Udgivet: 24.03.2019
Paradise is beautiful when it is enjoyable... unfortunately, that was not the case here. The most beautiful place means little when the most important element for survival in life, water, is missing.
So, after 3 days, I had to say goodbye to this dreamlike place. Together with the Frenchman who also became aware of the same problem and managed to endure for 4 days, I went to Hanga Roa to search for a camping site that we had heard about. We couldn't find it, but we found another one. We went back to dismantle and move our tents. It was a pity that there was no refrigerator there because drinks and food from the town 18 km away didn't stay cool and fresh for long in the tropical heat, and it became a challenge to consume both. By the second day, I was already feeling dizzy due to lack of fluids, and up until that point, I had only eaten the first warm meal on the day of my arrival. Furthermore, I had soft bread to choose from, which I fortunately bought and took to the camping site right after my arrival.
It just wasn't possible, I had tried, and I finally came to the conclusion that I had come here to enjoy, not to have a desert survival trip.
We tried to find the camping site we knew with a taxi. The taxi driver himself couldn't find it, even after asking several times and communicating with his central office, which had him drive and search in circles at least four times with live guidance through a crackling microphone.
In the end, it was clear to all of us that the camping site, which was noted with a nice-sounding name on the internet, could not exist.
It simply didn't exist.
The second option, another campsite in Hanga Roa, further up in the town and away from the sea, turned out to be acceptable but the exact opposite of what we had just left behind.
Here, there was everything you needed: water, a kitchen for self-catering, showers with even hot water, and an impeccably visible order of the tents, which were set up in rows on the field in the middle of the area.
There were even rooms with beds, and not to forget, a smoking area. And yes, there were also times that would have been missing otherwise. From rusticity and freedom to order and a functioning network, I chose the only single room that was still available. A small luxury for my body desperately seeking fluids, which was too tired to set up the tent again. There was no shade here, so it was better to have a room with a bed than a sun-drenched tent where you wake up and gasp for air.
Right in the smoking area, after taking a shower, I met Contis, Chileans who are spending their vacation time here. A family from Concepcion, my hometown, and two girls from Santiago.
Later, I walk down the approximately 10-minute path to the shops, the only main street in Hanga Roa, to buy food and drinks, pasta for the self-catering kitchen, which saves a lot of money since everything is very expensive here.
The next day, I go into town and sit alone in a café and take a day off. I use the Wi-Fi connection to send greetings and update my social networks. After three hours of just sitting, drinking, chatting, and watching the events unfold on Calle Principal, I go down to the port and sit by the sea. There, I also enjoy the sunset, and once again, I can hardly believe that I am actually here. As I walk back to the hostel, past another Moai, I get another sense of the mystical energy that breathes here.
Moai statues, guarding the island, appear everywhere, whether it's down at the port or in the Feria de Artesania line on the main street. They are everywhere, the island is full of them, you can feel it before you even see them.
In the following days, the Frenchman and I rent a motorcycle and explore the island with its attractions, including the famous sunrise of the 15 Moai statues. Getting up at 6, driving in the dark for about 45 minutes to the mystical place was definitely worth the journey and the early hour. The journey in the dark across the island while the moon bids farewell is special, it is peculiar with the sea by its side, which is like a resting pole with its waves accompanying from time to time as you rush along the coast, engulfed by the morning breeze, which is very fresh in the morning. Surrounded by the entire energy of the night that reigns here, there is no other word than mystical that is more suitable.
On the third day, after the Frenchman continues his journey to Santiago and from there to Pucon, I meet two more girls who are also spending their vacation here. They come from La Serena, where I have already spent two weeks in the circus.
What a coincidence :-)
We somehow have a connection to each other. They ask me if I would like to go with them to the Tapati, down by the sea, where there are music and dance performances every evening.
Where do you meet people here? In the 'Zona de Fumadores', the smoking area.
Since that moment, we do almost everything together, go into town, sit in cafes, go out to eat, watch the Tapati festival competitions together at the port, the music and dance events in the evenings, go to Anakena Playa together, go to a nightclub once, watch the sunset, and celebrate my birthday together. We talk a lot and get to know each other. These are beautiful conversations that connect us and repeatedly make us aware that encounters have a purpose.
Finally, the days always end in the smoking area at the campsite.
The smoking area is a meeting point day and night, a point for communication and exchange, and everything that started with the encounter of the two girls from La Serena carries me further on my journey in Chile.