Monthly Archives: March 2008

Chilean Adventure Part VI

20 Thursday Mar 2008

Posted by in Argentina, Chile

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It is with a saddened heart that I write my last epistle of my magical adventure through South America. Tomorrow, I fly home to the United States, changed by my experiences here. This journey has surpassed all of my expectations, and all I can wish is that I had had the foresight to travel for at least another month!
I last left the story in Puerto Natales, the day before the start of my 4 night-5day backpacking adventure along the famous and fondly known “W” (named for the shape that the trail makes) in the stunning Patagonia National Park known as Torres Del Paine. After finishing my last email…it was almost time for the 3pm afternoon “talk” where the owner of the Erratic Rock Hostel, Rustyn, gives would be hikers the lowdown on the trail, what to bring, weather conditions, recommendations etc. I was pretty hungry, but all of the restaurants in town were taking a “siesta” and were closed. As hikers began to file into the room, a few of them introduced themselves to me- Franklin, from Seattle (!!!!), and Sven from Denmark. They were both planning on hiking “The Circuit” – a much longer version of the W that carries considerably greater bragging rights. I sighed. No hiking buddy for me – yet!

Svend was kind enough to share some bread with me which went nicely with my hot American coffee that I had been drinking nonstop since my arrival (this is what being exposed to Nescafe instant for 4 weeks does to you). Rustyn was an extremely entertaining fellow. I had discovered over breakfast that morning that he, his wife, and their two children had decided to pursue their ¨”American Dream” several years ago by packing up their lives in Oregon and moving to Patagonia to open this hostel and guiding service. During the orientation he humored us with funny anecdotes of the pitfalls that await the unprepared hikers: wearing too many clothes on the sunrise ascent to the Torres then having to turn back because they are so cold, freaking out when it starts raining as they haven´t protected their sleeping bags with plastic, trying to complete the hike too fast, carrying too much weight, and my personal favorite: thinking that Goretex is the miracle fabric that will keep them protected from the elements and allow their sweat to magically evaporate because its just “SO BREATHABLE”!!!

As usual with me, I was falling over myself laughing, and to my added enjoyment, so was Sven. At the end of the talk, I turned to Sven and said, “You have a sense of fun. I like you. We´re hiking together!” And he agreed! A few minutes later we had appended 2 others to our little hiking party (which was henceforth known as Team Guanacos 2008) – Franklin (who had also decided to forgo the Circuit) and a lovely German girl called Britta (who was henceforth known as Bitter Britta by myself…..Can you please pass me a bit of better butter Britta bitter??? ha ha!) We busily decided amongst ourselves with pen and paper (and me whooping with building anticipation of our adventure) what equipment we still needed to rent, and what items were necessary for purchase amongst us. It was clear from the start that Team Guanacos had a born leader…Sven, a serious mountaineer who had recently returned from an attempted ascent of South America´s tallest mountain, Aconcagua (which I always referred to as Anaconda as I couldn´t remember the damn name), and who is so irritatingly fit and made of muscle, that he was clearly choosing to hike the “W” as part of his cool down. He soon garnered the nickname of Papa Sven, at least from the girls! The rest of us were going to get our asses seriously kicked!

The rest of the afternoon was a hilarious parade around town..starting with a late lunch where we picked up a fifth member for our team – Meg from Massachusettes, who had come to volunteer at Erratic Rock for a month. We all paced around town trying to pick up trekking poles, trash bags, an assortment of groceries, batteries, caribiners, hats, sunscreen, and a rather screamingly funny attempt to acquire Moleskin at a pharmacy by pointing to our feet and saying “por nuestre piernas!!”. The next morning, Britta enquired if I had obtained the moleskin by asking me – “Did you manage to get the bliss preventation?” Clearly this also became a catchphrase for the rest of the trip… “Isn´t it magnificent?” “Yes! Its totally bliss preventation!!”

You get the idea.

After a very late night (imagine five people splitting provisions over a breakfast table, including getting a giant mixing bowl and trying to aportion dried milk, sugar and oatmeal into the right proportions for 20 breakfasts!) spent packing my pack, I went to bed around midnight too excited to fall asleep. The bus was picking us up at 7am. I was getting quite adept at early mornings: why do I only have a hard time with it in the States?

Breakfast was abuzz with excitement (at least for me, everyone else seemed rather miserable to be awake), and it grew when one by one, the rest of team Guanacos arrived in the lobby to await our bus. We had a lovely “before” shot of the five of us on the couch, and then we all piled onto the bus where I proceeded to annoy the shit out of everyone, and create suspicions of drug use due to my cheeriness. Together with Sven and Britta, I soon came up with what would be the theme song to our backpacking trip “Torres Del Paine!” sung to the tune of “everybody dance now!”. W! Let the winds blow you down….let the mountains move you….Sweat! Sw—-weat! Hope you´re wearing PolyPro! Leave the cotton behind! – To which we all dissolved into painful fits of giggles. This was going to be an amazing group of people!!

After an hour catnap, we arrived at the first stop and ran in for a quick pee (remember Britta?) and a coffee (well…a sip of coffee that we stole from Sven). Soon, the full magnificence of the park was before our very eyes and we were happily snapping pictures of the “Torres!” from the bus. The bus dropped us off a little early at the launch site for the catamaran across Lago Pehoe that would take us to the start of our hike. So we all decided to walk the 1km or so to a little waterfall just off the trail. This is where we got our first tastes of the bitter Torres Winds. Patagonia gets weather patterns hitting it from the Atlantic, Antarctic, and Pacific Oceans, making it one of the windiest places on earth. Hikers have literally been swept up and off their feet by it. Fortunately for us, that afternoon was the only time on the entire hike where we were subjected to its full ferocity.

