Chile

(Trucks waiting to cross the border from Bolivia into Chile)

So we had just escaped from Bolivia and were now on our way to Chile. Raul had been to this border crossing before. Ten or so years ago, he and his mum had queued like everyone else, waiting for their exit stamps and to pay the exit tax. When it was their turn, they gave a warm hello, which caused the immigration officer to stir from the monotony of his duties. He looked up with a face as much with delight as surprise, and declared: "You two don’t have to pay anything". Just shows what a smile is worth.

(Mount Sajama, at 6530m Bolivia's highest Mountain)

"BUENAS DIAS AMIGO", we announced as jovially as our hearts could muster, our faces grinning from ear to ear. We were dutyfully queing up to pay our exit taxes. This time the guy didn’t even look up. "That’s 15 bolivianos". Not even a please. Ah well. Worth a try.

(Llamas on the Altiplano)

I dozed away whilst driving past flamingo filled lakes, over-shadowed by 6 and half thousand meter mountains and llama filled plains. I awoke to a nudge from Raul, "Jerry look". My eyes were only open for a couple of seconds when I was looking for my bottle of water. We were driving through the Atacama desert, the driest part of Planet Earth, and just looking at it made me thirsty.

(Atacama Desert)

Because of all the time we’d lost in Bolivia, we were skipping half the country and meeting Mireya in Santiago. Passing through this desert, which makes the Sahara look like a swamp, was my only touristic consolation of the north.

Our 40 hour bus journey was concluded with a visit to Bohemian neighbourhood "Barrio Brasil", where we marveled at how beer could be poured vertically from a bottle into a glass, never spilling out the side.

The next day, Mireya emerged, late, and we explored the sights of Santiago. The common consensus was that we were in a European city. Other than the nearby Andes, which were slightly hazed over, there was no indication that we were in fact in South America. Not even from the faces or clothing of the people. Climbing the inner-city Cerro Santa Lucia, we were allowed a full view of this 5 million metropolis. We met an architect who pointed out the "Estadio Olympico". Or was that me and Raul re-enacting a scene from "Something about Mary"?

(Estadio Olympico)

From Constitution square we entered the Palacio de la Moneda, the president’s palace, which was guarded by a giant. No wonder Chile’s so safe. In the square they were hosting an event to commemorate "International Woman’s Day", so we had to nice to Mireya for the rest of the day.

(Presidential palace, you can just make out the Giant guard's head above Mireya's)

My fondest memory of Santiago was the "Completo’s". Basically a hot-dog, but stuffed with avocado. Yummy. Try it.

Even though I am spending 365 days in Latin America, there are times when even the measliest unit of a single day cannot be spared. Forfeiting a Lenny Kravitz concert in Santiago was one such situation, much to Mireya's dismay. The simple fact is, you cannot be flexible when you have people flying in to meet you. In 13 days I had to in Buenos Aires to meet Gina.

Bypassing the world renowned wine regions, we aren't even afforded a drop. Nope, if I want to try Chilean wine it will have to be back in Ramsgate I'm afraid. Though I do blame Raul and Mireya, as one day I had suggested we drink some supermarket wine in the street just so we could say we'd tried it; but no....they are too refined for that!

Around the same time as someone is blaring out "Are you gonna go my way", a few blocks away (Lenny Kravitz), we board the night bus to Valdivia. 12 hours south and along the Pacific, we had heard from somewhere that you can get a tower of beer from this pleasant student town.

We are greeted by a nice lady at the bus station offering lodgings in her house. But as soon as we got there she turned into crazy-nazy lady, among other things, regimentally monitoring that in the 24 hours we were to be in Valdivia, we were only allowed 1 shower each. If one of us went to the toilet she would stand outside and listen to determine if we were trying to sneak a shower.
These are always the risks you take when you opt for homestays over hostels. Ah well!

After spending the day exporing the nearby beach resort and fortress, we were served lunch by a man who had been a waiter for over 50 years. Remarkably he still had a smile on his face.

(Pacific coast off Valdivia)

The university ground had a botanical garden with trees from all over the world offering us a pleasant afternoon stroll and nap. We didn't afterall, want to nap back at crazy-nazi ladies house.

Next, we were perfumed up and ready to exploit the real resaon we were here. We had located the tower. It was in a bar called Chopp and the tower was actually called "The Rocket". You could say we demolished the twin towers (we drank two Rockets), and readying to order our third we discover the bar was now closing. We also discover that the table across the way has only two guys, but enough beer to feed us all. We look over at them all puppy-eyed for a few moments before they kindly invite us over to join them. Ten minutes later we are walking to their house with a quick stop off to buy some Pisco Sour. One day you may have the misfortune to sample this lethal concoction for yourselves.

(The famous "Rocket")

It rendered both me and Raul crazy. After falling out of our new friends house some hour or so later, Raul was running away from us, and I was hiding from them. Magically we all got back to the homestay.

Something dreadful happened the following morning. And nothing to do with our hostess breaking our feet or tying us up like Kathy Bates in "Misery". Mireya lost her passport.

As you can imagine, the early morning 2 hour bus journey, was spent snoring on all parts, when we woke up to find Mireya's bag had been stolen. A bit of cash, a book, a digital camera and the passport. The timing was impeccable on the nuisance's part, as were just about to leave the country. Argentina was calling. But not for Mireya. Me and Raul dumped her there and continued on without her to Argentinian chocloate town Bariloche.

Next: What happened to Mireya and what was her reaction to me and Raul ditching on her like that in......Adventures of Argentina