Chile - Patagonia

Patagonia in the far south of Chile, wild, remote and bloody difficult to get to. Our airline had revised all their schedules over new year, and decided to cancel our intended flight from Temuco near Villarica to Punto Arenas. We therefore started our journey with a flight back to Santiago for a connecting flight in the middle of the night to Punto Arenas. This meant travelling 700 kms north when we actually wanted to head south. Our flight arrived at 3:30 a.m. and we made it to our hotel at 5:00 a.m. only to be told that we couldn’t stay there as they’d had some plumbing problem and didn’t have any suitable rooms. They transferred us to a nearby hotel. We weren’t too amused as we were totally exhausted and due to leave at 11 a.m. for a 3 hour drive to Puerto Natalas which was our final destination in Patagonia. We were losing our sense of humour by the time we checked into the alternate hotel when the receptionist, in all seriousness, gave us our voucher for a free welcome drink – priceless.

A bit later that same day we set off to Porta Natales across a flat plain strewn with the ash white corpses of blown over trees intermingled with a few living trees stooped over like withered old men. During the summer Patagonia endures constant strong winds that always blow from the west due apparently to the difference in land temperature between the icy Antarctic and the relatively warm South American continent, causing all the vegetation is bent to the east.

We finally arrived at Puerto Natales, a small fishing town on the shore of one of the countless fjords peppering Patagonia. The south of Chile looks as if God dropped it from a great height and it shattered on impact with the Earth.

We were staying in another, all inclusive ‘adventure resort’ – boot camp number two.

We decided that we needed a quiet day after our journey, so we booked a sedentary cruise to the nearby Serrano glacier. Before long we had disembarked from our hydrofoil and were walking towards a blue white river of ice that terminated at a small lake of glacial water liberally sprinkled with chunks of ice slowly melting in the summer sun. Quite a sight! We’d seen a glacier before but not one that pushed right down into the ocean.

We set off in the afternoon for a 3 hour trek nearby. We’d asked for a gentle walk to ease ourselves into things but found ourselves huffing and puffing up a near vertical slope for the first 40 minutes or so. The trail did level out after a while and we had a very enjoyable and peaceful walk with some fantastic views. At this time of year every plant, bush and tree seemed to be flowering or bearing fruit, and there was incredible variety. We ended our hike at the famous Milodon cave, where in 1895 the remains of a giant sloth were found by a German settler. Many expeditions followed to try and find and capture one of these animals alive but, alas, they were already extinct. The cave where the remains were found is huge, 30m high, 90m wide and over 200m deep. A life size model of a Milodon adorned the entrance to the cave towering over visitors at 4 metres high.

In the bar that night we ran into 2 Americans from Chicago. We got chatting and were soon swapping stories like old friends. We sat down to dinner together, the wine flowed, and before we knew it was extremely late. No problem, we’re on holiday, but unfortunately we’d booked in for a major trek the next day with an early start. We finally trudged off to bed and what seemed like moments later, the alarm went. Mags’ resolve was weakening a bit. I could tell because she was saying things like “Let’s not bother going”. Somehow, we hauled ourselves out of bed and assembled in reception. Our fellow hikers looked to be in their early twenties. This is going to hurt, we both thought.

The drive to Torres del Paine national park takes about 2 hours which mercifully gave us some time to catch up on our sleep. A large part of the way is by dirt road but they are currently building a metal road which should be open for the next season and will cut the travel time in half. The park itself is a range of twisted mountain peaks of granite and sedimentary rock called the Paine Massif.

The walk starts with some serious uphill walking for about an hour. We were soon sweating pure cabernet sauvignon. The group bounded ahead while we ‘experienced’ walkers protected the rear. We ended up hiking with a young Chilean girl who happened to be the guide’s girlfriend who he’d brought along. It was her first trek and she was struggling a bit. I don’t think she had any idea what she’d let herself in for. The next 2 hours were a lot easier walking up or down gentler slopes but with more up than down, following the river below upstream. Eventually we came to a resting place where the guide passed around a few energy snacks in preparation for the final climb. Soon he shouted enthusiastically, “Ready to attack the Massif?” A Massif attack, in fact. The last hour is a one in three, brutal slog up and over a field of boulders left behind by the retreating glacier 15 thousand years ago. But the reward at the top is worth every step; opposite our vantage point, three granite towers rose vertically out of a huge black shelf of rock, piercing the cold blue sky. Small streams were coming from a glacier at the foot of the towers, flowing over the rock shelf before cascading down to a blue green lake below in a series of small waterfalls. It is an amazing, jaw dropping sight. We stretched out to enjoy the view and had an unforgettable picnic. We were extremely lucky with the weather as it is usually very windy here, but we were blessed with a calm, sunny day.

