Sunday passed quietly. In the morning, after checking my emails, we headed into a small town called La Calera. The wooden houses with their corrugated iron roofs sprung up as we left the Pan-American Highway. We stopped outside a small corner shop, and they went in to get lottery tickets. A cat snoozed on the shop counter, and the proprietor was dusting the shop surfaces with the aid of an old rag and spit. On the street outside, it was very relaxed, almost what you’d read about in a book. The warm wintery sun was rising over the hills, and a sleepy village was waking up. People were going about their daily lives, buying bread, smoking, and generally having a chat. A few stray dogs were outside playing with an old plastic bottle they’d found, while street cleaners were sweeping away the dirt with broomsticks. Overhead, the telegraph cables wove a spider’s web throughout the town.
One thing that was unusual did catch my eye, namely a homemade convertible. It was just a bog standard small car, a sort of old Fiat Panda/Vauxhall Corsa job, except someone had put the front half of the roof on a hinge, so it could be folded back onto the back half as a convertible. I have a feeling it wouldn’t pass its MOT, but it was an interesting sight to see.
The field assistants kindly took me to some shops where I could get a Chilean SIM card, but unfortunately, as it was a Sunday, most of the shops were shut. The large department stores that had electronics sections were open, but none had the correct size SIM for my phone, so the search had to be abandoned. The shopping experience was a little awkward at times, as my safety steel capped boots set off all the alarms in the shops, so I got a few strange looks. Not ideal.
After lunch, I looked at the core for a while, before we called it a day. Pretty quiet overall.