Day 53 - we're going on a lake hunt...

San Martin de los Andes to camping by a beautiful lake (50km) 1000m of ascent (standard these days!!)

Sunday 23rd October

After a fairly terrible night sleep, we allowed ourselves a slightly lazy morning. I left Ant sleeping and went for a wonder around this beautiful ski town to find a supermarket and stock up. A lovely peaceful stroll at 9am on a Sunday and the town half asleep, but it was beautiful and thankfully had a very large well stocked supermarket - brilliant - we might be camping the next couple of days so good to stock up.

We hit the road around lunchtime and realised just how beautiful the outskirts of this town are. Wonderful lake surrounded by beautiful snow topped mountains. Absolutely stunning.
And good job too, the way our legs were feeling we were going to need to keep our eyes busy to help our mind shut out the burn. Man we were feeling the hours we put in yesterday and our legs were just plain refusing to exist!

Our day started with a 700m climb over 17km and really tested our legs. They were simply empty! But wow, what views were were treated to. There were so many cyclists out on the roads too, unloaded, fast, speedy road-type chaps (not so many chapesses!), but nice to see our kindred spirits out and about.

So our day chugged on, stopping at miradores to look at the views, snacking in glorious vistas, and wondering when our legs would wake up!
Once the hill went away, the head winds kicked in (of course!), but we didn't mind too much, the views were still lakey, mountainy, and stunning. We would also most likely be camping tonight so it was simply a case of whatever we get done today, we don't have to do tomorrow. We were aiming for anything between 50 and 80km to make tomorrow more palatable, but at the rate our legs were spinning even getting to 40 would be an achievement!

We were now cycling the rolling lake district, on tarmac roads (thank you!!),   back up to over 1000m altitude - hello lungs, and feeling like we were cycling more and more into the middle of nowhere.

Once we'd passed our 50km target we decided to let the campsites (or lack thereof) dictate our distance.

An wow. We stumbled across a "free campsite" - an area in the national park set aside for camping, fires and all other activities otherwise banned in this beautiful region. And what a beautiful spot it was!

We didn't care that it didn't have any facilities, nature had provided a beautiful lake (and fairly ice cold - thanks snow melt!) - for us to freshen up in, and there was just about enough wood around to collect and make a fire.
It was quite simply the most glorious camp spot I think I've ever stayed in. Stunning.

Day 52 - a challenge worth taking

Puerto del Fay to San Martin de los Andes (Saturday 22nd October)

The challenge - 65km... in under 5hours... on rippio... mostly uphill... with sketchy downs thrown in

The prize - a home before dark

The penalty - cycling rippio in the dark... or camping with limited food... no thanks!

Today was amazing! Brutal, like doing five tough gym work outs in one long back to back session, but amazing!

Why set such a daft challenge? Well our boat to get to the other side of the lake left daily at 1pm, arriving 10km short of the Argentinian border at 2.30pm. Possible places to stay were either 10km into Argentina, giving us a very short day today, followed by a short day tomorrow, or San Martin, 55km into Argentina, giving us a long tough day today, but a potentially beautiful home for tonight- a small touristy mountain town, with many hotels, campsites and restaurants. Plus, we just LOVE a challenge!!

The boat time at least gave us an excuse to enjoy a very long a leisurely breakfast in our little cabaña, before we packed up and set about sourcing supplies for the day. Two shops a large bottle of coke and two bread rolls later we were slightly nervous, but will be forever grateful to the boatside cafe that made us 4 delicious sandwiches (2warm cheese, 2chicken and avocado), to take with us.

We met the two French cyclists again, and now, at the beginning rather than end of the day, we were much more capable of sustaining a long conversation. Marie and Christoph had started in Cusco, were in South America for 3months, before heading to New Zealand then Asia. Marie always wanted to travel the world and meet people. Interestingly she finds cycling frustrating on this count as you arrive at a town exhausted, eat, sleep, then leave the next day - this along with her weaker cycling strength than Christoph's, means she's cycled bits and back packed others - a very interesting perspective and one we'd not really appreciated. But as soon as we finished our conversation, Marie was busy chatting in fluent Spanish, energetically and enthusiastically to every interesting looking person on the boat. What a skill! We could easily see how cycle touring would be frustrating for her, but equally appreciated that trying to hold any sort of valuable conversation in Spanish would be frustrating for us! We made the right transportation choice then! Whilst Marie and I discussed the pros and cons of cycle touring, the trials and tribulations of tough terrain and long days; Christoph and Ant more helpfully compared and checked maps, shared tips and discussed possible routes through southern patagonia where the terrain looks like someone threw lumps of land in the sea and forgot to join them up! "Here there is a boat, but only one a week so you have to time it right to get there, here the boat takes 6-8hours, here it's the fastest moving glacier in the world, you can actually see it carve..." The conversation continued. As if she hadn't already made up her mind (she clearly had!) Marie declared she would take a flight from Pueto Mont - the other side of the lake district - back to Santiago, then head to Colombia for a few weeks if backpacking and meeting people, whilst Christoph navigated the Carreterra Austral. I simply smiled and grew more and more apprehensive, yet excited inside! I should also point out Marie and Christoph were probably at least 10 maybe 20years older than us!

The boat trip was beautiful. Indeed I believe people come to do this trip just for the sight-seeing, then head back. Huge rocky tree covered lumps, with crystal clear lake underneath them.

Ant checked the bikes - released some tyre pressure and checked all the bolts were tight - ready for the rocky road ahead. I caught up on the blog. We both ate sandwiches nom nom!
Then we were off! We decided to try to cycle with Marie and Christoph, but unfortunately Marie was finding the terrain sketchy and tough and very slow going. Indeed it was! Horrible bumpy rocky rippio. Our advantage was we've done a fair amount of it now, and like skiing, the more relaxed and fast you tackle things, the more control you have and easier it becomes. I love these sports, you know, the ones where you have to be ok being out of control to actually be IN control - messes with my control freak inside! Anyway, we were on a tight time line and Marie preferred to scream and swear at the road alone with Christoph (I feel her pain, I remember those first rippio, bike throwing down days in Peru!) so we pressed on and realised just how fast we've become on this horrible stuff, even if we still hate it!
Perhaps it was the challenge, perhaps the feeling of accomplishment, but we were travelling well, much faster than we'd thought we might, and strangely enjoying it! Did I just say that?!! I even cycled the whole way up a 15-20% short sharp bit, full of cobbles, without pushing or falling! At last!!

The 10km to the border was bone jerking, teeth chattering, rolling terrain, but the border came surprisingly quickly. A very sleepy border crossing and one of the most fun, with people more interested in our trip than the passports (and to the mild annoyance of my feminist inside, we've also learnt that if I go in first with a sweet sounding "hola, Buenos Dias" and a big smile, we have a much more friendly experience, wherever we go. Everyone here seems to like talking to me and not to Ant. He even gets a slightly cold, aloof, response from the same people who are chatty and friendly to me.  A shame really as they'd have much more comprehensible conversation with Ant - my verbal Spanish is still limited to "hello, nice day... Uh... monkey... apple" and even when they realise this, they talk to Ant through me!).
So border down, and us on our way, we soon realised the road was glorious! Ok not tarmacked, but as gravel roads go this was one of the best. Yes it was bumpy, but it was also firm and consolidated. Pot holes a plenty that would wreck a car, but easily navigable by bike and very fun to ride! Ant was in his element, cycling like elves through a tree lined forest alongside a beautiful lake and I was lapping up the scenery and really, really enjoying going fast and throwing Alan around underneath me to avoid the bumps. Wahooo!

We stopped for our remaining sandwiches at half way and Ant dipped his toes in a beautiful cold stream, sat like a river pixie on a rock, munching away. But not for long, it was time to get moving again. One thing that made this such a challenge was the lack of time. You see you can generally tackle anything if you have enough time - just plod on and get the job done at a steady rate - but the time pressure makes you go at it hard, and that's what really burns!

Next we had to tackle the big climb out of the lake and up towards San Martin, and man was it big!! Up and up and up, steep sections punctuated with hairpins from hell that swept up at ridiculous gradients and had kindly been scattered with horrible big stones to help the cars grip... But they only helped us curse and squeal as we had to fund power in our legs to ride on through them to not get the bike swiped out from underneath us.

At this point we realised that gravel roads are much better for us if they are small and unkempt. The minute some helpful bloke comes along with his work force and 'maintains' them by chucking a load of gravel down to fill in the cracks, is the minute we curse, slide and squeak.

Nevertheless we pushed on, still feeling strong and enjoying this powerplate gym session. After what seemed like forever we checked the map - 3km to the top before we start descending - wow and we thought we were nearly there! 3km on this stuff feels like forever! Still chug on up...

...and then ...relief! We could begin the hairy down - which was of course ups and downs and was littered with more and more rocky gravel as the road got busier. Thank fully all the cars seemed to be full of adventurous types who slowed right down to prevent a dust shower, the. Yelped and whooped and horn peeped, to show their support.

And the scenery seemed to do the same. It just got more and more spectacular as if to cheer us on too. Mountains with snow and looking just how mountains should look, peeked up on the horizon, overlooking this vast green plane that we were descending.

Next came the squiggledy roads leading down to the town, about 10km beneath us. Man if we thought the hairpins were tough on the way up, they were trickier on the way down and with tired legs, arms and minds.

Ooops... Skid, swerve, bump... Well I almost stayed up... But fell. Thank fully I've taken to riding rippio unclipped in trainers rather than cycling shoes to give added reassurance that I can stop myself if I fall... This time though I landed on my hand, but had been able to slow Alan down enough to prevent any real injury... Just a bruise. What a pair we are!

The wind got colder, the descent more tentative and hence mire scary for me (confidence fully disintergrated now!), but eventually we dropped into the lovely town that is San Martin.

Expensive, but lovely. We found a hosterier who's owners were away but which was being looked after by a cool guy, eager to give us route advice and chat journies and cycling.
A lovely and surprisingly well cooked steak and bottle of wine to celebrate the glorious day and successful challenge completion and we were ready to snooze and let our aching bodies recover!

Wow! What a day!!

