Chillin' in Chillán

Matt in happier times, waiting for the subway in Santiago

I know, it's a lame pun and almost as tired as "Chillin' in Chile," but I just had to write it.

Chillán (prounounced: chee YAWN) is a cool, medium-sized town about 5 hours by train south of Santiago. Matt (from Yukon) and I decided to leave Portillo because he was tired of Portillo and I was excited to see more of Chile--despite the fact that we awoke this morning to absolutely bluebird skies at Portillo.

We packed our bags and began practicing the ancient art of bumming a ride. My experiences in this regard have been excellent in Latin America thus far. It seems like all the random rides and buses coordinate perfectly to make for a customizable journey. That's how Matt and I got to Chillán today...almost. Here's how it went:

10:30 We carry our bags to the road in front of the resort. They wave their thumbs at a car and a truck passing, no luck.

10:32 A van is leaving the parking lot. Tim asks, "¿vas al Santiago?" The man answers, "no, a Los Andes." We know there are frequent buses from Los Andes to Santiago.

11:30 We are driven into the bus station and dropped off next to the bus leaving for Santiago. At what time? 11:30. No time to waste, get on the bus and get going!

1:00 Bus terminal in Santiago. Carry bags to the metro, go one block to the Estación Central, where the train leaves for Chillán.

1:15 Estación Central, buying tickets for the train. When does it leave? 1:30. Just in time.

1:20 We're on the train, bags in the back, ready to head for Chillán. Matt goes to get a snack.

1:30 The train pulls out of the station without so much as a warning whistle. Where's Matt?

Yep. Matt missed the train, and I now have all of his earthly possessions (his backpack and snowboard bag). We have no way of communicating, I didn't even know his last name until I looked at his luggage tag, and now I'm in Chillán, a city of about 100,000 people with no idea how to find him.

I figured that Matt might just run to a bus, as the next train was 5 hours later. But which bus terminal would I meet him at? There are two in town, about a half-mile apart.

I left Matt's bags in the jefe's office at the train station. I went down the street a ways to the hostel we had talked about briefly. Would Matt remember? He didn't even have a map or guidebook! The hostel was full. I went down the street further and found another one.

With my wobbly Spanish, I returned to the train station and tried to explain my predicament to the man in the tourism office. He didn't have any great ideas for me, which wasn't too surprising. Everyone I talked to asked, "why don't you call him?" I suppose cell phones can be pretty useful.

However, while in the tourist office, two of the train attendants stopped by to talk with me. They contacted one bus company and asked if an American had bought a ticket to Chillán. No luck. Then they called the train again, which previously had said that Matt hadn't gotten on the 5:30 train. Evidently there had been a mistake--Matt is on the 5:30 train and will arrive in Chillán tonight at 10:15.

I'm about to head over to the station to meet the train.

I hope Matt is there!