On-the-Road Tales

I met Dominique in the morning to go horseback riding up the north coast all the way around to Anakena. There are no roads on this section of the island, and from my hike the day before, I know trekking it would take hours and hours in unmerciful sun so we opted for horses. I always think this is a good idea until I mount these maniacal beasts. We suited up and were introduced to our Rapa Nui guide and his faithful dog companion. When we asked the horses names, we were told Manu and Manu. Apparently, all horses are called Manu to this guy – probably means horse in Rapa Nui but I did not ask. The guide was a man of few words and I did not get the feeling his greatest joy in life was escorting fearful broads across 16km of rugged terrain for the next few hours.

We ambled out of the horse paddock – and it was all downhill from there. The horses, which I am pretty sure I learned and apparently forgot from my experience a few months ago in Peru, are intent on being competitive with each other. They do not want the other one to get ahead, get around, go faster, cut them off etc. So within a few minutes, the nutjobs were cutting each other off, thus squishing our legs between equine hindquarters. The rivalry heated up and what started out as a trot for each to get ahead soon developed into an all out gallop. This being my 4th time on a horse, with a backpack on a not so comfortable saddle – I was not at all prepared for this. Naturally I screaming for dear life in whatever language came out which was of little use since I am positive if the horse would respond to anything it would be Rapa Nui. Holding on to the reins and saddle with both hands did not give me quite enough leverage to yank back on the bit and save myself. Eventually, in what seemed like an eternity, the guide appeared and cut off Manu. My hear was palpitating and I wondered how I was going to survive the next few hours. Manu was not at all pleased with me and would try to trot or gallop, stumble, stray at any opportunity. Nice – not a horse person I guess or at least I need some lessons on how to handle them a bit better! We followed the coast, stopped off at some ruined platforms, and ate lunch while checking out some petrogylphs on rocks and in caves.

The land was filled with big chunky volcanic debris and was quite steep compared to other parts of the island. In one section, right below a volcanic crater, there was a flat plain with a small house. It had a wicked ocean front view and an incredible panorama. Someone had decided to raise cattle and horses in this area isolated for hours from any other people or form of transportation. Apparently, it was an illegal area to settle according to Chilean government but I am not even sure they know about it. It was a little section of paradise I wish I had taken a picture. Unfortunetly – there are no photos of this trip. My camera did not appear since possessed horse threatened to bolt at any minute I let both hands go of the saddle! We eventually, at a quicker pace than I was comfortable with (should have called it horseback running instead of horseback riding) landed at Anakena. We were given the option of riding the 16km back or getting a lift in a truck. There was no frickin hestiation there – call the blasted truck! I was so not getting back on that thing. As it was – I was going to be sore enough after the last 5 hours riding and worse being completely tensed up!

We got back to town, grabbed some famous empanitas, and I went home to pack. I bid a sad farewell to my lovely hosts and I taxiied the 10 minutes over to the airport. Only one plane in at a time or sometimes even for the whole day so no such thing as gates or anything. One day earlier in the week – there was a group from National Georgraphic that arrived as well as one of those Abercrombie & Kent “Around the World in 40 days” charter airplane deals. They sent ahead 14, (read 1-4) inspectors to the hotel they were staying at to inspect every sheet, pillowcase, towel, silverware and make sure it was up to snuff. Ridiculous. That is not travelling if someone is going to de-culturize the experience before you arrive. Anyway – point being it was a big day at the airport with all that traffic…

My LanChile 767 landed and they changed crews. Dominique and I were ambling about and when we came out of the restroom, the entire lounge was empty, all the pax gone. We nearly missed the bloody plane – boarding on airstairs from the front and back goes a lot faster apparently than jetways. We ran across the tarmac and jumped on before they pulled the stairs. I would have felt pretty stupid missing the plane when there is only one in the whole airport.

Sad farewell to Easter island and South America. Probably the most fluent in spanish I will ever be unless I move south of the border! Onto the next section of my adventure not believing how fast exploring the first 5 countries went!

Tags: Travel

This entry was posted on Tuesday, April 10th, 2007 at 10:32 pm and is filed under Travel. You can follow any responses to this entry through the RSS 2.0 feed. You can leave a response, or trackback from your own site.