Day 51 - Brutal, just brutal

Conaripe to Pueto Fay (55km) and another 1000m+ ascent day! Friday 21st October

I want him to have a voice (even if forced!) so I will give you Ant's summary before I continue:


"Today was short (in distance not time!) but incredibly steep. We climbed 1000m over 55km, with many good steep sketchy downs thrown in too! A nice road in the middle was solid, but sandwiched between two horribly steep gravelly sections that felt like cycling on a pebbled beach (try it if you dare!). And the day was punctuated with a personal favorite of mine, cars and trucks speeding past and throwing up dust all over us. We were really testing our strength, will power, breaks, balance, hand grips, Emma's arm strength as she pushed Alan uphill, and general ability to persevere and get the distance done".

So...

We started the day on a beautiful tarmacked road running alongside a river out of Conaripe. Wow! Perhaps the map was wrong and the road would be much better than the compacted gravel it promised. A few km later as we turned up the first steep hill of the day we realised that the map was indeed wrong - there was nothing compacted about this gravel at all.

The road bumped and swerved, throwing rippio, stones and sand up at us with each pedal stroke, and then tilted up to a lovely skiddy 20% that at times was impossible to ride up - even for Ant. And pushing two loaded bikes uphill is just the way we love to spend our Friday lunchtime!

Oh well only another 50km to go... Aghddhdjfkcndj!!!!

Our journey became a sequence of sweating and cursing our way up the road, then scraping and fearfully praying our way back down the other side - then repeat to infinitum.

Our conversation today was mostly about stones and pebbles - what caused them to be on some stretches of road and not others, what level of traffic did a road have to have to promote or relegate the number of stones, which sections were passable "come left it's good here... Oh wait... Bump bump pot hole... Clunk... Aghhh... Don't go left its pretty crazy... Aghhhh truck... Bugger".

And then we came to our turning, off the international road and round to follow a river valley downstream to a lake, just before our final destination. "Downstream towards a lake"... That sounds good right? Wrong! As usual to go down, this road went up, and up and up and up. Though this was at least the 'nice middle section' - the stones were firmly set into the mud and trees, and the ground was hard enough to be able to look up at the quite glorious scenery from time to time and spot the occasional waterfall. In fact its a shame we had to spend the morning looking at and contemplating the life of stones, as we had really been cycling through a beautiful part of the world. This path (sorry road... But let's face it... It was a path!!) vaguely resembled the start of the walk up from Chamonix to Flagere in summer and finally we were able to ride side by side, with very little traffic passing us. It even had a bus stop - a great place for lunch (at 4pm!).

Right 15km left and an easier road, we could do this right?

We gathered our strength, hopped on our bikes and headed towards our final turning onto the international road that would take us towards pueto fay and Argentina. This had all the promise of being a tarmacked road - 'international' - sounds big and important, and in fact it looks like it soon will be, but for now the workmen are satisfying themselves with pouring heaps of gravel onto the very wide track and not yet rolling it in. Brilliant! A 'nearly new' road in a purgatory worse than simply being old.

And man it was steep, really steep, and full of trucks and pick ups heading to and from the towns on a Friday evening - giving little consideration for the crazy cyclists trying to push, pedal, grind their way up it.

Eventually we came to the first town, 5km short of our destination and full of very tempting huts, cabanas, camping and, our favourite: 'domos' (a dome shaped cabin that looks and sounds cool - especially when you say it like a 4 year old!). But no. We should plug on as there is only one ferry a day from Puerto fay and we need to catch it if we're to get to Argentina.

A few km later and we found a couple of French cyclists - "why didn't you take this road" shows us road... "its tarmacked almost all the way"... Hmmm! Ours was prettier we told ourselves and a true adventure! They were trying to find the owners of a campsite, but of course it was closed... Again nothing opens till summer!  So they too only had one choice - to push on with us.

Another 200m climb and we reached the town with its shabby cabañas, hospedajes and ridiculously expensive boutique hotel (what's that doing here?!!). We found a beautiful looking cabaña, wooden, kitchen, sofas, bedrooms shower and lept at it. Then found out it was rather more like its owners who were getting increasingly stoned, hot box fashion in the restaurant next door! The door handle fell off, the shower worked intermittently, the water was sometimes warm!... But we managed to get supplies from the shop next door and engineer a supper of fried potatoes and omelette... Yum! Followed by my own new invention - three bananas fried in butter and sugar until they become mush... Yummy!

Then we zonked down for a good night sleep, only to be woken every hour by a dog that was barking at his own existence. Hmmm!

Day 50 - hide and seek with a volcano

Pucon to Conaripe (75km) Thursday 20th October (another 1000m climbing day, but we didn't know it until the end!)

Funny thing about traveling is just as you get attached to a place it's time to leave. With every longing to stay, you remember the next cool place you might find on the way. If we hadn't left Cusco we'd not have found  Copacanaba; If we hadn't left Copacanaba we'd not have found  San Pedro de Atacama; the list goes on... Jujuy, Salta, Mendoza, Santiago, Pichilemu, Buchapereru, Concepcion, Pucon... Where's next to add to the list?

That's the question you have to ask yourself as you leave a beautiful place, "where's next?". That way you get excited about what's to come rather than asking the question "why can't we stay", which would only promote feelings of a desire to be in one place, have a base and a home, which inevitably leads to missing home...

...so where next...???

Tonight we'd be sleeping the other side of the volcano - at Conaripe, the little town that could... If it wanted to!

It has everything that Pucon has, and yet lacks everything that Pucon has. It has the volcano, the rivers for rafting, the beautiful setting, many more thermal spas, waterfalls... But not the alpine-esque tourist infrastructure to make it top-notch adventure town. Clearly it's a tourist location, camp sites a plenty, cabañas, restaurants, but a sleepy one (at least in shoulder season), with many of the above closed and shabby looking - a town clearly waiting for Summer and (unlike Pucon) is refusing to come out and play any sooner.

So that was where next... But how?

We cycled West from Pucon sandwiched between a beautiful lake and traffic. The road to Villirica was good, but full of people wanting to get between to two towns, including many dreaded busses (drawback of nice tourist reputation). The wind was on our back though so we made good progress on the rolling terrain.

20km later we were heading South East, circumnavigating the Volcano, which would hide between towns and trees, then eventually reward our big climb out of Villiarica by peeking out from behind gaps in trees to say hello.

Playing spot the volcano and watching the scenery was really all that kept us going today.  A beautiful part of the world that tricks you into thinking it's easy cycling, because your eyes and mind are so well occupied. But whilst stopping for lunch in our favourite lunch stopping location, a bus stop (seats and shelter - what more do you need?!), we both confessed over our empanadas that we were finding it tough physically.

This was a day that was most definitely good for the mind, but hard on the legs!

So digging deep and channeling Jens Voight, we told our legs to shut up and continued to climb. We had no idea how climby our road would get or when it would decide to be un-climby again, we just got on with it.

One thing we realised is that when we're feeling beat, our conversation (which usually fluctuates from philosophical bubble babble, family & friends, home life, Christmas plans, Chamonix, would you rather (usually limited to types of terrain we could be cycling, discussing traditions and cultures we've seen in compare and contrast, future route options ... ), resorts to that of a six year old:

Emma "tree"
Ant "pretty tree"
Emma "where volcano go?"
Ant "there he is!"
Ant "cow"
Emma "moo"
Emma "sheep... Fluffy sheep"
Emma " ooooh lake"
Ant "pretty lake"
Ant " hill"
Emma strops a little
Emma "windy"
Ant says nothing but looks like he wants to punch the wind

And so it goes on.

This was one of those days when our six year old selves emerged just after half way and stayed with us.

As we descended towards Lican Ray, the town before our final stop, we were treated to beautiful lake and volcano views... And flies!! Clearly they had come out with the Sun that was beaming all day.

Emma "yukky yuk... Spit... Close mouth... Cough"
Ant "flies"
Ant "ouch" (even small flies hurt when they hit you at a relative velocity of more than 40km/h)
Ant "buggers"
Emma "mmm mmm mmmmmm" (trying to speak with mouth closed)


Flies aside, it really was a beautiful decent and meant we were now just 15km from Conaripe with plenty of time in hand. Enough, in fact, to stop for our final pastry to fuel us the rest of the way... Damn it, people actually using this bus stop! Will have to resort to choice number two... Barrier low enough for us to perch on, high enough for boys to lean on.

We came into Conaripe and soon both agreed that camping looked very appealing (says something about our opinion of the hotels on offer - strangely al lining the main road and none lining the lake?!), plus we'd not camped for a while and would be good to save some money.

We surveyed the campsites (which lined the lake) and picked our home because it was the only one open!! A lovely helpful and very interested man owned the site and had Bobby, the one-eyed, old shaggy dog to guard it. Bobby had all the bark but really no bite, no bite at all - mostly because he seemed to find distances very hard to judge. But he did like keeping us company whilst we set up camp and thankfully guarded our things well whilst we ventured into town for feeding time.
Some home made chips from real potatoes to accompany salmon and chicken and we were happy. We snuggled into our tent and got ready for tomorrow - it would likely be a big day on mostly gravel... So we needed good sleep and knew we'd sleep well with Bobby there to guard us.

3am. Emma stirs to find Ant's in Meer cat pose peeking out the gap in the tent...
Emma "you ok"
Ant "shhh animal... Food bag"
Emma "what is it"
Ant "don't know, racoon? mini bear?"
Animal "claw, paw, claw" (trying to get into our butter)
Ant "shooooo shooo "
Animal "meeeow"

Seems Bobby's not quite the  guard we'd hoped dog after all!

Pucon - the Chamonix of the Southern Hemisphere!

(Tuesday 18th to Thursday 20th October).

At some point on the 4hour bus trip to Temuco, and several hours after we'd got over the trauma of convincing the conductors to put the bikes on the bus (there was plenty of space in the luggage compartment... Seriously!), I'd managed to make headway with the blog and Ant suggested an amendment to our route.

We'd planned to cycle from Temuco towards the first lake Villirica (whoes name reminds me too much of the town Billericay in Essex!), then south from there. But after much consideration of the map and guide book, Ant came up with what we would later realise was an excellent plan.

