The Last Six Weeks in Our Truck Camper, “Thirsty Bella”, in Central Chile

In October, Mark, Maya, and I swapped Paraguay for Chile for two reasons: to pursue a Vario van for our next adventure and to be able to sell our own Thirsty Bella easier, since Central Chile is the starting point for many overlanders. Flights to Santiago are more affordable than elsewhere in South America, gear is easily available in a plethora of well-equipped stores, and there are companies selling cars to foreigners. Since our car was registered in the US, the transfer to a new owner would be easy, regardless.

(As always, click on or hover over photos in galleries to read their captions.)

After long days of driving across Argentina, we arrived in Santiago, Chile’s capital, for the second time. We had fond memories of urban camping by Parque Metropolitano, which we’d hoped would become our base soon. We only stayed one night, to confirm if this was still an attractive overnight spot (it was), to fix our back window before the next rain, and to visit Suzie Santiago CTW’s office within walking distance. We would hire them to do the paperwork if we were to buy a Chilean Vario. It was all part of our months of research, gathering data, and interacting with potential service providers.

We also checked out Suzie Santiago’s workshop on the outskirts of the city and spent one night at a noisy truck stop before heading south towards Pichilemu, where we would set eyes on a Vario van that had a horrible conversion done to it.

The idea was to confirm everything we were told by the owner—the vehicle was supposed to be in “perfect condition”—and make an offer. Then, we’d start the registration process in our name, bring the van to Paraguay to have it built out by a factory we’d visited and agreed on a quote with, and eventually ship it to Europe for the next chapter in our lives.

Since we couldn’t visit this Vario until Monday, we spent the weekend at a nice wild camping spot on a bluff in Navidad, with a pretty view over the ocean and good walks for Maya. Despite this being our favorite spot in a while, we didn’t return because of the strong onshore breezes, covering our camper with salt water. Since Mark had recently repainted our ladder and jacks, he didn’t want corrosion to return before the sale of our camper.

And then, we arrived in Pichilemu and our whole future and idea (one could call it “dream”) fell apart fast, after we checked out Antonio’s Vario, which he had greatly misrepresented and wanted way too much money for. We do wonder how many more years it will be neglected and if it’ll ever get sold. I wrote about all this here.

For anyone who read this elongated ordeal about looking for a Vario, we had one more possibility in Peru, but that fell through as well. Buying a car that is registered on this continent is really difficult, confusing, and frustrating, if at all possible. We never received meaningful answers from officials in charge and had no idea about how to transport this Vario across borders. Importing a car into Paraguay as a tourist is tricky and expensive but doable. When we never found out if vehicles with a Paraguayan license plate could obtain a carnet to travel in Africa, we gave up. Too many complications, red flags, and hassles.

Luckily, the surf town of Pichilemu appeared to be quite attractive, peaceful, and fun. We enjoyed our walks along the boardwalk and through parks, our free spot by the estuary, and our quick visits to the beach. We organized a virtual tour of Thirsty Bella for an interested Dutch couple, which led to an accepted offer on the spot, a successful sale, and us eventually moving out, five weeks later.

The irony didn’t get lost on us: this exact spot was where we looked for our new home on wheels that was misrepresented and in terrible condition. And it’s also where we sold our own camper because of our honesty, willingness to explain everything, and openness to a lower offer.

The entire month of November in Chile revolved around researching and looking at different vans that we could potentially build out in Paraguay, continually being disappointed, pursuing our crazy idea with passenger vans, and finally giving up.

During this time, we stayed for a few days at a nice free camping spot along the Rapel River, where we felt at ease, did a few chores, and focused on research.

After another Vario dead-end near Santiago and a few days of camping in a coastal town called Santo Domingo, we returned to this spot, since it was the most convenient, quiet, and attractive camping area we could find within two hours of the capital.

We initially parked at the same spot as before, until we looked up from our computers and out the window… We were surrounded by water! Talk about a scare. We closed the lids of our laptops, Mark retrieved our floating shoes and jumped in the car with wet feet, and I quickly stored loose items and latched cabinets. He immediately reversed onto higher ground while Maya and I remained in the bouncy camper. Phew!

Coincidentally, a security truck passed through the area minutes later, but this wasn’t related. At noon, a siren disturbed the peace, but that was unrelated as well. Searching online for opening times and days of the dam upriver didn’t offer any explanation or caution either. I guess this river floods without warnings and you better be aware!

So, we moved to a spot on higher ground and stayed for a week, resting up, researching, working, and walking Maya. Dumpsters, small stores, and restaurants were located in walking distance, so life was easy!

Mid-November, we returned to our “home base” by the park in Providencia, which is our favorite neighborhood in Santiago. Urban camping is comfortable here, with trash cans, hiking trails, incredible grocery stores and restaurants, public bathrooms, a drinking fountain, a grassy lawn to rest in the shade, different parks in walking distance, and even potable water from the friendly gardeners if needed.

Residents are friendly and tourists curious. It’s really a good place to be despite the occasional city noises and increasing heat.

Thirsty Bella, Mark, and Maya stayed here for two weeks. I slept here for ten nights, spending the remaining four on Easter Island, which is for the next blog post. Santiago is also where I celebrated my 50th birthday at an incredible French restaurant, Le Bistro de Gaetan, on November 28th.

Our plan, while waiting for the new buyers to arrive, consisted of three nights at a paid campground in the cooler hills. We would thoroughly clean the interior and exterior of the camper and the truck, organize our stuff, and pack bags to be stored in the cab. Because the Dutch couple is allergic to dogs, we had to incorporated that into our cleaning rigor and logistics heading back into the city with Maya.

We had accounted for everything and actually didn’t feel rushed because of it, going through the different stages of cleaning with joy and ease. Until the last morning, when we had planned to separate the truck and camper and wash both externally with the high-pressure water before driving back to Santiago that afternoon. Nobody else stayed at the campground.

It was 9am. Mark and I had just taken the camper off and prepped the hose when a neighbor on the same property approached us with a plastic plumbing piece in his hand. I saw this coming. Seriously. The main water pipe had broken and needed a new part, which he—and his neighbors—didn’t have available. He had to drive into the city, find the right part, and repair the pipe… In the meantime: no water! At least someone had come by to tell us what was going on.

Long story and heightened frustrations short: we waited for three hours until the water—and its pressure—returned and left the campground with a spanking clean setup around 4pm.

We were now ready for the new owners to view Thirsty Bella on December 3rd, deal with the paperwork the following day (Maya’s birthday), buy and install a new tire to fix a last-minute issue, wave our home on wheels goodbye, and move into an Airbnb on December 5th. Read the post about Bella’s sale here.

We’ve had some eventful weeks! This seems to be a theme…

Next up: The best 50th birthday gift ever: a five-day trip to Easter Island!

Curious about a previous ten-year chapter in our nomadic lives, which includes eight years aboard a 35-foot sailboat in the tropics with dogs? Check out my compelling, inspiring, and refreshingly honest travel memoir: