On Two Wheels – At Last!

Let me start by saying I had absolutely no prior experience with international shipping. My naïvety in that regard has been a contributing factor to the frustrations we have faced.

We arrived in Santiago on a Sunday. The motorcycles had arrived in the nearby port of San Antonio, two days before. However, we were told we would have to wait until Wednesday to pick them up. Fair enough, the port handles thousands of tons of cargo everyday and our little shipment wasn’t their highest priority.

We showed up at the freight terminal Wednesday morning, bright eyed and bushy tailed, ready to unpack the bikes, sign some papers and ride away. The first two parts of that went fine. Then we were told we owed almost $700 each in ‘extra charges’. Holy &#@%!!

There was a flurry of phone calls and emails back and forth to our agent in Canada, the shipping company and various offices in Chile. The whole thing was supposed to be prepaid, from beginning to end. Dave sensed that it was hopeless. I dug my heals in. (Those of you who know me may be familiar with a certain streak of self-righteous stubbornness). We spent the day sitting around waiting for a solution that never came.

In the end, the freight terminal had us hostage and they knew it. Day light was fading and the freight yard was about to close. We paid and rode away. I was in a foul mood and I made sure that everyone around me knew it. (Sorry about that 🙄).

Let me say clearly that I think this is a characteristic of ports in general and not something peculiar to Chile, or Latin America. The same thing could just as easily happen in Montreal, New Jersey or Rotterdam.

We left Santiago the next morning, heading north up Ruta 5. The city fell behind, replaced by orchards, fields and pastures.

The road was good, the T700 purred reassuringly and the wind rushed around me. I saw this sign on the side of the highway – a lumpy depiction of North and South America and the words “Via Panam”.

It was like a slap in the face. I was riding the Pan-American Highway! After 50 years, it was really happening! I was overcome by a wave of pure joy. I started laughing out loud inside my helmet.

The world hadn’t changed one iota. My wallet was still a lot lighter, and none of the other problems we had faced had disappeared. The only thing that had changed was me – my attitude – a bit of willingness to accept things that were beyond my control. There are a lot of clichés that apply, but the one I like is, “you can be right, or you can be happy”. It was time to choose being happy.

We rode north toward La Serena, a beach resort six hours from Santiago. The landscape faded from green to brown as we entered the Atacama Desert, the driest non-polar desert on Earth. There are places north of La Serena where it has not rained in over 500 years. La Serena itself, is like a mini version of Miami Beach. The beachfront is lined with high-rise condos and hotels, interspersed with restaurants, surf shops and the like. But the sunsets over the Pacific – mmm.

Percy the penguin, particularly enjoyed the view from our balcony. (We came across Percy on our trip to Antarctica in 2000. He’s been our travel mascot ever since).

Dave and I took the opportunity to do a little work on the bikes, attaching a few items that had been removed for crating and fixing some wiring on Dave’s bike that had been damaged in shipping.

From La Serena we traveled further north to the little town of Taltal. Taltal is a little off the beaten track, and less touristy. It’s a working town, dependent on the local mines and a small fishing fleet to sustain it. Still it has a nice beach, a lovely town square. Dave and I took the opportunity to have rip up the winding coastal road. Now that’s what it’s all about!

Taltal is also where we decided to go our separate ways.

Dave and Anne drove Liz up to Antofagasta, an industrial port, and Chile’s second largest city. I followed behind. Antofagasta is definitely grimier than Santiago, but has beautiful street art. It seems this is a common characteristic of Chile.

Dave and Anne turned around and headed back to the green south. Liz and I have been holed up for the past week in Antofagasta trying to get healthy. Liz in particular has been plagued with a series of sinus, cough and intestinal bugs. At least it’s not Covid. Spending a week visiting doctors and lying in bed is not what we’d planned on, but we’re both getting better.

Tomorrow (Sat. Nov. 19), it’s back on the T700 for the 2,600 km ride to Puerto Montt. Liz will fly down in a few days and rendezvous with me.