2 January 2023
It was our last day in Santiago. Maggie and I packed up in the hostel, then left our big packs in the lockers for the morning. We went out for breakfast at Wonderland Cafe, an Alice in Wonderland themed restaurant. It was a little kitschy, but a fun vibe, and being in a touristy neighborhood, all the staff spoke great English.
We wandered around the city, trying to find a currency exchange, but they were all closed. Seems the new year’s hangover was spilling over into Monday, or more likely, everyone was observing the holiday since New Year’s Day was on Sunday. Oh well… Maggie and I were planning on doing some backpacking in the near future, so we walked to a gear store to buy fuel for our stoves. After miles, we walked back to the hostel to get our backpacks, then to a city bus stop. We walked miles through Santiago, but barely scratched the surface of this massive city.
Our next stop was Rancagua, just an hours drive south of Santiago. First we needed to take a city bus to the bus terminal. There were tons of city buses passing by, but none of them stopped for us. We learned by watching that you had to flag down the bus you wanted, kind of like hailing a taxi. After waiting for 20 mins, we got the right bus to pull over for us. The payment was only through an RFID card. When we held up cash, the bus driver looked at us like we were stupid and just waved us on. Makes sense, they probably don’t want bus drivers handling a bunch of cash. It was a quick three miles down Av. Bernardo O’higgins and we made it to the bus terminal for a ride to our next destination. The bus terminal is kind of like a mini-airport – tons of food vendors, ticket offices, and platforms to board buses. We found the bus company we wanted and asked for two tickets to Rancagua. The woman at the desk said something we didn’t understand, then somewhat impatiently said, “¿¡Ahora?!” (Now?!) We paid for the tickets and she pointed, “La machina.” We stood there dumbfounded and she exited the door in the back of the booth, emerged out front next to us, then escorted us to the bus. They were loading up and leaving soon, so it was perfect timing! We thanked the woman from the ticket office, handed over our packs to the bus attendant, and hopped on. These long distance buses are high class, and fairly affordable too. Picture those big tour buses you see in popular cities or national parks. Comfy reclining seats, good A/C, and large windows for a panoramic view of the Andes.
Maggie and I were just starting to feel comfortable in Santiago, but we were excited to move on. A quick hour passed on the bus and we were in Rancagua. We walked a mile to our next hostel. The gates were closed and locked, and there wasn’t any obvious signage to indicate we were in the right place. I eventually called the phone number on the reservation. I said we were outside and needed help. A response in Spanish I didn’t understand, then in English, “I will come in a little bit.” Maggie and I got comfortable in the driveway. Ten or so minutes later, our host pulled up. “Disculpe, excuse me…” she said. The three of us entered the hostel together where our host, Anna Maria, checked us in. She spoke decent English, and she was very nice. “What are you doing HERE? Why you come to Rancagua? It is not a tourist town..” she said. We explained that we wanted to go to a small national park in the Andes nearby, Reserva Nacional Rio de los Cipreses. She seemed vaguely familiar. After showing us to our room, Anna Maria left again, and we settled in. Having learned that dining out was quite time consuming and expensive, we decided to go grocery shopping and prepare our own meals. Maggie and I walked a couple blocks to Lider, Chilean Walmart – literally, it has the same six sided yellow star on a field of light blue. Grocery shopping in a foreign country was a novel experience. Same same, but different. Thankfully, most packaging has pictures of the contents, so translation isn’t much of an issue. We wandered the aisles, curiously looking at all the Chilean variations on familiar foods, and some stuff we had never seen before. We were able to find just about everything we were looking for. Then came check out. It was going fine until we had to pay. I tried my credit card, which had been working at most places, but not everywhere. The cashier was very patient, stepping me through a couple of options, but it ended up being denied. It seems there is one bank in Chile that does not play nice with some American credit cards. After another try, we just paid in cash. I looked back and saw a long line of shoppers looking at me impatiently, probably thinking “gringo estupido“. My deepest apologies to anyone from the Rancagua Lider who might be reading this.
We made dinner back at the hostel and ate out on the patio. It was so nice to sit out on a patio in the summer breeze again, while our friends in the north deal with snow and short days. We made preparations for getting outside the next day and got to bed at a reasonable hour.
3 January 2023
Maggie and I made breakfast in the hostel, then packed up for a day hike in the hill. We walked to a bus stop at 9:40 am. We definitely got a few looks standing on this side street in Rancagua. It certainly felt like we were in a bit of an odd spot, standing in the dirt next to a lone bus stop sign.
We were hoping to get on a bus to Coya. Supposedly it ran every hour. Well, we waited for an hour and saw plenty of buses, but none to Coya… Our enthusiasm to get out for a hike was quickly waning, since we were running out of time to even attempt the hike we wanted to do. Grimacing at each other, we called it and walked back to the hostel with our proverbial tails between our legs. It was a major bummer, but this was perhaps the lesson we needed. We hadn’t booked anything in advance, other than Santiago and Torres del Paine. We didn’t want to get locked in to an itinerary, but here our lack of plans finally fell through. With this extra time, we were motivated to get more plans in order, so we booked stuff out and made more reservations for the next week or so. After lunch we, went for a short run around the neighborhood to get some activity in for the day. We showered up, then walked into town to exchange some cash. It was kind of hard to find the place, tucked away on lower level of the Rancagua mall. Other than the Spanish everywhere, the mall looked identical to an American mall, which was again weird but familiar.
