Santiago – January 30th, 2015
Jan 30th, 2015 by rallyadmin
The last day of driving. And it’s less than 400 kms. But the route does cross the Andes and it is a border crossing. We pack the car and leave.
John hasn’t been able to confirm his plane reservation and he’s afraid that he’ll be stuck in Santiago. His fight is supposed to be just after midnight but he can’t seem to get any kind of confirmation. We need to get to the Santiago airport to see what he can do about his flght.
It’s early morning and there’s a thin overcast. Looking towards the mountains in the west, it looks like the high mountains may be lost in the clouds. That would be a shame since the route goes right by the Argentine Parc Nacional Aconcauga in which is the Cerro Aconcagua which, at nearly 7,000 meters (actually 6,962 meters which for you metrically-challenged out there is 22,841 feet) is the highest mountain in the world outside the Himalayas. We hope to see it but the overcast isn’t encouraging.
But we’re still quite a few kms from the pass through the mountains and we slowly climb away from Mendoza. The road to the border actually heads south before heading west and climbing into the mountains. As we drive, the sky starts to clear. There’s hope.
The road slowly goes through one canyon after another following the Rio Mendoza. Soon the river is moving quickly and we start to see signs for rafting trips. The water in the river is a dark, muddy brown – not the usual blue or gray that one usually sees coming from big mountains.
The abruptly the road starts to climb and soon we’re at the entrance to the parc. We park the car and buy our tickets. We can just see the south face of Aconcagua and though there are some clouds, we get occasional glimpses of the massive walls and hanging glaciers.
There’s an upper parking lot where we can leave the car and start our hikle into the valley that is the approach to the massive mountain. There’s a small breeze blowing up into a high valley that the forms the approach and the sun is very bright. We’re at close to 10,000 feet so we take to walking slowly.
The multicolored mountains that ring the bowl are almost as impressive as Aconcagua itself. Browns, greens, grays, and whites. This must be unbelievable in the winter on a clear day. Assuming you can get up the road in winter.
We take our pictures and just marvel at the beauty and quiet of the valley. A few more shots of the South Face and the clouds start to envelope the summit. Back to the car.
The road continues to climb and the road gets even more spectacular. There isn’t that much traffic so we are hoping that we won’t spend too much time at customs. Up and through a small town that is the turn off for the road to the Christ the Redeemer statue that much higher up a dirt road that must end at more than 12,000 feet.
We turn a corner and climb up a steep grade and there’s Argentine customs. We follow the signs for autos and get led to the exit of the customs building. We finally decide that we are in the wrong place. Again. This appears to be another combined Chilean/Argentine customs facility and this is the exit of the Argentine facility. We back out, turn around, head back to the main road and continue towards Chile.
We see one last “Les Malvinas son Argentina”, a reference to the newly revived Argentine claim that the islands that the British hold, fought a war with Argentina to keep and call the Falkland Islands and the Argentines covet, vow to recover and call Las Malvinas. The signs are everywhere in Argentina, a virtual indoctrination campaign.
The economy in Argentina is in the dumps as it was when the invaded the Falklands and precipitated the war with Britain. Whenever things domestically get lousy, the Argentine leader du jour tries to distract the public with some international misadventure.
They want the world to declare Las Malvinas Argentine and give them sovereignty over the fishing grounds and newly discovered off-shore oilfields. Now there’s a surprise. They want the islands taken from Britain AND coincidentally there’s oil under them thar waves. Who’d have thunk it?
At any rate, we pass the last sign and enter the International Tunnel and cross into Chile about halfway through the two lane tunnel. It’s a long tunnel and we creep along at about 20 kph due to a very slow truck at the head of the line. We come out into the extremely bright sunshine, drive a few hundred meters and pull into the west-bound customs facility which is situated right next to the ski resort of Portillo, for many years the only real ski area in the Andes.
And we pull into a very long line, one of 4 lines that do not appear to be moving. An Argentine customs officer is walking among the cars giving out both Chilean and Argentine forms. There’s not much traffic here and the buses and trucks go to still another facility but the lines still aren’t moving. I’m not so sure about this combined customs experiment. This is our second try at one and they are both very slow.
It takes about an hour to finally move up in the line. I get out of the car and take the documents to a little house right next to the car. Hand the docs through a slot in the nearly closed window and answer all questions with, “No eniendo espagnol.” That usually stops the questions. I learned that from Clemo.
I finally see a bit through the darkened window glass which I assume is there not for security but to prevent the customs officers inside from baking in the brilliant sunlight here at nearly 12,000 feet. There are actually two officers in this side of the little building, apparently one Argentine for Argentine exit customs and a Chilean for Chilean entry customs.
