Dispatch: THE ROAD TO MAL PAIS


So this is the part where I get over confident. and regret it. We headed out of Monteverde and down to Punta Arenas to cross over to the Pacific Coast peninsula by ferry. We missed the 11:00 ferry by a minute, but not really, because we didn’t have a ticket and the line for the 2:00 ferry was already a 1/2 mile long. 

I asked how long to drive around the peninsula. I did the math and figured I could beat the ferry by nearly two hours. But the road is horrible he said. You can do, it but it’s slow and rough. Bah! Rough. But it’s faster, no? 

It wasn’t faster. Not by a long shot. And it was as slow moving as it gets, and remote. At times the rain was torrential, with three creek and one river crossing. We didn’t pass anyone for an hour at a time, except some quad runners and a tow truck with a much nicer car in the back. 

The views were beautiful. Small fincas with stark white cows, and little homes that looked abandoned except for the smallest signs of life. 

We had a half a bottle of water and a handful of trail mix, and the burger we stopped to eat at lunch was awful, so we didn’t eat. I preyed we didn’t get a flat tire, which seemed likely. When we came across a little pueblo I picked up a hitchhiker, a local woman going into Santa Theresa to shop. She was my talisman. She reassured me we were headed the right direction. She blessed us before getting out. 

We arrived to the beach, of course. Exhausted, my nerves rattled but we arrived. Pura Vida. 😅

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