Paranoid about missing the boat (the literal one of course!) I practically ran back to the launch. Of course there was nothing to worry about, and we were soon on our merry way, eating chocolate and peaches.
Off we set on our relatively easy first day´s hike of 11km to Refugio Grey at the shore of stunning Lago Grey. We whooped and snapped away photos of icebergs that had chunked off of the glacier and were now happily floating downstream. They were an amazing array of translucent blue color. The wind was still brutal until we finally descended into the valley that would be our campsite for the first night. We literally staked our tents on a beach that had a view directly overlooking the glacier beyond, and that contained thousands of tiny icebergs, all happily lapping at the shore. It was by far the best campsite of the trip. Ravenous, we all quickly got to work making dinner, several of us stealing a gloriously though trickling hot shower in the campground ( I know, you´re not really in the backcountry at any point on this itinerary!). Pasta, serrano ham, and white sauce never tasted so good. We were all pretty happy….and then Papa Sven produced a carton of red wine that he had hauled up for our first night of camping! We drank it greedily, using it to wash down hunks of chocolate that we´d brought for dessert.

Settling down for the first night was interesting…we decided that Meg and Franklin would share the two person tent, leaving Britta, myself and Sven in the three man tent. Once we were all in there, it for sure felt like a two man- we had to turn in unison it was so tight! But we for sure became the giggly tent, and dissolved into fits of laughter every night for a good hour or two before we could wind down enough for any shut eye. Britta:your English is excellent, please forgive us for sometimes laughing at your sentence formations! They were very entertaining…remember- “I didn´t want to go…its just too cliffy!”?

I slept surprisingly well despite my sleeping pad, which should have been called “the useless layer of foam that only gives you the impression that there is something between your hip bone and the cold hard ground.” Ouch. We got up quite late – had a yummy breakfast of oatmeal and blackberry jam, then headed up to the next camp which boasted a view overlooking the crevasses of the glacier up close. We left our heavy gear and headed up armed with just water. It was well worth the effort, and a spectacularly clear and sunny day! Upon our return, we enjoyed a second breakfast of eggs (that I had transported already whipped in a bottle), watched dumbfounded as Sven decided to go skinny dipping in the frigid ice water, before packing up our slightly lighter backpacks and heading back down to Lago Pehoe.

After getting about half way, it became painfully obvious that we had started our main hike of the day way too late, and that we would probably be forced to make our way to Campamento Italiano during and after sundown. By the time we got back to Lago Pehoe, it was already 7pm, my feet were hurting, and we had another 2 hours to go! Trying to stay focused on getting there…we all dug in and headed out, stopping only for chocolate to refuel, and to put on extra layers when the sun finally dipped below the horizon. I was so glad that Britta and Sven were with me at this point… I was close to tears having also just had the enormous fortune of starting my period!!! (what great timing, eh?) Sven tried to encourage me by saying “Just think that we’re Ninjas on a quest! Ninjas don’t get tired!”, to which I responded “Ninjas don’t hike!”, which had us all laughing hysterically. The one thing that succeeded in getting my mind off of the pain in my feet was singing. Britta and Svend requested many songs, and I sang any that popped into my head. In fact, for the rest of our journey, I sang for many hours every day. I gained the label of “organic ipod”!

The last 30 minutes we walked in complete darkness, and realizing that we had packed my headlamp in with the tent, only had two sources of light for the three of us. Our final approach to the campsite was a swinging bridge over a torrential river, which was´n´t at all scary by day, but that late at night after a 27km day, it was a little unnerving! We were relieved to find Meg and Franklin already at their site, and after quickly putting up our tents, enjoyed a lovely meal of tuna and rice, for the moment forgetting our foolishness for the late start.

We began our 3rd day at a reasonable hour and began our traverse up the Valle Frances sans backpacks. All through the night we had heard what we thought was thunder rumbling. Now we saw that the source of the thunder, was not lightning, but avalanches of snow and ice tumbling and crashing down the faces of the huge peaks around us. They put on quite a display for us all morning, cracking and creating huge plumes of powdered snow, and ¨”waterfalls” of snow. This valley was very awe inspiring, and we were rewarded for our tough hike from the day before with magnificent views and clear skies (again!) At the half way point, the group stopped to rest and take pictures. However, I wanted to go a little further, so Sven and I continued on for another hour or so to get a closer look at the top of the valley, while the group rested below. Heading back down to camp we quickly packed away the tents, ate a little lunch and strapped on our backpacks for the 3.5 hour sojourn to Los Cuernos, our lakeside camping destination for night 3.

The views here changed significantly to more rolling green hills-shrubbery and the beautiful lake and shores to our right. Several times, the trail led out onto a rocky beach which made for an interesting change of pace. Taking our time we arrived at the Refugio in time for one of the most delicious things a hiker can think of after a long hard day of hiking in the sun – a cold beer! We all raised our cans in unified joy.

That evening, we decided to treat ourselves to the dinner available to purchase at the refugio. First, we had to sneak into the showers which were not intended for use by the campers. The trick was just to look like you belonged there. Since the girls´ shower was separated from the men´s with a high wall, we had a fun time throwing my towel over to Sven for him to borrow (he had forgotten to bring one!). Add giggles.

After spending 20 minutes looking for Britta´s camera, and many games of “Shick shnack schnook” (which is German for rock paper scissors) to decide which of us was getting out of the tent to dislodge a rock that was jutting into Britta´s back, and who was going to fetch Britta´s water, we managed to get to sleep: after some very needed rubbies provided by me!
That night, we had the only rainfall of the entire trip. Hard to believe, no? Didn´t even have to get out the famous rain gear!

We set off on our fourth day with some trepidation: this was going to be the hardest day of the trek (the question was…”To be…..or what? in a Sylvester Stallone accent….you may have had to be there!), and all to be completed with our full backpacks! Once again, the scenery was refreshingly different, and we had to cross a couple of rivers in the morning. By mid afternoon the sun was beating down on us and we eagerly awaited the arrival of the secret trail that was a shortcut up to Campamento Torres. That shortcut led along the left flank of a beautiful little lake which we began to walk around. Shortly into the hike we met two older hikers coming out of the trail, saying that it was far too muddy for them to continue. Unfazed, we trod on through the slightly wet ground to the lake shore…we had decided to go swimming! What is a trip to Torres Del Paine without the obligatory half naked swim in a glacially fed lake?? The water actually felt really good and refreshed our hot tired sweaty dirty bodies…hmmm that sounds weird doesn´t it? After our swim, we laid out on our sleeping pad and happily dried off in the glorious sunshine.

