Monday, 7 October 2024

Flying further south

I rise around nine. And go for breakfast straight away. Without even brushing my teeth. I'll do that after I've eaten.

A breakfast of two fried eggs, bread, orange juice and coffee

Two fried eggs again. That does me very nicely. Along with a bread. Which I can't be arsed to toast. And orange juice and coffee, obviously. Especially the latter. I need a good wakening up.

After eating, I don't get to laze around in my room for long. As checkout is at eleven.

An Uber has me in the airport by 11:30. Which leaves me quite a while hanging around, as my flight isn't until 15:15.

Once airside, I have to wait around until 90 minutes before my flight before the gate is announced. In an area that’s being rebuilt and there’s fuck all. Other than a café/bakery type thing. I grab myself a coffee and start typing up yesterday.

My flight is delayed. I message Camilo, who’s collecting me at Temuco airport, to let him know I’ll be late.

Finally, my gate is announced. Of course, it’s at the end of a long pier. I trundle along it trundling my bag behind me. Oh look, there’s a little café next to my gate. With beer taps. And what’s that bottle I spot behind the bar?

“Un Havana Club, por favor.”

I don’t understand the reply exactly, but I get the gist, No alcohol. I console myself with a diet cola. And flip out my flaptop.

Once my flight starts boarding, I head to the priority queue. Old folk like me shouldn’t be kept standing for too long.

The flight is totally full. And the legroom is crap. But it's only an hour. Thankfully. Any longer would be pure torture.

Temuco airport is tiny and modern. Just how I like my airports. As I’m waiting for my bag, I look around to see if I can spot Camilo. No luck. But there is someone holding a sign saying “Ronald Pattinson”.

It’s Luis Castro and Camilo Rodriguez. Neither speaks English. They communicate with me using a phone. Surprisingly effectively.

Inside Biergarten Klein

We drop by the hotel to dump my bags. Then, with scarcely time to draw breath, it's off to Biergarten Klein. Where another Camilo, Klein, is waiting for me. The owner.

I start with an IPA. Along with a taster of a beer brewed with the Patagonian lager yeast.

“Would you like something to eat, Ron?” Camilo asks and mentions some of the options.

“Ceviche, please.” Tasty and not too heavy. And it goes well with the IPA.

Ceviche, toast and IPA

I follow it with two pisco sours: Peruvian then Chilean. Pisco sour is like ceviche: you really can’t go wrong with it.

Camilo makes his own gin. He gives me three different ones to try. Quite large measures, but I’m not complaining. London Dry gin was one of the three. And my favourite. I like it so much, I get another one.

I’m sure Camilo looks familiar. But I meet so many people on my travels. It’s impossible remember everyone. Then he says he thinks we met in Blumenau in 2020. Indeed, we did. We had a barbecue meal with Stephen Beaumont. A very memorable meal, where Camilo acted as translator.

Three glasses of gin,.

He’s a very energetic chap, Camilo. With lots of ideas. Beer. Gin. Now he wants to grow hops. And make whisky.

I drink more gin. With the beer garden’s own tonic, I think it was with tonic. Things are getting blurry around the edges. Am I entering a time abnormality?

I'm feeling a bit wobbly at the end. It's pissing it down as we leave and the ground is very uneven. I’m sure that’s why I need some support. Not that my legs are totally numb.

That must have been some time abnormality. Because several hours have disappeared. What over explanation could there be?

I collapse into bed without even a whisky nightcap.



Biergarten Klein
Los Ganaderos 03326,
4811829 Temuco,
Araucanía.
http://www.klein.cl/
 


Disclaimer: The First International Araucania Cervercera Congress paid for my flights and for my hotel in Temuco, along with food and drink. 

 

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