Flying North?

There's no rush today. We don't need to leave until midday. I get up around 8:30. Feeling a little on the rough side. A bit too much fun yesterday. And gin, I fear.

Sandy, Paddy and Sue are already eating when I get downstairs. I eat some scrambled egg and drink some tea. Then Chris arrives. Still looking tired.

A breakfast of cheese, toast and tea.

After breakfast I go back up to my room to type up the last two days. Not so much of a view today, as it's cloudy. Then it starts to rain.

When I've got everything typed up, I quickly run through my emails. I notice one from Sky and open it up to see if it's a check in reminder for tomorrow.

I don't really understand what it says. But I notice the time of the flight is different. Looking a little more closely, I notice the date is different, too. It's for Tuesday. And my flight back to Amsterdam is on Monday. Fuck.

I take my laptop downstairs and show it to Chris. It seems the bastards have changed my flight on me. Fuck, fuck, fuck.

"Come into the airport with me and I'll speak to the Sky people." Chris suggests.

The rain is falling heavily as we snake our way down the valley. Spoiling the view of the mountains. The fields are sodden, dotted with melancholy sheep and cattle. Clouds obscure the volcanoes.

When we pull up at the airport, Camilo is just dropping off Markus, who's on the same flight as Chris. Markus checks in as Chris talks to one of the Sky agents for me.

It seems my flight tomorrow has been cancelled. That's why I was rebooked. Chris suggests that I get my flight changed to be the same as his.

"That's fine. I just want to make sure I get to Santiago in time for my Amsterdam flight. Booking a hotel in Santiago shouldn't be a problem."

After ten minutes or so of messing around, the agent rebooks me and checks me in. That's a relief. I have a boarding pass. I will make it to Santiago in time.

As we sit drinking a coffee airside, Chris phones the hotel I'm booked into tomorrow to see if they have a room for me tonight. Luckily, they do.

A rainy runway from the window of my plane.

Bags retrieved in Santiago, we jump into an Uber and head into town. Markus is staying quite close to me. We arrange to meet a little later at the Independent Republic of Pisco. Which, as it turns out, is just 50 metres from my hotel. Now there’s handy.

It's much warmer than in Temuco. Over 20 degrees. And sunny. It's quite a contrast. People are wearing shorts. The trees are putting on their summer clothes, too. Plenty of sprunging here.

After dumping my bags, I head on down to the Independent Republic of Pisco. Markus is already sitting outside with a pisco sour. Soon I have one, too. I’m sociable that way.

Two pisco sours with stars on the top.

After a couple of pisco sours, we order food. A beef sandwich for me. Ceviche for Markus.

“What did you think of the organisation in Temuco?” Markus asks.

“A bit chaotic. But not too bad. I try to keep my expectations low. It makes things far less annoying.”

“That’s probably a good idea.”

We spend a few happy hours drinking pisco sours and chatting. We call it a day a little after eleven.

Back in my hotel, I watch Match of the Day. Well, other than the Arsenal game, as I know they won. The cheating bastards. I turn in around 1:00.

The last of the Tomatin propels me towards slumber town.



Chipe Libre - Républica Independiente del Pisco
José Victorino Lastarria 282,
8320165 Santiago,
Región Metropolitana.
https://www.chipe-libre.cl/
 

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