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Day 6: 15 June 2002 - "Read to me Naked."

Having been up until 4am the night before, we naturally spent the morning lazing around in bed again. When we finally got up, there wasn't really time for showers, because we had to get our things together for the trip to Copiapó. Apparently the brake problem couldn't be fixed in time, so we would be going north by salon cama bus. Pato very kindly remarked, at some point, that with my dirty, smoke-filled, scraggly hair, I looked like el Rey León, the Lion King. I scraped my hair up into a ponytail and continued with the day.

Pato had his Chocapic for breakfast and put sugar on top of it, reminding me of a Calvin & Hobbes cartoon. I understand a bit more his obsession with sugar, as it seems like I've had Coke with almost every meal, and Chileans sweeten their juice even more than Americans do.

Pato had promised to take Tamara to the movies during his stay in Rancagua, so he fulfilled the promise that afternoon, when we all went to see El Hombre Araña. It didn't occur to us, until we'd already sat down in the theatre, to wonder whether this was a dubbed or subtitled version of the movie. It turned out to be dubbed, but that was fine with me, because I'd already seen the movie twice and knew the dialogue pretty well. It was interesting to hear the way they translated things - I was very disappointed when the Chess Club said "whisky!" (the Spanish/French alternative for "cheese!") rather than whatever is Spanish for "checkmate".

After the movie, we returned home for tea and sandwiches (I had gouda and homemade plum jam - don't knock it till you've tried it) and to get our stuff together. We packed it into one of the family's cars and Angie drove us to the bus station in Santiago. On the way, I saw a sign for a street named after a Chilean bishop and learned that the Spanish word for bishop is "obispo", which I figured Katie might get a kick out of. We said our goodbyes and got onto the bus for our 12-hour ride.

Salon camas are a lot like airplanes, except with more leg room and more turbulence. And no wings, obviously. Hmm. There is a conductor-type-person who brings blankets, puts in the video for the trip (ours was Broken Arrow, starring the lovely and talented John Revolta), and brings meals (dinner and breakfast). I read a chapter of the book I brought along for the trip, David Sedaris' Naked, to Pato, then fell quickly asleep, even before they'd dimmed the lights. I think a 12-hour bus journey is much more conducive to sleep than is an 8-hour flight - both for the reclining seats and the fact that an 8-hour flight, including meals and movies and the air-pressure on your bladder that keeps waking you up, really doesn't give you much time to nod off.

srah - Saturday, 15 June 2002 - 8:46 PM
Tags: chile, travel

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