Having taken such a lazy break in the day, it was even tougher completing our 3 1-2 hour slog up to Campamento Torres – our destination for the night before our pre-dawn summit day to the viewpoint of the Torres themselves. Going was pretty tough, lots of ups and downs, and just when you thought you were done…more ups!! Again, happy to get to camp, we washed by the river, set up camp and made a nutritious dinner of lentils, rice, tuna and spices. It was my idea to make creamy rice pudding after with the leftover rice, and that turned out to be a real hit! Delicious. We then all prepped our bags for our early morning, packing just coffee and breakfast, and room for throwing in our sleeping bags and pads to truly set up for the view.

Getting up at 5:30am was very strange but very exciting. Off we set into the darkness with our headlamps lighting our path…following the long line of headlamps that stretched up up up before us in a lighted procession showing the way to the base of the famous Towers. The morning air was bitterly cold, but only wearing two layers, we quickly heated up due to the pitch of the climb – definitely the steepest of the trek. The last section was a scattering of loose gravel and gigantic boulders…. slowly being more and more illuminated by the pinkening sky.

Finally we were at the top..and all of our fears about the predicted cloudy weather were dissipated when we saw the towers fully exposed in all their majesty brilliantly clear against the dawn sky. Interestingly, every other part of sky around us was obscured by clouds, only the towers themselves were clear. Our luck was beyond belief!!

Eagerly, we found a gigantic rock to set up our sleeping bags on, got all cozy and made hot coffee and oatmeal. It is a meal I will not quickly forget. I have only felt a truly spiritual connection with somewhere in nature twice before in my life: Denali, and Uluru in Australia. This was the third. Truly “Nature Porn” -as Sven liked to call it!

We spent over two hours at the viewpoint taking an abundance of photos as the towers changed colors as the sunlight hit them in various places. Soon it was time to bundle back down to the campsite, pack up, and hurry down to Hosteria Torres in time for the 2pm shuttles back to the bus.
It was a relatively hitch free descent, only marred by our growing realization that our adventure was coming to a close. It had been marvellous, and our group had grown close.

Happily, we arrived an hour early – in enough blissful time to pack down some hot panini sandwiches and cold cold beer in the Hosteria´s restaurant. That meal brought tears to our eyes and glee to our aching muscles and smelly butts. Utterly magnificent.

In fact, we were all on such a high, that by the time I got on the minibus for our transfer, I was completely giddy and started singing at the top of my voice, dancing in my seat, and waving frantically at the hikers we passed on the road… Ah! Good fun!

And so ended our epic journey. We all promptly passed out on the 3 hour bus ride back to the hostels, and then took the best shower of our lives before going out for an enormous celebratory meal of steak and wine.

I must finish there as I seem to have gone on for quite long enough. If you stayed with me this long…I thank you for sharing the journey!!
I will write to you about my time in El Calafate and Buenos Aires when I get back to the States this weekend.

Hope to see you all soon!

Much love!

Chilean Adventure Part V

11 Tuesday Mar 2008

Posted by in Chile

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Friends,

Time is really starting to fly by on my trip and I find myself writing this to you from Puerto Natales, on my “prep” day before heading out on my 4-5 day backpacking adventure in the beautiful Torres Del Paine National Park.

I last left you in Pucon, after my horrific bus experience from Santiago. The following morning, I was all set to climb the mighty Volcano Villarica (2847 M). I awoke at 6am, ate breakfast, packed my lunch and set out into the dawn to walk to the guide company´s office. There was a strange sense of camaraderie on the streets that morning, since the only people out and about were fellow volcano climbers and all acknowledged one another with a small nod of solidarity.

After a bumpy 45 minute van ride to the mountain´s base, we were told that the winds were just too strong to make it a safe climbing day. The chairlift was not working either, making it at least a 5 to 5 1/2 hour ascent. Gloomily, we all got back in the van and headed back down to the city.

Fortunately, I met up with a few people that morning who were interested in doing a day hike to Huerquehue (wer–ke-we) national Park instead, home of the magnificent Monkey Puzzle tree. The guides arranged a taxi, we went off to our hostels to pick up our swim suits, and met back at the shop an hour later. Sole, a Chilean Winemaker from Santiago, Ileana a Marine Biology student from Sweden, Max a Viticulturist from France, and myself made up our happy little group.

It was a gloriously hot sunny day, belying the blowing winds atop the crater all day. Off we headed into the forest for the 7km walk to Lago Verde. Once there, we all laid out in the sun and enjoyed our packed lunches. The girls were ready to stay and relax, but Max and I were eager to check out the other lakes further up the trail. It was an additional 2 hour loop, but well worth it for the additional views and greater density of the Monkey Puzzle trees: I was so tempted to take a baby tree and pack it in my contact lens case back to the states, to grow it in my living room!

Back at the lake, we swam and laid out in the hot late afternoon sun for a glorious couple of hours. I became fast friends with the girls, having the kind of intense and emotional conversation that you only experience back home with friends of many years. It again reminded me of the kind of bonds that can be formed in a short space of time while travelling.

Heading back down the mountain, and back to Pucon with our timely cab driver, we were all ready for some grub and beer! Not being able to decide on what to order, I suggested a group feeding. picking 4 items off the menu, we each in turn ate for 3 minutes and then passed the plates clockwise around the table until all the food was gone (or Max finished it). It was a very memorable meal indeed. Feeling exhausted from my 20km hike, and fearing exhaustion for our second volcano attempt in the morning, I left around 10pm and crashed into an intense sleep.

