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!
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