night and neither of us slept very much), and by 9 am we started the clock for our border crossing into Chile. There was a long line of cars and trucks when we pulled up and our initial reaction was to ride up to the front of the queue like we have done (and were expected to do) in every other country. Then it hit us: everyone has cars here. And hundreds (thousands?) of cars go through everyday. Of COURSE they are going to have a system, and it would be incredibly rude to get in front of the cars. There were signs and parking lots and people passing out forms to cars before they got up to the buildings. After each window the person told you what window to go to next. It took us an hour. An hour!
It was still grey and cold but we were excited for the ride down and out of the mountains into Chile as it is a pretty famous stretch of road. The first part is a series of long tunnels. One of them is 3.9 km long (and yes, both Ernesto and I were happy to get that part over with). After the tunnels is a stretch called “29 curvas”, which is a series of (yep) 29 tight turns in the road with a very steep change in elevation (on both the road below us and the mountains all around us). Unfortunately they were repainting the lines on the road, and they shut down all traffic in both directions for about an hour. So piles of cars and trucks built up in both directions. What we had hoped would be a once-in-a-lifetime windy bit of road ended up being inhaling exhaust from overworked uphill engines and smelling burning brakes from overworked trucks headed downhill. Oh well.
After about as many wrong turns as we could possibly make coming into Santiago (Ernesto even popped a sidewalk at one point) and a much needed shower, we had visit with Tona (tilde over the n), Andres (accent on the e), and their son Jeremiah. In the late 90’s Tona was an exchange student who lived with Ernie’s parents in Trout Lake. They stayed in touch and Tona has helped us out heaps over these past few months. Dinner was a traditional Chilean dish (yum) and it was soooo nice to sit in a living room and dining room and be someone’s company for the evening. And damn were those some good empanadas. Nothing Argentine about them. Ernesto says “It was very kind of them to welcome us into their home.”
Andres drove us back to our hotel after dinner and he educated us about the mountain pass we crossed this morning.The mountains we were ogling at were the second highest in the world (Mt. Everest/Himalayas being the highest of course, unless you count the bulge of the earth thing). Aconcagua is at 6980 meters (22,800 feet). No wonder we couldn’t breathe last night.
October 21
After a breakfast of powdered coffee, candy bars, and white bread (a.k.a. Thanks but no thanks), our first order of business was to drop off the bikes at the Triumph mechanic. We intentionally booked a hotel that was close to the dealership.
Despite not knowing a few spanish words for a few parts, they were very helpful and our bikes will be done early next week. They had an obvious sign that said don’t leave things of value on your bike, and while they probably meant “don’t leave anything on your bike” we took that very literally; our luggage and moto clothes are so dirty and smelly they are no longer of value, so we left most of it on the bike and ducked out. I’m sure they weren’t happy about having most of our crap (and the smell of our boots), but there was no way I was polluting Tona’s car and Andres’ parents house. Let the weekend getaway begin!
Anyone who knows about Chile probably knows and/or visited Valparaiso. It is a scenic two hour drive from Santiago (well, an hour and a half for us as Andres is “Fast and Furious Santiago Drift!!!” :) It is seemingly one of many very lush and agriculturally rich parts of Chile, with vineyards decorating the landscape from the mountains to the coast. Valparaiso kind of sneaks up on you, and it was much bigger than we expected. There are actually a series of four towns in a wide bay: from South to North they are Valparaiso, Vina del Mar, Renaca, y Concon). This area has it all. Art (indoors and out), history, affluence, hipsters, families, street cafes, high end restaurants, goofy old street elevators, plazas, high rises, sand dunes, beaches, and rocks to flip at low tide. Jeremiah was pretty hilarious with the waves; he was “fighting” the waves with his taekwondo stance. It was a very relaxing and enjoyable day.
At one point on one of the particularly art-filled street sections of town we came across a tour group that was in English/for USAmericans. The tour guide points out that unlike Santiago, there are perros around Valparaiso. She told the tour attendees not to feed them because they all have homes and get fed at home. She said the perros wander the streets during the day then owners take them all in at night. Tona and I agreed that was a bunch of bologna, and if we are right, it really pisses me off. Ignorance and lies are never the answer to a problem.
