Well, I've
just cracked open a fresh can of Guinness, and as you are here, I might as
well tell the story:
So, there
we were, at 4,152 m above the sea level that we had left at the start of the
day at Tocopilla. Our luggage was at our hotel in San Pedro de Atacama at
about 1,200 m, so we had a mere 3,000 m to descend without a clutch. Even Leo
refused to contemplate such a journey, fearing that he'd burn out the breaks
too so that we would arrive as The Cannonball Express somewhere in San Pedro.
We decided
that it was safe to let the car coast down the road a bit to a water pumping
station where we had seen some men at work. Leo explained our problem and we
were told that their foreman, Hector - who had a car - would arrive soon to
pick them up would know what to do. We waited for more than an hour. In the
mean time we flagged down a car whose driver agreed to take Marlon to San
Pedro to look for help. Hector dully arrived and willingly inspected the car.
'Your clutch has burned out' he announced. We knew that already, but how could
we get down the hill, especially as the once-blue sky was looking very
threatening with snow forecast during the night?
'I'll
drive the car down' suggested Hector. 'Without a clutch?' we asked in
disbelief. 'It'll be alright' he explained, 'I know the road, it is wide and
there are not too many bends. My car can go in front and act as a break car.
If I go to fast, I'll flash the lights and honk the horn, the break car will
slow down until our bumpers touch and together we will slow down to the safe
speed.' He sounded confident and, as the light was beginning to fade, we had
few alternative options.
And so,
Hector took the driving seat, with one of his workman next to him. I sat
behind Hector and John made up our temporary car party while Leo joined the
break car team who laughingly gave us a push to get the car rolling. This was
more successful than anticipated, so that we were now picking up speed with
the break car behind rather than in front of us. I looked at John and he
looked at me - we were concerned.
'We're doing 50 k.p.h.' reported John, and no sign of the break car. John
would continue to update me on our speed until we reached 100 k.p.h.
He then went very quiet.
'How fast are we going now?' I finally asked, as the scenery flashed by.
'150 k.p.h' John replied
'What is Hector doing?' I asked stupidly.
'No idea' came John's reply, 'but if he has any sense, he'll have his eyes
closed and is praying like hell - just like I am doing!'
John's
prayers must have worked, because the road levelled out as the outline of San
Pedro came closer and there was even a slight incline which brought us to a
halt. We all sat back in silence until the break car pulled up next to us.
Wow, what a ride! All credit to Hector who had only touched the breaks on
three brief occasions and had used the full width of the road to zig zag to
slow us down when it was safe to do so. We had not met any ongoing traffic.
That night
we treated Hector and his friend to a meal in the best restaurant in town,
with plenty of wine and Pisco Sours, from which we learned that drinking
alcohol at high altitude is not recommended.
The next
morning was spent trying to contact the car rental firm for advice and Nissan
dealerships to find the spare parts needed to repair the car. We also tracked
down the best (and only) mechanic in town - the local vulcanisation (tyre
repair man). A new clutch was found in Calama, some 100 km away. The problem
was that it was Saturday morning, the garage in Calama closed at 1 pm and
Chile would be on holiday on Monday - Navy Day. Leo asked the 'vulcaniser' if
he had a car. He proudly showed us his 1960-something Chevy RCV, brightly
painted and lovingly highly polished. It even started.
So Leo and
his new friend set off for Calama and should make it on time. They did, with 5
minutes to spare. Leo checked the details of the new part against the old one
that had already been taken off our car. Great! He handed over his credit card
- but discovered that the garage only accepted cash! Where was the nearest
bank? Two blocks away and due to close any minute. The Chevy tore down the
road and dropped Leo off just before the bank closed. But this was a busy
road, so when Leo emerged from the bank, there was no car to pick him up.
Eventually, they found each other and made it back to the garage which had
stayed open specially to await their return.
Leo sat
back in his seat as the Chevy hummed it's way back towards San Pedro - until,
some 40 km out of Calama, there was a bang and lots of smoke and the engine of
our Chilean friend's pride and joy blew up! Fortunately no one was hurt, but
Leo's friend was almost in tears as they had to hitch a lift to San Pedro,
leaving his darling car along the side of the road.
They
finally arrived back in San Pedro where Marlon, John and I had spent a
pleasant day, buying souvenirs, visiting internet cafe's and bars, where we
learned that back home in England, Liverpool had won the FA Cup (an annual
soccer event).
Somehow,
Leo managed to cajole (or was it 'bully') his Chilean 'friend' in fixing our
car that afternoon, rather than wait until Tuesday morning, when we were due
to meet Rudolf Schulz in Taltal.
Our deep
heartfelt thanks go to all those Chileans who went far beyond our expectations
in helping us - thank you - and to Leo, who had proven that you don't have to
wear your underpants outside your trousers to deserve the title Superman!