The next day we were blessed with incredible weather. My legs were a little sore from the previous days´ exertion, but I managed to keep a steady and strong pace. The ascent could be broken down into three sections…a rocky staircase of winding switchbacks, followed by a crampon-ice axe-necessary snow-ice section, and the final extremely steep loose rock-scree scramble to the summit. All in all, it was an approximate 5000 vertical feet ascent…a pretty tough climb, in not a great distance. However, as the climb progressed I began feeling better and fell into a rhythm. I was therefore mightily perturbed when the guides told me I had to stay behind when we reached the final section before the summit. They told me that I appeared tired and might hurt myself on the way down. I argued, albeit in Spanish, but they seemed unmoved. I was utterly furious. I felt great! So I pretty much told them that I was going, and they´d have to physically stop me. That seemed to do the trick (later on, in the middle of the descent, my guide apologized for assuming i was tired…!!!) Other climbers were not so lucky, and one girl who received the same speech as me sat there and burst into tears. I felt really badly for her. I still don´t know why they pushed us so hard, and why they acted like this ascent was a race. I later found out that the restrictions are set up by the park service, Conaf, to try to minimize the risk of injuries. Even so, I summited a full hour before the designated last safe summit time! The true reasons will remain a mystery.

The exhilaration felt on arrival was stupendous and very quickly halted by the stink of sulphur. The gas emissions from the crater that day were particularly strong, and if I approached the crater to take a few snaps, it felt like I was being slowly suffocated, and a burning sensation hit your lungs and throat. I compensated by holding my breath and then running to the edge and back…! Fortunately, one of the other guided groups had been provided gas masks, and I happily borrowed one to be able to walk along the entire rim of the volcano and take in the views without suffering.

We took an entirely different route for the descent, and it was SO MUCH FUN! After the loose rock (where I banged up my knee pretty bad) we had at least 4 sections where we could glissade down the snow (literally sliding on our arses). It was super fun and you could really get up to some high speeds, controlling it with your ice axe. One section was a specially carved out section of 8 foot high ice, and careening down it felt more like a high speed disney ride than a volcanic descent. Way too much fun. I was screaming and laughing the whole way.

After ice came deep volcanic ash,which you could “jump” through, making the going extremely easy on the knees and relatively fast. I arrived at the bottom exhilarated but tired, covered in ash, and with a giant grin on my face. I´d made it!

After some time at the guide´´s office trying to console the crying hiker who had been denied the summit and listened (unlike me), I went home for a very needed shower (the water ran brown). I then met up with Sole, who hadn´t climbed with us, for Mojitos and food! Unfortunately, she was heading back to Santiago that evening…It was lovely meeting you Sole!! Stay in touch!
Meanwhile, my new Pachamama family was arriving at the hostel. Jorge greeted me with a giant hug. It was very good to see him again. Despite being tired, we headed out for a few beers with the rest of the group who all very eagerly asked me about the volcano. and what it had been like…

The following day, after a little lie in, I headed into town with Kathy (a pachamama passenger from the UK), to catch a bus to go white water rafting on the Upper Trawen river. It has class 3 and 4 rapids. It was the perfect day for the river, as it was overcast and raining pretty steadily. The volcano would have to wait for another day for the rest of the group. After getting kitted out in wetsuits, booties, shorts and helmets we carried the boats down to the river. Kathy and I were placed in a group of five, as there was an uneven number of people. This would have been fine except that it included an “injured” Chilean, who couldn´t paddle for shit, and a middle aged couple from mexico who paddled as if they were stirring tea with a spoon. I was pissed. Our six man vessel was essentially being maneuvered through very dangerous white water with Kathy, myself and the guide working very very hard. The mexican lady grew very afraid after only the first drop and essentially dropped her paddle, preferring to cower in the back of the boat mumbling to herself in fear. How could they have sold her this activity without explaining what it would be like, and the physical challenge it would present?? It was beyond me, and by the time she decided that her role was to re-shout the guides directions, and tell us to paddle stronger, I wanted to smack her in the mouth.

The next few drops were hair raising. Definitely the roughest water I´ve rafted through. Like being in the spin cycle of a washing machine. The Chilean man fell out, and I feared for his life. Luckily we managed to drag him back into the raft. At this point, I was a little fearful myself. This wasn´t safe. so when we had to navigate a portage a little down the river, I expressed my feelings to another guide and insisted that they put another strong person on our boat, which gratefully, they did. Most of us got the chance to jump about 20 feet into the river from a cliff after the portage. It was lots of fun…I yelled “Vive Chile“, shut my eyes, and jumped. What a rush.

The rest of the river was a little more tame, and I was reassured by having another set of strong arms helping us navigate. Great river though.

Now my arms and my legs were equally wrecked!

That afternoon, we recuperated and sat around the hostel whilst it poured and thundered outside. It felt very cozy and I remembered how much I missed thunderstorms. That evening, around 8pm, our group set out to the natural hot springs at Pozones, a set of 4 natural rock pools with varying temperatures from scolding to cool. We sat resting our aching muscles whilst sipping wine for a couple of chill hours. We sang songs. It was lovely.

We were supposed to head out the next day, but since the weather cleared up, Jorge decided to stay and let the group climb villarica. I was a little disappointed as I had already stayed in Pucon for five days, but I was happy when Jorge arranged for the 3 of us not climbing to go on another horseback ride. It was a beautiful ride through meadows overlooking the lakes and mountains around us. The horses were not as tame as the ones we´d been fortunate to ride in Pisco Elqui, these had quite a bit of spirit and needed a much more confident rider. My horse had an itchy tummy, and kept kicking himself in the stomach. He also hated being near the other horses and tried to kick any that came to close. He was also very eager to go fast, which all made for a very energetic riding experience. At the turnaround point, we dismounted and went on a short hike to an incredible cascading waterfall…it was as if I was in Hawaii, except a little cooler.

That evening we tentatively awaited the return of the pachamama family and they showed up looking worn out. 3 of them hadn´t made it to the top and there were some tears shed. we all piled on the bus, and I passed out donuts to everyone ( i knew how hungry they´d be and we had a 3 hour journey to Valdivia).

