Macarena Magic In The Andes

"Danny, where are we?" asked one of my friends while we slithered through the intimidating Andes Mountains on an unknown bus that zipped around carved and chiseled Chilean cliffs just outside of the capital with the hopes of finding a glacier. Yes, a glacier.

Crammed against the wobbling door, I pretended not to hear her question while I unsteadily positioned my iPhone against the window to get a video of this stomach-churning road and perhaps filter my fear by looking through a pixelated screen.

As I attempted to muster up a response to make it seem like I knew where the hell we were, the bus came to an abrupt stop. "This last!" hollered the driver in broken, but friendly English, realizing that the disoriented foreigners were the only ones still aboard.

Right away, we found signs indicating “active volcanoes,” a common sight in Chile, but nothing indicating where we were. Then, in the distance it appeared, that roadside café nestled into the Chilean cordillera, dawning a chalkboard mentioning empanadas and kneaded bread.

Inspired mainly by the hopes of finding humans in this mysterious, vacant, and volcanic town, we approached the café. Ducking under a little roof to get to the counter, we rang a golden bell and prayed someone would appear.

Soon, we met Carlos and Estel, the proud and welcoming owners of the nook they called Macarena Empanadas and immediately our relief changed to curiosity as we asked the question which I still had no answer to.

Moments later, we found out we were in San Gabriel, received a shiny map of the area, obtained detailed instructions on how to arrive to the glacier known as San Francisco which existed in the Monumento Natural El Morado Park, and perhaps most importantly, munched on the most savory seafood empanadas in the middle of what felt like a devoid desert.

Also, apparently a bus numbered 72 actually leaves to the park from Santiago every morning at 7:30 AM outside the Bellavista la Florida metro stop. Who knew!

Since we missed the bus, Carlos and Estel suggested we hitchhike. Finally, after a mountainous ride in the back of a pickup truck and four hours of hiking later, we finally stood beneath the glorious glacier resting at 2,500 meters in the middle of the hot and dry Andean landscape. Drinking the fresh, frigid glacial water topped off the ultimate ride, but in the end, we found that sometimes the most memorable discoveries exist in the journey.

I’ll take two seafood empanadas, please!