Why did I think, that after I reach San Juan, Bolivia the riding on dirtroads will be over. I assumed wrong. 70km through the dry salar, a flat tire included, and I passed the border to Chile. The immigration somewhere in the desert was the weirdest I have seen yet. 4km later I recognized a stone, that's it, the border. On my left I saw a soccer field, one goal situated in Bolivia, the other in Chile. Do they shoot the ball from the halfway line? Are the players all diplomats? I kept going and arrived the immigration control of Chile which is famous for food inspection. There are certain products you aren't allowed to bring with you into Chile, mostly fresh products like fruits, milk products and nuts. Before I get finned, I decided to take as less as possible with me. My first five minutes in Ollegüe were alarming. No shop had open, no money exchange, no bank, no ATM, 200km of dirtroad against the heaviest winds till the first oportunity to get chilien money. To make it short: I was fucked. It took ages until I found somebody who gave me accommodation, the winds were to strong to build up my tent without shelter. Beside tabletennis, billard and fusbal tables, the room I would sleep in offered me twenty new mattresses to sleep on, what a feist. I had my place to sleep, next, find a solution for the money exchange issue!

 

Quote out of my diary:

"This villagers won't take my Bolivianos or Dollar. I asked everybody. At least I know about an invitation for dinner at the SAG, the guys who should search my bags for food or flowers to prevent Chile of foreign seeds told me to come over for sharing the dinner. On my way to the office I see a truck passing the border, a Bolivian driver. He changed a bit of my money. Rescued! The invitation became super nice. They welcomed me with pancakes and while they prepared the dinner I should relax in front of their TV station. Okay, done. An episode "Friends" later we started to talk and I got a good insight into Chilean traditions and geography, moreover it became obvious that it will be hard to understand the people. Beside other meanings of words they speak super fast. Satisfied I walked back to my house, I knocked on the only shop door I did not knocked on before, it opened and she accepted Bolivianos as means of payment. I stocked up with enough juice and at least enough food to arrive in Calama, the next city with an ATM. Good night!"

I started early, to early. All my body was freezing. Surrounded by desert and volcanoes a strange feeling, it became absurd as I saw one of them smoking, the top steamed out a permanent cloud while I tried to move my toes in the shoes with the plan to wear more cloths the next morning. The road became better. A mix of old, new and no asphalt. My only companions were three trains, passing by until a car stopped close to me. After a nice chat I was invited to their home in Santiago, I got cookies and fruits. All this just after I ate my last stocks by watching flamingos walking through a shallow lake. I definitely thought about this anomalies differently before. First, I assumed another climate they are living in. Secondly, they stand still on one foot, that's all they do. By now I saw approx. 500 of them, can't remember one stood like my imagination based on zoos. Anyway, I had food Abd water and continued. The harder part began. Ascent against headwind. Later the wind forced me to give up, but where shall I camp? I cycled since an hour in an almost flat stonedesert. It looked like a not used place in hell. Later I found out, I just passed the driest place on earth, just the Antarctica has less rain. Since 500years some places in this area did not see rain. A wonderful opportunity to sleep with an uncovered tent to see the sky and the stars but it was definitely to cold for doing it. Arriving in Calama was just good because I could get money in an ATM. The prices are enormous. I immediately left and asked in the last restaurant before the desert started again, if I could sleep in their backyard if I eat at their place. Seven dollar for a small burger. The next and only other plate was a 45 dollar fish.
6 dogs pissed against my tent, a beginning of "the week of dog pee", how I called it later. From now on almost every night a dog pissed on my tent, animated by the smell of the others. I could have washed it off with my water but if you are cycling in the driest region on the planet, you might use your supplies better. My map showed me a sixty kilometer ascent. Descent grades but still a long climb. It began nice but turned out to be a boring never ending story through the desert and, as this would not be enough, I had to fight against a permanent headwind. Since a few days I look at my map with a desperate wish to reach Calama. After Calama the road makes a left turn. Cycling east after all these hours of strong south-westerly winds should be a relief and became a disaster. From the very beginning of the day, as it was cold and foggy, I was talking to the weather why it is against me. Later the day the weather and pachamama made me a present after all. From the top of the descent down to my destination San Pedro de Atacama I had a wonderful view on the Valle de la luna, the valley of the moon. It was named like this because it's appearance is supposed to be the most similar to the moon surface. After a while I became aware that this will be a record breaking descent. Finally I speeded downhill with 91km/h, my topspeed of the entire trip. At the bottom I could not feel my hands, my feet hurt as well. The whole body was set under such a high tension that I needed a break. My friend Pius broke the 100km/h on his trip with a recumbent bike. It must have been a scarifying situation, these highspeeds demanding all your concentration, what is hard if you look down at this unique area while tourists scream out of the car "90", "91".

"11000 Chilenos por favor." I made the math, this was about 19 dollar, to camp.

"Do I buy the ground?" Was my question.

"No."

 

So I left the place but after a long search I found a backyard where I could put my tent. Still the most expensive camping of my trip. I couldn't afford anything in Chile. Moreover I watched the important soccer world cup qualification match of Chile against Colombia by wearing my Colombian cycling gloves. I fought they deserve a fan after being behind with 0:3. The game ended 3:3 and colombia instead of Chile was qualified. I hadn't found new friends this night until it was sure that Chile was qualified, too.

