Wow I`ve been lazy with this thing... I believe I left off at Punto Arenas... Wow that was a while ago.
Ok, so we booked a ticket from Punto Arenas to Puerto Montt, which is about halfway between Tierra del Fuego and Santiago. The busride takes just over 30 hours, not just because there`s a good amount of latitude to cover, but because the region north of the Punto Arenas area is known as the "Southern Ice Fields", with a name of that magnitude it is no surprise that there are no roads through it. Look up that region on a map and you will see, it is composed of a partially submerged section of the Andes and is nothing but a bunch of islands. Although there is a ferry that goes north through these Ice Fields, US $500 or so seemed a little steep... So we took the thirty hour bus that takes you in a giant "C" into Argentina, not crossing back into Chile until we were actually North of Puerto Montt. It proved to be an interesting 30 hours as no matter where I sat (and I somehow managed to sit in 4 different seats) I was sitting right next to a very large woman who upon falling asleep seemed to deflate and take up 50% of my seat as well. It was a long 30 hours.
We decided to exit the bus early in a small lake town called Entre Lagos... What an amazing place! It was another of those places where we found that we were the ONLY foreigners. The town itself was quite small but clearly based upon tourism as it was situated on a gorgeous lake with crystal clear water that was the epitome of refreshing. The supermarkets here sold produce from local farms that was amazing! Especially the honeydew mellons. They tasted like they were made of pure sugar and made an excellent nightcap when filled with a white wine.
We spent 3 hours getting out of Entre Lagos and finally got a ride with an old guy in a pickup. I was in the back. He drove us straight to the bus station where we purchased tickets to Pucon... well, we couldn`t get tickets there that day so we settled on Villarica, which is only about 20 Km outside of Pucon. In my memory Villarica was much more interesting than Pucon though. We arrived there at about 9:00 at night.
I would have to say that Villarica has been my favorite town on this trip. The town itself is centered around tourism and has a very nice ski lodge feel, made all the more complete whith its background of a towering snow capped volcano. Although Tourism is clearly a large part of the towns income, there is also a large argicultural influence to the town, and we happened to arrive during some sort of farming carnival. The fair itself was amazing, complete with handicrafts, a small stock yards displaying the prized breeding goats, milking cows, and meat sheep. There was even a cow that made charges at its rickety enclosure in an attempt to protect its calf from anyone foolish enough to try and look at her baby. All this comprised only about half the fair, the other half was comprised of food, food, and more food. Lamb on a stake, legs of pork on the grill, and empanadas.
In Hawaii we have empanadas, but the empanadas that dominate the food market in America´s southern hempishere are very different. A far cry from thos delicious butter and sugar covered rolls available for $0.33 at the farmers market, South American empanadas are much closer to dumplings, only they`re about the size of your hand. They can be filled with nearly anything, and are either baked or fried. The deep fried ones are better, and develope a golden crispy crust that sits hard in your stomach. My favorite are the ones filled with salmon and cheese, and deepfried to perfection.
The animals weren`t the only thing on display. Once agian Lainick and I found ourselves objects of curiosity. This was another of those instances where we were porbably some of the only foreigners in town, and we were certainly the only ones at the fair. We were surrounded by a flock of niñas who would ask us a question or two and we would reply in our halting spanish, and then they would disappear in a fit of gigggles. They asked us easy questions so we could answer such as ¨what is your name?¨ ¨What is your birthday?¨ and ¨will you be my friend?¨ That last one sent them into fits of glewe at our positive response, and they quickly brought some of their friends, so they could be our friends too.
At the fair we also came across a stand selling local honey, and it rivaled even lehua honey in terms of sweetness and flavor. I still prefer lehua though. We also bought a 2 liter bottle of chicha. Apparently chicha seems to mean hootch, in any form. This particular variety was honey water that had just begun to ferment. This was the beginning of backpackers wine.
Argiculture had other influences in Villarica besides the fair, and there were stalls selling fresh fruit, eggs, and dairy. The fresh milk was clearly raw milk and was sold in old 2 liter soda bottles. It was whole and delicious. Sweet strawberries, grapes and fresh cheese also graced market stalls at prices chaeper than those of the supermarket.
We only spent one night in Villarica, albeit aunique and memorable one, before we headed further inland to the base of that majestic afformentioned volcano and the town of Pucon.
