Adam Woolliscroft

Adventures, Races, Kit and Life

Atacama Crossing 2013 – Day 7 – The Final Shuffle

Day 7

The final stage of the race was a short, but rather unexpectedly fast 8km sprint into the finish line, which was scenically positioned right by a small church in the main square of the sleepy, cowboy town of San Pedro.

my finishIt was a fantastic climax, with great energy ! The square was packed with both tourists and locals cheering their support to the competitors. In the background fantastic tunes were blasted out by a local band to further enhance that South American Latino feel.

Within metres of the finish line we were greeted with fresh slices of the best tasting pizza ever…. Washed down with ice cold Coca-Cola ! Wow !  Somewhere between the finish line in the food I think I got given my medal too, but that was far less significant than the pizza ! I don’t think I have ever had seven slices of pizza straight after sprinting 8 km before but it seemed to go down very well indeed.

the finishPizza gluttony was followed by many sweaty hugs and embraces, firm handshakes, general back patting and even a few American “Yeha’s”, as the rest of the competitors charged over the line in a state of elation.

P1050886While the Japanese ( men ) showed their excitement by dancing in the square topless, my charismatic tent mates quickly found a nice cosy café, tucked out of sight and nestled in the shade of one of the incredibly old trees, that gave the square its character, and celebrated with a few traditional victory beers. Superb !

I’m not sure if it’s the altitude, or the race, and was probably a cocktail of both, but I was surprisingly tipsy, surprisingly quickly….. Yeha !

This was just the beginning of a huge day of alcohol fuelled celebrations, including chilled beers by the pool, a pub crawl back into town with a few of the lads, Sour Piscos ( the local drink ), more sour piscos ( they were damn good ), all leading up to the official “RTP events banquet” that evening, which was fantastic.

At 2 AM in the morning I found myself, completely disorientated and unable to figure out which direction to head in to find the hotel, obviously unable to speak the local language, and probably any language without slurring and in true style. My night climaxed with me running to my hotel in flip-flops, whilst being chased by a small pack of South American dogs…… Quite fun really !


San Pedro chruch


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This entry was posted on March 21, 2013 by in Main Menu and tagged , , , , , , , .
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