 

 

 

 

After two weeks in the headwinds of Argentina (Blog-Post here), I crossed the border into Chile. It was a big relief. After climbing the Andes I could see my destination almost welcoming me. A shuttle bus took my bike and me through the tunnel which connects the both rivials. The Andes are a natural frontier but furthermore Argentina and Chile do their best to protect the local fauna and flora. Whereas France and most wine regions in Europe suffered of phylloxera louse which means that the country's grapevines have to begrafted, the vineyards of Chile were not effected. Some old grapes of Europe just excist in the In the Valle Central around Santiago and are extincet in theit old homelands. The climate is dry with an average of 38 centimeters of rain and little risk of springtime frost. Perfect for a tasty wine which I tried here and than and it always tasted delicious. In Argentina I camped on a vineyard and the landlord explained me, that the purity of the wine can be tasted in it. I read that the wine experts agree that the most apparent benefit is the financial aspect of no need to graft their rootstock and incur that added cost of planting. For me the most importance is that it is cheap and good, so I agree to all as long as I get drunk with a winegrower.

To protect the nature the both nations installed control points at the borders and even in the nations. You are not allowed to bring fresh food like fruits, wood or flowers. Even my nuts I had to eat so I stopped in front of the border, the first check point, and ate everything which is on the banned-list. Moreover you are forced to pass a cleaning station. Sprinkler are used to protect the following district of being contaminated. I saw it just before this toxic drizzle could ruin my health and went through the opposing traffic to avoid it. Chile is called "island" by many geographs course of its natural borders. In the north the Atacama desrt, the driest place on earth is a good protection and after passing it by bicycle I can totally understand why. Theeast border are the mountains of the Andes. Even if the Andes get lower in the south the changing landscape is a great frontier. Glaciers and hundreds of islands make it still hard to even travel in southern Chile. The west of Chile has a shore of the Pacific Ocean and all together makes Chile this special place on the earth. Even the Inca-Imperium had hard times to watch over this outland, which is hilarious long and measures on its widest area just 300km. After cycling uphill in Argentina I assumed the same landscape in Chile but it changed completely. Even the River looked better. Suddenly I was surrounded by nature. I flew down through a long tunnel which one side was consisting of a mix of concrete and glas. The view was gorgeous and a feeling of total freedom. I adjusted my brakes and had to use them immediately. The famous "Way of 365 Curves" is spectacular. The highlight are 29 serpintines which were under construction. After some talks I passed the stop signs and the road was empty to fly down the road, left, right and passing several tunnels,

 

Entering Santiago at the late evening was not a nice image. After cycling the last mountain I saw on my right side a abandoned vineyard with a totally destructed house. I put my tent and watched the sun set and the red shining mountains of the Andes before I ffelt asleep. As a result of the open door I woke up with a shitload of ants which fortunately prefered to do something else than running over me. I packed my thinngs but just 3km after I started my day I heard my tire exploding. I planned to cycle on three old tires to Santiago. There I would upgrade to be able to cycle the hard but wonderful Carratera Austral in the south of Chile. 20km before I would put my bike away for 50 days of backpaking and chillout I heard this bang and had to hitch a hike into the capital. He brought me to a street with 28 bicyle shops and I found a sparepart and began my search for the caa de ciclistas. Three of them were announced in the internet. Apparently none excist in reality. My way to find out about this misinformation was a strange one. I found WiFi and foud out about the first. He had one but now it is not a casa de ciclistas anymore. I started to climb to the second CdC because the third e-mail did not work. On my way I suprisingly saw real German fire trucks. As a took a more intense look I could discover that the whole station was German. Founded by Germany tey kept like this. All over German flags, inventory. Everything written in German and of course the place was ostentatious for a latin fire station. I asked for accomodation, took a shower, watched tv in a part room in the basement and suddenly I was confronted with the news that the commandante decided I could not stay. Shit. On my map it looked close to the CdC. Instead of going back into the city I began the search. The scenery changed dramatically. Suddenly I cycled straight uphill into a rich area with privat ground. I wished that the address was wrong and no bad joke. I rung the bell and a little girl opened the door. To her misfortune she could not understand a word of mine.

 

"¡Puedo hablar con tu padres?"

"¡Que?"

"Tu padres. ¡Donde estan?

"¡Que?"

 

She did this "what?" five times until I saw a arm grabbing her, pulling her in. A loud slap later I felt miserable. The mother did not want to speak with me, her son answered my question. There was no CdC and moreover I was the first idiot to cycle there.

My search for a camping was without a chance. Rich people do not want you in their backyard. Schools or other institutions of rich people neither. Beside the great view on the orange sky over Santiago, the seting sun made a bit nervous. I asked Alan for directions and after a small talk he invited me to stay for the night. Playing Playstation and having my on bed was not an ending I expected as I cyled direction center in the begining night with empty batteries for me front light.

The next days I spend with Armin and Tevor, who arrived in the city as well. Some last days before Niseema should arrive. But this is a new story, told in the next post about Chile.