28 Hairpin bends and more bad luck!

We escape the camp ground of Mendoza on a Tuesday morning through the industrial park. It's not the most picturesque route we've taken but we do hit the scenery a bit further on as we climb up into the Andes to cross into Chile. There are a few sights on the way, including an Inca bridge and a statue of Christo Redentor at the top of the Andes. We don't make it to the statue though as there is still snow covering the track so we have to settle for a view of the highest mountain outside of the Himalayas, Co. Aconcagua. It's not a bad compromise even if I did dropp the bike on the snow covered track doing a u-turn.
After customs come the 28 hairpin bends as we head back down to a reasonable altitude. Trucks, buses and cars, they're all loving it. I did try to take a photo but it didn't capture the 'moment' so to speak. For about 15 minutes, yes I still take corners slowly, I'm giggling like a giddy school girl with every turn.
We have an audience again setting up the only tent in a camping ground but we're getting used to it, even if this is Chile. (Interesting fact that I didn't know but had suspected, Chile is named after being chilly but was a mis-spelling after some French, I think, cartographor got the spelling wrong, a lot like me and my place names in this blog)
So after the heights of the Andes we head for the coast, bypassing Santiago and hitting the coast just north of Valparaiso. It's early on in the day and we're thinking great, loads of time to find somewhere to stay and get some breaky (Can you see a theme developing here, you think the trip is about motorcycling but it's actually about food and making sure we get our breakfast).
Stopping for a photo of the bikes by the Pacific Ocean, all's going to plan. That is until about 500m down the road I go over a bump that I wouldn't even notice normally, except this time, the back end of my bike has dropped and my butt feels like it is dragging on the ground. I know I've put on some weight with my quest for breakfasts but really, this is a bit much! Fortunately there is no traffic and I can pull over straight away. At least this time I've broken down with a view of the Pacific Ocean.
Five hours later and some major sunburn (Reminder to myself, when I break down I must put on sun screen and my hat) the bolt that had vibrated out has been replaced and the bolt that had sheared off under the strain of being the only bolt holding the subframe on, has been drilled out, replaced and all corresponding broken brackets have been re-welded. Another note to myself, Lock-tite all nuts and bolts that hold the bike together.
I'd like to add a very big thankyou to the plumber who was working in the house that I pulled up in the front of. He immediately came out to see if everything was ok, then offer us help when he found out it wasn't. He stopped what he was doing, loaded my luggage, panniers and rack into his van and lead us to a mate of his who was a very good welder, up the road a bit. And to Mike, who once again, knew how to put the bike back together with cable ties and also had the correct size bolt to replace the one that had fallen out, unlike myself. I'd like not to thank the couple who rode past twice on their very nice clean BMW and although it was obvious my bike was in trouble, avoided eye contact, the missus on the back probably saying, 'Don't stop dear, they may need help and we wouldn't want to get our hands dirty!'