Post-Santiago in Chile

After leaving Tiago, we started adapting to the road for the first week and creating certain routines along the way. We met the first relentless slope when we looked towards noon to find a shadow in the midday heat, chased the place for the tent towards the evening, slowly gliding down the quiet road after the light hills. It doesn't end, I think we're going to Everest. It's not like there's 200 300m or no slopes, but I'm thinking in the middle of the slope, the slope of it, whether we're going up stairs. In the middle of the slope where we stopped to rest, I understand that we had come 20 to 30 km, which was a calm, slight descent slope up to that hill. We're going to pitch a tent on the descent of the slope like this, and one day we're going to stay, and I'm looking at the same place to stay.

I can think of the Peñaflorun cemetery we left behind. I'm going to go to my dad's here to let us rest, a park where we walk in with two or two documents and then we realize it's a cemetery. Parque del Recuerdo Padre Hurtado. I'm going to add the photos, and I'm starting to have a little reason. It's so neat in a cemetery. And it was arranged like a magnificent farm, and cook made me happy and started to distract me with a lot of questions. He reminded me of the farm belonging to the Agriculture Directorate, where I stayed in Polatli for 4 and 5 years during the first school term.

Now we go down the hill with a thousand excitements, carefully and slowly, but I can't tell you how happy it is. I find out from the market that a small town called Los Patos has a public swimming pool. When I say where we can pitch a tent, I suddenly find myself pitching a tent in a picnic area with a free pool. I'm thinking about taking a little swim in the morning and then we're going to leave, and I'm thinking about tidying up the route. In our heads, we go down to the realms away from the highway, climb the mountains close to the main road and go back to the real ones and reach the surroundings of Osorno. Şimdi can havliyle çıktığımız yokuşu bin bir heyecanla bir o kadarda dikkatli ve yavaşça iniyoruz ama nasil bir mutlulukla anlatamam. Los patos diye bir küçük kasabanın halka açık yüzme havuzu olduğunu öğreniyorum marketten. Nerelerde çadır kurabiliriz derken bir anda kendimi ücretsiz havuzlu bir piknik alanında çadır kurarken buluyorum. Sabah yola da ufak bir yüz eden sonra çıkarız diye geçiriyorum aklımdan ve rotayı toparlamaya koyuluyor aklim. Kafamızda anayoldan uzakta sahilere inip ordan ana yola yakin daglara tırmanıp tekrar sahilere inerek Osorno cevresine kadar ulaşmak.

Now we go down the hill with a thousand excitements, carefully and slowly, but I can't tell you how happy it is. I find out from the market that a small town called Los Patos has a public swimming pool. When I say where we can pitch a tent, I suddenly find myself pitching a tent in a picnic area with a free pool. I'm thinking about taking a little swim in the morning and then we're going to leave, and I'm thinking about tidying up the route. In our heads, we go down to the realms away from the highway, climb the mountains close to the main road and go back to the real ones and reach the surroundings of Osorno.

I worked in a warehouse in the Estación Central district of Santiago, where there was a lot of activity during the winter periods of nearly a year and a half. Maybe in a warehouse in the backyard of a street with a crowd of people in the density of the closed bazaar in Istanbul. Everyone sells everything on the road and they pick up a bundle of cloth when they see the police. Density Chinese products, second hand or stolen goods. The floor is garbage, dog excrement. This is the smell of oil used on the third day, the scenes of the robbery that are in your eyes. When you drive 4.5km down the same street, the crowds of people are sparse and you can see a few parks, trees arranged around you, some clean roads and a republic building. The famous building that was called Salvador Allende's house with a dramatic joke and always gave me sadness. This is more of a historical area where the city's business centers, banks, the big city market established near it and people living in the middle class continue their lives. Much larger parks, cleaner, glass plazas towards the end of the same street, less frequent but again, a crowd in suits running around here and there. Some complain that their coffee is warmer, some complain that the sun is too hot today or the weather is colder. In essence, you can see very clearly the reality of Chile on a street in Santigo. The class and income gap is significantly greater. It's like a vortex where too many people have to fight for their lives, and a lot of people are bored with what to do with life. Capitalism, which I feel deeply in Santigo, is not my business, for better or worse, but a city hit the ceiling with its harshest intensity, even the desire to break the ceiling and overflow. At some point, this erupts, and the people begin to attack the state and all its means, whatever exploits it, with an appetite for anarchism. I think it's been done in the softest way possible. Stretching, a few police, state or private sector buildings are sacrificed, slowly calming the public down and a thousand flips for the new constitution begins. As far as I know now, a Maphuce native seeking his rights in chile was elected to head the delegation that would regulate the constitution. That's why we're running into burned vehicles on the roads, companies burning plazas, protests, gas bombs and street battles in crowded settlements. We're trying to make our way through this turmoil.

We'll rest in San Antonia, then we'll be back on the road in a day or two, trying to get down the coast to Tacna. It is a small town like Pichilemu that welcomes tourists with surf waves and disturbs the locals with factory pollution.