April 30, 2016
Cold Or No: Valparaiso to Calera.
The last few days, well, since I woke up on Thursday morning with a sore throat, I've had a cold, so, I'm not full of energy and enthusiasm for setting off today. I even thought of putting it off one more day, but know I would still have the same feeling tomorrow, and I've been here two weeks, already. Rather than staying longer, I'm looking to taking it easy on the road with plenty of undisturbed sleep in my tent, while getting over the cold.
I eventually get round to wheeling the loaded bike out the door about eleven. Bedo the dog having sensed the bike coming, rises out of the way in the doorway and crosses the street, to take up his favourite spot to lay in the sun. He looks back at me knowingly, "Well, there's another one gone on his way." Then lays down his head to sleep. I take one last look around before releasing the bike down the steep hill, with my new brake-pads working well at slowing until turning right at the bottom into the chaos of one of the busiest streets through the city, wherewith Saturday shoppers and "collectivos" (small buses and taxis), either blocking the way, or suddenly swinging without warning into the curb.
Then I think of taking the road following the waterfront north to neighbouring seaside resort city, Vina del Mar, upon dual-carriageway, but find there's no shoulder and a death-trap on blind bends round cliff faces on the inside. Again, collectivos are the vehicles that almost run me over as they are in a mad rush cutting bends. Bus and taxi drivers are the lowest of the low when it comes to skimming pass tightly. Suffice to say its a fearful ride until I get to a foot bridge, and although an awkward heavy lift up the steps and down the other side, a lot better than dying. On the other side is a rough track along rail lines, which leads to a footpath the rest of the way into the next city.
I arrive in the main pedestrian street at one. My first thought coffee. Then see fish and chips on a table outside a café, not actual called so, nor cod, but battered and deep-fried whiting nonetheless. It is just the thing to set me up for the afternoon, in fact I don't even need to eat in the evening.
I spend the afternoon on route 62, which is a proper autopista, or motorway with signs, little pictures of a cyclist, a pedestrian, horse drawn-carriage and so on, en-circled with stroke through, meaning not permitted; but, I don't see any alternative, other than getting lost in the urban sprawl which spreads through the valleys and climbing some mega steep hills. There is a nice smooth vehicle wide shoulder and the gradients are gradual. At one point a distinctive green and white "Carabineros de Chile" police car passes and I hope they aren't radioing some bored motorcyclist parked up somewhere to come and put me to rights. But it doesn't happen.
By the end of the day I reach route 5, north, and a few kilometres further I halt at a small river. The riverbank having a perfect patch of grass to pitch the tent.
Today's ride: 98 km (61 miles)
Total: 8,701 km (5,403 miles)
| Rate this entry's writing | Heart | 0 |
| Comment on this entry | Comment | 0 |