#25 A Tale of Two Cities – Repairing the Bike in Coyhaique (Reece's first blog)

It was the best of times, it was the worst of times. On our epic adventure, but marooned in Cochrane. We awoke the next day gloomy and apprenhensive, Charlotte was bedridden, well actually sitting in the lounge by the fire, so it was up to me to solve our woes. Problem numero uno (that's Spanish for number one) was that Charlotte is the linguist in our team, and I'm not. I get us from A to B, but she does the talking. So sorting out the mess in Spanish was not going to be easy.

Things did not start well: after pushing the 240kgs of bike 4 blocks to the only mechanic in town, then waiting an hour for him to arrive and look at the bike, his response was muy difficil (that's Spanish for very difficult) and no (that's Spanish for no). In addition to that positive news I quickly found out that no one in Cochrane could repair it and our only option was to get the bike to the larger town north, Coyhaique, a 6 hour drive (300km of gravel) from where we had already come – no deal.

I quickly learnt the two key rules when trying to get something done in a foreign country where you can't speak the language. Rule one – look sad, people are less likely to help someone who looks like they can help themself (happy people look like that). Rule two – and the most important one, don't leave! It's a battle of attrition. If you wait long enough, eventually people will realise you aren't going away and they have to help.

I employed rule one and two and after another hour at the mechanics I left with a phone number of a mechanic in Coyhaique, well that's what I hoped it was. Naturally I finished my set and pushed the bike back to the hostel.

The problem now became how to get the bike (and us) to Coyhaique. The rest of the day did not breed further progress and other door's closed shut – our Argentinian cellphone did not work in Chile, we tried calling the mechanic on a borrowed phone but couldn`t work out if he was a mechanic or if he was the friend of a mechanic.

The next day I headed out into a rainy, windy, cold day with only one clear plan - ask as many people as I could for help using rule one and two. I eventually wound up at this old man's house who had a ute outside (to get their involved tourist office, supermarket, another supermarket and then his house) who said he could take us, but at a very expensive price. Plan B was to rent a car; marked on the tourist map was a car rental on the other side of town. I headed there to compare prices and after walking up a big hill found nothing but grass. To double check (since I had come all this way) I knocked on a random house, explained our story – sorry a quick detour, when I say explain, this wasn't me speaking Spanish. Because I`m so useless, Charlotte had written a short story down which I then showed people – of course while employing rule one. The response was that there were no rental cars in Cochrane

As I was walking back down the hill, the man from the house appeared in a car and gestured for me to get in. Who was I to say know to a strange man offering me a ride. With no better idea I jumped in. We ended up at another man's house, who called another friend and suddenly the bike had a ride to Coyhaique at a good price. We then sat down at the computer and using the awesome power of the internet, had a conversaion using an English/Spanish translator. After that we jumped back into the car to go check the dimensions of the bike. I squeezed in between two large Chilean men with the gear stick right between my legs. Suddenly thoughts of the bike disappeared and my only concern was what new Chilean experience I might have when it came time to change gears.

You have to remember that through all of this that because of my language barrier I was never never quite sure what was going on, I could only go with the flow and hope for the best. The missed nuance became apparent when that night the truck that was going to take the bike turned up. It was HUGE, like moving an entire families belongings truck. Somehow 6 other people miraculously appeared and by the power of greyskull we got the bike onto the truck. The bike had to be laid on its side (not something I was happy with) and as I waved goodbye my first thought was, will we ever see it again? Followed secondly by, if we do, in what state?

The next morning we caught the bus and 8 hours of bumpy gravel later we arrived in Coyhaique. We needed to find accomodation, call the guy (turned out to be a friend of a mechanic), find the mechanic, find the bike, find a way of getting the bike to the mechanic, and also get the bike down from the Mt Everest of trucks. All with limited Spanish and a hobbling girlfriend. Somehow magically it all came together (I did employ rules one and two).

The next few days were spent with the mechanic helping him to repair the bike.I spent most of the time panelbeating the panniers (that's a fancy way of saying I hit them with a hammer). To get the parts needed we went all over Coyhaique to some dodgy spots where people made the parts from the back of their house. One guy was this welder, the only one in town I was told, who must have been 70-80yrs old. I thought he might die before finishing the repairs. At one time he had this coughing fit while holding his blowtorch spurting blue flame, good times.

Anyway, it all got fixed at a great price and after a few days Eleanor was back up and running. Since then we have driven back to Cochrane and further and its handling as well as ever. We have made some new friends and been blown away by the hospitality of the Chilean people.  

Since I've got her back between my legs I can't stop photographing her, so here is a sample from my private collection.