Change of Plans in Chile

Change of Plans in Chile

At last the time had come, after many delays and deliberation, I was heading to what I was hoping to be my ultimate destination of this little jaunt, Chile. The whole premise of this trip, apart from having a great time experiencing the world, was to land both some quality work and personal experience with my Australian company GHD in their office in Santiago. I was still hopeful of a positive outcome and was looking forward to the opportunity to working and living in the city and all that it entailed; finally my spanish would improve, I'd learn how to dance the tango, I'd be able to write off my self-indulgent holiday as professional overseas experience, you know, that sort of thing. Yep, I was in Chile for the slightly-longer-than-short-haul.

Upon my arrival into San Pedro de Atacama, my first port-of-call upon departing Bolivia, one thing became abundantly clear, I certainly wasn't to be staying in Chile without finding some way of earning some cash. I have never experienced such a shock by simply passing a few kilometres over a land border. After enjoying my complementary ransacking by drug authorities, I was surprised, not to say extremely disappointed to discover that prices had suddenly increased fourfold or thereabouts for most typical items.

One of the main tourist attractions in San Pedro, the three sisters. Fascinating...

Bottled water suddenly cost more than fine Bolivian wine, I was paying far more for a dorm than a private hotel room and spending time writing this overly time-consuming blog became a serious financial outlay. No more restaurants unfortunately as well and I was forced to commence my staple diet of banana hotdogs for breakfast, lunch and dinner. Not surprisingly, there were very few Bolivians about (as evident by my newfound total lack of ability to understand a single word of the high-speed garble of Chilean spanish); I dare say the cost of living is more effective than the Berlin wall at keeping Bolivians out of this most prosperous nation in South America.

Some of the landscapes typical of the Valle de la Luna just outside San Pedro de Atacama.

Not only were the costs of everything astronomically higher, but I found San Pedro, the bee's knees so far as tourist hotspots of northern Chile are concerned to be pretty lifeless and bereft of unmissable sites. Admittedly the Atacama Desert, which I bypassed due to its similarity to my much cheaper Salt Flats tour, may be somewhat impressive but if like me, you're not keen for several more days of bum-numbing 4-wheel-driving, there isn't a whole lot to do. So with the decision to hightail it out of there made remarkably easily, I had only one afternoon during which I needed to occupy myself. The Valle de la Luna (another one) was only 20 odd km away (a short distance in theory) and so with yet another Dutchie I met in the hostel, Saco, it was on yer bike off to catch the "unforgettable" sunset.

My Dutch (as usual) mate Saco, exploring the tunnels in and around the Valle de la Luna.

Hmmm, so 20km is not quite as short as I had convinced myself, particularly considering my bizarro athlete state of being, and the high altitude we were still at. I was relieved to firstly get there without suffering coronary failure, and secondly to discover that it was actually worth the pain I was no doubt to feel the next day. An impressive tunnel tour through the incredible sculpted rock features was first up and then it was a further ride into the park to appreciate the stark landscape which stretched off until the Andes.

Our vantage point from where the sunset would have been great...

We completed our tour with a far more difficult than it looked hike up an impressive sand dune to a great vantage point where we missed the sunset by that much. Still the dusk light did nothing to diminish the eerie landscape that stretched on around us as far as the eye could see. And then it was an entirely unpleasant uphill ride back to San Pedro...

The dune which further convinced me I never wish to have to hike out of a desert.

With memories of my bus adventures in Bolivia fresh in my mind, the prospect of a 24 hour bus trip to Santiago was not one I looked forward to with eager anticipation but I was pleasantly surprised to find the quality matched the prices here in Chile. Climate control, personal headsets, films in english, food and even a complimentary lost luggage service. By that I mean they actually lose all your luggage at no extra cost (I seriously recommend you tip the guys who pack your gear under the bus). Thankfully I only had two days in Santiago having to wear the same clothes until my pack finally arrived, minus a commission fee of one small black bag containing all my electronic gear, mobile, chargers, connections etc. Sneaky bastards.

Hardly budget backpacker style, more like business class in a plane. Better yet was to come in Argentina.

Santiago is as first world as they come, very modern with, to my disappointment very modern prices, reflective of its thriving economy. Mind you, despite its economic success, I think they must have had a major devaluation of their currency in recent times as they still hand out 1 peso coins. Considering there are more than 500 pesos to one dollar, you'd pretty much need a life-size piggy bank to save up for that bicycle you've always wanted. It also feels quite different to any other major South American city I've yet visited in that it appears at least to be absent of regions of absolute poverty, and feels quite European almost. That and the fact that its main street is named after its liberator, the decidedly un-South American sounding Bernard O'Higgins.

Pretty much my only photo in Santiago, I was hoping to stay longer and choose when to take my shots... Above is the military barracks.

Kind of reminded me of my hometown of Brisbane; similar size, similar cost of living etc, and like Brisbane, Santiago really has bugger all to offer tourists as far as I could tell. So with little further ado, I headed straight for GHD to discover my fate. Unlike Brisbane, Santiago has an extremely efficient public transport system and holy crap, the suburb where the GHD office is, Los Condors, might as well by uptown Manhattan with all its schmick apartment blocks, wide tree-lined avenues and expensive cars.

My gracious hosts Christina, Maule and Ian on their last day in Talca.

Anyways, following a chat with the very accommodating director of the office, Roberto, it was decided I should return in a week to allow him to see what might be available. In the meantime it was off to Talca, a smallish city about 3 hrs south of Santiago to kill a few days with my "inside man" of GHD Santiago, Ian Spruce (the guy who had been telling me all along I really had bugger all chance of work...) and his girlfriend Christina and overly-large but beautiful dog Maule. After spending only three days in Talca, and enjoying their incredibly generous hospitality over that time, I have newfound respect for how Ian managed to put up with living there for over a year....

One of the days I was in Santiago they had a free cultural day (finally something cheap in Chile!!) where there was all sorts of musuems and performances available to the public, including these dancing cowboys, who as far as I could tell were limited to performing the ol' Heel and Toe whilst waving about a hankie above their heads.

So, back to Santiago for a few days where I enjoyed the company of Nicki, a lovely Australian girl from the office who only a month or two prior, through a much more concerted display of pragmatism, diligence and, dare I say it, planning, had scored the exact position I had been hoping for myself. The writing was definitely on the wall, but still I persevered and it was off to see Roberto to find out my destiny, to achieve my ultimate goal, to fulfil the driving ambition, the culmination of my travels, to realise the very reason for my embarking on this journey around the world....

Umm, no? Nothing? Hey, that's cool, just figured I'd pop round since I was in the area and all...

Hmmmm. So with pride shattered and feelings of complete failure and inadequacy, I had to summon all my willpower to look beyond the hazy fog of depression that had descended upon my mind and try to see the positives of not having to sit in an office for 10 hours a day for the next several months. But what to do? Well, the world cup was approaching, I had several friends to visit, and I do really, really like steak.

Entonces, VAMOS ARGENTINA!!