Sorry, for this article, I had to write it fast, and have no time for translation. So this is an automatic translation. I hope it s understandable...
The day had started in a very quiet and does not predict such a fall into hell.
10 hours, breakfast at Rio Grande, Tierra del Fuego. I explain to the couple Holanda with whom I share my table that I am going back on the mainland, but taking the ferry making the crossing in 2 hours and a half, not one who makes it in 30 minutes, as the outward , just to discover something else, then it's more direct to go to Punta Arenas. They warn me that the ferry does rotations about once a day and never at the same time.
Before hitting the road, a look on the internet and in fact, not only is it once a day but that day, there is no crossing altogether. I'll take the classic route to get back on the mainland.
100km of road on the part of Argentina's Tierra del Fuego, and I find myself at the Chilean border. Time to complete the forms I see on TV news Chilean showing barricades and lights ... In Punta Arenas, a priori it was heated tonight! It may look like a galley, but I do not care much for that kind of thing is always located at an avenue, and it will just avoid mingling with crowds.
I leave her alone for 100km of track to reach the Chilean ferry across and go to the mainland. Here, the last time there was a truck and two cars, and this time it's hundreds of cars queuing! I enjoy being on a motorcycle back to the line that never stops and arrive at the dock ... that is blocked by protesters this morning. Unable to move from Tierra del Fuego to the continent, not a city to stage a Chilean or close either.
Although I rarely share ideas, almost never talk, I still have much sympathy for anarcho-syndicalists.
It may look like a galley, yet sincere in my head, I said to myself "nice, something unexpected, it's going to be animation." Is that even in the worst case, if I could not make the crossing, I can still pitch your tent on the beach. I still have a packet of pasta, I always find a little water, so it really does not pose any problem.
The only thing that bothers me is that the reserve was already seeing lights from 50km. My consolation is especially high gasoline, so there is no apparent leak or smell gas, and then I will not be able to reach Punta Arenas, 170km, next site with gasoline .
It might seem like a nightmare, but on the contrary, the queue of cars is a great opportunity to tour the Meals on, touch, and ask drivers if they have a hose to siphon tank generous donor.
The hose and the donor found, you realize that cars are now equipped with systems to avoid being siphoned. Well, here I am looking for a jerry can of petrol this time. With my empty bottle in one hand and the other full of optimism, I continue to go up the lane on foot, by joking with the drivers that will not stop me passing back and forth, until that I Tapotte shoulder. A driver told me he has a jerry can of gasoline in his trunk and agree that I should take him a few pints ... 3 liters should be sufficient. Thank you amigo!
Shortly after, we learn that the situation is expected to unlock, and the ferry will pick us up at 18.30. Finally from 19h, it loads the first cars and buses on the ferry, with a little room for the bike.;)
The crossing allows me to equip myself against the rain as the first drops come. It might seem like a nightmare, but actually I am very happy to arrive on the continent.
But 50km further ... my fuel light comes on again. Carramba! I really consumes a lot of fuel and added my 3 liters will not allow me to get to your destination. The road is deserted. I figure at worst when I will have no juice, I pitched the tent beside the road, and the next day I'll stop in search of gasoline. There is no sewage service indicated in the GPS, there is not on my map. Logically, I'll fall down to about 50km from the city, where there is a big spur. The rain is falling steadily now, and also the night. It's cold. Here, it looks like a galley ahead.
Approaching the famous crossroads, happy to be at least got there through the dark night, I spot lights on the right, and I tell myself that even if the tent, as well do it where there is a housing. Well it was not a home ... but a gas station!
The attendant starts to pour a few liters, and I stopped him urgently: "I have no Chilean pesos to pay!". Fortunately it will accept pesos. Phew.
Lighter heart, I take the road not even feel the rain beating my face, so I'm happy to arrive.
A host committee is also there: a truck across the road. Y is there an accident due to rain? Still, with this truck, a car can not pass. There are lots of lights behind the truck, probably relief package to address the accident. I shudder when I sneak, but eventually the mood on the other side is pretty good, kids: this is not an accident, but a makeshift dam, with a barricade of burning tires to Surely a warm up ... rest of the events seen on television when I passed the border.
I spend quietly, without one tells me anything, happy to finally be in town. Except that I fall on a second dam. It may look like a galley ... Here they seem much more determined, and obviously getting ready to spend the night here in the rain. I hesitate, I ride on a sidewalk to pass through the side of the barricade. A guy is just in the middle of the sidewalk and he looks at me strangely. I stop to ask what is happening. He told me it was because of rising gas prices they show. I wish him good luck and enjoy that he came next to me (and not in front of the bike) to advance and pass the dam, while he himself makes me finally waved through.
23h. I arrived in the rain at the pension Independancia, warmly recommended by 3 French who have just made a similar trip on a motorcycle . The boss is actually very friendly and remembers very well the 3 French, but ... it is complete. Possibly there is a big puddle on the lawn on which I could pitch our tent. It might look like ...
He tells me another pension 200m away. I knock on the door. This is the window that opens, and a little old lady asked me what I want. "I want a bed!". A priori, we will not ask for a pension in a tax reduction or breast implants, but good. She is bothered because there are already 2 big cars and it will be difficult to return the bike. Given the atmosphere of the barricades, I tell myself it might be better not to leave the bike on the sidewalk that night. So I turn the suitcases and I'll stick against his car. It does not please him too much, grandma, grandpa, so helps me put the bike on the flowerbed ... and here I am finally dry, warm, secure.
I do not know why, this grandma is not really nice, but it pleases me well. The place is quite murky, frankly, but I am alone in a small room with two, which allows me to dry my business. The bathroom smells musty mix and toothpaste, and yet, without knowing why, I say "I feel I'll feel good here."
What I did not know is that the blockade of the city would last. As I write these lines, this is my third day here. Unable to leave or enter the city. It's the same for all other major cities in southern Chile.
Day , cars roam the streets with black flags honking. At night, military helicopters flew over the city returned to calm. What is surprising is the unanimity of the population. Everyone or almost has his little black flag. So, it's finally quiet, because there is no dispute. The determination is important.
Yesterday I took the opportunity to make a laundry, get a haircut and do some shopping in the supermarket no longer stocked. I did well because all the shops are closed today in protest. I found a chance to write you this e these few lines!
As always in these cases, when the quality of information is paramount, but there is so much emotion that it finally becomes less reliable. When I ask how much gas is rising against whom they fight, the answer ranges from 17% to 100%. The truth is probably somewhere between the two.
Hey, I read just now that ministers have just resign ! It will perhaps unlock things!
Go to support the rebelion popullaire;), I take this blog to disseminate their slogan: NO AL ALZA GAS
Amazing how when you have time, nothing is serious. All this could be a gallery but is not at all for me!
Nicolas Bouvier, in "the use of the world", writes something like "When you travel, you must learn to ignore all the luxuries, but the most important: having time"