Red Hot Peppers (and other similar puns)

Friday 29 January
San Carlos de Bariloche, Argentina – Puerto Varas, Chile

The guy above me was snoring. He was a Brazilian who kept on trying to talk to me (during the day) but his English was as good as Stradivarius’s paintings and my Portuguese is as good as da Vinci’s violins so we never go very far. But he was certainly a very happy person. And unusually for a thin person, he was a snorer. Though only when lying on his back.

The first night he was snoring a bit but I woke him up and he turned over and that was it. The second night there was no problem. The third night, the night when I was most tired, was the worst. He wouldn’t stop snoring. I’d wake him up but he wouldn’t turn over and – given our lack of communication skills – I couldn’t tell him the simple yet elusive solution. I must have woken him up at least 20 times. I remember checking the time towards the end. It was 5.30. Luckily around then he did turn over and I at least got some sweet, precious sleep.

For lunch I go to the best steakhouse in town and it’s awesome. I’m a bit hungry anyway and the portions are large and the service quick. It’s easily the best meal I’ve had so far. I wolf it down and I’m in heaven. Tired and sated I head back and doze on the sofa in reception waiting for my bus.

On the bus I mainly doze. Eventually we reach the border. There’s no English here, only Spanish. I think I’m the only European on the bus. There’s a couple of Israelis but mainly it’s Chileans and Argentineans. We all bundle off the bus and into a room. Someone gives me a form to fill and my passport is stamped. I notice that I’ve left Argentina. But what about Chile? I ask the driver in broken English and in the torrent of Spanish that follows I hear the words “Chile” and “4 kilometres” which is enough to satisfy me.

At the Chilean border we’re all delayed as the customs guys go through the Israelis’ luggage as they have lots of food with them that they have to deal with. Why they can’t put it in the bin and get on with it I don’t know. Anyway after an eternity we’re away again.

They put on an awful film which even though I’m listening to music while watching it you can see all the clichés a mile off. There’s a twist at the end that is so implausible it ensures what little integrity it has is cleaned off with bleach and a blow torch.

After that I sleep for most of the rest of the way.

We get to Puerto Montt at about 11.30. There then follows another broken-Spanish-and-mime conversation as I try to explain that I need a cash machine to get Chilean Pesos out, luckily we get there in the end. I learn new vocab: cahier automatico. The cabbie doesn’t know where the address is but I manage to work it out for him. Makes you wonder.

The hostel is nice and the receptionist has waited for me. She gives me the key and leaves, only for me to find out that the key doesn’t work from the inside so I can’t get out and get any food, or, more importantly, beer. So cashew nuts it is and then it’s finally off to bed for a proper night’s sleep.