Get a second bus from Temuco to Pucon so we could actually see the culinary and adventure capital of Sur Chile. Otherwise we would have missed it or had to do some serious back tracking. We left it to the cycle touring gods to decide - if we could find a bus that was happy to take bikes we would go, otherwise we'd get on our bikes...

...the bus was more than happy to take bikes and us, and left in half an our - perfect! Just enough time for Ant to source some lunch. Off he trotted leaving me to mind the boys at the bus station. He came back with a donut looking fried bread and... An egg... Literally an egg... In its shell! Hilarious. Turns out he'd asked for 'bread with egg' and that's quite literally what he got! Not quite the omelette he was hoping for, but at least the egg was boiled and warm inside!

So we headed south under the cover of a bus, and watched the weather get rainier and colder from the safety of the bus window.
Arriving in Pucon at around 5pm severely underdressed in our shorts and t shirts (we needed at least another 2layers and waterproofs here!), we quickly changed our plan of cycling to a cool, guide book recommended Hostal the other side of town and settled for the rather nice looking one near the bus station "Hostal alto Panguin". It was lovely inside, all new clean and shiny with an amazing shower and very reasonably priced. Moreover, the owners were delighted to house us for the night - they buzzed around almost singing with delight as they showed us the choice of rooms!

So we settled in, then ventured onto the main street to find the guidebook recommended restaurant "Trawen" - less because of the food recommendation (though it did sound good!), but more because of the sentence "houses the best craft ale selection in town".
As we wondered the streets we immediately fell in love with this southern ski resort. It could have been plucked out of the alps and dropped here. It really would be hard to not stay at least another day!

We made ourselves the promise - either we leave tomorrow, or we do something adventurous tomorrow and stay another night (it's not like we were short of options, climb the active volcano, raft, hike, trek, kayak, even ski... The list and tour operators was endless!).
The morning came and there was no way we were leaving, so we booked in for another night and set about finding someone to take us rafting.

At 11am we were on our way to the white waters with Florencia (a tour company who I can't recommend enough! They were brilliant).
By 12 we were on the water and I was yet again learning to break my fear of all things wet and wavey! Our guide was brilliant, he added enough theatre to the experience to make us anticipate what was coming, but navigated us through the rapids expertly - no mean task given we were perhaps the 6 least coordinated folk he'd ever seen in a boat!! We also had a guy in a safety raft ready to catch us if we flipped, and another dude in a kayak taking the most brilliant pictures! At one point he gave us the opportunity to 'swim' a section of rapids instead of rafting them. Ant was the only crew member crazy enough to take him up on this offer, and looked slightly worse for wear for it! He hopped over board into the freezing cold water, gasping for breath, and floated downstream whilst being swept by 2m high waves! Thankfully our guide never let him get more than a few feet away from the boat and quickly hauled him back in as if he was as light as a feather. Exhilarating by all accounts!
So pleased we stayed the extra day, what an awesome way to see the valley, volcano and beautiful countryside.

After left over lunch of our spag bol, we mooched into town, watched the sunset over the volcano and lake (glorious) and after wondering around this lovely place, found latitude 39, an American bar, to drink beer and eat tacos and hamburgers.
Brilliant day!

Concepcion

Sunday 16th to Tuesday 18th October

Firstly let's clear a few things up:
1- yes this IS the name of a city on south middle Chile's coast line
2- no I've not forgotten how to spell (on this occasion at least!) it IS actually spelled like that (though ironically im not entirely sure if that's the correct way of saying spelled / spelt (or is that a flour?)... Anyway
3- no it's not a Beckham esque nickname we gave to a town... Really!!

So having booked a whole two nights in Concepcion, to do admin and source some bike supplies and a decent camping stove, we realised, after face timing Fran and having a very lovely and lazy, that it was indeed a Sunday. That means nothing is open here, and no call centres are open at home for us to complete our admin. Only one thing for it. Stay another night!

This was actually contrary to what we wanted to do. As much as we loved the flat, we were ready to be on the move again, especially after our seaside break earlier in the week. But hey - cycle touring lottery. There are far worst places to spend a day in the world!

So we continued to be lazy on the Sunday, and just about managed to complete task 1 out of a million... Do some washing... But not without its challenges. How much detergent to put in the machine? Ant insisted the packet implied we needed it all, my intuition said that was too much. So a comedy sketch ensued with us emptying a whole packet of washing powder into the machine, playing with coins until it finally worked, then crossed our fingers! Somewhere between the flat, the washing room and our wardrobe, one of my cycling gloves was hiding. We spent at least an hour retracing our steps, but he was hiding good! A mystery!

Soon it was Monday, and this time we'd decided to get up early. For us that meant out by 10am. By lunch time we'd arranged flights home for December, sorted house admin, bought a camping stove and bowl, found a new pair of cycling gloves (Emma weeps a little), and had lunch!

Feeling very pleased with ourselves we treated ourselves to a stroll around the city and the central plaza. We also watched one of the many political party demonstrations (municipal elections in Chile on October 28th so every town and house is full of posters for many candidates... All with thumbs up and family members smiling in support!).

By dinner time we'd bought me some new socks (naughty toes peeping through all of mine now!), found presents to send home to some lucky recipients, sorted through our clothes to also send home some to lighten the load for the last month, negotiated the postal system and actually managed to send stuff home, bought stuff for dinner - enough to make sufficient spag bol for the entire neighbourhood, drank the better part of a bottle of wine (selected purely for its name and picture... Bicicletta!), watched a program about the American election, planned our route further south, cooked dinner and were ready to sit down to eat some good home cooked grub, satisfied with everything we'd accomplished today.

So our route south would start with a bus to Temuco tomorrow to get to the cool areas (lake district and Patagonia) with (hopefully!) time to play at the end, and then we would be back on our bikes.

Perhaps it was the sunny day (finally!), or our own satisfaction, but Concepcion wasn't the concrete jungle we'd been dreading - actually a rather pleasant city with a leafy square.

Day 49 - the day Alan was brave

Colemu to Concepcion. Saturday 15th October (80km)

As we woke up, slightly high from furniture polish, we decided to aim to be on the road by 10.30. We nommed down a few bowls of cereal, packed up quickly, showered and hit the road. But not before we were accosted again by Steve (the motor cyclist we'd met the previous night who had been on the road for a year from Canada and who fuelled our conversation for the day allowing us to spend time debating the merits and drawbacks of both methods of transport whilst we pedalled on). Steve liked to talk - a lot - more of an orator than a conversationalist, but a pleasant 60year old chap nonetheless who couldn't understand why we didn't take tinned food with us - just in case... Have you ever carried a bunch of tin cans uphill Steve?

So we were eventually on the road by 11am after a bakery stop to grab many pastries. A quick glance at the GPS and Ant realised we had climbed over 1000m yesterday - no wonder our legs were finding it difficult today! That's like a Peru day disguised in lots of rolling lumps! We'd later also realise we were to do similar today too, but for now we just plugged up the climb out of town.
Now today was a very eventful day!


As we were climbing out the town on a fairly busy road and going much slower than the traffic (always makes it a bit more sketchy), a small shaggy dog saw us, got excited, alerted his bigger Alsatian type of buddy, then they both sprinted out their garden, towards the road to cross it and eat us...

...except at the same time a truck came the other way. Big Alsatian had the sense to stay in the shoulder and sacrifice eating us to save his life. Small unintelligent shaggy mutt had no such sense and was only saved by the fact he was much smaller than the bumper. A thump, skid and whine later and he was running (thankfully!) out the other side of the truck to continue his chase on our side of the road. But as soon as he reached the shoulder he realised he was quite shocked and had in fact just been hit by a truck. He stopped and whined a little, before trotting back to his garden, whilst bigger dog seemed to tut and shake his head.
An adrenaline buzzing moment for us, dog chase, truck, ouch, poor guy... But hopefully one that will teach shaggy dog never to chase bikes again.

A few km later we were joined by a collie. He came out his garden, stopped to look both ways before eventually crossing the road very safely, then ran alongside us as if to say 'ok guys, where are we going?'. Every time he heard a car, he stopped, looked to see where it was coming from, and got off the road onto the verge accordingly, then when safe, he continued his venture. He was a happy sole, who reignited our faith in pups - but not quite our trust - you just never know what they will do!

After about Half an hour on the road, and still on the climb, we felt a few spots of rain. Should we waterproof up? No. It's refreshing, not very heavy and cooling (after all we were sweating and overheating up this hill). About another half an hour later and we resembled shivering drenched rats, cycling under far clouds through a sheeting downpour in soaking wet kit. Oops.

There was only one thing for it - stop under a tree to eat pastries!

Bellies fuelled and waterproofs on we chugged along in weather that now resembled a cold February day. Ant was quite literally in his element. Much better to be cold and rainy than over heating. I was also surprisingly upbeat - adventure!!

Then came our first decision. Busy road direct to Concepcion, or quiet road, slightly indirect, back to coast then down. We chose option 2 and headed back across the coastal hills away from the trucks and busses towards the sea.
This was a much more pleasant road and one we could actually enjoy. But after about 20km my body ran out of sugar and my head dropped as I started to shiver (need much more fuel to keep warm in cold weather and my kit was still soaking under my waterproof - Ant's had dried - I'm sure there's some kit analysis to be done here Tom!

At my request we stopped at the top of a hill to eat more pastries and sugar up. This turned out to be an error. We stopped just long enough to get really cold at the top of a hill which would become the start of a long descent into the coastal town on route to Conception.

Man that descent was windy, cold and soaking wet and left us dreaming of all the tea shops we would probably never find in the town (got to remember this is actually chile and not north Devon - no cream teas for us!).

We shakily found the town and its plaza and hoped for some sort of warm restaurant ... And then we saw it... A coffee shop called Ambar, with a wonderful waitress who said we could put the bikes inside (wow!) so we could get dry and warm whilst we drank really yummy coffee and ate sandwiches and hamburgers!!! Dreams can come true! Ok so no cream scones but almost!

