New Orleans (May 2013)

After squeezing in a trip to Easter Island, it was time to head back to the States for a two week trip. Because of recent events, we have a lot to fit in. First we are flying to New Orleans for six days. Tom’s sister Jeanne is an OB/GYN doctor and has been elected president of the American College of Obstetrics and Gynecology (ACOG). She will be inaugurated at their annual meeting which is being held in New Orleans. From there we fly home to Sacramento and will attend the memorial service and funeral for Tom’s mom and then we go to Los Angeles to see our niece Haley graduate from USC (University of Southern California) and to watch her swim at a meet in Santa Monica before flying back to Santiago. For regular readers of my blog, Haley won the silver medal in the 10K marathon swim at the Olympics in London last year. We will leave Winston with Isabel and her family and the motorhome in Algarrobo at Hans’ place. We are really excited about our trip to New Orleans. Tom has never been there and it is years, 20 or more, since I have. Danny will be joining us for 5 of the days and then travel with us to Sacramento. From Santiago, we will fly into Dallas and on to New Orleans. The flight was uneventful and we actually spend the flight catching up on new movies that we missed seeing while traveling. As the plane descends, we fly over swamp land and then follow the Mississippi River with Lake Pontchartrain in the distance before landing. The city is named after Orléans; a city located on the Loire River in France, and is always on the ten most visited cities in the USA list, every year. Well known for its distinct French Creole architecture as well as its cross-cultural and multilingual heritage, the city is also famous for its cuisine, music (particularly jazz), and its annual celebrations and festivals, most notably Mardi Gras and the Jazz Festival. And we are going to be able to enjoy it with most of the family. In addition to us and Danny, within the next couple of days, all of Toms other siblings will be here along with Jeanne’s two children, Ryan and Erin and Ryan’s fiancé, Sandra. We have booked a suite at the La Quinta in downtown since it has two bedrooms and large enough for us and Danny who arrives tomorrow night. The rest of the family is staying at the Hilton and it is already arranged that we will go there, meet up and have dinner together, this evening. Jeannie and Bruce’s corner penthouse suite at the Hilton also has two bedrooms but is three times the size of ours and is the largest we have seen. From the top floor windows, there are fabulous views of the Mississippi and it is luxurious by anyone’s standards. Over the next few days we spent many times enjoying all the amenities the suite offered as because she is “president elect” she has a lot of entertaining to do and a star feature was an extremely well stocked bar. Dinner is at Brennans in the French Quarter and there are only six of us. Jeannie, Bruce, Tom and I and Ryan and Sandra. Erin has been at the Jazz Festival all day and is exhausted, she lives in France and is battling jet lag, and Brian, Tom’s brother has a flight mix-up and is running late. As we walk to the French Quarter, we are enthralled by all the sights. The French Quarter (known locally as "the Quarter" or Vieux Carré), which dates from the French and Spanish eras, contains many popular hotels, bars, restaurants and nightclubs and the Brennan family own a few different restaurants in the Quarter. New Orleans is world-famous for its food. The indigenous cuisine is distinctive and is the result of centuries of amalgamation from French, Spanish, Italian, African, Native American, Cajun, Chinese, and a hint of Cuban traditions which combine to produce the truly unique and easily recognizable Louisiana flavor. This is the first of many restaurants we will try and we are looking forward to experience the different styles and tastes of the city. Brennans is upscale and impeccable. Food, service and ambiance, it had it all. As we all ate and caught up on one another’s news we make plans for the next few days. Jeanne and Bruce are busy with convention and ACOG business but Ryan and Sandra decide they will accompany us to the Jazz Festival tomorrow along with Brian, Tom’s brother and niece, Erin. It is the final day of the festival and we are fortunate to be able to go for at least one day. Both Tom and I love jazz so we are anticipating some good music, food and of course the company of our family.

Easter Island - Photographs

Here is the link for our photographs of Easter Island. Taken in May 2013. https://plus.google.com/photos/118181109521024542820/albums/5915039943378494161

Photos of Chile

This is link for all the photos Chile. Copy and paste into browser, click on slideshow and enjoy. https://plus.google.com/photos/118181109521024542820/albums/5910970841199463809

A big change in plans.