Both Tona and Andre and both of Tona’s and Andres’ parents have homes in or around Valparaiso, so after a day exploring on foot, we stayed at Andres’ parents place (the charming Anna Maria y Andres Senior). Ernie and I planned ahead and had some late afternoon coffee, so when dinner came at 9:30 we were still awake. We had a really nice dinner and chat. Andres Senior told us about some conflicts with mining and conservation as well as some history and historical figures (I had lots of questions after asking Andres about all the stern figures on their colorful and detailed money). The dessert was as much art as food, and as we gobbled it down Tona told us about how when she was in the states she came to conclusion that USAmerica doesn’t know how to make a proper cake. Now that I have seen the pastelerias of SAmerica, I completely agree with her. She was like “a birthday cake in the USA that is supposed to be for celebration is just a plain cake!” Ha! Anna Maria is an economist and has worked all around Chile so she told us about different places to visit. I told them about “mariposas of the sea” and they were hoping Ernesto would toca his guitarra. They wanted to know which way we were headed so their friends could welcome us and talk to us. Anna Maria said “I am sure they want you to visit them” So generous. And then they got even more generous. They offered to go back to Santiago with Tona and Andres the following and give us their car to explore until our motos were finished! We did not accept, which I hope wasn’t rude... Between the four of them we were overwhelmed with generosity all day. Andres drove hours today and Tona arranged everything right under our noses. That woman is two steps ahead of the life around her.
October 22
The neighborhood is very quiet and peaceful and we all had a relaxing morning reading (Ernesto), writing (me), playing chess (Jeremiah and Andres), or sleeping in (Anna Maria and Andres Sr). Jeremiah is five years old and has known how to play chess since he was four. Yesterday he was cracking me up with the songs he sang along to. After randomly singing (in Italian) “La dona e mobile” on the streets, during one of our car rides he followed along (in English) to “We built this city on rock and roll”. I cracked up. And wow.
The generosity continues. Last night Tona wanted Andres to go the grocery store for something for dinner, and Ernesto and I went along to poke around. We were still looking for peanut butter as if Bolivia had it, someplace in Chile must have it. Nope. Well this morning Andres went to fetch some syrup for pancakes and he returned with a jar of “Algood Peanut Butter”. Yes! We’ll make good use of that over the next few weeks, so Muchas Gracias Andres!
After breakfast Ernesto and Jeremiah and I played with hotwheels and leather cups. I totally missed the transition, but somehow we went went from racing cars to building towers. Jeremiah and Ernesto built a great, tall tower and Jeremiah smashed it down with his feet. The boys laughed. I said to Ernesto, “I guess that is a difference between little girls and little boys. Little girls build towers and then sit around and admire them and little boys built towers and smash them down”. Then Ernesto says, as if it should be obvious, “but then we can build another tower”.
After playtime we took a lovely walk around the neighborhood and down to the beach. The tide was up (again) so we only found porcelain crabs, snails, limpets, and a few shrimp. The nature highlight of our walk was the two dozen Inca terns nesting on the cliff side between the sidewalk and the beach. Their white mustaches… awesome! Back at the house, Ernesto helped assemble a picnic table for Andres Senior and Anna Maria. And graciously, Tona and Andres fed us AGAIN (gnocchis, one of my favorites). We can no longer say we are getting fat from eating terrible food.
The ride back to Santiago was very long… serious traffic. We did however get to see three horses in a bus. Andres deserved yet another prize for his driving and navigation through that mess (as it was a total shit show). Safe and home to our hotel (with an-oozing-with-generosity bag of bread and avocado for breakfast from Tona) E and I were total zombies and crashed. Thank goodness we will see them again for dinner on Tuesday so that ‘goodbye’ is not how they will remember us.
We spend this weekend with some great people. We were treated like royalty and we hope we get to visit with them again, preferably in Portland when we can return the graciousness of our hosts.