Getting to Valdivia around 9pm, only the hardy and strong showered and came back out for an epic meal at the Kunstmann brewery with fantastic German Fare. We ordered legs of pork, sausages, steaks, and a 2 1-2 litre jug of lager served in an epically tall glass complete with pour spout. Well fed, we all slept very well.

Which brings me to my rather uneventful day yesterday. I was sad as I knew i´d be leaving the group, but especially Jorge, whom I had grown to think of as a dear friend. In the morning we walked around the fish market and took pictures of the enormously fat sea lions that live off of the scraps the local fishermen throw out to them every day. Then we had a 2 1-2 hour drive to Puerto Montt, where I´d be catching my flight to Punta Arenas. We ate an amazing local lunch of Grilled Salmon, smothered with tomatoes, sausage, and melted cheese, then spent a little while walking around the handicraft market. I bought an angora sweater for $15!! After shedding some tears at my farewell, I jumped in a cab and headed to the airport.

I was pleasantly surprised by both airports in Puerto Montt and Punta Arenas. I was expecting bus shelter type buildings and was very impressed at how modern and efficiently designed they both were. I had an incredibly smooth flight and landed on time a few hours later. I went straight to the information desk and asked when the next bus was for Puerto Natales? The woman at the counter (whom I later found out was completely useless and stupid) told me that there was a bus in 15 minutes, but that it doesn´t come to the airport unless you have specifically requested that well in advance. She told me to take the bus going into the city first, and then there would be a bus at 8pm. I was already tired, so a little miffed, I loaded my bags on the bus and took my seat. Then I thought to myself, wait a minute!! With all those people on that flight…surely someone had made a reservation on the 18.30 bus! Following my gut instinct, I leaped off, grabbed my bags and ran to the public telephones to call the bus company. The phones didn´t work. The stupid woman was gone. I ran to the car rental counter and asked very sweetly if I could borrow their phone to ask if the 18:30 bus to Natales was coming by the airport…The gentleman was very kind and offered to call and ask them himself. Sure enough, I was correct and it was already en route to the airport, and I could buy my ticket on board! He showed me where to wait…and the bus arrived 10 minutes later!! The only issue was that with all my shit with me, I couldn´t easily go to the bathroom first (I ended up using the bus toilet, but it is a very traumatic experience as the toilet seat is on a lever system, and smacks you in the butt when you stand up after wiping yourself) and all of the airport shops were closed, so I couldn´t get a snack before the 3 hour bus ride. Nevertheless, I was very happy to be arriving around 21:30 instead of around midnight.

On arrival, I slogged my bags across town and checked into the erratic rock hostel, immediately surrounded again with like minded travellers from the US (it is a us run hostel), England and other parts of Europe. After crashing my bags down on my bed, I went downstairs, got a restaurant recommendation, asked everyone in the common area if anyone was up for some food, and joined by my brand new Irish companion, headed off for a late supper. I had the most exquisite asparagus soup and chicken stuffed avocados. Yum! Clo was a really spitfire too, and we shared some great stories of our adventures thus far.

Coming “home” (that´s what this place feels like), I changed into Pj´s and stayed up to watch “Collateral” with my hostel buddies, and the hostel Kittie all happily spread out and purring on my chest. Ahhhhhh….a good end to a travel day.

Today I am essentially getting ready for my backpacking trip: getting gear ready, supplies, bus tickets, finding a hiking partner, writing emails (this one!) etc etc. I hope you´ve enjoyed reading as much I have enjoyed writing…and I look forward to updating you upon my return from one of the greatest hikes in Patagonia!

Signing off from Southernmost place on earth I´ve ever been.

Chilean Adventure Part IV

05 Wednesday Mar 2008

Posted by in Chile

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Much has happened these past few days… Today marks 2 weeks since I left home. Again, it feels as though months have elapsed. I´ve fallen into a whole new way of thinking…a Chilean way of thinking… Mmmmm.

So, I last left you with our glorious night of camping under the stars in Pan de Azucar National Park. The next day I was supposed to leave our little “family”, (we really had grown very close to one another – its always said that two days travelling with someone is like a time warp of several weeks in normal life!) and I was growing very sad at the prospect. It was a very long drive to La Serena- we were due to get there at 6pm, and my bus was at 10-30pm. Around 4pm, it hit me! I would stay the next two days…get back to Santiago and then just take another regular bus to Pucon. I´d only miss one day in Pucon, and I´d still be able to jump onto the next Pachamama bus headed south on the Sunday…. Done!

I told Jorge, who thought I was nuts because I´d forfeit a $40 bus ticket, but I thought to myself, hell, I´ve spent more than that on meals back home that I haven´t enjoyed…this was what I wanted. He made all the arrangements, I was overjoyed at my ingenuity and we drove on to the beautiful Elqui Valley and the town of Vicuna.

Our hostel in Vicuna was extremely atmospheric and cozy. It was a dark wood, really old building with beautiful courtyards filled with avocado trees, flowers, and plenty of hammocks for weary travellers. I loved it!! And it had hot showers. I just love how simple pleasures like this fill your heart with joy when you travel.

After a quick shower, and what Jorge liked to call “fashion emergency”, we all met up to head over to the Mamalucca observatory. Unfortunately, I had head into town to find an internet cafe, and upon failing to do so, realized that I was running late for the bus. With visions of being left behind, I ran at full speed through the busy streets towards what I thought was the meeting place…and I just made it in time, covered in sweat and breathing hard. What a relief! I didn´t even have a key in order to get back into the hostel!

Chile is home to some of the worlds´most powerful telescopes, and many were found in the Elqui valley due to its unique climate that allows for extremely clear nights to gaze at the southern skies… We all arrived and joined the English speaking tour which was being given by a rather robotic, clearly astronomically nerdy, man. Jorge told me later that the Pachamama guides call him C-3PO. By the end of the evening, the android like way he delivered his English Monologue had me in stitches. Others didn´t find it so funny, but hey, I´m used to that by now!

