A couple of locals, probably on their way to work stopped at the parking lot yesterday morning, where we had spent a very peaceful night. Other than that we saw nobody even though we heard traffic coming and going from the Arica airport, a couple of miles inside the border with Peru.
Rusty got his walk of course down the road leading to the airport past the welcome sign in stainless steel.
We went into town where border fever gripped us, or would have if Layne hadn’t put her foot down. This was our last supermarket shop in Chile, land of first world conveniences and nostalgia shopping. Peru has perfectly adequate Vea supermarkets but they aren’t Walmart! This far from home the absurdity of corporate shopping translates into clingy nostalgia. I admit it. Oh and then we had to meet Khoi.
We’ve crossed paths online for months, him with his Promaster and us with ours.
He travels solo not necessarily by choice but a happier nomad I have yet to meet. He really likes life on the road after a life of high tech type A stress. He sent us this selfie from his famous selfie stick:
He lived in Toronto where his Vietnamese family emigrated and he has the world’s best sense of humor. Funnily enough he didn’t like our favorite country Colombia. And he has a point, the food isn’t great and the wilderness isn’t as accessible as other countries.
I put his sense of humor to the test and I didnt’t spare him and I realized as he gave me his left over steak I want, perhaps need, to see him down the road again. You don’t meet too many people who have changed their lives with as much joy and purpose. Retiring early has left room in his brain to teach himself the guitar, to surf, and to speak Spanish. Another selfie:
And by the way the shellfish soup at the Super Agro market was outstanding.
There was so much to talk about and so little time. He’s going to leave his Promaster in Chile for the winter and spend summer in Canada -both seasons happen at once when you cross the equator.
We talked and we parted. I expect we’ll see him in Nomvebervor December next year when we are back in Argentina after our Brazilian travels, I hope. Meanwhile I had an Unerctontakecto an Internet café; remember those where you rent a computer and get to print out forms.
I spent half an hour filling out state department form DS 82 to review my passport and I sent a request for an appointment next week to drop it off at the Consulate in Cusco. The turn around time is six weeks so we will be stationary for a while before we are free to continue to Brazil.
Then I walked a bit in the pretty part of Arica and called for an Uber to take me back to Layne and Rusty. I much prefer Uber to local taxis. I’ve tried to support taxis but they tend to overcharge and I’ve had some unpleasant interactions as they present me with sob stories and so forth. Uber is so much more impersonal and I like it. I’ve actually become quite proficient with it. Amazing.
We were scheduled to pick up laundry at five yesterday afternoon. When we had been struggling to locate Khoi for lunch we cane across a laundry and without much hope Layne asked how quickly they could turn a load around.
“By 5pm if it’s only clothes” they told an astonished Layne at noon. Okay then.
So Layne took a nap and I read sprawled on the front seats waiting for five pm.
We were parked on a side street in front of the market where we had lunch with Khoi, about five minutes from the laundry. Rusty wasn’t in the mood to walk so he sat on the floor with the side door open watching kids get out of school and they oohed and aahed over him, so it was good for his ego.
And then a man in a pink shirt stopped and leaned against he light pole and minded and gasped. I had to ask if he was okay and he said he was dizzy, overcome by heat. I offered to give him a ride as he didn’t seem to have sense enough to call an Uber, even though he was German and therefore stereotypically should have been sensible…he was surprised I offered him a ride but he took it.
He directed me to his hotel and as we went he told me he had been two months traveling South America and had rented a camper van when he arrived here (the black Chevy 400 below with the advertising on it). He was rather overbearing and unpleasant and not too fond of dogs which is always a black mark in my book. I asked his name when he got out but he refused so I’m calling him Rolf. We shook hands but his name I do not know.
And that was that. Seven of the oddest minutes of my week. I’m n to laundry.
Ten bucks for our bag of clothes and that was our last transaction in Chile.
I hate leaving this country and I look forward to our return next year. It’s the nature of being a nomad of course but were it not winter down south I could stay longer.
This is the land of eternal summer but we want to enjoy Brazil in dry season so we have to move. The border complex is a couple of miles away across the desert:
As you read this I hope we will be having a smooth crossing back to Peru. Saturday we want to be camped in Arequipa and Tuesday I want to be on a plane to the consulate in Cusco to start my passport renewal. I am a busy man with a plan. Lots of juggling to do.