Brr!!! The top of the Andes on the border of Argentina and Chile is cold and windy! We are hoping our bikes don’t blow over during the night. We probably could have made it from Mendoza to Santiago in one day, but we (i.e., Tara) didn’t want to stress over riding 300 km, inevitable construction, and a border crossing. So we stopped just a few kilometers before the Chilean border at Las Cuevas. It is a very, very small town and we aren’t sure why it exists. There is no store, some sort of power station, three restaurants, and our “hotel” which is a beautiful, rustic, overpriced mountain lodge. Each room has either two or four sets of bunk beds and there are two shared bathrooms. There is a living room of sorts, but nothing in it has back support and it is very cold (I’m in all my clothes and wrapped in a blanket). There is a TV, but it is just playing classic motown with a black screen and a “service is temporarily disconnected” message. There is no internet access for many kilometers. There are heaters, but they aren’t heating the rooms, they are just making the rooms not cold. And there are some really great old windows that are doing their best to keep the rooms cold! Around the permanently shady side of each building (this time of year anyway) there is snow on the ground. There is also a very cute cat with a big meow that knows how to open closed doors.
The young hipster working here (and how does she not go crazy) told us that only two of the three restaurants might be open today, which was OK as we had brought soup and Pringles for dinner and we had a real breakfast. Guess it was our lucky day as a tour bus came through and one of the restaurants was prepared and opened a buffet at 4 pm (the perfect Grandma and Grandpa dinner time!). I really don’t know what vegetarians would eat out at restaurants in Argentina as we have seen nothing but meat and more meat.
After our meal we went walk about and visited the abandoned railway that ran in between the highway and the river. Not so long ago this was probably the way (and only way) people got across this border. There was a great sign that said “Bienvenidos a Argentina, 3200 m”. The tracks and infrastructure were now rusty, twisted iron and crumbling concrete.
The mountain pass between Argentina and Chile is amazing. We followed the Mendoza River on the Argentina side and from the river bed up it is steep and rugged. Snow capped peaks, vicunas, and green bunch grasses. I never thought I would describe landslides as beautiful, but in this pass they are. The way the colors melt together as the different hues of rocks piled upon each other on the hillsides is beautiful. The highway also had it’s fair share of white water rafting companies, kayakers, guard rails, power lines, cell towers, adventure riders, cyclists, tour buses, and lots of big trucks. I feel silly for expecting this pass to have had a “middle of nowhere feel”.
There are two ways to cross the border here. One is the paved highway and the other is a narrow road that goes by the famous “Christ the Redeemer” statue on the border of Chile and Argentina. It was built as a symbol of peace in 1902 when the two countries settled their border disputes. It's a gnarly gravel road and Ernesto wanted to ride it (admittedly my worry over the road was stronger than my desire to see the statue). During an evening chat with the hipster Senorita and two two other guests that were there (20-somethings from France), we learned the road still isn’t passable due to snow and ice. Pavimento it is.
As we temporarily leave Argentina I am going diss two things and not cry for her. The first is the famous Argentine empanada. At a five star restaurant this pastry filled treat is likely made with fresh ingredients and baked or fried fresh for the consumer. However, in small town Argentina where they cost a few pesos and are the only place to get any food mid-day, the local “chef” simply puts whatever is in the kitchen into the Argentine version of Pilsbury dough and microwaves it. The leftover pollo tendons or the gristly bits from the lomo or the hard boiled eggs from breakfast. Or worse, some dog or goat or illegally killed vicuna. Add some carrot and finely diced onion and potato and salt… Sure gringo. Have an empanada. My second diss is that Argentina has a strong smoking culture. Young and old alike there is culture that supports smokers, indoors and out. Gross.