We all gathered in the dark in the upper levels of the observatory to take turns looking into the telescope, to peer at Mars, Saturn, Orion´s belt, and young star clusters among others….It was very fascinating. We then gathered in the auditorium to receive some astronomical lessons:formation of galaxies, supernovas, cluster galaxies, nebula’s, our sun, nuclear fission etc etc etc. You get the idea. By this point it was about 10:45pm and I hadn´t eaten since 1pm. I started feeling rather giddy and stupid – Christina gave me a few minty sweets and that helped my blood sugar spike a little. But it didn´t help the fact that I was finding C3PO funnier by the minute…We were finally “released” around 11:30 – and met up at…wait for it…the CAFETERIA! There had been a CAFETERIA all along!! Jesus. Christine and I bought a sandwich together and wolfed it down in one bite.
We then headed into town for “dinner” – which was ordered at little after midnight like it was nothing unusual. I ordered a very typical dish of Cazuela – chicken, rice and vegetables in a delicious broth. As usual, I ordered the “small” portion and a bowl came that could feed 4 people. I sigh. Luckily, as usual, Martin was there to eat what I couldn´t. Thanks Bru!…for all those times you were my human garbage disposal and helped me not get any fatter!

A little after 1:30am, it was time to go dancing for our Last NIGHT out on the town together. We went to a local discotheque and danced to disco and a very latin American rhythm known as Regaton -kind of a mix between reggae, hip hop and rap. It gets the hips moving without even trying….After dancing for a few hours, I was ready to collapse….but no….we all bought beer and pisco and took it to the back garden of the hostel and sat listening to hilarious stories Jorge told us of previous Pachamama trips that had gone awry -such as the time all of his guests got naked and ran down the streets of Puerto Varas, when someone put superglue in his eyes because he thought the bottle was eye drops, to when his parents joined them right here in Vicuna and got more drunk than the rest of the group, and his friends asked why he was bumping and grinding on the dance floor with the larger older woman? As fucking hysterical as Jorge is: I really want to meet his parents after listening to his stories. It was the kind of night where laughter was completely uncontrolled and tears flowed freely as we clutched our stomachs into the wee hours of the morning. Thank you Jorge – for your AMAZING storytelling. I will recount these for years to come…

The next day we all headed out for a day of “ACTIVITIES”!! We started with a tour of a local Pisco Distillery. Since I was still feeling a little sketchy…talking about alcohol production just made me more queasy. By the time the tastings rolled around, however, I felt ready to try out the new Pina Colada mixes….yum!

We then drove down to Pisco Elqui, listening all the while to Jorge´s narrative about how the area is famous for its UFO sightings. Apparently, hundreds of animals have been found dead in this region, with one hole in their neck, completely drained of blood, and then found lined up in a straight line in the fields the next morning. Very eerie, these “Chupacabras!” as they are known in Chile.

The views in this particular area supported why Jorge had expressed this to be the place where he eventually wants to live, and why it is his favorite day on the tour. 5000m Andean peaks for 360 degrees, and a lush green valley with rivers, grape vineyards and picturesque little villages, such as Pisco Elqui. We were treated to an amazing horse back ride with a true Chilean cowboy, a “huasco”. I can´t remember his name, unfortunately, but he looked like a western movie star, complete with Chilean chaps, wide brimmed hat, and massive spurs. His horses were beautiful, and we were all matched according to experience-temperament. Surprise, surprise, Jorge is a gifted horseback rider as well (is there anything you can´t do? – I asked Jorge later, to which he responded, to my relief, that he wasn´t good at ocean sports!) and he gave us some very direct and wonderful instructions on how to control our steeds and get exactly what we wanted out of them, by ensuring they understood who was in charge.

It was definitely the most comfortable I´d been on horseback. It was a surreal experience, riding high up into the hills and then letting the horses gallop free, our hair blowing in the wind, the green valley below. I can´t wait to share the photos with you.

After a few hours we were all a bit sore in the inner thigh, and ready for some refreshment (lunch at 4pm – again!). Jorge took us to an amazing restaurant that made freshly squeezed juices in wonderfully strange combinations such as strawberry mint, and carrot banana (yes, Bru that one was the best!).

We were all a bit knackered at this point and ready to slip into a food and hangover induced coma. A few hours relaxing by a pool seemed the perfect antidote. So we all headed over to a private hotel pool and drank in the early evening shade.

Well, if I had thought that the horse ride was to be the only highlight of my day, then I was sorely mistaken!! We were all a little disappointed at the smaller size of the circular pool that was occupied already by several smallish kiddies, until Ruan suggested that we get in and create a mini whirlpool. I had no idea what he was talking about and I was happy laying on my sun lounger. A few minutes later I looked up to see about 10 of us in the pool, all running in a circle, creating this centrifuge of water that became a moving force in its own right and carried all the human bodies around in a circle at an effortlessly fast pace. It looked like fun – so I jumped on in.

I can honestly say that I laughed for at least 1/2 an hour. It was the strangest thing, to be carried around this pool at high speed and see the little kids finally getting it, and yelping in delight, their parents standing overhead extremely bemused at what they hell we were doing. All I can say is that I got some video footage of this anomaly, and it is definitely youtube material. You can find a copy of this attached to this blog..

Wow- what a day. I can´t believe I was willing to trade this for a 48 hour bus experience. Thank God I changed my mind!

We all were given the evening at leisure, and experienced what inevitably always occurs when you´ve been on a guided tour for a while: getting weirded out because you´ve forgotten how to make a decision for yourself on what to do. Jorge had been telling us when we could pee and¨”caca” (as he liked to call it) for the past week…and now we had an entire evening to do what we pleased! Shilpa and I decided to do some hand laundry and wander into town to an internet cafe…where I wrote Chilean Adventure part III! – before heading back and literally melting into our sheets.

Monday. It was our last day as a family, and the mood was very sombre. We made one stop en route back to Santiago – at the beautiful Frei Jorge National Park, which boasts a micro climate that creates a mini rainforest in the middle of arid desert. Driving back into the city, we were reminded of the bad air quality which was currently being worsened by a huge forest fire raging in Vina del Mar. Shilpa and I got off at the Happy House Hostel around 730pm and said our sad goodbyes. At least I knew I´d be seeing Jorge again on Friday night in Pucon!! Otherwise, Jorge, I would definitely have wept sad tears….