Day 3. We needed some recovery time so we booked a morning tour of the town. The schedule included a visit to an old meat packing factory which is an apparent highlight of Puerto Natales, which gives you some idea of how much there is to do in the town. Actually, the factory was very interesting. No, really. Built in 1913 by the British to process and export the bountiful cattle. Everything for the factory had to be imported from Blighty, even the bricks that were from Glasgow. Much of the old, imperial engines are still in situ, and make an impressive sight even in 2007, huge iron and steel machines from London, Sheffield, and Coventry. The kind that we’d only ever seen in the Science museum before.

We finished with another ‘gentle’ walk which, as usual, turned out to be a bit more strenuous than billed. But, away from the Torres del Paine national park, there is no-one around, and we had the place to ourselves. We had another enjoyable picnic at the top of hill with yet more stunning views of lakes and mountains sipping Mate tea which is popular brew taken by the Gauchos. It tastes like Islay whiskey, but without the alcohol.

We said goodbye to Stalag number 2 and embarked on the cruise ship Via Australis, for a 3 day tour around the southern fjords.

We sat down to dinner on the first day and met the three mad Finish dentists, Magnus, Ari, and Varni. They’d escaped the Northern winter to come to a place that’s like – well – Finland. Except that the booze is cheaper. Free, actually, on this ship as it is another all inclusive package. They kept us all entertained at the bar each evening singing at the top of their voices.

Our first shore excursion was to visit a colony of elephant seals. The seals were a bit shy but we got a good glimpse on landing; just like large seals unsurprisingly but a magnificent sight nevertheless.

Our guide led us inland for an easy forest walk. The light was extraordinary, seeming to make the foliage glitter, and the green colours dazzlingly vivid and intense. At the end of the walk the crew had whiskey waiting for us on the rocks with glacial ice. It was only 10:00 a.m. – it was that kind of cruise. I think the crew kept plying us with alcohol in the hope that we wouldn’t notice how bad the food was, which was so terrible that it was bordering on genius. We had great fun during meals playing guess the soup. The highlight of our first excursion was courtesy of mad Magnus who decided to strip off for a quick swim. There were large chunks of ice floating in the sea around him so the water was literally freezing, but he just jumped in and starting singing - bonkers.

We unfortunately had to miss one of the highlights of the cruise, a visit to a penguin colony, due to the weather as the sea was too rough to launch the Zodiacs. We managed one more excursion to the Pia glacier where we saw chunks of ice crashing into the sea while sipping the always available whiskey - medicinal, of course. We sailed through the Beagle channel on our last afternoon, through the ‘valley of the glaciers’ passing the Spanish, French, Italian, German, and Holland glaciers. I felt slightly miffed that there was no English glacier, but it was glacier heaven all the same.

The cruise was the end of our Patagonian adventure. We didn’t run into any of the natives that speak Welsh, which is just as well as the only Welsh I know is “I like ice cream”, and it was a bit cold for that.

Argentina next. Don’t mention the war!

Chile Ratings

Food 7 (Excluding the cruise)
Scenery 10
Length 10

Chile - Lakes

I think I’ve developed a Bolivian accent. Whenever I use my recently acquired Spanish, the Chileans look at me incredulously.

We’ve moved south in search of some peace and tranquillity after our desert boot camp. We’re in the Chilean lake district, although the weather is more Mediterranean than Cumbrian. We’re situated on the shore of lake Villarica, which is just about equidistant between the towns of Pucon and Villarica. The skyline is dominated by a snow capped volcano also called, confusingly, Villarica. This volcano is also active, continually blowing a steady stream of smoke into the air.

The area is a holiday spot for Chileans, with relatively few foreign tourists. There are lots of palatial holiday homes owned by wealthy families from Santiago adorning the shores of the lake. The town of Pucon is completely focused on tourism with the streets lined with travel agents, restaurants, bars and hotels. It reminded me a bit of Queenstown in New Zealand.

Still hungry for adventure, we signed up for some white water rafting the next day. In the morning, we found ourselves carrying a dinghy into the river with 6 other equally deranged tourists clad in wet suit, helmet and life jacket. Before long we were careering through our first rapid, panic stricken. Our guide and boat leader at the back had us paddling furiously and completely ineffectually through each rapid with cries of “Adelante!” I think this was a ploy to take our minds away from the fact that we were completely out of control. At the end of each rapid, we would touch oars together in the middle of the boat to celebrate our improbable survival. At one of the rapids our guide convinced a few of us to jump overboard to do it ‘solo’. We jumped into the icy water and were fished out looking like drowned cats a few minutes later. The whole thing was great fun. Our guide was a bit of a joker. At the end he had us jump out near the shore to guide the boat in. The water was ankle deep, but after about 15 metres, it was suddenly up to our chins. Our guide was still in the boat roaring with laughter.

Next day, we decided to slow down a little and head off in search of a gentle lake walk. This shouldn’t have been too hard you would think – in the lake district. The best way to get around is to rent a vehicle. I was looking forward to hiring one of those four wheel drive, eat up the road, planet consuming tanks that are prevalent here. A car that screams “Get out of my way!” As it turned out, rental cars were a bit thin on the ground and the only car I could find at the third company we tried was a Fiat Uno. A car that says “Run me over. You won’t even notice.”

