Despite the somewhat uncomfortable accommodations, we had a good sleep and awoke only a half hour before the offices were to open for business.
Surveying the countryside we had not seen the night before, although mostly barren, we were surrounded by numerous extinct volcanoes. One could see some beauty in our otherwise bleak surroundings. The paperwork for Chile immigration and customs went smoothly (they probably felt sorry for these unkempt, possibly smelly, gringos), and soon after the offices opened at 8:00 AM we were through the gates. First priority – food and water! We found the only restaurant in town, and gobbled down buns, coffee, and the best scrambled eggs we’ve ever tasted. (hmmm… was it just our appetites or were they really that good?)
We knew the ride today would be better (how could it get worse?) but there was one major obstacle to overcome. Due to our many wrong turns and getting stuck so many times, we did not have enough fuel to make it to the next gas station.
The border town of Ollague, Chile did not have a gas station but after several inquiries, we were told that our only hope was to visit “city hall” and see what they could do for us. Chileans are obviously kind hearted people (or they wanted to get rid of the gringos) because they were kind enough to siphon some gas from a municipal department truck. They filled a pail with just as much as they could spare. It was about 20 liters which we split between the bikes which should get us to Calama.Pulling out my wallet, expecting this little faux paux to cost us dearly, the municipal employee, waved his hand no, no. We were in shock. I insisted but he insisted with more gusto and after many “mucho gracias” we fired up the bikes and were on our way.
Police letting us crash in their building? Town officials giving us free gas? Chile had stolen our hearts.
Weaving our way between volcanoes and more salt flats we had a good ride with plenty to see.
One of the volcanoes was kind enough to give us a show, spewing steam from a vent hole. Hopefully this was just to let us know she was there and no more.
We passed several operations which I thought were salt mines but a sign led us to believe they were mining Borax. I’m not clear on the difference… both are white and taste “salty”.
Guess what? Another desvio for road construction put us back on the desert in deep “flour” dust.
Not another day of duck walking the bikes! When will it end?
After about 25 kms we were back on the “highway” which was even blacktopped. We picked up speed and made our way southward. Have you ever wondered what “nothing” or “barren” looks like. Here’s a picture. Mile after mile of… nothing.
About half way to Calama, we came upon a bicyclist. What the hell is he doing out here in the middle of nowhere? A stop and short chat told us that he was from Germany and had been on the road for five and a half months. I asked him how he made out on the desvio and he said he walked his bike through a lot of it. I told him he should have put his bicycle on the back of a flatbed truck and hitched a ride. He looked at me as though I was crazy and stated emphatically that he would never do that. It struck me that it would be like me loading my motorcycle on a truck when the going got rough. Thinking back over the last couple days I realized it would take one hell of a lot of “rough” before I would do that! (Note that when we were in the salar, Corinne said she would do just that if only a truck had come along!)Lunch in a quaint little town called Chiu-Chiu and we were on our way to Calama. Both bikes had the fuel warning lights come on at about 40 kms from town, but we breathed a sigh of relief knowing that we should have about 80 to 100 kms of “reserve” in the motos.
The closer we came to Calama, the more signs we saw of how well Chile was doing economically compared to Peru and Bolivia. For example, there were several processing plants at the base of the foothills and three pipelines running adjacent to the highway, possibly carrying water and oil to the cities. The first homes we saw in the city looked like townhouses of Calgary’s 1970’s vintage, and we also passed a huge indoor shopping mall on the edge of town.
By the way, we discovered that if you want to buy a motorcycle in Chile, you visit the local “Future Shop”. They have a nice assortment, but don’t expect to buy a Goldwing!
Calama is a bit of a seedy city, but to us on this day it was like heaven on earth. We found nice accommodation “Paradise on the Desert” – how appropriate. Although the “secure” parking was three blocks away, as it turned out they had a carwash, this time with a real pressure washer so all was well in the world. The parking lot security man was excited about our BMW bikes, as he explained that he has a BMW too – but a car. He suggested it would only cost a few pesos to get the bikes washed, and of course we were very willing clients.
Again as I pulled out my wallet to pay for the bike wash, the operator shook his hand no, no. He had obviously enjoyed drooling over the motos as he sprayed off the mud. This time I insisted on giving him a propina (tip) - about 2 dollars.
Did I mention that Chileans are nice people?