I immediately emailed Tui that I had arrived, and after a quick fashion emergency (I´m using this phrase from now on!) Shilpa, she and I went out for some dinner. We stopped at the Casa Roja in order for me to book my next Pachamama segment from Pucon, and low and behold – the family was there drinking beers! So we ended up spending one more evening together sharing stories and laughter. Tui and I caught up on our trip and her week getting prepared to start her semester of university. I am so very excited for her.

Later one, Shilpa, Tui and I walked to her new house to see what she had done to her room. It was really coming along, and I was glad to see how warm and homey Tui had made it. You´re going to have an incredible year, Tui and I can´t wait to come back next year and go to Venezuela and Ecuador with you!

This brings me to my ordeal of yesterday. After a sad farewell to Shilpa (have an amazing time in the Amazon jungle – I´ll see you the next time I´´m in the UK!!) I took a cab to the bus station for my 11 hour bus odyssey to Pucon. I got settled in my seat and was about to start reading my book, when I noticed a beeping sound, akin to an alarm clock going off at an irritating 5 o clock in the morning. I thought…where is this coming from? Then I noticed this machine that had a scrolling red lettered computerized announcement screen that read, in Spanish of course: we are working hard for your safety. This bus transmits information via satellite as to the speed of the bus.” Then, apparently, every time the driver went over 100km per hour, the fucking machine would start beeping, and the sign read “the driver has surpassed the speed limit. Please inform the driver of this, or alternatively, you can report this danger at 660 -6788”.

Well, as far as I was concerned, the only danger lay in driving the bus of passengers to homicide by insistently beeping in their eardrums like an alarm clock every 10 seconds for 11 fucking hours. And it didn´t help that there was also a giant sign which read “it is forbidden to talk to the driver whilst the bus is in motion.” What the fuck? Within half an hour, I was getting slightly irritated, at two hours I was ready to ask some of the other passengers, to please, for God´s sake bring the matter to the conductor´´s attention, and by four hours, I was ready to use my own fucking Spanglish to communicate my growing anger. I couldn´t believe that I seemed to be the only person who this was driving nuts. At one point, an older woman got up and knocked on the driver´s window, and I thought “Yes! I am saved!¨”, only to hear her ask for the air conditioning to be turned off. Great. Now I would be tormented and hot to boot. A nice man took pity on me at hour four, and spoke to the conductor on my behalf. After that the beeps seemed to only come once a minute, and I was able to take a nap. But after an hour, we stopped in Los Angeles, and they changed the bus driver!!!!!!!!!!!!! AH!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

I have to say, this experience really forced me to take my Spanish to the next level. By the end of my bus trip, I had learned to say:
Please help me. Can the driver please slow down? I don´t care how fast he drives, but I care about this noisy thing! Which the driver can´t even hear!
Please. Everyone else can talk to one another, but this is the only thing I can hear. And theres no radio. And you´re not playing a movie. I am going crazy.
And then understood the response- apparently, the machine was broken, and it beeped anytime the bus went over 85km. Since the driver had to go just under 100km in order to get everywhere on schedule, he had no choice but to set off the alarm…
My response: why punish the passengers for the driver going too fast? And no one is picking up their phones to complain!
OK. Can I please move seats? I can´t take this.

So…I was allowed to switch assigned seats to the very back of the bus, where with the aid of earplugs smashed into my ear canal a good inch further than they´re supposed to, and trying to practice a yogi form of meditation, I was finally able to block the incessant noise from my active consciousness…with only about two hours left in the journey.

On arrival, around 10:30pm, I had calmed down considerably, and apart from a monumentally sore ass.. I was in one piece and eager to find my hostel.

Sorry to write so much about the fucking bus, but I think its a great story and I am still incredulous that it happened.

The hostel is wonderful – like a real family wooden chalet with large sofas, sloped roofs, comfy beds with warm comforters, free Internet (yay!), and a very homey feel. On entry, the owner simply said to me – Ah! You have a reservation. Here is your room, here are the clean towels, bathroom. Help yourself to the kitchen, and enjoy your stay! What about payment? Oh, you can pay on the last day of your stay….no questions, no id checking, no credit card deposit, just pure trust. I was not in Santiago any more.

After a quick trip to the supermarket, I made myself a giant salad (i´ve been eating nothing but carbs and shit for the past two days), watched Chocolat, and chatted to the late arriving south tour Pachamama folks, whom I would have been travelling with had I joined the tour on Sunday as I was supposed to.

Today, I´ve decided to take a day of rest…imagine! I´ve been on “vacation” for two weeks and operating at a pace that rivals any tough week at work!!! (the owner of the hostel has just handed me a giant slice of watermelon…I love the hospitality here!!) I slept in till 10, made breakfast, sent off some laundry and then sat down to write this…hence the length -sorry! This afternoon, I´m heading into town to book my trip tomorrow to climb the Volcano, and for river rafting on Saturday. Friday I´ll go by bus to the nearby national park Huerqueque -home of the monkey puzzle tree for a lovely day hike. For the first time, I find myself alone…but I am quite glad for it!

I will write again in a few days. Hope you have enjoyed travelling virtually around Chile with me.

Ciao for now,

Anita

Chilean Adventure Part III

02 Sunday Mar 2008

Posted by in Chile

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So, where did I leave off? I believe that I was in Antofagasta about to head into the Atacama desert. What day was that? This trip has been so amazing, I can´t believe its only been 8 days since we left…absolutely insanely wonderful and beautiful.


So…the next morning we headed north on the highway.towards the dry of the desert, and the oasis of Peine. Along the way we stopped at a viewpoint overlooking the SALT Flats, these incredible stretches of SALT parched ground spreading as far the eye could see all the way to the Bolivian border. Surrounding this vast white valley floor were 5 and 6000 metre peaks, 8 of which are active Volcanoes. Stunning. Simple stunning. We stopped several times for pictures of unlikely poses set against the amazing landscape.