My shoes were so wet they made a puddle on the floor, so I realised a kit change would probably be sensible! Having stripped all my wet kit off and replaced it with lovely warm dry clothes, I was much happier and living my coffee! (squirty cream on top - yeah baby!).

We eventually dragged ourselves back into the downpour, ready to tackle the remaining 30km to Concepcion. As we hit the coast road we realised two things 1- there was a hideously strong wind... On our backs!! Wahoo!! 2- there was of course a steep climb out of the town just like there had been a descent into it.

We started plugging on up and into the rain and then something strange happened. A pick up with a very friendly family offered us a lift to the top of the hill. Wow! Yes please! We threw the boys into the truck and hopped in. A few minutes later and there was a gasp from the driver... Bicicletta!

Alan!!! He'd jumped off the back, obviously annoyed that we weren't cycling. We hopped out the car and ran down the road to rescue him and survey the damage before any other cars came and ran him over.

Luckily he's a tough chap and had only suffered a handle bar scrape and a saddle bump that left the saddle rather wonkey and a little torn. But wow! We seriously thought our trip was over when we saw him lying there as a casualty... Amazing. Ant somehow managed to gather his strength and bend the saddle post back to almost normal. I rescued our pastries from the wet grubby roadside and we hopped back in the truck - this time securing both boys in tightly with a rope!

Once we reached the top we, all four, hopped out and continued our venture into Concepcion. Shaken but not broken, we tackled the busy roads into the city and after a near death encounter between Ant and a stupid stupid truck, we arrived at the apartment we had booked for a few days (we needed to get some washing done and had a ton of admin to catch up with).

After a lovely Peruvian meal in a local restaurant, we found a supermarket, stocked up the apartment with all things tea and bacon, and settled in to let our little hearts (and Alan!) recover from the crazy day!

Day 48 - bye bye ocean

Buchupureo to Coelemu - Friday 14th October 80km

So we finally managed to say goodbye to our lovely cabin and set off up the cliff towards the next and final coastal town before we head inland.  After a good steep climb and 10km later we swept down into the town, picked up supplies and said goodbye to the sea one final time, then turned the corner to head inland.
Of course this meant a steep climb over the cliffs and after the stormy weather it was incredibly warm, sticky and humid. Sweat pouring, but very pleased to be back on our bikes, we settled into the climb and enjoyed churning the pedals.

After a few km climbing Ant said jokingly, "looks like we've got a 10km climb ahead of us!!!", both of us chuckling - we knew it was likely to be a long climb but thought 10km was a vast over estimate.

Almost exactly 10km later, after much sweat, thankfully no blood, and no tears, we finally started the lovely rolling descent. A steep climb up, then gently down to lose just a bit of altitude - then repeat.

45km into our day and we swooped down into Querihue (a rough approximation of the actual town name). We sat in the plaza, made avocado bread rolls (our new favourite lunch), grabbed some cash, then set off down the road, along the river valley towards Coelemu - our next stop on route to Concepcion.
Although busier, this road was less hilly and more gentle rolling lumps (joys of being slightly more inland), so we made good progress and eventually found a town just short of our final goal. It had three small hostals and was a tempting place to stop. Not really a town, just a cluster of houses along the main road - but it definitely had places to sleep. We'd been unsure if we would find a home in either town so this was appealing.
But getting the extra 10km under our belt today and reaching Coelemu would help us tomorrow so we took the chance.

As we reached Coelemu, we were greeted by the brown sign of hope - showing what services it has in pictures - this one showed the two pictures that make us happy - knives and forks; and a bed.

After several laps around the plaza and knitted streets surrounding it, we eventually found the hotel. Ok it was about 6pm in a Friday night so perhaps the owners had been enjoying their evening, but Ant reported a very Faulty Towers experience of trying to get a room, whilst I waited watching the boys.

One lady wasn't sure is they wanted to give us a room (couldn't be bothered), the next said yes sure, they then spent a while trying to open a room and failing, then settled on the room outside with sliding patio doors and a distinct smell of furniture polish. It was clean and cosy enough, with its own bathroom so we were more than happy - even if we did have to use our bike padlock to add some sort of security to the unlockable patio doors!
We found a bar that sold yummy warm sandwiches and chips, and bumped into an amazing bakery on route.

So happy and cozy we settled down for Poldark.

A seaside stroll

Wednesday 12th October - Thursday 13th October

We rolled over as the alarm went off at 9am and peeked out the curtains. The smell of wet trees, rain, storm and sea was enough to tempt us to stay another day. Well why start cycling in this downpour when we have a beautiful home here. Plus we could walk to the nearest town and pick up supplies for all the food we'd been craving - porridge oats, bread, baked potatoes, eggs, bacon, flour (pancakes of course!), cheese, strawberries, avocados, milk, cereal, tea... Just homely basics we were longing for! In fairness, I should mention that I'd made poor Ant cycle to the nearest town last night when we got here so that we had at least some of this for today, which meant we could enjoy a lazy morning of tea drinking, cereal eating and bacon frying to fuel us enough for the walk back to town to get more food!

The walk itself was beautiful. A good stormy day, spitting with rain, trotting along the black volcanic sands, next to the roaring Pacific. With sea on our left, a forest on our right and a deserted beach ahead we walked for hours. Well passed the town. But that was more than ok. We were in our element. Then we headed through the beautiful smelling forest aiming back towards the town where we picked up a little lady dog, very friendly and keen to follow us (we gave up our many failed attempts of shoeing her away and let her just trot alongside us). She even waited patiently outside the shop for us, with only a few strawberry ends for a reward!

We took a slightly more direct route back along the beach, and found our new friend was there every step of the way. She even snuggled in closer when other bigger scarier dogs had a go at her, despite my very clear explanation that I wouldn't protect her in a fight... Clearly she can't speak English! About a km away from home when we thought we might have finally lost her to a ginger cute looking boy dog, we turned around to find them both stalking us. At this rate it wouldn't be long before the pied piper would be jealous! So we strolled along the beach with our new found family, watching them chase birds, each other, and their tails, and eventually left them sitting outside the gate to our cabins while we baked potatoes, made pancakes, drank tea and beer, and watched a film.

What a glorious day. It will be super sad to leave here tomorrow...

...so we didn't!! Oops!


The heavens were flooding open today and our cabin was so lovely and warm. So we stayed another day.

We walked the other way along the cliffs, watched surfing, scrambled across rocks, ate chips and steamed seafood broth at the restaurant, with a beer of course, wondered into , gained boy ginger stalker dog again for mist of the walk, then snuggled down again sheltering out the rain.

What a glorious couple of days in this crazy spot in the middle of Chile - how lucky we were to stumble across this place.

Day 47 - Sunshine on a rainy day

Chanco to Buchupureo (70km) Tuesday 11th October

Today was another beautiful days cycling. This time the hills and farms allowed us to get regular glimpses of the roaring pacific ocean, its massive surf and the brave and talented soles venturing out with their boards!

Our early start meant we could do something we rarely do - stop to make a second breakfast that was still early enough not even to call brunch! If only we have more morning will power every day could be like this! We were armed with fruit, yoghurt, bread and avocado that wed picked up from the supermarket which should be enough for today and once we reached the P town we allowed ourselves the treat of sitting by the beach watching the sea for a whole 20minutes eating said second breakfast and watching men collect slate from the rocks and take it directly to their house over the road to build with - kinda cool!

As well as the lure of the sea, we'd chosen this stopping point as it was just before a big climb (that looked between 15-20%) up the cliff to get out of town... Let's delay that a bit!
When we tackeled it we realised we weren't wrong on our estimation of its steepness, but we had learnt from yesterday - there would be no powering up these short sharpies, but instead we would sit back and spin our little legs in the lowest gear. If I'm honest, even that is tough at 20%, but our bellies filled with yoghurt and our minds with sea we were able to take it in our stride.

This set the scene for the day. Sharp ups, sharp downs and the occasional flat running alongside the sea, with strong head winds of course. And as the day went on even the occasional drop of rain. We couldn't quite believe that at first - must be birds spitting on us... Nope actual rain drops. Infrequent enough to be pleasant rather than drenching thankfully.

About 20km into this beautiful day we were anxious. The road turned from red on the map, to yellow. This had meant rippio was imminent in the past, but with the maps her being as reliable as Southern Trains, who knew!?  Just after the yellow was supposed to start and about 30km in, we stopped on a bridge for lunch, which itself looked fairly well kept, and very newly tarmacked. Could it be the yellow had recently turned to red?! Having learnt not to count our chickens in South America, we decided just to take things as they came.

Our lunch stop atop the bridge was beautiful. It ran about 50m high above a steep tree lined gorge that took a river to the sea about 100m in front of us. Beautiful. And we had home made avocado sandwiches to make us happy!
The road continued to sweep up and down steeply along the cliffs, but also continued to be tarmac - despite the challenge of the 15% gradients, we were loving it. We even stopped to take a photo of a caterpillar navigating its way between the tarmac and a mudslide.

The only dilema of the day was where to stay. There was the town beginning with B, which would come first, then the town beginning with C which would come second (sorry, can't be bothered to write them out in full!). Both were in the guide book (a rarity for the tiny places we've cycled through in central Chile) and 'B' sounded more beautiful with a boutique hotel out of town but definitely less amenities, and C sounded more promising on the restaurant front. Hmm.

We did what only we could do, ignore the choice, keep cycling and see what we fancy when we get there. The centre of B was fairly deserted with a few small hospidajes and several dogs. Let's keep going and see what we find. About 2km along and having decided the hotel was lovely but probably not lovely enough to warrant its price tag, we swept down into this beautiful cove, with big waves, brave surfers, a cool quaint looking restaurant and signs advertising cabañas.

Having decided we should definitely keep pressing on only 2km ago, we now decided we should definitely try to stay. It was simply too beautiful and isolated a place not to enjoy. Relieved that there was someone at the reception for the mirador cabañas (wood cabins on the hill overlooking the sea but sheltered by big eucalyptus trees), we took one for a night and got excited about cooking our own breakfast tomorrow in our little home (I might have made Ant cycle back to the nearest town for supplies on the promise of wrapping up and watching surfing when he got back). 