Leaving Pueblo de Mallku, we continued on Chile 11 towards Putre when we heard a slight problem with the RV. The road is very steep and after camping at over 10,200 feet (2,300 meters) we started another steady climb quickly. Then, we heard the transmission starting to slip again. As regular readers know, we have already been stranded for 5 days in the Andes in Argentina when our transmission went out and it took us almost 6 months to ship another from the States. So having experienced that adventure before, we do not want a repeat. We pull over at a small gravel area and Tom goes underneath to check the transmission system. The motorhome is on a Ford E350 chassis and it is a lot of weight for the V8 engine to pull, particularly on these steep grades. Although he finds nothing wrong, no leaks or smells or extreme heat as he gets back in, we chat. For 5 minutes and come to a decision. It isn’t worth risking a break-down to continue to Bolivia and we scrap the plan and come up with a new one. We will go back to Arica and cross the border into Peru. From there, we will figure out another route into Bolivia, which may involve leaving the motorhome somewhere and renting another vehicle. We do want to see Bolivia and we definitely want to stay on Lake Titicaca and also visit Regina and Mimi in Cochabamba. As we make the now steep descent into Arica, we talk over our new route and schedule. We have only glanced at the map of Peru for the southern section so right now don’t have any ideas as to what we will find but from experience something always shows up. Crossing the border turned into a slight ordeal because of Winston. Peru has recently changed its law regarding pets entering from Chile, only Chile. No-one at the Chilean border informed us and we were stamped and checked out no problem. The Peru building is a short drive away and we quickly clear immigration. Then declaring Winston to the Senesa officials they told us about the new law. They said we needed to go back to the Chilean building and obtain an exportation certificate from there. I asked to see the head of SENESA and after handing my passport over to a guard, was given a visitors tag and taken up to the second floor to his office. He studied all my paperwork which is considerable and said “No, this is our new law and you need to drive back to the Chilean building and get the permit”. We drive back and while Tom and Winston stay outside of Chilean territory, in what is termed “no-man’s land”, I walk back with our paperwork. Again I am told by Aduana that I need nothing more and to go. I argue and insist on seeing a SAG (agriculture control) official. Sure enough SAG told me that I did indeed need a certificate but they didn’t issue them. We should have had him inspected by a federal vet in Arica who would have issued a health certificate and an importation permit for Peru. I told them we had already been stamped out of Chile and gone through immigration in Peru. To which they responded that we would need to exit Peru and re-enter Chile and return to Arica unless we could somehow get the Peruvians to allow Winston to enter without it. I walked back and explained the problem to Tom and we drove back to the Peru side. I went back to the same area and after surrendering my passport to a guard again, who now knew me and led me back to the office and the head of SENESA. I told him the border did not issue the permit. I told him that we would need to leave Peru and re-enter Chile to go to Arica. I told him we have passed many borders and have not had a problem. I pleaded and all the time shuffled the paperwork in front of him. I sat, he sat. Another official came in and they chatted. Maybe they could make an exception since he was actually an American dog and not Chilean. We were only transiting through Peru. I could sense them starting to relent and pushed my case further. In the end, they agreed to let us in with Winston and put that ever-important stamp on our paperwork. Both Tom and I are always amazed at these laws about pets. I understand needing copies of all vaccinations and paperwork stating ownership and responsibility but in all these countries there are so many dogs, strays wandering around that are infected with God knows what, that to attempt to control the issue by not allowing animals which are obviously pets, especially in our case. We have had Winston travelling with us now for over three years, he is our pet and when we leave a country, he will accompany us. But now, all our paperwork is in order and no money changed hands. We offered to pay for the cost of the certificate, should we have had to return to Arica but they declined. They did however accept with much interest, San Jose Fire Dept. pins that we carry from Tom’s service with the dept and we were just grateful that we did not have to go through the hassle of going back to Chile. After a vehicle inspection, in which all of our fruits and veggies were confiscated, not much – a few carrots, one tomato and some garlic – we were on our way. Leaving the main road of Peru Route 1, we decided to go over to the coast and find a beach town to park for the night and where we can consider our route and options. What a day. From thinking we would go to Bolivia, we are now in Peru. When we started the trip, we knew that remaining flexible to changing situations was a big key and today is a prime example. We will figure something out and after that small problem in the morning; the motorhome ran like a champ. Go figure.

Arica to Putre – Chile 11

Heading north from Arica, we left the Pan American Highway to start the climb over the Andes on Chile’s Route 11. This really steep winding road is the main highway between Arica and La Paz, Bolivia and it is reckoned that more than 600 trucks every day drive this route. Given that and the fact that this is only a two lane road for most of the way, we knew it would be slow going but our schedule is providing for that. We know we need to acclimatize slowly. The first part of the route takes us by the Rio Lluta and through the Lluta valley and we start looking for the markers that indicate the Lluta geoglyphs. Also known as the Gigantes de Lluta, they are carved into the hillside along the way. The idea is at the markers, pull over and examine the mountain for the pre-Colombian figures that supposedly include birds, llamas and stick figures. Well, maybe the sun was in our eyes or maybe I have no imagination but I couldn’t make out much but some lines, maybe! We were tempted to stop at EcoTruly, a Hare Krishna ashram for lunch but it is getting late and there is a lot of traffic and we want to get to the posada before dark. The road is now in a steep incline and we are rapidly climbing through switchbacks and steep drop offs. We are concerned about the motorhome but all seems well and it is not getting too hot nor does the transmission appear to be slipping. We know we are pulling a lot of weight for our engine and the steepness of the grades is incredible. We are also counting the kilometer markers on the road as the posada we are intending to stay for the night is supposedly at km88. Online and in books, it says that this is a beautiful posada with great campsites and that the owners are welcoming with “freshly baked bread on your arrival.” Well, all that information needs a big updating! Because the posada is now called Pueblo de Mallku and as the name suggests it has been repossessed by an indigenous group. The main building is now little more than a shack and when we arrived there were only four children between say eight and fourteen running the place. They told us that their parents were in Arica and did not know when they would return. There was no electricity so we just pulled over onto a flat parking area for the night. We are now at 10, 233 feet (3,200 meters) elevation and taking Winston for his walk, I felt the breathlessness from the altitude. The disappointment at the posada was tempered with a feeling of relief that the motorhome seemed to be doing ok in spite of the grades and elevation but we know tomorrow will be a bigger test. Putre is at 14,000 feet elevation and the road to there is supposed to be an even steeper grade.

