November 29, Day 42: Curicó to Rancagua
I didn't want to repeat yesterday's lunch problems so I headed to a pasteleria straight away. It wasn't actually a pasteleria, and didn't have anything I could take for lunch so I went to another. Closed. And the next just had sweets. Another didn't seem to exist any more. Yet another just had plain breadrolls. I think I visited about five places, all were a miss for one reason or another. So I made the effort, but I have to get on the road, so we're back to yesterday's plan: I'm sure I'll pass a nice pasteleria.
But all this excitement did mean I didn't retrace my path through Curicó.
The route into and out of town went over a particularly unlikeable bridge. It has sidewalks but they're narrow, and the traffic comes past close and fast. I worry about a pannier bumping on the balustrade and bouncing me off ... not a nice image. Yesterday night I rode across on an unwavering straight line, although I wasn't serious enough to check how much free space there was beside the pannier.
This morning the traffic was quieter and there was enough of a gap for me to go fast and use the road, instead of the sidewalk. I got up into the high gear, and was pushing hard, but still got caught by a red ute near the end. There was traffic in the other lane and no space to pass so he had to dawdle along at about 30km/h while I got to the end.
After that excitement I was in the countryside. The Andes are clearly visible, a long line of high mountains from north to south, growing up out of the flat plain I'm riding on. They're a long way away but they're not some details on the horizon getting obscured by trees, they're so big they're always visible. They’re a handy landmark, making it clear which way the route is going. And the bike routes are always twisted - can't be helped when it's having to stitch together a route from quiet rural roads.
I'm still looking out for something for lunch. There's a few roadside stalls selling completos (hotdogs) and things. A bit after 11 I see a sign for empanadas and I'm tempted enough to stop, but after a bit of indecision I keep going. I have second thoughts immediately, but not strong enough to do a U-turn. I keep a good look out and there's places selling honey, olive oil, lots and lots of places selling eggs. Nothing for lunch...
Just after 12 there's vindication: an eatery advertising homemade empanadas, with some shaded tables outside. I stop and have two. The empanadas had olives - but the stones had been removed! Olives with stones in empanadas seem to be a tradition, almost all of the ones I've had have stones. I've been eating them very carefully because I really, really don't want to crack another tooth.
From left to right: street art I liked. Andes views I passed. An empanada olive that isn’t trying to break my teeth.
The Ruta 90 comes up next: the route doesn't take the '90, but side roads that run roughly parallel. Except it has to keep switching sides. A sideroad goes for a kilometer, then I have to cross over and pick up another road on the other side. The crossing over means waiting for a safe gap in traffic which takes a while but I'm happy to wait, this part of the Ruta 90 has no shoulder and a lot of traffic.
There was some small drama in San Fernando. Komoot sent me down a gravel road, and I noticed there was a big and modern metal gate: it was open, but it looked like it was often closed. After a kilometer the gravel road rejoined the road: but there's a similar security gate here, there's no way through and no way to open it. I must have wandered into a small, exclusive and paranoid suburb with gates to keep people out. Unfortunately it's keeping me in! I could retrace my steps but there were twenty houses here, so I'll gamble that a car needs to come though soon. Sure enough a panel van drew up outside and opened the gate, and I could escape.
From there it's a long, nearly straight run north on a road beside the Ruta 5. Fairly direct, for a change. I stop at a minimarket and get a 1.5L bottle of cold juice: it's a hot day and everything in my drinks bag is warm.
The only way into Rancagua is a dual carriageway. It looks like a motorway but along it is a series of warehouses and other businesses, with a wide gravel strip so cars can get off the road and slow down. It's an industrial area so there's rubbish on the ground, fine grit from the gravel, broken concrete. I have to pick my way along, avoiding the occasional parked truck and ducking under the motorway signs.
From left to right: caught my reflection when I had a long wait at a streetlight. Trapped: nobody here wants this including me. One day I won’t be excited by cycleways but it’s not this day. Getting into Rancagua. Sunset from a hotel window; a bit rushed because the lift arrived.
After that it's bike lanes! They connect up, they don't change to the other side of the road unexpectedly, they're great. I misunderstand a direction and need to take three crossings to get over an intersection, but that's on me. But Komoot leads me to a pet shop and tells me we've arrived. That's not on me.
Not the first time Komoot's done something unhelpful. Google Maps is more reliable so I put the hotel address in. It takes me to a street with a mall. That's not helpful either. But the hotel is a high-rise, and I can recognize it from the picture in the email. It's not too far away, but it’s not clear where the main entrance is so I circle the block. Carpark exit, workers smoking, carpark entry, mall entrance, outdoor market, and I'm back where I started. I guess it's inside the mall? If they don’t allow dusty bikes in there they’ll have to chase me. The security guard waves me to the lift so I guess it's OK. The hotel is above the mall, and the lifts are shared so it takes a while before there's a lift with space for the bike. Did I mention I don’t like malls? This isn’t improving my opinion.
The hotel is a nice place though. The shower is hot and doesn't turn cold unexpectedly, luxury! I'm taking a rest day here and I’m already happy with that choice. Then on Sunday is the final ride to Santiago.