Tonight though we would try that restaurant - it looked too good to miss and there would clearly be fresh fish brought in here daily (and I've just about got over my fish phobia post Peru sickness - it only took 3 months!!).
As we sat, drinking Chilean wine and eating our muddled up food order (starters for mains, mains for starters, all very tasty!) we noticed the skies had opened and we were now snuggled inside watching the rain sheet out of the sky. There was something very comforting and strangely inviting about this. We watched a film back in our cabin and snuggled in for the night.  It might take a fair amount to make us leave this lovely part of the world tomorrow morning!

Day 46 - Interval training - oh dear!

Constitution to Chanco (70km) - Monday 10th October (bank holiday)

After a huge breakfast to sit on top of the enormous feast last night, we set off to the one place we needed to go - the supermarket to buy more food of course! A few empanadas, some 100% juice (wow no sugar, sweetener or preservatives... We might be dreaming!) and ice cold water and we were ready to start our day.

Feeling slightly coldy, I tentatively asked Ant if he expected any big hills "Na, just the rolling stuff".

An hour later, when we were still slugging up the huge steep hill out of Constitution, we thought perhaps we'd not quite read the contour lines right! We were finding it tough and for once actually sweating - a new phenomenon on this trip. It was finally humid enough for our lips not to be cracked, but that evidently had it's downfalls.

The top of the climb came and we reached the rolling section, which sneakily had caught us out. You see, small sharp ups can usually be taken rapidly, standing up in the same gear - blast them out, maintain speed and enjoy the ride. This is exactly what we were both doing, and enjoying it initially. But after our lunch stop at 30km (which despite cycling enticingly close to the Pacific was inland enough to feel more farm less ocean), we realised our error. By beating it up the short sharp inclines, we'd effectively spent the whole morning interval training and now our legs had disappeared.
It was ok though, as we set off we realised the ups were getting steeper and longer, and the flats and downs were throwing a huge head wind at us (of course!) making us work hard to go down and well as up and ensuring we had absolutely no rest at all!! Needless to say we were now plugging up hill in our most spinney gears realising the error of our earlier ways!

We had two options for our home tonight, Chanco a small inland town (does it have a hostal?), or a place on the coast with a complicated name beginning with P, a further 10km along.  P looked more inviting, coastal with the promise of accommodation, but we hadn't yet decided our route towards conception - we could go inland for better roads, or stay on the 'route del mar' and possibly hit rippio, but have the sea besides us.
As I snuffled and sneezed away, we decided to aim for Chanco and make the decision tomorrow. It was closer and we were nackered.

The cycling was actually very beautiful. The fresh sea air, rolling farms, pine and eucalyptus forests and the occasional glimpse of the pacific, and relatively traffic free - a ride that our minds enjoyed, but our legs definitely did not!

So as we rode into Chanco, we said our hotel prayers and asked a kind looking lady if she knew anywhere to stay: "oh yes, lots of hotels on the square". Wow! Amazing! Not what we would expect from this sleepy old town! And as we rolled onto the square, not what we should have expected from this sleepy old town either! What were we thinking! Everyone knows in Chile you have to ask at least 3-4 people the same question and take an average of their answers and then you probably get the right answer. So having only found one (not many!) deserted and very shabby looking hospidaje (which would be more than sufficient if we could find the owner and a key!), I decided to ask the same question again. The next answer was simply " hostal? No. None here. Nothing. Not even a hospidaje". It should be noted this was said whilst standing almost in front of the hospidaje. Like I say take an average: Many add one, divided by 2 - that should mean there is at least one other place to stay here somewhere.


 We went cycling loops around the square and found a street with no sign of life but a Hostal sign almost hidden from view. After much exploring of the premises, Ant eventually found the owner who said we could have a room, with a double bed and bathroom, for one night - and what time would we like to leave in the morning? (hmmm we want to say something early in the pretense that we will be on the road before dusk, but we both know that's pretty much impossible with our sleeping habits "11am". This was quickly followed by a counter barter from the lady "no, 9am"... What?! Why ask then?!... We continued "ok, 10am"... "Hmmm..." She was clearly not just disappointed but also ashamed and frustrated " I have to make the bed for the next guests arriving in the afternoon"... Seriously how ling does that take! It doesn't look like you'll be doing that much cleaning from the look of the room!... Then finally after some.thought... "ok 10am"... Few... Even that was early for us. It would mean waking up at 8am, but at least we'd be on the road early.

So having settled into our home, we went about exploring the town (I fail to believe it really is a town if I'm honest!) for some food. Nope. Not much of that either! Thankfully we found a shack that sold meat baps 'churassco' (a new 'delicacy' that we've started to encounter that is not dissimilar to kebab meat, though only slightly less elephant's foot, and slightly more cow... But not much!). Would we like it with cheese of Italian? Hmm what a question. We managed to work out via hale from the very smiley couple who ran the place and by recalling a comment from our Santiago walking tour guide, that Italian was not a tanned smooth talker, but actually sources that look like the Italian flag - avocado pure, mayonnaise and (in this instance to Ant's relief) fresh tomato.

We asked if they sell beer (we felt we'd probably need it to get this down)... Nope... Wine? The smiley man smiled more... "oh you mean cola cola... Yes we have that...". He winked, smiled and took an empty glass coke bottle and filled it from a carton of red wine. Enjoy your coke. We did! And the sandwiches weren't that bad after all!

We didn't want more than one though so we ventured to the supermarket to look for our next course. Yep there was a huge supermarket here... Probably bigger than the town itself... Relief!

A few yoghurts and breakfast supplies later and we picked up a Chilean sim card from an unlikely shop in the square... At least we now had internet and the ability to call deserted hospidajes if we needed to.

We strolled around the streets to walk off our rather small supper, found a very large old tall tree for Ant to fall in love with and hug a little (boy likes trees), and stumbled across a very stumbly man, stumbling out of some sort of ex services beer festival. We said 'hola', he burped, we started walking away, he made friends with a lamp post that had kindly agreed to help him stand. We called him Gerald (he looked like a Gerald) and discussed the night we'd imagined he'd had, whether he had any friends that might help him, whether we should help him - although the answer may have been yes, we also concluded that we were by no means best placed to help him. I mean what would we do - approach and grab each of his two arms, whilst communicating "common let's get you home" in the only way we could, which unfortunately would of course have to be a game of charades that let's face it Gerald would probably have struggled to see let alone interpret. We decided this scenario would only mean more trauma for Gerald who would have seen two strange looking gringos approach, start acting out house in a 'kentucky fried chicken and a pizza hut' sort of fashion, then grab him by the arms and try to seemingly kidnap him... We thought it best to just walk on and conclude that he must have some friends who will eventually notice his absence and tow him home.

We got to the end of the street almost back at the square and decided to turn around to get one last glimpse of that huge tree... And plop, there was Gerald laying down star fish on his back asleep... Hmm. Poor Gerald, he'll probably feel that in the morning!

Day 45 - so much more than oranges

Lloca to Constitution (65km) - Sunday 9th October

After two cups of tea and a leisurely breakfast in our own little home (and Ant's disappointment when the only thing in English on TV was Bridget Jones, which he'd already been forced to suffer last night!), we eventually hit the road.


And what a glorious coastal road it was too. Flat, right next to the sea, wind in our faces (of course but hey we're used to it now!), and not too much bank holiday weekend traffic.
As we'd passed many shops and restaurants on the way to Lloco, we assumed we'd easily be able to pick up lunch on route. 20km out of town and we soon realised this wouldn't be the case! The holiday resort esplanades had quickly turned from shops and empanadas, to trees, cows and fields. Luckily it was beautiful enough, and we were strong enough, not to worry about the lack of lunch too much. We pushed on and when the road turned inland for 20km we decided to stop to scrape together what lunch we could muster from our food bag: Half a bag of mini oranges, two bananas and some crisps; a lunch of kings! Still so very grateful to the kind truck driver for his orange donation. Oh and some sugar syrup mixed with sweeteners that called itself pineapple juice!

The turn inland also brought with it a few more hills to grind up, but we didn't mind, we had Spotify to keep us company (and road crossing spider number two, but I'd prefer not to think about him right now if you don't mind!!).
The road got more busy and slightly less beautiful as we approached Constitution, but we had managed to find ice cream at a shack on route so we were happy!

As we came into town we were full of dread - warehouses, industrial estates, supermarkets bigger than a big Tesco - not quite the idyllic seaside town we'd been peddling for. But at least once we hit the centre we were likely to find a hotel...

... Or were we?! The plaza approached, as did the noise, bbq smoke and jovial music that can only mean one thing... A bank holiday weekend festival (we later found out it was a festival of food! Amazing!!). But it did give us a few nervous moments cycling around the plaza worrying the hotels might be fully booked. We found the 'neuveu hotel constitution', expensive but with a room, so we checked in and scrubbed up, ready to hit the town as only one can, when one is a knackered crazy gringo cycle tourist on a bank holiday Sunday at a food fete. A pork kebab, three sausage sandwiches (yes three please... No don't look at me like that señor - I'm a hungry lass!), and a rack of pork ribs later and I was finally full! OK so Ant did have one of the sausage sandwiches and half the kebab, but in this race we can safely say he was falling very far behind! I'm sure he enjoyed his toasted bread, portion of chips and natural mango juice as much as I did my dinner though (yeah right!!?!).

Whilst Ant was purchasing his mango jugo natural, I was busy, kebab in hand, asking the store next door exactly what they put in their big jugs full of strawberries and dark red liquid, "um... Red wine, strawberries, and I think the strawberries were soaked in Pisco brandy..."; "brilliant, I'll take one!".  And after all of this we stumbled (almost literally!) across a beer tent, with multiple stalls selling multiple ales!!! Two pints later and it was time to stumble back to bed, but not after Ant's final supper piece - a visit to the chocolate tent and 4 coconut truffles. And I HAD to get some popcorn for the road tomorrow - and might have been super happy when the smiley lady serving it put a scoop or two in the bag for free!