Also, it took us six days, but we finished the world’s largest bag of cheetos. When the bag was empty and laid flat it measured a foot wide by over 2 feet tall :0
October 20
We were up and out of our chateau by 8:30 (as it was very loud all night and neither of us slept very much), and by 9 am we started the clock for our border crossing into Chile. There was a long line of cars and trucks when we pulled up and our initial reaction was to ride up to the front of the queue like we have done (and were expected to do) in every other country. Then it hit us: everyone has cars here. And hundreds (thousands?) of cars go through everyday. Of COURSE they are going to have a system, and it would be incredibly rude to get in front of the cars. There were signs and parking lots and people passing out forms to cars before they got up to the buildings. After each window the person told you what window to go to next. It took us an hour. An hour!
It was still grey and cold but we were excited for the ride down and out of the mountains into Chile as it is a pretty famous stretch of road. The first part is a series of long tunnels. One of them is 3.9 km long (and yes, both Ernesto and I were happy to get that part over with). After the tunnels is a stretch called “29 curvas”, which is a series of (yep) 29 tight turns in the road with a very steep change in elevation (on both the road below us and the mountains all around us). Unfortunately they were repainting the lines on the road, and they shut down all traffic in both directions for about an hour. So piles of cars and trucks built up in both directions. What we had hoped would be a once-in-a-lifetime windy bit of road ended up being inhaling exhaust from overworked uphill engines and smelling burning brakes from overworked trucks headed downhill. Oh well.
After about as many wrong turns as we could possibly make coming into Santiago (Ernesto even popped a sidewalk at one point) and a much needed shower, we had visit with Tona (tilde over the n), Andres (accent on the e), and their son Jeremiah. In the late 90’s Tona was an exchange student who lived with Ernie’s parents in Trout Lake. They stayed in touch and Tona has helped us out heaps over these past few months. Dinner was a traditional Chilean dish (yum) and it was soooo nice to sit in a living room and dining room and be someone’s company for the evening. And damn were those some good empanadas. Nothing Argentine about them. Ernesto says “It was very kind of them to welcome us into their home.”
Andres drove us back to our hotel after dinner and he educated us about the mountain pass we crossed this morning.The mountains we were ogling at were the second highest in the world (Mt. Everest/Himalayas being the highest of course, unless you count the bulge of the earth thing). Aconcagua is at 6980 meters (22,800 feet). No wonder we couldn’t breathe last night.
October 21
After a breakfast of powdered coffee, candy bars, and white bread (a.k.a. Thanks but no thanks), our first order of business was to drop off the bikes at the Triumph mechanic. We intentionally booked a hotel that was close to the dealership.
Despite not knowing a few spanish words for a few parts, they were very helpful and our bikes will be done early next week. They had an obvious sign that said don’t leave things of value on your bike, and while they probably meant “don’t leave anything on your bike” we took that very literally; our luggage and moto clothes are so dirty and smelly they are no longer of value, so we left most of it on the bike and ducked out. I’m sure they weren’t happy about having most of our crap (and the smell of our boots), but there was no way I was polluting Tona’s car and Andres’ parents house. Let the weekend getaway begin!
Anyone who knows about Chile probably knows and/or visited Valparaiso. It is a scenic two hour drive from Santiago (well, an hour and a half for us as Andres is “Fast and Furious Santiago Drift!!!” :) It is seemingly one of many very lush and agriculturally rich parts of Chile, with vineyards decorating the landscape from the mountains to the coast. Valparaiso kind of sneaks up on you, and it was much bigger than we expected. There are actually a series of four towns in a wide bay: from South to North they are Valparaiso, Vina del Mar, Renaca, y Concon). This area has it all. Art (indoors and out), history, affluence, hipsters, families, street cafes, high end restaurants, goofy old street elevators, plazas, high rises, sand dunes, beaches, and rocks to flip at low tide. Jeremiah was pretty hilarious with the waves; he was “fighting” the waves with his taekwondo stance. It was a very relaxing and enjoyable day.
At one point on one of the particularly art-filled street sections of town we came across a tour group that was in English/for USAmericans. The tour guide points out that unlike Santiago, there are perros around Valparaiso. She told the tour attendees not to feed them because they all have homes and get fed at home. She said the perros wander the streets during the day then owners take them all in at night. Tona and I agreed that was a bunch of bologna, and if we are right, it really pisses me off. Ignorance and lies are never the answer to a problem.
