Back to Santiago. First let’s start with the car. We were sad to leave Rupe and Carlena’s place but nonetheless we said our goodbyes and left for a long drive back to Santiago in order to meet Jimmy and Tracey the next morning. Señor Vánchez had been so reliable so far that mechanical issues were a distant thought way back somewhere in  our subconscious. Boy were we about to get a rude shock… Half an hour past the town of Cauquenes cruising at 100kph, the engine abruptly stopped and we silently coasted to a halt. Shit. We were in the middle of nowhere. So off we trudged to the nearest farmhouse, and were fortunate that the people inside were very helpful and called a mechanic from Cauquenes for us. During our wait they fed us (without asking) a lunch of fresh from their farm hard-boiled eggs (chicken and duck varieties), sugared rock melon and ice cream. We patted their huge grey cat Lucas, their greyhound Flaco, and chatted the time away whilst trying not to ogle as the man’s elderly father swatted flies at the table and the woman’s elderly father swatted bark off the trees for a purpose only known unto him. As the hours ticked by uncertainty was creeping in about whether this mechanic was ever going to arrive. We cursed our luck that on the one day of our journey where we actually HAD to be somewhere (with Jimmy and Tracey flying into Santiago the next morning), we were stuck waiting for a mechanic six hours from Santiago in the middle of nowhere. We consoled ourselves with the fact that things definitely could have been worse (think the Atacama desert or remote southern Patagonia) so there was nothing to do but wait.

 Finally, in rolled Carlos the mechanic and his apprentice who was too concerned with his appearance and staring at the gringa to notice anything Carlos was saying. Five minutes after removing the cover from the timing belt our worst fears were realised, the timing belt was broken. We had requested the belt be checked by two separate mechanics, and both sincerely reassured us that it was fine. But after 186,000kms the original belt finally gave in. Carlos said it was “muy mal. muy muy mal” (very bad. very very bad). Anyway to cut this story a bit shorter, we got a super sketchy tow back to his workshop in Cauquenes (the apprentice drove the small truck which towed us with an eight foot rigid tow bar and averaged 90-100kph the whole way to town, completely ignoring his boss’s instructions, which was scary when he didn’t signal when he was about to brake….) then got a lift to the local bus station, which in Southern Chile rural towns is just an open air shed. Low and behold, we arrived at the bus station at 5.45pm and had missed the last daytime bus to Santiago by 15minutes! The next bus was at 12.30am, so it was a very long and very cold wait. Matt was cactus by the time we hopped on the bus, and had spent two hours sleeping on the concrete next to his boards.

We finally made it to Santiago just before dawn, got all the boards, bags and our weary bodies etc into a cab (read: miracle) and arrived at our usual home in the city, Altura Suites. They had hooked us up with a really nice room this time and we had a quick nap before hightailing it to the airport for the arrival of our guests. All in all a simple 6-7 hour drive turned into a 2 hour drive, followed by a 3 hour wait and a tow, a cold 7 hour wait for the bus and a 5 hour bus ride (17 hour mission). What really stood out though, was the incredible hospitality shown by Jeronimo and Guille who owned the farmhouse, and Carlos the mechanic, who was sincerely sympathetic of our misfortune. Carlos reassured us of the time he would take to replace any damage caused to the engine and replace the belt, and gave us a very good price considering we didn’t have any other option. Every time we have needed help in Chile and Argentina complete strangers have been generous and more than willing to help, which for us, meeting genuine people like this reminds us of the kindness in strangers, and is the reason we love travelling by these means. Jimmy summed it up perfectly after he and Tracey arrived. We were sitting back in our room saying cheers to their arrival with a couple of drinks and explaining our nightmare the day before and he said simply “well look at it this way, those will be the moments that stand out in years to come”. Very true. And after all, the old saying is “it’s not an adventure until something goes wrong”.

So after collecting Tracey and Jimmy we headed back to our second home in Pichilemu for a week. They also came along for a big day of driving to pick up the car from Cauquenes which was good fun because they saw a really authentic part of rural Chile including a stroll/shop through the Saturday morning market in Cauquenes, which was the best fresh produce market Beth and I had seen in all of our time here.