So we trotted back to our room slightly merry, but incredibly happy and ended the day with me explaining to Ant that I'd always thought I had a lisp and always thought I couldn't say 'S' very well - see I can't even say 'Southsea show'. Well the last part at least was true, I couldn't say 'Southsea show', but as far as I can remember I've never thought I had a lisp and have always been able to say my 'S's'... Except when I'm drunk of course! (it just so happens the next morning I could say Southsea show perfectly!).

Day 44 - Isle of Wight meets the wild west!

Llico to Lloca (30km) Saturday 8th October

You may think we chose to have an easy day today - you'd be wrong, very wrong! You may think we were only on the road for an hour or two - 30km right? - you'd be wrong, very wrong! Ok so by this point you might be asking how high we climbed. If I told you 500m you might think it was only a 1.5% gradient - eminently doable right? Again wrong I'm afraid!

I shall explain: After waking up to a beautiful view of the sea, we braved the hotel mafia and their strange breakfast etiquette (we also had to brave their 80s/90s chill out CD that resembled the 10pm "Mellow magic" of the 90's - 'nothing compares' to wet wet wet's 'wishing well' that provides 'endless love' (OK so I tried!). We cycled out the town passed the political drumming band rallies and again had a route decision: 1 - at least 20km longer, closer to lake, more chance of tarmac, definitely some hills; 2 - shorter, by the coast, possible sea views, steep climb up onto plateau, definitely not tarmacked. After checking out the road we opted for 2 - It seemed well compacted so we could make good progress which made taking the shorter route a no brainer.

We plugged on up the steep (12%) initial gradient, excited and happy to be here, especially as the surface seemed friendly. We knew we had about 20km of this before we descended onto the flat tarmacked coastal road, so thought we'd make the most of the adventure.

We also thought the road would get worse once we got further along, but had no idea just how much! It wasn't enough that it threw in several climbs and descents greater than 25%, but someone also had the bright idea to literally throw on sack after sack of loose beach pebbles, lovely huge curved ones, to mend the road -probably ok in a car, but impossible on a bike. So it soon became a case of:  cycle up until you think you're going to get thrown off as your legs can't power fast enough to manage the rubble; push the bike up the steeper stuff; grit your teeth, hold on tightly enough to make your hands numb, and cross your fingers on the fast and bumpy way down; then repeat.

Now I don't know if you've ever tried pushing a loaded touring bike up a hill, but it's hard work! I imagine it's not dissimilar to pushing an elephant uphill on skates! So you then rest at the top and prepare for the downhill payback that only yields a frightening squirming and squiggling on a bike not firmly planted beneath you.

During one of our mid way stops, a truck passed us and a friendly face leaned out the window - "would you like an orange?" - oooh "yes please" says I, then they handed us a whole bag of delicious and juicy mini clementines. Wow! That was super cute and such a lovely gesture. Then half an hour later when perched by a gate eating empanadas, we cheered on a runner and offered him an orange - he must surely be finding this as tough as us. He then turned around, ran back up the hill (as we've already established this is no mean feat!) and asked if we would like lunch at his house!? We said thanks but we should push on. He said "no I'm serious I can cook for you, its down there by the lake". Ahhh. The words down there, and lake, were enough to make us say a definite no and explain that if we went down, then unfortunately that would mean we have to then come back up! But two incredibly kind and generous offers in the space of an hour.
So we pushed on, having only covered about 10km in two hours and eventually found the descent to town. Initially a very doable track of hard mud - easy to navigate and quick progress. But then the gradient got steeper and the surface turned to sand. Ant and Jamling with slightly stronger nerves managed to stay riding mist of the descent, whilst Alan and I did some sort of half horse half monkey trot down most of it.

Covered in sand and in need of an ice cream we tumbled off the mountain and reached the shop next to the tarmack at the bottom of the descent.

Well that's 17km of our day done! Lets see how far we can push on!

Smooth tarmac under our paws and the soothing Pacific on our right we headed on through the coastal towns, concluding that this was rather like the seaside towns of Sandown and Shanklin, with a cowboy feel - Isle of Wight meets the wild west!

The sight of a campsite with free use of kayaks almost had Ant tempted (knackered Ant? Never too much to Kayak!! Muppet!), but when we saw the pitches were less grass, more brambles, and came complete with their own chickens and horses, we decided to push on to the next town in search of something a little greener with warmer showers.

We cycled up and down the sea from esplanade that is Lloca and were relieved that we had our pick of hotels, hostals and restaurants. But Ant, with his sixth sense wanted something more. A Cabaña. We'd seen these advertised for weeks now - they are a huge part of the holiday scene. But without a cell phone for Chile yet, it's kinda hard to call the numbers on the signs. Queue man on side of street with cardboard sign advertising cabañas. Well let's give it a go! Turned out to be a lovely little holiday wood cabin, with a living room, tv and kitchen, all much more reasonably priced than the hotels -brilliant! They even had a hose pipe to dust off the boys.

So after a huge bike and kit cleaning session we found some fried fish and chips (when in Rome!) enjoyed the Sunset, and snuggled into our new home.

And breathe out!

Tipsy...

Well Tom did tell us to practice drinking so we sort of did... Two pints later and I'm struggling to pronounce "s's"!

What a brilliant night... !! We stumbled across a "gasteonomical festival" aka food festival with a beer tent, music stage, chocolate tent and lots and lots of bbq stalls. I think I've died and gone to heaven! Whilst im struggling to say "Southsea show" and eating my own weight in meat (the sausage stew man was delighted when I asked for two more sausage with bread, and you should have seen the guy's face when I asked for a rack of ribs!!) Ant's still struggling to eat anything that isn't fruit, bread or potatoes. This has led to an interesting diet of lots of warm toasted bread (and some funny looks from the guys toasting it next to heaps of meat), 4 chocolate truffles, and all the brandy soaked strawberries from the bottom two thirds of my red wine/brandy/strawberry drink (that's a thing here apparently!).

So brandy, red wine,  and a few ales later and were back in our hotel feeling rather pleased we stumbled across this dilapidated old seaside town on their bank holiday weekend.
What a bloody awesome night! Hicc! Smile! Happy!

Xxx

Ps sorry I'm posting out of order, have two days of cycling to report, but wanted to capture our merriment!! He he he!

Day 43 - if you don't fall over you're not trying hard enough!

Pichilemu to Llico (65km) with over 800m ascent - Friday 7th October

What a tough but glorious day! We knew cycling along the coast wouldn't be easy - coast roads have a nasty habit of following cliffs up and down fairly steeply and this one was no exception. I never thought I'd find a hill that would be so tough it makes 8% seem like a walk in the park - but today managed it - repeatedly! And the howling sea wind, cold and starkly gusting into our faces most of the day did little to help us, except cool us down (in Ant's case a bit too much), but the beautiful Pacific ocean to our right for the first half of the ride made it all hugely worth while.

I was loving every minute of the first 40km. The fresh sea air, invigorating and uplifting; the stunningly beautiful scenery which didn't look too dissimilar to the southern coastline on the Isle of Wight, with the added bonus of some eucalyptus and pine forests; and a challenging but not at all traffic heavy road. A sea girl at heart, I was in my element. Ant was suffering a little more though and I've learnt that this usually only means one thing - as much as I'd like to think I've got strong enough to compete with Lizzie Armistead (or Lizzie Dignan now as Ant keeps telling me with a sad - oh she's off the market sort of face!), its actually most likely that Ant's got weaker, probably more cold coming on.

As the road turned away from the coast and headed towards the first of the slightly inland lakes, the wind really started to show its might. It must have been some sort of valley - lake geography that made it unsure of its strength or direction, but had us clinging onto our handlebars as we got thrown left, right, pushed forwards then stopped to a halt. Now would be a jolly good time to stop in a shelter and have lunch we thought, so we did. A few pastries and crisps later and we were debating our two road options: Turn right, stay closer to the sea, climb a bloody big hill, stay atop the bloody big hill for a bit, then drop into town; or turn left, do at least 10km more on what looked like a dirt road, but hopefully tackle less hills. Google recommended option 1 so we headed in that direction for 500m until we saw the road turn to sandy gravel and tilt up about 25%. It didn't take us too long to conclude that option 2 was probably better.

So we headed off along the lake on a relatively easy gravel path pleased with our decision, especially as there were several trucks (why?!!) coming in the opposite direction - can't be that bad a road if they can get here.  Ant's head was now lifted - this felt like an adventure, and I was still high as a kite - today was really fun.

As we said goodbye to the lake and hello to the hills, the road inevitably started to degrade. More rocks and sand, but still manageable - for the moment at least. As we go higher deeper into the forrest, it felt more and more rural. There were lots of unsigned paths (can't really justify calling them roads now!) that weren't even on the map so Ant had to concentrate hard to work out our route. We passed two old ladies out for a stroll who were super keen to tell us that yes this was the right way (and lots of other advice we didn't understand), though one of them had a "you don't want to be doing that love" kind of face, which didn't fill us with confidence.

They were right, we didn't want to be doing this! 25% hills, sandy, gravelly, rocky, bumpy. Lots we couldn't cycle up, some we could just about brave. At least we were moving, if only slowly. In a slightly flatter (read 10%!) section of one of the climbs I was relieved I could actually cycle and stop pushing... But not for long... Oooh sand...  Oooh sliding... Eeek... Stopped... Eeek sank... Aghhh pedals... Unclip unclip... Too late... Plop... Ouches!

At least the first fall of the trip was into sand - could have been a lot worse! Just a few bruises and a LOT of sand in mine and Alan's pants!
Oh and did I mention we'd now entered the territory of the big fat mosquito? Prick - ouch, slap you bugger, ouch, oi stop it, yuk, grrr, bugger off, ow, what even through my jersey?, hey that's my cycling glove you shouldn't be able to bite through that?!!

Ant, although annoyed at the mosquitos, somehow managed to keep his head high - I was angry, angry and frustrated. I couldn't cycle and was getting bitten left right and centre... Grrr.

Eventually we reached the turning that would lead us down into town. A bumpy gravel road, but downhill so at least we could cling on and bump our way down, getting thrown left and right and gritting our teeth! Mountain biking, although fun, is somewhat difficult on a loaded bike that has a mind of its own!

