Sola

Dear future me,

Finally, I did get myself moving again and left Santiago for what it is after seeing some cultural stuff: The English version of Avatar in the cinema, the Museum of Memory and Human Rights about the coup and reign of Pinochet, and a very bad theatrical performance of some pick pockets who tried to rob me in the metro. Sometimes it is safer to be on a motorcycle and so I left the big city behind and moved into the countryside. In the middle part of Chile loom the green fields of grapes (Santa Cruz area) and the yellow fields of grain (Lake area). Riding over small meandering two-lanes with the sun high in the air, I felt reborn and completely ready for the next 5 months. My bikey also feels up to the task as it has new tires, oils and a lot of new bolts to keep every part on board. I could take it to the test when I visited the beautiful National Park of the 7 coffee cups. In Las Siete Tazas, which refers to the water basins down a waterfall, there was some offroad to be done to get to the walking area. As I was not quite sure if it would be too much for my heavy loaded motorcycle, I decided to stay in a hostel outside the park. Well, that was not very smart of me. Most of the times you get into situations that are far worse than what you were trying to avoid. Not only did I have to survive a downhill track to hostel that was personally laid by the devil himself, I also had to sand board downhill to get to the park. Riding in the park however was easy peasy for me. Plus the walking to a stunning aqua colored basin was worth the whole ordeal.

From there I zigzagged my way across Chile. As this country is very slim you can easily go from the areas near the Argentina border to the rough and mesmerizing coastlines of the Pacific Ocean. All the other motor bikers who are riding down south, go in straight lines to get to the Carretera Austral and in the end all the way to Ushuaia. I decided not to go to Ushuaia on Fire Land (I’ve already been there) and that decision gives me a lot of space to roam around Chile for a while before I get to Argentina. There is so much to see here and the whole place reminds me a lot of France, Canada and the west coast of the States. There are trees everywhere and I’m sniffing the air to a point that I get too much oxygen in my blood. The sun is warm, but not too warm, so I’m still smiling at the end of the day. This is the mood that kept me going for the last two weeks. Following the coast, rocks and beaches, from Constitution to Concepcion, crossing over to the National Park Laguna de la Laja to enjoy the views on the Vulcano Antuco and the lake Laga in the East, taking a trip down memory lane when I visited the 7 Lake District, circling back to the coast to visit the surprisingly fantastic Bahia de Mansa to end up down here at Chiloë Island. And guess what….again I’m very tired.

I could try to describe what I have done and seen in those places, but sometimes even the English language doesn’t contain enough descriptive words to express LaLa land over here. Luckily for me I do see a lot of other people enjoying the same magic as I do, so I never feel alone in this. Meeting all these young families at the gas stations of ruta 5, who are on their way to a vacation spot. It reminds me of us Dutchies going en masse to France and freeing ourselves from the car to stretch our legs and get some food. Meeting fellow backpackers on the campsite in the NP Laguna de la Laja; joining for beers, watching them prepare pasta on a campfire while I eat a whole cake for dinner because I don’t cook, visiting the drunk old Chilean guy who likes to share his drinks, and having great conversations with the young Chilean campsite managers. It reminds me of my backpacking days back in Australia, where I could still lie down on a matrass without feeling pain in my bones and without freezing to death in the night. Enjoying the views on the lakes around Villarrica and Panguipulli with a group of motorcycle lovers from Temuco that are making a weekend trip. It reminds me of the Patagonia tour that I did 4 years ago with an international group of Motortrails, seeing the exact same views. Or sharing an awesome panorama with an Argentinean couple from our hosteria Casa del Mar and start talking about it 5 minutes before I should pack my bags, just to leave an hour later. That reminds me of everything I do: taking my time for what is important.

The question people asked me most on my travels is not about my name or where I am from. They ask me if I travel solo and when I say yes (which is pretty obvious as there is nobody around), everybody looks surprised. I do understand it though, when I boarded my plane at the start of my first solo trip (Australia) I sort of got a panic attack about the whole idea of being alone. But I learned that being ‘sola’ for me is a wonderful thing and very easy if you just let go. Especially when you meet so many great people on your way. So yes, I am a very happy Sola traveler ;)

See ya later,

Annemieke

P.S. Photos are coming soon........