Undeterred, we set off for Conguillo national park to the north east, where the guide book claimed there is a pleasant walk around a small lake. Unfortunately, a large part of the road to the park is gravel and dirt, about 65 kms of it. This meant that we had to proceed at about 30 kph at best as the road also had more potholes than Blackburn, Lancashire. Large sections of the road had strategically placed ridges resembling corrugated iron that made our little car shake like a rock star in rehab. We proceeded in perpetual fear that the Fiat would fall apart around us. Occasionally a Chelsea tractor would roar past us, or over us, in a cloud of dust and stones, leaving us choking and blind for a few minutes. We eventually made it to our destination at about 5:30 p.m. minus a few nuts and bolts from the car that we hoped weren’t vital.

We saw from the information centre that the walk was 8 kms. This gave is just enough time to finish it and get back before dark. We set off through a forest of bamboo and monkey puzzle trees, full of chimps doing sudoku. After about an hour we hadn’t made it to the lake and realised that the walk must be 8 km each way. We had no choice but to abandon the walk to avoid negotiating the road back in the dark.

Next day, we chose a walk and lake considerably nearer to our hotel in the Huerquehue national park to the east. There were a few dirt roads along the way but we made our destination in good time with most of the car. We changed into our walking clobber and headed off uphill towards the lake. We had about 40 minutes of hard uphill slog before the trail flattened out, and the path split into three. There were no signposts so we had to guess the way. Our chosen path then split again, and again. We wandered like this for the next hour or so completely lost searching for the illusive lake. Eventually we flopped down to eat our packed lunch only to realise that we were back near to our starting point. We took this a sign that lake walks were not to be, and headed off back the hotel which, after all, had wonderful views of lake Villarica.. Still, we’d had two very pleasant forest walks instead.

On our way back we stopped by at a resort built around one of the many natural hot springs in the area, and spent a pleasant couple of hours soaking in the pool or reading in the shade.

We spent new year here, booking into an Italian restaurant in Pucon. We had a quiet civilised evening until midnight when, as is customary the world over, complete strangers starting greeting us like long lost friends covering us with kissed and shouting “Happy new year” in Spanish “Feliz ano nuevo”. At 12:30 we were treated to a fireworks display over the lake. The local custom is to hit the beach and watch the display form there, but the heavens had opened and we decided to watch in the dry under the roof of the restaurant terrace. We then spent the next 3 hours dancing wildly to Salsa with the locals.

Chile - Desert

This really is a magical mystery tour. We’ve no idea what were up to next. We’re in the middle of the driest desert on Earth. You’re probably expecting me to say that it was raining when we arrived. No chance. We haven’t even seen a cloud yet. It last rained in 2001. We’re in a small town, San Pedro de Atacama, which is a little oasis of green thanks to the two rivers that flow into it. We’re surrounded by mountains and volcanoes of course. One is picture perfect, an exact cone. It doesn’t look real, like a comic book volcano. There’s also an active volcano called Laska, which continually smokes like a brooding teenager. Luckily the prevailing wind always takes its ashes into Argentina and away from us.

We’re booked into this luxury, all inclusive adventure holiday camp. Even the drinks are included so I don’t know how they let us in. It’s a kind of Chilean Centre Parks for the Rich. Indeed, all the guests appear to be mega rich, except us of course.

The way it works here is that everyone meets up in the bar before dinner with the guides to decide what excursions to do tomorrow. There’s hiking, horse riding and mountain bike riding, but we just stuck with the walking. You go out in air conditioned mini vans in small groups, usually between 6 and 8 with a guide and then start the walk. At the end of the excursion, the same vehicle is waiting with icy cold beers – brilliant.

Our first trek was in moon valley. It turns out that the moon is in northern Chile, and not in outer space as previously thought. Barren rocks, craters, and dust. You get the picture. If the lunar landings were faked, this is where they did it.

On Christmas day we opted for a gentle stroll up river for a couple of hours to a hot spring. We jumped in and relaxed in the water that was like a warm bath, while the chefs prepared a wonderful lunch with prawns, smoked salmon, salads, cheese with wine and beer. This is the life.

The most memorable hike was up a volcano. Yes, that’s not a typo – a volcano. We were running out of options for excursions the previously night and were somehow talked into this crazy escapade. Next morning, Mags wimped out with some excuse about having a cold, so it was just me and 4 other hardy souls heading out into the hills. The minibus took us most of the way so it wasn’t such a massive challenge. We had to ascend about 500 metres, but this was at altitude so it was a bit trickier – really hard to catch your breath. For some reason, I wasn’t affected as much as other people and found it quite easy to get to the top. We were at 5650 metres, and had amazing views into Bolivia and Argentina, and with the clear day could see for hundreds of kilometres – really exhilarating.

Off to the lakes next where we’re hoping to see a bit of green.