Pichangas and punctures

I haven't written much (or indeed, anything) for a week and I have some time to burn so I thought I'd write an update. Not that there's much to tell mind, since leaving Concepción it has been more a case of moving rather than travelling. For one there is considerably less to see within easy reach on bike or public transport around this part of Chile, so there's not much point in lingering around, and also time is pressing. Hopefully I will be in Valparaiso by the end of the week and take a much needed break of two or three weeks. Physically I feel fine, but it has all gotten a bit tedious over the last couple of weeks, and if I don't spend some time away from the bike I can see myself ditching Toops for good within a month. I know this may sound a little negative but it really isn't; if you recall after completing my first day's ride I spoke about how that would be one of the easiest rides because it was still new and exciting. I can't say the cycling isn't exciting anymore, but many things surrounding it aren't, not least the scenery.

North-West Argentina beckons afterwards, and although I'm still undecided on the route a few cursory glances at the map suggests that I will have to camp quite often. Despite my initial reluctance to do so, I am no looking forward to it as hopefully it will make things more interesting. Besides, the prospect of having to wait two hours to cook dinner on a Trangia in the freezing Argentine desert is considerably preferable to some of the places I have had to stay in over the last two weeks.

So, where have I been? Ideally I would have kept meticulous and perceptive notes on the places I'd seen and people I'd met, but I haven't, so I'll just have to reel off from memory what I remember most about each place (if you don't like it, go buy a Bill Bryson book), here goes:

Contulmo - Contulmo was a nice little town on the edge of a lake that I can't remember the name of (seamless travel writing, I know), but it may as well have been on the edge of the Niagara Falls; the one and only thing I will remember it for is that the owner of the B&B I stayed in was the spitting image (physically and phonetically) of the Yes Guy from the Simpsons. I could barely contain my laughter everytime he spoke.

Lebu - I had been riding for the best part of 5 hours in 35 degrees, I had been chased by an angry dog (wolf, I reckon), I was exhausted and my water had run out, but when I cycled over the last ridge and down into Lebu I entered a thick sea fog that felt like heaven. I'm not spiritual, but I cannot think of a better way of describing it. Heaven; no more, no less. Lebu is also known for it's spectacular beaches, beaches which I only saw from afar as I cycled away having spent the best part of a day bedridden having fallen foul of the local sea produce.

Arauco - Worse accommodation of trip so far, best pichanga so far. Days of honey, days of marmite.

Lota - The strip of coastline running from Lota to Lebu constitutes the Costa del Carbon (Coal Coast), which until 1996 was Chile's coal mining heartland. Like most coal regions it has also been traditionally poor, and but for a stunning landscaped park (the whim of a coal magnate's wife) Lota is as close to a slum town as I have seen in Chile. The park, the abandoned mines and the owner's mansions now form a part of a museum circuit that goes some way in describing the miners', by all accounts, grim existence. Many would start working in the pit at 8 (years of age, not a.m.), work 16-hour shifts and if a miner living in company accommodation died, the company would give the family a coffin, four candles for the funeral and an eviction order.

Concepción - Chile's second largest city, Concepción is a student city and felt like a city. I loved it.

Chillán - It was at the B&B in Chillan that I met Steve and Sarah, from Tunbridge, and after my slump in Arauco, the company of fellow English-speaking travellers was a godsend. However, Steve did ask me that dreaded question: "Have you had any punctures?" Steve, if you are reading this, you weren't the first to ask it so don't worry, but you were the one that broke (or started, even) the malefice - over the next three days I had two. Like I said above, I'm not spiritual so I'm sure it was just a coincidence, but just in case you do have precognitive powers, next time you meet a cyclist ask him if he has gotten laid yet.

Parral - Birthplace of Chilean poet and Nobel Laureate Plablo Neruda. Do they have anything to commerate it? Do they fuck.

Talca, Curicó and San Fernando - Not to much to report (other than it's wine country and the home of Gato Negro, I felt humbled!), so that's all until Valparaiso folks.