Soon enough we'd entered the strange little town of Llico. A sleepy place lined with lakes and forests. Composed of only one long road lined with a few small shops. On the outskirts we saw a camping sign and decided to check it out. Ant borrowed Alan and whisked off into the campsite while I checked out the wildlife signs... What a spider that can kill you... Man I hope my Spanish is wrong!!

Ant's summary was a beautiful campsite in the forrest with showers, but no hot water. Covered head to toe in sweat, sand, dust and gravel, all mixed into a sun creamy paste, we thought a hot shower might be preferable, plus we hadn't yet seen the town or sea at the end of the road... FOMO. So we pushed on for another 3km just to see if there was anything else before settling on a night of cold showers, spiders and death.

Thankfully we didn't do our usual thing of settling for the first place we saw, mainly because the first place was so run down and shabby that cold showers spiders and death seemed preferable! Eventually we came to the end of the road and the sea, which gifted a nice looking hostilleria. They had a room and several grumpy, mafia like, old men owning it. Oh well nice enough room, with glorious terrace overlooking the beach and the promise of hot water - we'll take it!

When we'd cleaned off our sandy sun creamy paste and gone for our pre dinner stroll (with the sole mission of finding dinner!) we realised that no more than 50m more down the road was a glorious looking hotel and spa... Tum tee tum, we could only console ourselves with the fact that we may have saved money - but when the restaurant was very reasonably priced and tasty and the staff super friendly we couldn't bring ourselves to check their room price list - we'll just keep pretending it was prohibitively high and that we made the right decision! "ah" said the manager. "you should have stayed here, we have a pool and jacuzi, you could have relaxed in"... You seriously need to stop talking now dude... Seriously... Shut up... Nope... Stop...!!! 

So a tough day that beat us up but left us feeling alive and glowing with adventure. I shall leave you with Ant's summary:
"Beautiful riding, weary Ant, volatile Emma. Strangely today, more than other days on this trip, really felt like an adventure. We changed our plans and route several times based on how we were going and how we were feeling, didn't really know where we'd end up, ended up somewhere awesome by the sea... And that all felt really cool."

Surf's up!

Thursday 6th October

After a lovely big breakfast (even pancakes!) we booked a surf lesson with Emilio, a self proclaimed "frustrated professional surfer", who also happened to have all the looks and mannerisms of my cousin Drew. In preparation we managed to find a glorious little vegetarian cafe to eat all manner of pulses and veggies and let our bodies sing from the goodness, then got ready and psyched up for the task ahead.

Now Pichilemu is by no means a beginner surf resort and I've by no means overcome my fear of the sea, so I spent a great deal of time pretending I wasn't about to go surfing, in order to be able to actually go surfing.
Emilio took us on a little 'Eco tour' of the peninsula, before heading down to the sea, which only served to fuel my fear... "wow look those big waves, good for surf today... Don't worry though, how big they look here, they actually bigger in real life and we high up"... Oh great! Because THAT'S what I was worried about... That those giant waves would be too small!

Ant meanwhile was putting his excited puppy act on and bounding about, all but saying "can we go surf now, can we go surf now?".
Soon enough we were wet suited up and perched on the boards on the beach learning to perfect our paddling technique and what safety signs we should use we get into trouble or if there are sharks in the water...  WHAT?!! SHARKS??!! "Are there sharks here" said a quaking Emma... "well yes of course.. It is the sea" said Emilio... "no jelly fish though, too cold"... Oh that's ok then!

If I wasn't scared enough I definitely was now. So running board first into the sea the three of us braved the waves and started to exercise our paddling muscles. Before too long Ant was standing up riding the odd wave or two and even I was managing to catch and ride on my knees with a LOT of help from Emilio.
Some tea and cookies on the beach proved the perfect break after an hour or two in the water, and allowed the tide to go out a little and the waves to really start revealing their might.

Another half hour in the water and it was time for my little arms to call it a day, but Ant stayed out for a good hour or so and was even allowed to brave the sea beyond the breaks to play with the big boys (and get battered by the big waves). Eventually he decided it was time to stop and joined me on the beach looking much worse than after a day climbing in Peru: "let's get you home and find you some beer"... He smiled a big smile, couldn't find words, smiled again and soon we were back beer in sand, sea in hair, tired, aching, but feeling alive.
We got a collectivo into town and ate pizza for supper, then it was time for Poldark!
What a brilliant day!!

Day 42 - I can see the sea!

Litueche to Pichilemu - 5th September (70km)

Today our struggle was not trying to find a home, but making sure we had the legs to get there. We'd booked a place in Pichilemu (the natural surf lodge) so that we could just enjoy the ride, and a beautiful ride it was too. Ok so we had a fairly strong head wind, but he's been our friend for over two weeks now so we'd be lost without him (and travelling 10km/h faster!!). This in itself is an interesting one as we were under the impression the wind should blow North-westerly, it is very definitely South-south-westerly, which could make for an interesting next few months! The road was much quieter with much fewer trucks so we could chat and enjoy the views - of which there were plenty.

It started off as rolling green fields and trees, not too dissimilar to the South downs. Then mid-way the fields for greener, the trees taller (pines and eucalyptus), and the horizon turned into snowy capped whipped cream peaks. This was enough for us to gasp a sigh of beauty as we reached the top of one of the many mini climbs we'd tackle today.

Just after the South downs had turned into the Austrian Alps and about 40km of our day complete, we talked about stopping to eat some of the pastries we had on our racks (we seem to be surviving on cakes and crisps at the moment and unable to find sandwiches... This leaves us craving spinach, broccoli and carrots!!). Then I saw a mini supermarket and should probably have suggested picking up something healthy - but the heat, humidity and sweat led me to only one place - the vast ice cream freezer! We were more than happy with our two cornettos and a token large carton of ice cold orange juice (don't take this as healthy - damn coca cola company own so many drinks in South America and unfortunately they have a love affair with both sugar and sweeteners, so even if we try to get a good hit of vitamin C we end up on a sugar high. Brilliant for cycling (well except the sweeteners - seriously what's the point of adding sweeteners when you've already added sugar? Are you trying to kill off your population?!), but not great for any other time).

So we enjoyed our ice cream stop under a very shady tree (and I recounted my slight amusement as the guy behind me in the store, very unusually for South America, not only waited in line patiently for me to order and buy my sugary purchases, but also waited politely and sheepishly whilst I put my change away. I knew something was amiss and was relieved to be proved correct when he ordered a small square packet with 'lucky strike' written on it as quietly and sheepishly as he could. Ant thinks he was just ashamed of a smoking habit, but I've never seen cigarettes quite that small and square!).

As we set off, a quick glance up the road and in a blasé fashion I said "oooh looks like we're climbing out of here for a while". Unperturbed and ready to enjoy the uphill (sometimes we do!) we started off up the 10-12% gradient. After a km had passed, we realised that this was perhaps a longer climb than we expected, but were still enjoying working the legs back into their past climbing form. Then another km, then another km, then another... Man oh man! 5km up the road and we were even getting support from the traffic, which had unfortunately picked up (4-5pm rush hour!), but were just about giving us enough space to slowly wobble and grind our bikes uphill and were waving and cheering as they went passed! (well except the busses, they still wanted to kill us - have I mentioned I hate busses!??!). So the cheering at least spurred us on, but when even the cars coming in the opposite direction are slowing and cheering, you know you've still got a lot ahead of you - after all they've see the road ahead and are giving you kudos for what you're about to achieve! Damn. Oh well only one way! Up and up and into a head wind.

Feeling strong but knackered we were now digging deep. Even Ant was feeling the burn, but somehow we managed the 15km pure uphill and were now on to the uppy downy bit, that at least gave our legs some respite between punishment.

At some point on the climb, the wind had hinted that we were getting closer to the Pacific Ocean as the wind's annoying warm battering, had turned into an even more fierce, but cool and fresh punishment that was at least revitalising and reminded us what being by the sea felt like, but we'd still not actually seen it yet. After weeks in desserts, with little water, man we were longing for the sea! Our minds even played tricks on us up on the salt lakes in Bolivia, where the white salt had formed wave like peaks and mirages that looked like a rough sea, but yielded only dry mud and dessert sand. 

So when we were finally on something that resembled a descent and about 10km from our hotel, we had to stop and take a breath or too as we finally saw the beautiful wonderful ocean!  We both cheered "I can see the sea!" And smiled the smiles that only two knackered cyclists with burning legs can smile! All the high corners and viewpoints had been big trees and hills - beautiful but not what we wanted... But now, if you looked hard enough, you could see the deep blue pacific ocean behind the lines of trees to our right.

This was incentive enough to push on down to the town and battle the last remaining uphill kickers that it threw in. We'd picked a lodge 3.5km out of the other side of town as it looked beautiful and seemed the best value for money, but when you're two knackered cyclists trying to find an out of town lodge and the main street it should be on suddenly changes its name, and the wind gets stronger and you get more confused and numbers don't seem to count up the way they should anymore... You stop and buy a big bottle of beer. Well we'll definitely need some refreshment when we finally get there!


Despite the street changing its name half way we decided to keep on cycling and eventually saw the heavenly yellow sign that Indicated our place was somewhere up the dirt track to our left. UP? UP? Grrrr!

It probably wasn't the easiest lodge entry to navigate at the best of times, and our minds were definitely not the easiest to navigate at this time. So we wondered around the property, ringing bells like lost ducks, occasionally quacking the odd feeble "hola" to no avail. Eventually I came up with the mind blowing idea to walk around the back of the property towards the house that looked lived in... Perhaps there would be someone there?... Genious!! Of course there was and they were very friendly and had a cute cute baby and let us into our wonderful room, then told us we had the whole lodge to ourselves as none of the other rooms were taken. That meant two comfy leather sofas and a beautiful sea view and even a take away menu...!!!

We ordered fusion thai-indian-Peruvian food (no idea!!?!?) to go with our beer that actually tasted glorious when it finally arrived! (ok so perhaps Ant hopped back on fat Al to go get two more beers from the store at some point!).
We booked the place for an extra night so we can go surfing tomorrow, so nothing left to do but watch Poldark and snuggle up! Ahhhhhh

Day 41 - When did it get so hard?