Pucon sits at the shore of Lago Villarice (Lake Villarica)and has a similar ski lodge feel to Villarica, but lacks the argicultural aspect. The town itself was cool, but was made unbelievable by our couch surfing hosts Kate and Tom. We met up with them in town, and they helped us get a Colectivo (kinda like a cab that will take you anywhere in town for one low price)back to their place. They showed us their abode and then took us to the beach to fly Tom`s kite. Now this isn`t a normal kite but a God among kites. Its a practice kite for kite boarding and is about 12 feet by 4 feet, and controlled by 2 lines on each side of the kite. The lines were attached to handles that you pulled to move the kite from one side to the other. I quickly got a feel for the kite, it felt like it was an extention of my body and I could feel the wind like it was a part of me. The wind slowly picked up and the kite quickly became more than a kite, but rather an agent of flight. The power band of the wind that day was about 45 degrees above the ground, and forcing the kite to fly though that zone earlier that day simply resulted in me being drug across the beach with my feet acting as skis. Once the wind picked up, a well timed move in and out of the power stip and a jump resulted in about 10 feet of air and 30 feet of horizontal travel. WHAT A RUSH!
Besides beaches and volcanos, Pucon also bosted good day hikes along one of the rivers. So, lainick on bicycles and myslef armed withmy running shoes we made out way to the river and enjoyed a good day hike. The river itself was beautiful, but not unlike rivers in the states. It was the massive amount of blackberries that surrounded the river that caught my attention and I wasted no time in gorging myself on fresh blackberries warmed by the sun. Throughout the hike we picked about 6 pounds of berries and brought them back to Kate and Toms place and made a mean blackberry crisp. We even flavored it with some of our chicha. Delicious. The blackberies that didn`t make it into the crisp were juiced, diluted, sweetened, and then completed with a bit of the chicha culture to start the fermentation. Mmmm... backpackers blackberry wine. While we were making this delicious brew we sampled out still bubbling honey wine... amazing!
We left pucon on another long bus ride up to Santiago, the capital of Chile. We found our couchsurfing hosts house, and went to meet one fo them (Philipe) for a lunch of the best fried empanadas I`ve had so far. We next went and explored the market to buy food for dinner for our hosts. Santiago has the cheapest food EVER! Ok, probably not as cheap as Bolivia, but $0.25 a pound for strawberries is unbelievable! Between this and the meat market (not as cheap as the produce, but still quite cheap) we got our food for dinner. That night I made a fruit salad and Nick made chicken schnitzel. The schnitzel was perectly thin and crispy, and I made a delicious pepper gravy to go along with it. Nobody in South America seems to have ever heard of gravy, and they treat it with skepticism until they try it. Then all skepticism is gone. The fruit salad is probably the best I`ve ever had. Not because the fruit was exceptional but rather because the salad was mostly strawberris and grapes. Very sweet and delicious.
Santiago also has a very large fresh fish market that is unbelievably cheap. Short neck clams work themselves out to $0.50 a pound, and whole salmon can be bought for about $2.00 a pound. In the middle of this piculant market are resturaunts all selling the smae thing at the same price, and all advertising that they are the best. Not only advertising it, but fololowing you around and harassing you to sit at their tables. When you decide to go to another resturaunt they get mad and shout obsenities such as ¨What!?!? You don`t like fresh?!?¨ The market was near total madness.
Long story short, we almost missed our bus out of Santiago. It was close.
We decided on another of those long busrides North where we would enter Bolivia. This bus ride included some of natures most spectacular scenery the Atacama Desert... oh wait, I`m sorry... by amazing I ment barren. The Atacama Desert of northern Chile is the driest place on earth and it shows it. There is NO life for hundreds of miles. Sand and dirt and rock dominate the landscape. There are no ne river beds, and even the very ancient ones show no signs of water. The only signs of life of any sort are tire tracks through the dirt, and the highway. Nothing else for hundreds of miles. Slowely the hills of sand give way to canyons and mountians, and in the distance you see a smear of green. That is the town of San Pedro de Atacama.
You quickly realize on the drive just how important water is to life. The desert has NO water, and there is therefore no life. In San Pedro there is a small stream, and consequently there is a town based around it. San Pedro marks the beginning of our actual travels. Chile and Argentina are essentailly first world countries, and they had either a European or American feel. They were different obvisously, but not that different. San Pedro marked the end to that and the start of something new. The whole town is made of mudbrick buildings that are sometimes covered in stucco and whitewashed. The town was much more like anything in Bolivia and nothing like Chile. The market there was intersting as well... people selling the normal fruits and vegtables, and others selling anything they thought they thought people would buy. Bathtubs, old coins, broken radios, corded drills without cords, cracked sinks. The town also had strict water regulatons. I felt that to be a little odd as we were in one of the driest places I`d ever been, and their policy of turning off the whole citys water at 10:00 was a little glutonous. We spent the day booking a trip north to the Salar Uyuni.
Bolivia here I come!