Arica

The next morning we made our way along the beach road to find our camping site. Camping Sumaki is close to the north end of the playa about 200 meters down a dirt road so we were hoping it would be quiet and relaxing after our hair-raising drive from yesterday. But when we arrived the place was busy and overflowing with teens. It turns out that the campground is owned and managed by Christians and on Sundays they run youth revival meetings. We were assured that it ended at 5pm. Winston had a wonderful time introducing himself to all the kids and making new friends. He even sat and visited with them in the music hall, he was sorry to see them leave! We spent the next couple of days exploring the city and planning the next part of our trip into Bolivia. Arica is really not typical of a border city. In some ways the people whose families has lived in the area for years consider themselves as much Peruvian as they do Chilean. The city belonged to Peru until the Battle of the Pacific and did not become a territory of Chile until 1929. There is also a very strong pre-Colombian indigineous culture which is evident in the number of geoglyphs in the region and in the Azapa Valley which has some of the world’s oldest known mummies on display at the museum. But we spent our days roaming the beautiful and surprisingly clean beach. Nestled into a bay, the brown sand beach stretches for about 3 miles and the water was clear and very much suited for surfing with rolling waves. But it is still too cold without a wetsuit so Tom resisted the urge to go in with his boogie board. I mention clean beach because the biggest disappointment of the Chilean beaches is that they are not very clean. Apart from the beaches close to Santiago, the rest of them heading north are quite dirty with trash and debris from the tides which is not cleaned up regularly – if at all. After the sparklingly clean beaches of Brazil and Argentina, it is hard to get used to the trash and more disturbingly, the people don’t seem to care. Only in Antofagasta at the surf beach we stayed did we see people try to make a difference and pick up after themselves. We also checked our route into Bolivia. This will be the highest we will take the motorhome and at some of the passes including the one to the border we will be over 15,000 ft (2,800 meters). Also, the road is steep, winding and loaded with trucks, so it will make for an interesting journey to the border. We are also going to take it easy and slow. One reason is for us and Winston to acclimatize to the altitude and the other because of the motorhome. We plan on making the 100 mile to the border over a four day period with the first stop being before Putre at a posada (inn).

Route 5 to Arica.

Leaving Iquique we headed inland for the final stretch of route 5 to Arica, the most northern town in Chile. Driving east through the desert, there is an abundance of ghost towns; their deserted shells providing only glimpses of what were once homes and roads are eerie reminders of a time when this area was a booming nitrate mining region. The ghost town of Humberstone was designated an historical monument in 1970 and in 2005 a World Heritage Site and yet even this “town” is still only partially restored and is prone to vandalism and looting. Many of the buildings are decayed and crumbling and the small tourist center was closed when we were there although we could see the remains of the old narrow-gauge railway that used to take miners to another ghost town of Santa Laura about 2 mile away. From Pozo Almonte, we are on the Pan Americana Highway again – route 5 climbing the high antiplano areas of the Andes. The scenery is amazing as we climb steadily to about 6,000 feet before leveling off. And it does level off. The two lane road has a sheer drop into the ravine below. We did not know it but from this point until Arica the road fluctuates between 4,000 to 7,000 foot elevation with winding, hairpin turns, steep ascents and equally steep descents all with the road dropping off on our right. Just when we thought it could not get worse, we arrived in Cuya. This is another town which is a grim reminder of the defunct golden age of nitrate mining. For us it is memorable in that we were stuck here for four hours. Roadwork and from the booming we can here, dynamiting into the cliffs. We sit, we walk, we read, we eat, we are so bored! When the road finally opened, we found that they are not only repairing the road but completely rebuilding it. As a result for miles there is only one way dirt and gravel track which means we were still sitting for 15 minutes or more at a time waiting for the signalman to indicate it was our turn. This is the only road from north to south and the major truck route into both Peru and Bolivia so we have lots of company. We also pass over two cuestas (mountain passes) Cuesta de Camarones and Cuesta de Chaca which left our nerves jangling. An unpaved narrow access track not a real lane, high mountain elevations with death plunging steep drops to ravines 3,000 feet below and no guardrails. “If my mother were here she’d have her rosary out” Tom joked but even he admitted it was scary rounding the hairpin turns with only inches between us and a drop. “White-knuckle driving” comes to mind. To make matters worse, it is getting dark and we are still about 20 mile from Arica. We finally began to make our steep descent into the city, which is at sea level and breathe a sigh of relief. We pull in to the first large gas station we come to which has parking facilities. We know there is a campground somewhere towards the north edge of town but decide to wait to find it until morning. “We’ve done enough for today” Tom told me, “I need a beer!” Amen to that. What a day. This road may be finished sometime in the next 5 years or so, there is a lot of work to be done!