Sitting in the internet café off the central plaza of San Carlos you reflect on the first day of the viaje.
Christmas in Penco. Probably the place most like your native Hermosa Beach. Small town on the coast of a large city. The avocado eaten before Christmas mass is doing a number on the intestines. Going back to Jorge's place begins a night of discussing politics until 4:30 when you finally have to excuse yourself and crash on the couch.
So much for leaving at the crack of dawn. The pack has to wait for assembly until 11 after a few more winks of sleep. Alas it never ceases to amaze how much cluttler and crap has been accumulated over the year and how easy it is to pack-rat it all.
Mid-way through the process you take a stroll through the neighborhood you've come to know quite well over the last 10 months. Chacabuco is deserted but Parque Equador is in full swing with children running around the fountain and riding new bicycles on the path. You stop by the bakery where a good friend Fernanda works and she gives you two absolutely exquisite empanadas for the day's journey. A few days earlier she also gifted you a set of combat rations straight from the Chilean special forces unit for the southern journey ahead. Awesome.
The first go of the pack is deemed much too heavy, around 35 kilos, alas the shaver and water bottle must go. A gift for Chimbe and a beard for you.
One last pass of the apartment, home for the past 10 months, and a shot of pisco to calm the nerves. Nervious? Possibly. Anxious as hell to get started? Been that way for months now.
Damn this pack is heavy walking through the streets of Conce but you've got to pass by your favorite bar to snap a pic. Averno, you shall be missed.
Time to get on the micro to drop you off at the spot you've fished there before but there are already doubts before you start.
Walk a way up the highway, it's still not too late to back out and return to Penco for the night with Jorge, out with the thumb.
10 minutes and you try a sign, "quizás soy Jesús" perfect for the season.
30 minutes in and you've got a bite! You run over collecting your 3 bags of mostly junk, fumbling and dropping them, but ecstatic to have a ride.
"Ruta 5? San Carlos?"
"Te llevamos a Chillan, dale?"
Awesome!
The car starts out towards la Ruta de Itata. "Wanna beer?"
You can tell this ride is going to be good.
Politics,highways constructed by Mexican imperialist businesses, music, time signatures, the Gringo Nations' lack of rhythm...
"haha! Yea I've tried to dance cueca a few times" you mention, then admit "beer helps".
"I play cueca and other music at a bar every Tuesday..."
"Wait, you mean martes Chileno? At the Averno? Weon! You're the guitarist aren't you!"
"Sure am!"
If running into a musician from your favorite bar isn't a sign then you'll be damned.
"So you're from California right? You know there's a lot of links between that state and Chile. In fact one of the cuecas I sing is about the roto chileno working in California during the gold boom."
"What exactly is the roto chileno?"
"Basically a Chilean who works from day to day on odd jobs. He's good at drinking, a womanizer, and sleeps anywhere he can lay his head."
You arrive on the outskirts of Chillan, exchange numbers for a possible New Years' encounter in Valpo. Good man that Choro Boro and his girlfriend!
You walk under the overpass and relieve the beer, fish a bit longer but it's a bad spot. Maybe it's best to stay in Chillan for the night so you walk over to the toll booth entering the town.
Standing less than 5 minutes later a middle aged lady in very nice car takes you to the street ("Schlayer" says the woman, "German, heil Hitler"... hmmm maybe that was a bit innapropriate Señora) of your friend L, you practice English along the way.
A few calls yeild nothing, a short walk and you ring the bell.
"Hello, who is it?...Sarkis? Really?"
L and T are going to Conce, but at least you manage to have some sort of farewell as you had missed a goodbye with them a few days prior.
So you're left to have delighful conversations over Christmas cake with the mother and you're certain this is what you've been looking for.
Christmas in Penco. Probably the place most like your native Hermosa Beach. Small town on the coast of a large city. The avocado eaten before Christmas mass is doing a number on the intestines. Going back to Jorge's place begins a night of discussing politics until 4:30 when you finally have to excuse yourself and crash on the couch.
So much for leaving at the crack of dawn. The pack has to wait for assembly until 11 after a few more winks of sleep. Alas it never ceases to amaze how much cluttler and crap has been accumulated over the year and how easy it is to pack-rat it all.
Mid-way through the process you take a stroll through the neighborhood you've come to know quite well over the last 10 months. Chacabuco is deserted but Parque Equador is in full swing with children running around the fountain and riding new bicycles on the path. You stop by the bakery where a good friend Fernanda works and she gives you two absolutely exquisite empanadas for the day's journey. A few days earlier she also gifted you a set of combat rations straight from the Chilean special forces unit for the southern journey ahead. Awesome.
The first go of the pack is deemed much too heavy, around 35 kilos, alas the shaver and water bottle must go. A gift for Chimbe and a beard for you.
One last pass of the apartment, home for the past 10 months, and a shot of pisco to calm the nerves. Nervious? Possibly. Anxious as hell to get started? Been that way for months now.
Damn this pack is heavy walking through the streets of Conce but you've got to pass by your favorite bar to snap a pic. Averno, you shall be missed.
Time to get on the micro to drop you off at the spot you've fished there before but there are already doubts before you start.
Walk a way up the highway, it's still not too late to back out and return to Penco for the night with Jorge, out with the thumb.
10 minutes and you try a sign, "quizás soy Jesús" perfect for the season.
30 minutes in and you've got a bite! You run over collecting your 3 bags of mostly junk, fumbling and dropping them, but ecstatic to have a ride.
"Ruta 5? San Carlos?"
"Te llevamos a Chillan, dale?"
Awesome!
The car starts out towards la Ruta de Itata. "Wanna beer?"
You can tell this ride is going to be good.
Politics,highways constructed by Mexican imperialist businesses, music, time signatures, the Gringo Nations' lack of rhythm...
"haha! Yea I've tried to dance cueca a few times" you mention, then admit "beer helps".
"I play cueca and other music at a bar every Tuesday..."
"Wait, you mean martes Chileno? At the Averno? Weon! You're the guitarist aren't you!"
"Sure am!"
If running into a musician from your favorite bar isn't a sign then you'll be damned.
"So you're from California right? You know there's a lot of links between that state and Chile. In fact one of the cuecas I sing is about the roto chileno working in California during the gold boom."
"What exactly is the roto chileno?"
"Basically a Chilean who works from day to day on odd jobs. He's good at drinking, a womanizer, and sleeps anywhere he can lay his head."
You arrive on the outskirts of Chillan, exchange numbers for a possible New Years' encounter in Valpo. Good man that Choro Boro and his girlfriend!
You walk under the overpass and relieve the beer, fish a bit longer but it's a bad spot. Maybe it's best to stay in Chillan for the night so you walk over to the toll booth entering the town.
Standing less than 5 minutes later a middle aged lady in very nice car takes you to the street ("Schlayer" says the woman, "German, heil Hitler"... hmmm maybe that was a bit innapropriate Señora) of your friend L, you practice English along the way.
A few calls yeild nothing, a short walk and you ring the bell.
"Hello, who is it?...Sarkis? Really?"
L and T are going to Conce, but at least you manage to have some sort of farewell as you had missed a goodbye with them a few days prior.
So you're left to have delighful conversations over Christmas cake with the mother and you're certain this is what you've been looking for.
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