From 20.03.2017: Departure from Bremen to Santiago de Chile

Monday, 20.03., 16:00 o'clock

Karin takes me to Bremen airport.

Nora and Hanna join. After checking in, there is still time for a wheat beer. My luggage is not overweight - mistakenly, I assumed 20 kg, but it is only 16 kg. The home scale is four kg off - better too little than too much...

We are all quite excited, but the gate is calling.

Like in the PMG times on my Blackberry (no one knows it anymore today), I just have to swipe my smartphone over the scanner and the gate should open. But it doesn't. I think it's strange, maybe the wrong mail - until a brightly made-up American woman comes and politely tells me that I took the gate for the priorities and not for the regular economy passengers. Hm - embarrassing - Karin, Hanna and Nora are currently distracted and don't notice it. Finally, I'm in - a last look back and then only forward.

The transfer to Paris CDG goes smoothly - Air France treats me to a cheese sandwich and a delicious coffee. Our best coffee machines can't do it like that. CDG is huge, but well organized. The passport control is done very quickly - all booths are occupied. The bus to my terminal is already waiting, and fifteen minutes later I am at my gate. I still have two and a half hours to write emails and use WhatsApp. It is a calm and pleasant atmosphere. No annoying music, no annoying announcements of flights or reminders not to leave your luggage 'unattended'. I find a kind of sun lounger and relax. Suddenly, delicate mandolin sounds can be heard from the 'underground' - one level below me. A passenger quietly plucks away.

The gate opens, a long line dares to jump to the South American continent. I am lucky and have an aisle seat in the middle section. The Boeing 777 lifts off on time. Dinner is served around one o'clock in the morning. Doesn't matter. Everything is timeless and spaceless now. The quality is rather poor - my neighbor on the window side probably ordered vegetarian with his online booking and is pampered. He gets served first and what is served to him looks good. So next time... My plan to refresh my Spanish is inhibited by the flight mode. I had hoped that the content would be downloaded. Well, now I can only do a quick sleep, listen to music on my smartphone, and wear a warm sweater. The air conditioning is set quite cold, as it was on the previous flights. The flight attendants walk through the cabin in short-sleeved shirts.

Fourteen hours is a long time. Almost one and a half working days! I haven't felt that way before. Well - this time I'll give up on the onboard movie enjoyment. But then it's almost done. Life returns to the sleepy cabin. The breakfast trolleys roll through the aisles. Occasionally, an awakened passenger opens his blind at his window seat. The flat-lying morning sun powers into the cabin with unimpeded force - creating a white-red light alley. Others follow suit and soon it's bright and the last sleeper welcomes the new day. The breakfast roll is still ice-cold, the warm part of the breakfast menu simply unappetizing. Meanwhile, my neighbor enjoys healthy breakfast cereals.

Finally, the descent to Santiago Airport begins and the plane lands on time around 10 o'clock. A camera in or on the cockpit allows me to take the pilot's perspective. It is always impressive how precisely the plane touches down - no swaying left and right, then the braking process, which reminds of the existence of the seatbelt, and finally the shutdown of the engines and the sudden quietness after 14 hours of engine noise! I have a problem: one that everyone knows and that does not compromise. The long-awaited place is only an estimated 5 steps away from me. But the seatbelt signs are still on. I think, doesn't matter - I just have to have arrived there before the standing passengers. I open the door after parking and taking my seat and already have one foot in the aisle when it simultaneously sounds from the front and from the back: SIR!!! Ok ok, I think and sit down again. Now the engines are finally shut down. Now I can definitely quickly make it to the long-awaited place before the others stand up and block the aisle - that's what I do, but again from the front and from the back: SIR!!! I don't care about the looks of the passengers directed at me. I give up and tense my muscles. It's a long long long way to Tipperary. Finally, I am at the level of the long-awaited destination and indicate to the flight attendant, who is already in farewell mode, my branching off towards the restroom. I experience the beginning of a new period of time...

(in Arica I meet Daniel from London who was on the same plane and witnessed my efforts with incomprehension from the rear of the plane. He laughed half to death when I explained to him the background of my unusual behavior.)

