Sunday, February 22, 2015

Tramping, camping and ramping

On Saturday, after another good night’s sleep, and fortified with cup of Kaladi coffee I was back to my old self, ready and raring to go,  so off we went to do some exploring in some parkland.  We like to find birds to photograph, so we did some hiking in areas that were basically all ours except for a few bicyclists here and there. 

There was some construction where we were wandering, but it didn't really detract from the view.

There's never a bad  bridge shot.

And a bridge and a bird?  Perfection.
Found a couple of our Canadian friends.

Egrets are great birds and I enjoy it every time we see one.  Or more.
We climbed over old water pipes, tramped along some trails and dirt roads, plunged into swamp water and over pickle grass to get across to other areas, made our way through barbed wire and fences and made it back out of there safe and sound with some super photos on our memory cards.  We were out there for a couple of hours and I was tired.

Old railroad lights, no glass or covers, but fun to play on.

There were lots of these snails around.

We climbed up and over multiple pipes during our tramping around.

Walking out, yep, I could be the exhibit coming soon.
We were planning to meet up with a biker friend from Pebble, Jimmy B, who used to live in Alaska.  He was going to ride up to meet us somewhere. 

We were down around Stanford when we heard a weird noise, a bell of some sort.  Not my phone.  Was it yours?  Nope.  A red light had come on in the car … a battery light.  We had one heck of a time trying to get someone from roadside assistance to help us.  If the car is running you have to keep using it, even if it could suddenly die on the 101 in traffic.  What?  Let me understate this … WE WERE NOT HAPPY, FRUSTRATED, PISSED OFF!!!!!  Fine.  We’d try to get it back to the airport.  Seems all other Enterprise rental offices closed at 2 p.m. or earlier, not that they could have helped us. 

However, we, who are pure of heart mostly, made it back to the airport.  We got a white car this time, Chevrolet, an upgrade and free gas.  AND a $50 credit.  AND an upgrade on the next car.  AND more free gas.  Guess our frustration was worth it a little bit.  But we spent three hours of our time that we’ll never get back, and we didn’t get to see Jimmy who had to be back to Pebble by 6 p.m. 

We’d worked up an appetite so food it was, a roasted yellow and red beet salad with blackened chicken for me, and home.  Tired out again, although we did find the mother ship of Facebook, the big home page of the (as Jaz calls it), Big Book of Face.  Had to stop for a photo there. 
Yep, the FB mother ship.

And FB has other vehicles ... a Hacking the Dragon?  Cool.

And their very own little mobile restaurant.
The time was close and spent repacking, getting all in order, making hotel reservations in Buenos Aires, checking my credit card, and going to bed.  Sleep was rather elusive as I was excited, but I managed a few hours.

Sunday, Feb. 15, was the big day … the day both of us would fly our first international flight.  We made it to the airport, turned in the rental car and hopped the flight from San Francisco to Los Angeles.  Flying over Los Angeles, I marveled at how huge this place is, how many tall buildings there are in so many different locations, how many houses there are crammed together, how many are up in the hills, how many appear to have swimming pools although they may just be blue tarps like people in Alaska have.  They can fool you, you know.

We had arrived and now the challenge would be to find the international terminal.  Good thing we’re literate.  Easy, peasy.  We decided to check in at the counter to be sure we were on the right track.  The lovely lady at LAN looked at our tickets and they were a bit messed up.  She fixed them for us.  Yahoo. 

Off we went to our gate.  We had provisions … water, nuts, Kind bars.  The plane was a 787, a big, big one, with nine seats across, in sets of three.  We had gotten ours traded for aisle seats and were happy as the plane was packed.  Why are so many people going to Lima?  A lady we spoke with said there are two flights a day and they’re always packed.  Okay.

We were expecting bare bones, but were happily surprised as we were greeted with blankets, pillows, headsets, earplugs and eye masks so we could sleep.  Movies were free, games were free, TV shows were free.  We even had a meal … and were offered wine.  Wow!!!!  Who’d a thought.  And I met a nice young man from Korea who is a teacher and plays a cello in an orchestra.  He flew 12 hours from Korea, and then this flight to Lima and then to Buenos Aires to pick up a handmade cello.  He showed me photos of it as it was being built … out of maple and poplar.  You never know who you might talk to on a flight.  I thought that was pretty cool.

I watched a movie I’d wanted to see, St. Vincent with Bill Murray, played a little solitaire and then started working on this.  But, it’s an eight-hour flight to Lima, Peru, and more to Santiago, Chile, and still more to Easter Island, Chile.  We left at 12:50 p.m. on our international flight and arrived sometime the next evening.  Very long, very tiring.

Chilean flag ... has great colors.

Hanging out outside of the terminal for a little while.  Fresh air required after hours and hours in planes and airport terminals.
Then we spent a 7-8 hour layover in Lima, camping out in the airport on benches, before we got the next flight to Santiago, Chile.  However, on that flight we were privileged enough to get first class.  Yahoo.  How wonderful.  Lay down chairs, linen for our meals.  And a bag with goodies … a little bag, some booties, a sleep mask.  This airlines knows how to treat its passengers … like people, not cattle.

Lots of security.  We go in and out of immigration, customs, security.  Lots of jobs there for people.

There's sure a lot of stuff confiscated.
We went down the ramp to our last flight that would get us to Easter Island, a five-hour flight into a small airport. 
Cloud formations, taken with a small camera through an airplane window, that doesn't do justice.

As we awaited our luggage at the Easter Island airport, we wondered if our man, Marcello, would find us.  Mostly people wait outside for their clients, family and friends. And our man was there, with a small girl holding up a sign, “Stefanie.”  Yes, they found us and Marcello was waiting with flower leis. 

Thank goodness.   A bed.  We were totally ready to crash.
Two days of travel to get here..  It was dark … 10:30 p.m.  I was tired, more than.  Exhausted.  It was hot and humid, but there was a fan and we opened all of the windows.  And fell into bed and into a deep sleep.

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