Alter several hours we arrived in Peine – a tiny village of about 400 inhabitants who are descendants of the original altiplano peoples – the Atacamans. After getting extremely hot and sweaty walking around town visiting the original centuries old hieroglyphic type cave art and the fort ruins, we all welcomes a swim in the town´s only lake- being fed by a mountain stream from the Andes, which, unfortunately is the dwindling water supply for the community. The mining extraction of Lithium in the area, being done solely by US companies, is diverting much of the water from the local´s water supply so as to avoid having to pipe it in from the sea. It is a very sad state of affairs. This town might have to be abandoned in the next few years…


Anyway, it was very refreshing and we had lots of fun judging a diving contest that all the guys used to show off their fine skills.


After another several hours in the bus, we arrived at La Reserva de los Flamingos – a national reserve for Flamingos, who live here in the few lakes that exist on the flats, eating a rich diet of Brine Shrimp. The birds were majestic as they flew against a reddening sky…we stayed there and watched the sun setting over the Andes.


Another 2 hours brought us to our most northern destination – the little town of San Pedro De Atacama, in the middle of the desert and gateway to Bolivia. After a quick shower we all headed out as a large group for dinner. We were all passing out from hunger, but it seems that Chilenas do not blink an eye at eating dinner at 1030pm. The food was amazing as usual, with ridiculously sized portions. Luckily, Ice Bru has become my human garbage disposal unit, and happily eats whatever I can´t. Great for avoiding temptation. Eating very late has become somewhat of a pattern on this trip – last night we sat down for food at 12:30am!!!


That night we all bought Pisco and drank around the FIRE at the hostel. Jorge had arranged a “private Party” for most of the group to go to, but I opted for an early night at 2am!!! That is considered “early”! Most of the peeps staggered in around 6am…


The next day, Thursday, we were free to spend as we pleased in San Pedro. After wandering around the town and having breakfast, a few of us decided to rent mountain bikes and venture out to visit the Inca Fort and a mountain bike destination known on our maps as The Devils Gorge. It sounded promising.


Well, it was more than promising. The scenery, quite frankly, was utterly inspirational. Tall red dusty rocks and towering mountains in the dry dry heat. It was extremely hot and you have to pile on sun screen like your life depends upon it. Devils Gorge turned out to be these very unique, narrow and maze like rock formations that you could cycle around, sometimes carrying your bike over narrow stretches, going deeper and deeper into the gorge. At one point, we had to cross the river – and there was nothing for it but to just go full speed through the water, hoping the current didn´t take the wheels out from under you.


The gorge was the most fantastic thing I´ve experienced thus far on the trip. I remembered how excited I could get at wondrous natural rock phenomenon , and was openly whooping at every corner as the scenery unveiled itself. It was the perfect morning adventure.


As it was getting late, the four of us turned back and pedalled madly back into town, picking up some needed nourishment in the form of cheese and tomato empanadas – fast becoming my favorite snack in Chile.


That evening, Jorge took us on a tour of a place called Valle de la Luna, or Moon Valley in English. It is an amazing array of sand dunes, caves, rocks, and mountains that set against the pink of the dying sun made the soul just soar. We began with hike and a free climb up some rocks and into a cave that opened up to a kind of mini canyon. If you stood silent you could hear the rocks cracking under the intense pressure of the suns rays.


We then donned headlamps and got down and dirty in a set of caves that serpentine for about a mile. At one point, I was crawling on my belly and trying not to smack my head in the overhangs, and fighting claustrophobia along the way…a little scary but fun nonetheless.


We then huffed and puffed, exerting our tired, hungover, altitude plagued little bodies up an 500 metre sand dune to get a good spot to drink in the sunset. After at least an hour taking way too many silly photos, we all shut up and gawked at the colors the dying sun splashed onto the rock below. Beautiful.


Driving back to town, we quickly changed and headed out for dinner. Jorge took us to a wonderful local restaurant where we were serenaded by a local Chilean mountain folk group who played the flute, and the wind pipes. They had us all on our feet, I practically threw up my dinner at the vigor in which we were moved to dance. This band didn´t just play music, they knew how to perform and performed with a lot of passion. Good times were had by all.

Since it was only 1am as we finished, we all put in money for a booze kitty and then headed out by the river to have bonfire party. Some locals joined in the fun, and soon we were all laughing so loud I was sure the police would come and break up the festivities. I have to say, I got particularly tipsy on this evening and had much fun laughing at the top of my lungs. It turned out to the perfect end to what was the best day of the trip thus far, as well as perhaps one of the top ten travel days I´ve ever experienced.

Leaving the next morning at 8am was extremely painful and we all nursed our hangovers and sleep deprived bodies on the long long long 800km drive that day to the Pan Azucar National Park on the coast of Chile.

Several uneventful stops, and hours of butt numbing bus riding later, we arrived in the Park. It is a stunning piece of coastline which boasts a seasonal burst in wildflowers that draws scientists from all over the world. We were going to be camping on the beach, and I got to try out the tent I had brought…Thank you Yancy darling!!! I loved it!

After a freezing cold shower to remove all the crap and dust and shit in my crevices, we had dinner at a small neighborhood fisherman´restaurant and feasted on the catch of the day. It was spectacular. Afterwards, we all built a fire on the beach and laughed and shared stories till our sides were splitting from the pain of laughter. The evening ended with a memorable “puppet¨show featuring our bus buddy, BOB!! Bob was being chased and accosted by his gay admirer, Pepe ( a stuffed Koala bear) who wanted Bob to let him experiment with alternative love. You may have just had to be there…but I nearly died laughing.

Well, that was supposed to be my last night on the Northern tour,,,, but the following day yielded a surprising turn of events. Unfortunately, my recalling of said events will have to wait until next time as I am falling asleep at the keyboard.

Love to you all, and I look forward to writing the next installment!

Anita