The customs and passport control here also proceed quickly and soon I find myself in front of numerous taxi drivers who want to offer their services. Either acquisition for a colleague who is waiting outside and from whom they also receive a commission, or other services that an arriving and sleep-deprived flight guest needs. I think, I am big enough myself, take out my smartphone and call KLM Cargo, who has received my Vespa. I actually reach someone, the connection is so bad and the person on the other side is so annoyed and unclear that I finally use the services of the taxi driver and let him take me to the cargo building. In total, 40,000 Chilean pesos change hands for transfer and service - about 60€. I won't let that happen again. But now I'm there and enter the building. Ground floor room 6. There is a ground floor, but no room 6 for it. I don't care and knock and kick the door. A small room with a double desk and workstations on the wall for the student assistants. One of the desk sitters gets up immediately and greets me friendly. He sees that I came from far away and is very helpful. In my wishful description, I shuttle between Spanish and English - the clerk helpfully switches on Google Translate. We understand each other and he becomes active. We go together to another office that first wants 80 dollars. I don't have dollars, they don't take credit cards. What my companion and helper negotiates with the rather sleepy-looking ladies, I don't know. We go back and he takes me directly to customs, negotiates the first negotiations for me, and says goodbye to me. I can leave my luggage in the already very small office and tell him that we will see each other again soon. Once all the data has been exchanged in the customs office, the waiting begins. Next to me sits an old Chilean señor who wants to know where I'm from and what I'm planning. He has also traveled through Europe - with an old Porsche that he had brought over. After half an hour, the greeter from the customs allows me to pass the counter in order to finally meet the clerk who will decide the well-being of my Vespa reception. He appears uncomplicated and courteous. We fill out the online form - also with the help of Google Translate - and soon I'm allowed to sign four copies, two of which I have to keep for possible border crossings and police checks, the other two are the open sesame for receiving the Vespa and leaving the customs area. Before that, I have to pay 80 euros. Fortunately, the clerk from KLM Cargo has released a student assistant for me when I picked up the backpack. He arranges the details with the ladies behind the window and finally the time has come. A red forklift truck comes around the corner of the high shelves and carries my crate in front of it. Adorned with shipping documents, but otherwise in good condition. Okay, one screw is hanging askew, but basically it has survived the approximately 13,000 km undamaged.

The journey begins: Ritterhude -> Rotenburg -> Hamburg -> Amsterdam -> Santiago de Chile

KLM Cargo - Santiago de Chile: arrived and cleared

She is brought outside the customs area by the driver for a tip and simply parked in a parking bay. The tip is meager, because I still have too few pesos. The student assistant, who actually did her job, is curious, takes out a pocket knife with a cross screwdriver and starts loosening the screws. I immediately find the tools I brought with me in my backpack luggage and shortly afterwards it stands free of cover and walls in the bright sunlight. Everything is still in place.

But I still have the impression that someone else has already looked inside. The windshield, which was previously strapped to the scooter with a strap, is now just lying there without fastening, but it is still wrapped and undamaged. In view of the fact that the fuel quantity does not quite meet the regulations and that I also have a tire repair kit with me, which should not be there but is still there, everything is fine.