We get the documents back and move the car to step 2 (it’s always a 3 step process – we learned that in Turkey years ago. “It’s a 3 step process. To be continued.”) The Argentine aduana searching the car on exit asks where the stamp is for the rental car for the Argentine exit aduana. There is none. We play dumb (which, right now, is our only option.) He takes me and the paperwork to a different Argentine customs officer in another small building and he stamps and we’re on our way to step 3.
Which as usual is a bit confused. But we finally get clear and head down the hill away from the customs area to get organized and start the trip again.
And get a look at the descent on the western side of the Andes. The first sign we see is Curva 29 which implies 28 more switchback to the bottom. We look over the edge and the road looks like the switchbacks on the Transfagarasan Pass in Romania. Wrong country. Wrong continent. But it looks like the right road.
The road down is even more spectacular than the road up to the pass. The mountains are beautiful and the road rapidly descends away from the switchbacks through connected slot canyons with a river roaring over the boulders at the bottom. We pass the spot where we were stopped in 2013 when this same passed was closed for a snowstorm in the middle of April.
The road levels out just as we get to Los Andes and we turn left onto the autstrada for the short drive to Santiago. It’s a beautiful day here and the temps are up in the 90’s. There’s not much traffic and we soon get to the airport.
I have to return the car to Hertz with the gas tank full so we stop at a gas station on the airport to fill up. We pull over in their parking lot to straighten out the car, throw out the trash and pack so that we can leave the car and walk with our bags over to the hotel in front of the terminal.
We pull into the cramped Hertz lot and take out our bags. The Hertz staff goes over the car with a fine tooth comb. They immediately notice the cracked windshield and then the fact that the spare is on the car and the wheel that was on the car is in the spare position. They don’t miss much if anything. They chat with the desk for a few minutes and then tell us to stop at the desk with the contract for a receipt.
We shlep over to he Hertz desk in the terminal and the first thing out of the counter clerk (who happens to be Christian, the clerk who gave us the wrong permit for the car we had in Talca), “Did you file a report with the police after the windshield was broken?” “No.” “You should have.” “We don’t do that in America.” “You must have a police report for the insurance company.” “You must be kidding.” “No.”
Then he tells me that we may have to pay for the flat tire. Both John and I jump on him at the same time. The tire we fixed had a tiny pinhole leak that came with the car but we stopped and fixed it. The tire on the car is not flat. He rapidly retreats and says that that is no a problem.
There is the problem of the missing police report for the windshield. We’re both having trouble getting our heads around that one. The police must just love that little insurance requirement. But they will bring me to the police station on the airport to file the report and the man will stay with me to bring me and the report back.
We leave our bags at the Hertz counter and head back to the rental lot. Before we leave the building, we decide that only I should go and John should stay and try to get his flight straightened out. Besides, not knowing any Spanish might help.
Into the 4-Runner again and over to the police station which is literally on a few hundred meters from the lot. We walk in. Everyone says hello (this has obviously happened before.) I’m hoping that someone here speaks English and we don’t have a repeat of the Talca 3 hour broken window report.
Fortunately, the ranking officer does speak English and when he looks at my driver;s license and sees that I’m from South Carolina, he announces how much he likes Raleigh, North Carolina. He was there once and likes country and western music and the beer in Raleigh. Apparently, he had a great time there and wants to go back without his wife. Hmmm.
A few questions about what happened to the windshield. What: a rock was thrown off the ground by a truck coming in the opposite direction, hit the windshield and caused the crack. When: on Monday, I think. Where: north of Rio Gallegos in southern Argentina on Ruta 3. About what time: 10AM. Okay, thank you. That’s all.
He prints the accident report and hands it to me with my passport and driver’s license. He wishes me a safe journey home. I thank him. “Da nada.” I walkj out somewhat stunned that the process went so smoothly and so quickly.
Back to the Hertz counter. Had Christian the report. He asks if we have an accident report got the Rav4 incident in Talca. I tell him that he has the number and that we called him that night with the number and that the police said that we don’t need the report, just the report number. He sheepishly asks John for the number again.
He makes some copies and finally has me sign the credit card slip. We’re done. Finally. We retrieve our bags and head for the hotel.
Check in. They have late checkout at 6PM (hooray.) We move into the room. John leaves to continue to work on his flight which still hasn’t been confirmed.
Later, we have a couple of very good cheeseburgers and beers and call it a night. For the day and the trip.
Obi-wan