Both Tona and Andre and both of Tona’s and Andres’ parents have homes in or around Valparaiso, so after a day exploring on foot, we stayed at Andres’ parents place (the charming Anna Maria y Andres Senior). Ernie and I planned ahead and had some late afternoon coffee, so when dinner came at 9:30 we were still awake. We had a really nice dinner and chat. Andres Senior told us about some conflicts with mining and conservation as well as some history and historical figures (I had lots of questions after asking Andres about all the stern figures on their colorful and detailed money). The dessert was as much art as food, and as we gobbled it down Tona told us about how when she was in the states she came to conclusion that USAmerica doesn’t know how to make a proper cake. Now that I have seen the pastelerias of SAmerica, I completely agree with her. She was like “a birthday cake in the USA that is supposed to be for celebration is just a plain cake!” Ha! Anna Maria is an economist and has worked all around Chile so she told us about different places to visit. I told them about “mariposas of the sea” and they were hoping Ernesto would toca his guitarra. They wanted to know which way we were headed so their friends could welcome us and talk to us. Anna Maria said “I am sure they want you to visit them” So generous. And then they got even more generous. They offered to go back to Santiago with Tona and Andres the following and give us their car to explore until our motos were finished! We did not accept, which I hope wasn’t rude... Between the four of them we were overwhelmed with generosity all day. Andres drove hours today and Tona arranged everything right under our noses. That woman is two steps ahead of the life around her.
October 22
The neighborhood is very quiet and peaceful and we all had a relaxing morning reading (Ernesto), writing (me), playing chess (Jeremiah and Andres), or sleeping in (Anna Maria and Andres Sr). Jeremiah is five years old and has known how to play chess since he was four. Yesterday he was cracking me up with the songs he sang along to. After randomly singing (in Italian) “La dona e mobile” on the streets, during one of our car rides he followed along (in English) to “We built this city on rock and roll”. I cracked up. And wow.
The generosity continues. Last night Tona wanted Andres to go the grocery store for something for dinner, and Ernesto and I went along to poke around. We were still looking for peanut butter as if Bolivia had it, someplace in Chile must have it. Nope. Well this morning Andres went to fetch some syrup for pancakes and he returned with a jar of “Algood Peanut Butter”. Yes! We’ll make good use of that over the next few weeks, so Muchas Gracias Andres!
After breakfast Ernesto and Jeremiah and I played with hotwheels and leather cups. I totally missed the transition, but somehow we went went from racing cars to building towers. Jeremiah and Ernesto built a great, tall tower and Jeremiah smashed it down with his feet. The boys laughed. I said to Ernesto, “I guess that is a difference between little girls and little boys. Little girls build towers and then sit around and admire them and little boys built towers and smash them down”. Then Ernesto says, as if it should be obvious, “but then we can build another tower”.
After playtime we took a lovely walk around the neighborhood and down to the beach. The tide was up (again) so we only found porcelain crabs, snails, limpets, and a few shrimp. The nature highlight of our walk was the two dozen Inca terns nesting on the cliff side between the sidewalk and the beach. Their white mustaches… awesome! Back at the house, Ernesto helped assemble a picnic table for Andres Senior and Anna Maria. And graciously, Tona and Andres fed us AGAIN (gnocchis, one of my favorites). We can no longer say we are getting fat from eating terrible food.
The ride back to Santiago was very long… serious traffic. We did however get to see three horses in a bus. Andres deserved yet another prize for his driving and navigation through that mess (as it was a total shit show). Safe and home to our hotel (with an-oozing-with-generosity bag of bread and avocado for breakfast from Tona) E and I were total zombies and crashed. Thank goodness we will see them again for dinner on Tuesday so that ‘goodbye’ is not how they will remember us.
We spend this weekend with some great people. We were treated like royalty and we hope we get to visit with them again, preferably in Portland when we can return the graciousness of our hosts.