May 12, 2016
Crossing Paths: km769 to Bahia Inglesa.
I am kept awake most of the night by a truck parked up overnight with its engine ticking over, supposedly to run the heating while the driver sleeps.
I get on the road well before nine. Another fine day. On from where I'd camped is a straight downhill, which levels out in a saddle going straight up again. Then surfaces upon a plateau where a new road 5 split off on the left and descends a wide sloping plain, in so doing bypasses Copiapo. The old road 5, back to old single carriageway standard continues to Copiapo. A few kilometres on it climbs again, steeply round behind a cluster of hills closing the plain off to the east. I am feeling exhausted already with lack of sleep slowly grinding up the hill which seems to go on and on without an end in sight. Then over the summit the road is a ten kilometre fairly steep downhill to town. I pity anyone having to ride up.
I pass mines on the way; big spoil heaps and dust along the hillside to the left and the outskirts of town is pretty much ugly. I pass a memorial upon which I recognize the thick rimmed glasses and face of former president, Salvador Allende and a list of names of local party members and trade unionists murdered by the military shortly after the 11th of September 1973 coup.
In the centre I find Copiaco a proper city. Clean and tidy. There's a large supermercado where I stock up on basics for a few days.
In the afternoon upon the road on which deviates west toward the coast and having re-joined the new road, I'm stunned a moment after banging my shin with a pedal attempting to take a self-timed photo. When I come to my senses again and look up I see two cyclists on the opposite carriage way heading toward Copiapo. Its quite a way across to them and they seem not to have seen me. They are two cyclists I've been expecting to meet tomorrow according to my calculation. They being also Crazyguyonabike journal keepers, which I've followed and knew they are on route 5 coming south. I shout out "hola" three maybe four times until I've got their attention.
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Well what can I say. It is great to meet two other likeminded people, Michael Rice and daughter Jocelyn, made possible through this website. We chat about our tours. I ask about them having their bag stolen in Peru. The person that lifted their bag in the bus terminal in Pisco had been witnessed boarding a bus for Lima. Therefore it seems straightforward that the police could've stopped the bus and apprehended the thief and they get their bag back. But accordingly the local police needed a statement from them first. They liked Ecuador and Colombia. They say it rains often which combined with high altitude, makes for miserable cold weather, something which puts me off going that far north.
Before we part they tell me about being in Bahia Inglesa, a fishing village on the coast where they say it's possible to camp on the beach, so set my sight on ending the day there.
I stop at a Copec service station not far on for a coffee and use the wifi, remaining there until five, a little too long as it is still 35 kilometres to Bahia Inglesa. So going further it takes to nightfall reaching Bahia Inglesa. At the end of the waterfront street, I find a way down through a spur of rocks to the beach and find a spot to pitch the tent on the sand between two boulders. With the tent up, a motley pack of local dogs come and bark at my tent, but I ignore them and they soon shut up and leave.
Today's ride: 112 km (70 miles)
Total: 9,472 km (5,882 miles)
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