Letter 1
02.07.02 Santiago
It's 2.30 in the night. I am awake lying in a bed in Santiago. A minute ago
the rain drummed on the roof - bad sign, but as long as it is only at night...
The alarm in my watch has just been going. But I was awake already. I actually
just adjusted it to wakr me up in the morning - so why now? It must be because
the analogue and the digital parts are not adjusted. I have had to adjust to
the actual time and the analogue part is easily done... but now they are not
synchronized. I have to find the manual because I can't get it showing the
digital time at all.
But where am I? And how did I get here? I go back a little. The flight for
Santiago left on scheduled time. I talk a lot to one of my neighbours in the
airport of Sao Paolo. He had 10 hours before his plane for Lima was going to
leave. Had earlier been to Salta in Argentine. I town that's also on my list.
I had a seat at the window but above the wing, so I could only look slightly
backwards. But clouds soon covered all so there was nothing to see. Above the
Andes a hole in the clouds suddenly appeared and a river was to be seen and
big areas of something like mud. The remains of the flood recently when one
years rain fell in three days in the Santiago area? Then clouds again.
We landed exactly 13.10 local time as scheduled. The last hour I was feeling
rather bad just saved by a film with Michelle Pheiffer, but now I all at once
was fully awake. A feeling of joy, relief and expectation streamed through me...
this is the beginning of the fairytale! No problems with my passport or papers,
but my luggage?
Spent a lot of time at the belt waiting... nothing. I wasn't surprised at all.
But when I saw the danish couple, that also had been on the plane coming back
to where I was standing I realized there were more belts ahead. At the last
one my box with the panniers etc. was already put down asside the belt. The
raincover was partly taken off, but the box was ok and the raincover only had
minor damages. By putting my head through a hatch I saw my bicycle leaning
against the wall in another room. After some time I succeded finding a man
with a key so a door could be opened and my bike unpacked and in 5 minutes I
was ready to take off.
First step: MONEY. There ought to be a ATC in the airport. I found it - and it
worked. No, actually I started in the tourist information. A girl who was
really capable answered ALL my questions. She suggested I took a bus to the
city. They could carry the bike too, she said. There were no place for the
night in the surroundings. But I had to do some cycling to look around.
At the landing the temperature was 8 degr., not much, but I didn't feel cold.
No wind at all! First impression: palms and some drought adapted minor plants.
But then suddenly a small wood of birches. And some pines. A big flat plain
where Santiago cannot be seen in the mist, but a 2 lane highway leads
somewhere. My first impression of confusing traffic signs proves to be right,
lots of heavy traffic, no room for bicycles. Reminds me of a freightful
experience on a highway in Poland. This is not where I am going to end my days.
Back to the airport. Get a bus. The blue one couldn't carry a bike but the
green one can. This is the perfect way of arriving: a noisy lowgeared bus like
in Denmark in the 60'ies. So what does it look like? Caotic. At least the
looks. Noisy cars mostly busses. Bleak tenement houses with laundry. Nice
little houses in german style. A total mix of styles. Very much like in
southern Europe with an addition of american skyscrabers and smaller sexless
houses of glass, steel and concrete.
Santiago is NOT for bicycles. And it's big - real big. Here I made a bad
decision: tried to find a specific hotel I saw in a brochure in the airport.
It didn't look far in the map... it was. I dragged my bike in the pavement.
At last I reached the area and found out that I had lost the brochure in the
meantime. But he had drawn a cross in my map. Walked about for half an hour.
No hotel. Started asking people. Nobody knew and I didn't understand much of
what they said.
In the end I found a hotel but the one I was showed looked expensive - very
expensive. Didn't know what to do. All right, it couldn't be THAT expensive,
could it? Placed the bike and was on my way in. No, it looked too expensive.
Walked about some more asking: "Un hotel pequeno?" There seemed no others.
Back again to ask the price. 145$. ONE HUNDRED FORTY FIVE american dollars.
Nearly all my extra dollars. No way.
Started to go back from where I came. It would soon get dark. Asked frequently:
"Hay un hotel pequeno acerca de aqui?" in a rising voice so they'd understand
it was a question and not a fact. They understood what I was saying. The
opposite was seldom the case. After what seemed forever a new hotel. It also
looked expensive, but less. 60$. But I could have it for "special prize" 45$.
No way.
I had gone dark but I succeded in the end. I locked my bike, left it and
prayed to God for it would be there still WITH bags when I came back... it
took almost half an hour. We didn't understand each other. Neither could a
called for sister. When she at last took out a prizelist I was a little wiser:
the room could be hired both in the daytime and the nighttime. This was
amounts I could deal with but to make her understand that I wanted it for one
night, one day and one night seemed not possible. When I took out some notes
she realized that I was serious and called a friend, who spoke a little
english. I explained the situation for her and all was fine. 20.000 CH$
(pesos) for one and a half day. That is at least 200 d.kr. How much I will
know when I see what has been withdrawn for my 100.000 I cashed from the ATM
earlier.
After having been in 4 different rooms, we succeeded at last finding one where
the door could be locked. It's unbelievable ugly and I quickly decided to
sleep in my sleeping bag. Not that I think it is verminous, but it's generally
not that clean. I took the bike and all into the room, locked the door and
went to find a restaurant. Those women knew exactly which kind I was looking
for.
It was same style as the hotel.The back wall was dominated by a 48 inches
screen, that showed a TV programme with a lot of half naked youngsters -
mainly female - wriggling to terrible music. The focus was on breasts and
asses. Is this chilean television? Undoubtful. So I sat there together with a
lot of other single men and "enjoyed" my chicken and my pommes frites. But the
"cerveza" of the brand Kristal was actually quite nice.
Back in my hotel I was just going to write in the diary, but first I was going
to see if the tiny TV was working... and I went out like a candle and didn't
wake up until around 2. Now it is 4 o'clock and I need to find out how to set
the watch. Goodnight.