We quickly become the center of attention, the customs officials who have to clear the trucks, look curiously over at us and want to know more later. Later, a kind of ADAC man arrives, asking many questions and whom I immediately ask for help. The student assistant is back in the office by now. The ADAC man and I carefully lift the Vespa from the base plate. We take pictures, I of him and he of me. I ask him if I can leave the remains of the crate there at the fence. He nods and becomes aware of his importance. He takes his employee card out of his shirt and tells me to take a photo of it. I'm happy to do that so that I can say in case of unpleasant questions that I have permission from a competent authority to leave the crate there. Everything falls into place. I screw the Vespa parts back together, connect the battery - and: it starts immediately after the second try! It is fully loaded, and I already notice that it is not so easy anymore to push it off the stand, let alone ride it with it! The first meters are very wobbly. Car drivers give it a wide berth. I slowly get moving. It is late afternoon. My physical supply level has reached the red to dark red mark. Thirst, thirst and more thirst. Since 10:00 in the morning without liquid and overall little sleep. I drive back to the airport first because there is WiFi, an ATM, and most importantly, water! I manage to get there quite well, although I get lost again in the meantime and end up back on the customs property and am politely sent back. Curve driving requires practice, but I arrive at the departure hall quite well. I park on a triangle marked with yellow stripes and just before dying of thirst. Raising the Vespa is an acrobatic act requiring a lot of physical flexibility. The leverage of the main stand is only limited because the panniers take away the range of motion. I only turn the ignition key because thirst pushes all safety concerns into the background. Withdrawing money, quenching thirst, but the WiFi is stubborn. Doesn't matter. It's 6:30 p.m. now. It gets dark at 8:00 p.m., and my strength is waning. So I start the Vespa - before that, a nice question-answer conversation with a businessman - and off we go. Very slowly through the curves and onto the highway. Little traffic, the sun is already quite low and blinds me. I miss exits due to tiredness and feel reminded of my Tillmann vacations. In Edinburgh, it was driving on the left and the roundabouts (the countless roundabouts) - here it's just my lack of concentration. Soon I have driven several cloverleaf leaves and finally I am on Avenida Bernardo O Higgins - one of Chile's presidents, which leads straight to La Moneda, the government palace.

The first meters: uncertain. The luggage more or less professionally secured. In the background, the crate in its individual parts

It is already getting dark. Given the fact that the evil robbers are already lurking after 8:00 p.m. - when it is dark - behind every tree waiting for me, I still set off. Finally, moving again, I rush upwards with quick steps. On the way, there are nice photo shoots of red-lit cloud formations above the city. For mountain bikers who have to work off their daily frustration, it's the best opportunity to work off their energy on the mountain. With their highly technical bikes, they zoom past us pedestrians - one catches my eye, who is not quite as fast because he has a lot of 'luggage' to carry. But he stays on his seat and wants to know. The 'mid-station' comes, the cabins whirr overhead and make their turn for the return trip. But I keep going. It's getting dark - I haven't thought about my supply again, push the problem away, and finally I am at the top when the city is already in the dark and - like a diamond - sparkling ahead. Should I keep going and provoke my fate? Yes - I think - I still have to reach the Virgin Mary. Said and done. She is 22 meters high. Her white marble is illuminated by the spotlights and even from a distance attracts attention. Now I want to go back. I'm already looking forward to a good escudo - the local beer - and I walk quickly past the pedestrians. The mountain bikers enjoy their speed rush and let their bikes run. Strongly blinding headlights that blink blue, white, or red and scare pedestrians into jumping to the side. South American temperament!!

Evening cloud formations above the city with the Andes in the background

It is already after 6:00 p.m. and considering the fact that the evil robbers are already lurking behind every tree after 8:00 p.m. - when it is dark - I still set off despite it. Finally moving again, I rush upwards with quick steps. On the way, there are nice photo shoots of red-lit cloud formations above the city. For mountain bikers who have to work off their daily frustration, it's the best opportunity to work off their energy on the mountain. With their highly technical bikes, they zoom past us pedestrians - one catches my eye, who is not quite as fast because he has a lot of 'luggage' to carry. But he stays on his seat and wants to know. There is the 'middle station' - the cabins whirr overhead and make their turn for the return trip. But I keep going. It's getting dark - I haven't thought about my supply again, push the problem away, and finally I am at the top when the city is already in the dark and - like a diamond - is sparkling. Should I keep going and provoke my fate? Yes - I think - I still have to reach the Virgin Mary. Said and done. She is 22 meters high. Her white marble is illuminated by the spotlights and even from a distance attracts attention. Now I want to go back. I'm already looking forward to a good escudo - the local beer - and I quickly pass the pedestrians. The mountain bikers enjoy their speed rush and let their bikes run. Strongly blinding headlights, which blink blue, white, or red, and scare pedestrians into jumping to the side. South American temperament!!

After a quarter of an hour, I'm back at La Chimba, my hostel in Bellavista! Just a quick escudo from the kiosk and the cozy part of the evening can begin. Now I am here in Valparaiso, this beautiful and colorful port city, and curious about what awaits me.