When the unthinkable happens on your travels

Posted by Francis Brady on 18 March 2011

Have you ever considered that you could possibly die whilst on holiday?  While we were planning for our round-the-world trip, the thought of one or both of us not returning home did cross my mind.  But I mean, what were the chances, really?

As it happened, my husband and I encountered three potentially life threatening situations, all within two weeks of each other.  And I ask again, what were the chances, really?  Evidently much higher than I had anticipated.

February 2011 marked the first year anniversary of the 8.9 earthquake that hit Chile.  At that time it measured as the fifth largest earthquake in 100 years, shifting the entire city of Santiago 30 cm to the west and tilting the earth’s axis enough to cause it to spin faster, thus fractionally shortening the length of a day.

Footage from the recent earthquakes that struck New Zealand and Japan instantly restored my memory of the night we were caught in the earthquake.  We were in Santiago, Chile.  It was 3:30am. We were sound asleep when devastation struck.

The following is an extract from a blog post I wrote at the time:

It’s been a couple of weeks since the earthquake and the reminder of it bruises my memory.  It has been very difficult to forget “¦ every aftershock teases me to remember the words “¦ ‘come quickly, it is an earthquake’.

I recall violent sounds of smashing glass as windows broke and crockery came crashing out of the cupboards, the way the building bent from side to side and the concrete floor turned to liquid and lapped at our feet in rolling waves, the movement of the earth as it tore open endeavoring to devour everything in it’s gaping mouth, the fear that caused my stomach to squeeze in an attempt to empty it’s contents and the terror that strangled my lungs making breathing impossible and hearing Barry’s voice from a thousand miles away commanding me to breathe.

I recall the way people cling to one another inside a doorframe for dear life “¦ and then blackness as the power cut “¦ driving through the broken streets, people dispersed everywhere either in pajamas or wrapped in blankets holding babies and toddlers “¦ concrete chunks lay splashed across pavements and roads and fine dust fell silently like fresh snow “¦ the air was thick with silence “¦ furniture lay fractured on the ground and splintered debris poked up between the cracks “¦ the streets resembled the set of a science-fiction movie where at any moment you were expecting the director to shout ‘CUT’ “¦ the lights to come on and everything was back to normal “¦ how I wished that were true.

With parts of the airport demolished and the south of Chile inaccessible, we stuck with our original plans to move to the coast.  It was a very emotional and traumatic time for the citizens of Chile.  Flags were flying from windows, balconies and cars. Patriotism was at an all time high.  We felt very welcome in the coastal town of Viña del Mar and decided to rent an apartment on the beach.  Trying to leave Chile didn’t really enter our minds.  Loads of tourists and travellers were making frantic plans to escape.  But the whole country was so unstable it was difficult to find transport out of the country.  With about 40 aftershocks a day our nerves were feeling very frayed.

On the day the new president was being inaugurated, we were standing on our balcony watching the procession below.  Police on horseback were clopping along the road.  Barricades were being set up for the cavalcade.  And then, an enormous aftershock measuring 7.2 rocked the building.  Within minutes the street below was in pandemonium.  The police on horseback started shouting through their loudspeakers at the residential buildings around us.  Men and women in business suits scattered.  Guests were being evacuated from the Sheraton Hotel just to the right of us.  When I saw the chef running out of the hotel, still wearing his toque, I was convinced that there was a bomb scare which had something to do with the new president’s imminent arrival.  Why else would everybody be running for their lives?

A wave of panic swept over me and I thought that I’d better go and see what all the commotion was about. I just need to digress here for a second – whenever I wanted to speak faster I would unconsciously switch from Spanish to Afrikaans and only notice my faux pas once I had received a very blank look from my listener and my husband gently nudging me that my languages had become confused again.

Grabbing my jacket, I ran outside of the building urgently trying to ascertain what was going on, only for the caretaker of the building to give me the blank-look response.  Language aside, I began to gesticulate wildly in an attempt to communicate.  I soon discovered that there had been a tsunami warning as a result of the massive aftershock and that we needed to evacuate our apartment immediately.

We survived the ordeal and later moved north.  However, after visiting a national park where we were within walking distance of the base of Lascar (the most active volcano in the northern Chilean Andes that has a reputation for blowing every two years – and at that time was ready to pop – again!) we decided to leave.  We had already attracted two natural disasters in Chile and we didn’t want to be responsible for a third one.

While I may have written this piece with a couple of humorous overtones, nobody can describe the feeling of fear one experiences when facing enormous danger.

Do I think twice before leaving on a trip?  Yes I do.  Does it prevent me from going?  Not at all.

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