A Grueling Climb, Unexpected Kindness, and the Road to Casablanca

The day started early—6 AM, as always. And of course, Ruth was already up and running. She had prepared a few things for my journey, and I almost needed a second buggy to pack it all away! What a funny, considerate, and warm woman. She has this incredible gift for making people feel at home. She had me laughing before the day even began, and she insisted on walking me out of town to send me off to Casablanca.

We made our way through Valparaíso, climbing up and down the hilly streets. First, she wrapped a scarf around me, knowing I'd need it for the colder weather further south. Then, we stopped several times for photos, savoring the morning together. We took our time, chatting and enjoying each other's company. Eventually, it was time to take off. I followed the route Google suggested, but within minutes, I realized something was off. The road that should have connected to the next one simply didn’t exist.

I asked a man for directions, but he didn’t understand me. So, I backtracked and tried another route. Soon, the streets turned brutally steep. Step by step, I pushed my buggy, having to throw and tear at it to steer. But the inclines only got worse. No joke—at one point, I had my arms fully outstretched, leaning forward, pushing with everything I had. All I could focus on was not falling, not losing my grip on the buggy, and keeping an eye on traffic. Passersby stared, probably wondering what on earth I was doing. The climb felt never-ending.

Midway, a man came after me, warning me not to take the road ahead. He insisted multiple times that I should turn left instead. At first, I hesitated—after all, Google had sent me this way. But then I thought: if a local goes out of his way to warn me, he must know something I don’t. So, I listened. And now, having made it through, I’m sure he was right. Even the “better” way was rough—I don’t even want to know what the other would have been like.

The challenges of the climb didn’t stop at the steepness. Aggressive barking dogs lunged toward me, and the garbage lining the roadside was a harsh reminder of our wastefulness. After nearly two hours and almost seven miles of relentless climbing, I finally reached the top, completely drained. I searched for a place to sit, but there wasn’t much available. The road turned into a dusty, sandy gravel path, littered with more garbage and stray dogs—puppies everywhere. It was eerily empty except for the occasional passing car heading to and from a company in the area.

At the first sign of civilization, I spotted a bus station with a bench. I sat down, chatted briefly with a man working there, ate some food, and tried to recover. I wanted to run again, but my legs wouldn’t cooperate. Perhaps it was all the uphill stretches making running impossible. The heat intensified, and as I moved further from the coast, the landscape grew drier.

At mile 20, I stopped at a café and met Monika and Cesar. Sitting in the shade, soaking in the peaceful atmosphere, and chatting with them was a welcome break. The last few miles were better; I found some rhythm, but my mind was fixated on reaching my destination—I was exhausted.

Finally, in Casablanca, the last stretch offered a smooth cycle path. A generous family handed me fresh fruit and even tried to help me find accommodation. After thanking them, I stopped for a celebratory coffee and called Yanis for his birthday.

The first hostel I checked was full, but I was lucky at the second one. Christian and Jacqueline welcomed me warmly, offering a comfortable room and plenty of food. After a shower and settling in, I felt deeply grateful for their hospitality and kindness. I truly needed that boost after such a tough day.

Thanks for following along. See you tomorrow!