                  

The sunsets from the cabaña and Punta de Lobos each afternoon were spectacular, it was really nice to share that view with them (and Ziggy). I think they were very shocked by how things work here (“I can’t believe there are so many stray dogs!”) haha. But with the Pichilemu chapter ending, we headed back to Santiago for Noelene and Barry to complete the group for a couple of weeks. We spent a few days in Santiago for some nice food, to show the group around and they even witnessed the passion of futbol fans en masse including riot police in all their glory (water canons included).

                  

And then we were off in convoy to Valparaiso. Valparaiso is a really cool place, we thoroughly enjoyed it. It is full of amazing street art in a large port city, framed by steep hills and accessed by very, very old funiculars which only work on a semi-regular basis. It is a beautiful place full of history. I hope Beth and I have the time to go back as we had a really great time with everybody but there are still so many places to see. Then before we knew it, everybody was flying out, even Noelene and Barry were going home due to their trip being cut short by Calbuco volcano in the south blowing its top and massive dramas with flights that we won’t go into for fear of bringing back bad memories for them.

                  

                 

                 

And then they were all gone. Initially it felt out of place seeing everybody here in Chile but after three weeks it felt lonely to just be the two of us again. Plus it’s kind of fun being tour guides, we had a sick time and were so glad that everyone came over to say hello. But we had little time to dwell on that as we rocketed north through the Atacama Desert bound for Arica. This part of the journey is better told in photos.

                     

this is the Manos del Desierto. The middle of the desert about 100km from Antofagasta in Northern Chile, it is a pretty bizarre but cool thing to see rise up in the distance when there has been nothing but sand for hours

beachfront camping in the Atacama. This was such a nice spot away from everything, no people anywhere just us, the beach and the desert. very beautiful and remote.

Iquique…the road in. It really wasn’t too much of an interesting place, but has such an amazing view of the town/city on the descent down the hill. The real positives from Iquique were the people and definitely one of the more hospitable places we have visited (especially when it comes to surf culture). It is so refreshing to paddle out into good waves with nothing but locals speaking Spanish and have every one of the five or six people in the lineup stop to say hello and show genuine interest in where you are from, how you find the waves in Chile, and where your journey is taking you. We are all surfers and this is how lineups should be everywhere, so hats off and thank you to Iquique and its locals for the amazing hospitality.

El Colegio, Iquique… didn’t have much success at this wave. It’s super heavy and breaks close to the shelf (which is razor sharp) but jagged a few, no really memorable ones. It is very hard to surf and a lot of barrels pinch at the end.

This wave looked F#*KING EVIL. It is about a mile offshore and is used as an indicator of sets approaching when you are sitting at El Colegio. When you see this scenario you are about 30-40 seconds from a BIG set hitting the reef. I don’t even know how big this wave was that day but I don’t think I wanted to find out. You can hear the booming noise of the lip detonating at the base of the wave from a mile away and that is no joke… scary shit and very eerie from that distance.

This local bloke charged and was a super nice dude. This was a bomb and he was right in the spot. He had El Colegio pretty wired.

Beth getting arty with her edits. El Colegio again on my 7’0″

Late arvo surfs in Iquique. Not much room for error on your entry and exit.

Beth and I spent a few days in Lauca NP close to the Bolivian border before travelling to Arica. Very high altitudes and breathtaking landscapes.

Beth. Lauca NP 4700m….breathless.

This guy. Señor Vánchez got up some damn big hills for our few days in the altiplano. Proud of him.

Arica. This wave is called ‘El Gringo’ and was made famous from the World Tour Search contest that was held there almost ten years ago now. It is still nearly empty every day and is probably the scariest wave that I have ever surfed. My first wave saw me get pounded and cop the next five on the head whilst getting washed across the shelf. Fair to say my nerves were a bit shot after that. The left breaks so close to the rock shelf (which is very sharp) that you have to see it to believe it. Scary and not surprising that it has stayed so uncrowded.

‘El Gringo’ again. Arica is a pretty cool little place considering the surrounding landscape and Beth and I enjoyed the week that we spent there. Once again I think I spent more time getting pounded at El Gringo rather than getting many memorable waves.

After much discussion we decided to leave Señor Vánchez in Arica in long term parking and we are currently rocketing north through Peru, scoring amazing waves and meeting some really good humans. More of this next time.

Hasta luego b + m