Monday

I’ve run out of things to say. Except. 

THE RADIATOR ARRIVES TODAY. 

They say. 

Rusty expressed boundless excitement at the news. 

Fingers still crossed. 

The Toyota Hilux pickup truck, above, sold everywhere in Latin America. Diesel, manual gearbox, crude and tough and does not pass safety requirements for US sales. Probably doesn’t have enough cup holders either for fussy US drivers. The ideal overland vehicle with a decent camper shell I think, especially for youngsters looking for Instagram worthy dirt roads. 

Waiting

It’s been a week, not long in the grand scheme of things but we have a routine. 

Rusty starts his day with a walk with his favorite human.  His favorite human then washes the dishes while his second favorite human sleeps in. 

Hot tea and cold oatmeal in the style of Webb Chiles, a warm shower, a book after checking the headlines for more human frailty around the world. 

The campground is vast and Rusty has it to himself so he’s happy. 

You can rent a cottage for about $70 a night and two of them are occupied this weekend. 

The workers are shutting down the pool, putting away the chaise longues as winter closes in. 

I saw a movie years ago, an inconsequential thing that stuck with me called RUBY IN PARADISE, about a young woman who escapes to the redneck riviera, the Florida Panhandle where she starts a new independent life. It’s a moody film with not a lot of plot but it captures the off season in a beach town. Bahia Inglesa in the Fall puts me in mind of that little film. 

The family spent a night grilling meat and tossing a football. The campground truck gave their Chinese SUV a jump Saturday morning as they packed and left. We stay here, helpless, not uncomfortable. 

People come and go. South Americans camp elaborately, picnics with table cloths, grills with fire and embers and lengthy cooking times, tents, windbreaks, furniture, complex set ups. And in twenty four hours they’re gone. 

We will still be here. It’s okay. 

The radiator replacement should be a simple repair for a mechanic. I try not to think of all that could go wrong. 

I follow Rusty, he lives in the moment. 

There’s a big hole under the hood. 

But we are at home. For perhaps another week, maybe less. I hope not more than that. 

A new week unfolds. May you have less uncertainty than us. 

Tarquin

They told him there was an American couple in the campground when he rode in. Then he met us. He had a bottle of whisky though so all was not lost. 

31 years old and he gave up a life in finance in London, sold everything he had and took off for South America. His family had a foot in Spain and he spent several years there so he speaks the local language here. In Santiago he bought a motorcycle and is riding to Colombia on his Honda 250.  

He went to a school in England not unlike the school I went to to so we had that in common, the old boy network.  Encountered here in Chile and on his way as we wait for our radiator. 

Konstantin and Julia in Santiago are trying to get their Sprinter van onto a ship for Seattle and may have a date in the last week in May. 

We may be out of here before then. Apparently our new radiator is in Chile and is on its way north from Santiago. I’m trying not to get my hopes up.  

Meanwhile we walk and read and watch stories on our iPad which we use for a television. Time passes but not as slowly as you might think. 

Another Day

Just a note on Friday morning:  no earthquake in northern Chile. The first we heard was someone asking if we were okay. We’re great: the new radiator is being shipped from Santiago to Caldera today according to the mechanic. No idea when it might arrive yet. But earthquakes? Nothing. 

Another sunny day at Camp Lost. 

Rusty was having none of it. No walk to the beach today. He sat just outside the campground gate and stared at me. Disapprovingly. 

May Day is a national holiday in Chile so we were not alone, a family gathering, some hard core tent campers in the cold sand and us. 

Rusty wanted to walk the campground. So we walked the campground. 

I sat in the sun and read a book recommended by Webb. LAWRENCE IN ARABIA. It’s a history of the fall of the Ottoman Enpire and the creation of the Middle East mess. Everyone has heard of TE Lawrence, the one of Arabia but this book also looks at three contemporaries busy sticking their fingers in the pie dividing up Palestine. 

There’s the German with a speech impediment, the Jewish agronomist bringing back farming to the desert and the man from Yale, an American seeking petroleum for Standard Oil. 

The various elements have my curiosity perked up so that should help pass the time as we wait for our new radiator. 

Rusty found something to pique his interest in the sand. 

It was probably disgusting but I kept my distance. A discarded picnic bone maybe or left over fish. Whatever it was he had his usual full dinner with his usual full appetite. 

He only likes to eat once a day in the evening. I give him a few cookies in the mornings and if he doesn’t finish his dinner we leave it out for him overnight in case he wants a midnight snack. Rusty knows what he wants and this is how he tells us he’s hungry: 

Tomorrow we meet Tarquin. A new face.