Melipilla to Lituche (80km) - Tuesday 4th October


As we left town we realised that today would be straightforward but fairly filled with traffic. The road; gently undulating, but surrounded by beautiful green fields and mountains, almost imitating the French Alps; was buzzing with trucks, busses and fast moving cars who didn't seem to want to obey the "keep 1.5m away from cyclists" sign. Either that or they were never very good at orders of magnitude estimates at school!

So the morning would have been delightful if our heads weren't brought down by the gushing roar as each engine powered object shook by.

There were however, several places to stop and grab lunch (probably due to the heavy traffic!) so we were grateful in some ways! We took advantage of a truck stop and sampled our first out of city Chilean food. This wasn't dissimilar to Peru's offerings, which is no bad thing at all, especially as they understand hand soap, toilet paper and bathrooms here. Although the ordering process is much more pot luck as Chileans are incredibly difficult to understand and their voice boxes, set to "Incomprehensibly fast", seem to be only capable of single speed offerings. So we had two mountainous lumps of tasty boiled pork, with half a plate of tasty rice and a fresh salad.

Soon after San Pedro we turned off the main road and headed towards the surfer town of Pichilemu, our target for tomorrow. We knew there was a small town on route Litueche, but had no idea if it would possess any sort of home for two weary cyclists. We also knew there were cabiñas somewhere around a lake to our left, but we had no idea at what point of the (probably 50km) loop they would be located. It seemed likely near the top, but who knows! So for now we just pedalled and enjoyed the not quite traffic free road and it's beautiful greenery.

Being undulating our legs had been tested somewhat today and both pairs had forgotten to revise the 'getting up hills' section they learnt in Peru. So we were delighted when the road dropped into a dam and realised we had a 200m 10% climb out the other side. It burned, but we survived. Our quads may be a little worse for wear though.

Also being green you would think we had plenty of choices for a luscious spot camp should the need arise - you would be wrong. Although teased with plenty of glorious looking terrain on both sides of the road, there was a barbed wire fence throughout its entirety, stopping us from getting there and meaning if we needed to make use of it we'd have 3 options: 1- fence hop, not likely to leave us or the boys unscathed and not really the done thing; 2- hope for a break in the fence, not highly likely; 3- start hunting for houses in this vast arena and ask sweetly if we could camp (we hadn't seen any houses for miles).

So we were putting all our hopes into finding a place to stays d for this reason our next turning led to a very important decision and a big dilemma. Do we turn left downhill towards the lake in the hope we will stumble across the cabiñas but could perhaps end up sever tens of km out of our way and lakes usually mean a lot of private land. Or do we stay on this road and hit the town in 16km heading for a hotel that might never come on a road that doesn't look tent friendly. Not an easy choice, but we decided at least the town would have food and the possibility of people taking pity on us and helping us find a camp spot, so we pushed on for the last 16km up and down increasingly steep hills. Of course during those steep leg wrecking 16km we found plenty of accessible camping options which added to our dilemma - stay here and set up camp, or keep pushing onto the town and either lose the camp opportunity or have to cycle another 10km back up this steep stuff on already broken legs.
Well as Ant said "fortune favours the brave Stewie, lets push on".

And this time he was right. After the excitement of seeing the first hospidaje sign and the disappointment of being told it was full, we found another two possibilities in the main street. I tentatively ventured into the best looking of the two and was delighted to be shown a clean room with a double bed and even cleaner shared bathroom. It was heaven! Though my Spanish is nowhere near sufficient to understand Chilean, so the very lively and happy owner had a permanent look of disappointment every time she excitedly asked me a question, then rephrased it in several ways then gave up. She was so interested in us but alas - we let her down.

Another huge lump of meat in stew and rice from the restaurant next door  and two pints of beer later and we were tucked up ready for a good night sleep to try and get rid of the colds we seem to be developing... Aaaaahhhhhchooooo.
Night night.

Day 40 - Stretching the legs

Santiago to Melipilla (70km), Monday 3rd October


After an hour or two getting out the city we came to the conclusion that Santiago can't quite decide if it wants to welcome cyclists or kill them. Either their town planners have good intentions but have clearly never ridden a bike, or are perhaps luring cyclists into the city to kill them off one by one! The good: They have built a cycle path to avoid the hideously busy Chilean version of the A4 in the centre of town; The bad: With a series of sharp left and right hand turns, 90 degree corners and mystery ramps down steps, all whilst dodging people and other cyclists it's more like a mountain bike circuit (she says as she hops off fat Al after narrowly avoiding yet another wall!!). The good: They have cycle lanes on the road out the city; the bad: The cycle lanes magically appear and disappear into a puff of smoke, leaving you stranded on the wrong side of a busy duel carriage way. The good: Where there is no cycle lane there is often a bus lane; the bad: Busses definitely want to kill you as they rev their engines heading directly towards you, pulling out with only an inch to spare.

Eventually we were away from the suburbs and chugging through the obligatory small towns on our route to the countryside. The road was framed by perhaps the tallest trees we've seen so far - definitely the greenest and after about 20km we came across a cycle lane that was actually trying actively not to kill us (raised bumps to our left to obstruct frustrated vehicle wheels from encroaching).

The rest of the journey was a pleasant cycle out towards greener more Alp-like mountainous views, all the while hoping the dot on the map we were heading for would have a hotel.

As we got closer we realised the town was a bigger version of the one we had in our minds, but as we hit the plaza de armas it still seemed to have no hotels, just many many department stores. My Spanish listening has obviously improved, even if my speaking still leaves much to be desired, as I managed to accost a couple of girls without frightening them and get them to explain where the one hotel in this gargantuan shopping precinct was.

Hotel los troncos, despite its clunky name and standard smell of smoke, was actually rather pleasant. Friendly staff, a large clean room and even a bath! Our supper at the well branded "bar and restaurant" around the corner, that looked like a sleek revamped local you might find in East Finchley, turned out to be neither a pub nor a restaurant and much more a cross between a school canteen and a weather spoons. Lots of dubious looking meat, cheese and frozen chips later we were back in our room ready for Poldark episode 2.

Now here I sit, Tuesday morning, contemplating the day we have ahead. 80km into nowhere passing a few small towns on route to the coast that most probably won't have hotels. To be honest I'd rather remain sitting here contemplating it than actually living it, but Ant's already told me off for not getting ready and i think he might burst if I'm still writing this when he comes out the shower, so adios - see you on the other side!
, , ,

Oops - Well apparently we had a rest week!! (Tuesday 27th September - Sunday 2nd October)

Tuesday - biscuits on a bus

Not quite snakes on a plane, but a drama nonetheless! As we liked Rioja so very much, we got up early and hot footed it away as fast as our little legs could carry us - well 1km to the bus station at least. We found a bus leaving in an hour or two (El Rapido) who said "bikes, no problem, just pay the guy putting your luggage on". So we paid the guy putting the luggage on...then when he saw us pay the luggage guy, we had to pay the ticket inspector too before they'd let us on... Twice... Grrr! Well I suppose they have to earn their beer money some how! Beer money relinquished and bikes almost safely stored we excitedly made our way to our seats on the upper deck. I have to say, this was by far the most unpleasant bus we've taken so far. Biscuits and food everywhere and grumpy attendants. Oh well, it's not like this would be an 8 hour journey or anything... Oh wait!  Biscuits on a bus, was only made more entertaining by the choice of movie they played... 'Precious'... A movie that managed to squeeze in every single taboo subject possible... Child abuse, rape, drugs, sex, violence... You name it, it had it! Not quite your family friendly bus viewing choice at 11am - but hey - at least it was in English!


Wednesday - one metaphor too far

Today we found our beautiful green oasis, our breath of fresh air, our haven of peace... Ok I'll stop now, but man we love Mendoza! Though I'm not sure if we're more in love with the city itself or with 'Casa Lila', our amazingly beautiful, incredibly luxurious, super friendly B & B; or the city itself. After a long lie in we were presented with a glorious breakfast prepared by Maria from Peru, we even had a choice of eggs! We then spent the rest of the morning drinking tea on the sofa looking out into the beautiful green garden; the afternoon eating burgers, cleaning bikes and doing laundry; and the evening drinking wine! Finally - the day we'd been dreaming of for weeks was here and man were we going to enjoy it!

Thursday - spending all of our money on food and wine

That's not technically true, we also spent a good portion of it on spa treatments too! Helped by our wonderful hosts at Casa Lila, we booked a day that we could only justify by saying it was the anniversary treat that we never had! By the time we arrived back at our room we were more than slightly drunk, incredibly relaxed, and so full up we were worried we might not be able to face breakfast tomorrow! A simply stunning day!

Friday - super sad to say goodbye

We dragged ourselves reluctantly out of Casa Lila and somehow avoided the temptation to move in there permanently. A half hour bike ride was all we had in store today, to catch the bus to Santiago. By now we were ready to be cycling again and were tempted to do the 400km journey under our own steam, but there were two hurdles that we didn't want to climb: 1- there are a series of tunnels at the top of the mountain pass that bikes are prohibited from using (with good reason); 2- the mountain pass! It would mean crossing over the Andes again. So we were taking the bus. Let's be honest, we were always taking the bus! So a slightly more palatable bus journey and a border crossing later and we were navigating the mountain bike course that is the cycle path through central Santiago. After some fraught moments standing outside our pre-booked apartments with no one in sight but the Friday night party goers and homeless, we eventually found quite possibly the nicest nan in the world 'Victor' who led us to quite possibly the nicest city apartment in the world (for what we paid at least!).

The weekend - feels like home

So we chose an apartment, as we've longed for vaguely healthy home cooked food. We spent Saturday being very lazy, cooking bacon and avocado for breakfast and baked potatoes for supper - amazing! We even managed to incorporate a quick stroll around the park (Cerro Santa Lucia)! Sunday was slightly more active with a walking tour of the city, but we ended it snuggling on the sofa watching Poldark series 2 (thanks itunes!!!). Tomorrow we renew our saddle sores and head to the coast, but today we relax. Perhaps its a bit too much like home though, not sure I want to move again!