We got some cash and headed back towards the hostel. I didn’t know what to expect from Rancagua, but it was a nice mid-sized city, welcome relief from the hustle and bustle in Santiago. Maggie and I picked up some sushi to compliment our leftovers from the night before. We enjoyed our dinner with a bottle of wine Maggie had picked up the day before. The evening was fairly relaxed, and while we were disappointed we didn’t make it to the mountains, we were content with the day.
4 January 2023
Maggie and I packed up all of our belongings yet again and walked back to the bus terminal for the 11 am bus to Pichilemu. This town was a recommendation from an acquaintance in New Mexico. Pichilemu’s claim to fame is the consistent, burly surf that rolls into its long black sand beach. It was summer vacation again, so we had to hit the beach at some point! We had no trouble buying tickets and finding our bus this time around.
I grabbed a $3 chicken sandwich from a vendor walking around with a basket of snacks, kind of like what you would see at sporting events. Well that chicken sandwich turned out to be the driest, saliva desiccating disappointment of the trip… We were in for a 3 hour ride to the coast. The Chilean countryside rolled by, a montane backdrop following us most of the way. Timber plantations of pine and eucalyptus lined the roads for the last few miles to Pichilemu as we left the arid central valley. As we pulled in to town, I was a little turned off by some run down houses and rusty metal roofs. Again, I was thinking “Where are we?” We walked to our hostel and immediately realized that Pichilemu was indeed quite cute, and those run down buildings were the exception, rather than the rule.
We were staying just off the main drag in town, and only a few short blocks from the beach. It was a gorgeous afternoon, so we dropped our stuff in our room and immediately went out on the town.
Rooftop Patio at the hostel
The beach was poppin’, most everyone with little sun tents dotting the shore. Pichilemu was clearly a tourist destination for Chileans, and we could see why. The black sand beach was so fine and soft, it was a pleasure to walk on. The raging waves crashed in to the rocks off shore, their first obstacle in a few thousand miles.
We walked to the south end of the beach, then back through the rows of restaurants and shops. The place was alive with activity. The town was reminiscent of Seaside, Oregon, but the climate was more like Los Angeles here at 34°S. We found a restaurant for dinner, where we were once again treated to a waiter who spoke some English. For starters, we ordered a pisco sour, a kind of Chilean brandy.
The food was outstanding as well, the best meal yet in Chile. Salad and potatoes for both of us, veggie burger for Maggie and buttered pomfret (fish) for me. We wandered the streets a little more, then went for a grocery trip. We brought some beers back to the hostel and watched the sun fade behind the clouds from the rooftop patio.
5 January 2023
It was a cool and cloudy morning, with the clouds forecast to hang around all day. We had hoped to spend some time at the beach, but it definitely was not beach weather. Maggie and I opted for a run, thinking we could get hot and sweaty, then cool off in the 60°F ocean. Various mapping apps indicated there was a trail through some woods south of town. One of the hostel hosts said we should go for it. We set off, jogging along side streets to avoid the crowds of tourists. We were trying to find a trail head next to a lagoon which would take us to the woods. We were in the neighborhood adjacent to the lagoon, but the trail should have been downhill about 100 feet. After a couple navigational difficulties, we turned down an alley where two barking dogs greeted us. Uh.. no thanks. As we turned around, a local man came out to talk to us. I asked of there was a trail down there and if the dogs were “malo” (bad). I had no idea what his response was, but he was smiling and waving his hand downhill, encouraging us to go for it. We met the dogs again, and once we got closer, the barking stopped and tail wagging began. Bien, perros.
We walked aimlessly down the private(?) driveway, stepped through some bushes, and crawled through a wooden fence to the trail. Alright, success at last. Tiptoeing around cow pies, we followed the trail for a bit, which took us back up to a dirt road. Down the next hill, we hit a gate – “Calle Privado/No Entrar“. Shoot, this was supposed to be our trail through the woods. We turned back and decided running on sidewalks through town was probably the best choice at this point. It was a nice way to see more of Pichilemu, even if we didn’t find the trail we sought. Back at the hostel, we were feeling warm from our little adventure, so we thought this was the time to hit the beach and cool off. Of course, by the time we got down to the water, we had mostly cooled down, but this was our beach day. Nothing could stop us from getting in the ocean now. However, we noticed no one else was in the water. The lifeguard towers had red flags flapping in the breeze. We thought it would be wise to ask, “¿Podemos nadar? (Can we swim?)” Another long winded answer in Spanish from the lifeguard, till she said in English, “Oh you don’t understand… Yeah, you can swim, but the current is strong, just stay in sight of the tower.” Let’s gooo! We set our stuff down and went for a quick dip.
The water was in the low 60s, not so frigid to be painful, but definitely cold. The biggest breaking waves were further out, but even 10 yards from the beach, I could feel the current and the energy in the water that the life guard was talking about. We sat on our towels, drinking a beer with the stray beach dogs (a common sight thus far in Chile).
The clouds were still in full force, so it wasn’t the beach day of our dreams, but we did it. Eventually, the wind picked up, and once the sandblasting began, we had had enough. We walked along the beach and found and empanada stand for lunch, which we ate in the palm tree park overlooking the beach. We showered back at the hostel to warm up, then went back out for bread and fruit for breakfast the next day. Maggie and I made pasta for dinner and got to bed early, feeling mostly satisfied with our Pichilemu adventures.
Distance Over Time 