I know, I know, It's been a while. Sorry.
After sleeping literally all the way from Santiago, I wake up to a very dozy village. It's cute. Some bad indications of it having rained recently, but overall a quaint little town. It functions in the winter as a ski resort, and in the summer as the centre of adventure holidays (white-water rafting, canyoning, skydiving, you name it). After a quick orientation I find the hostel I booked because, honestly you can't trust the timekeeping in this place at all, and after the incident in Santiago...well, I don't want that to happen again now do I??
After a very thorough introduction to what can be done in Pucón from Peter, the owner of the hostel, I head to Lake Carbuga, about a 40 minute bus ride from town. There is a reason why they call this the lake district after all. We wander to the beach on the lake (half black sand, half white sand, don't you know), new Aussie friend in tow, and it really is stunning. Although some very strange rocks carved into animals on the beach. We also check out the Ojos de Carhue waterfalls nearby. Mesmerising. The walk there took around an hour and you could have easily told me I was somewhere in the Swiss Alps with all the wooden cabins. An early night in preparation for the volcano I've decided to climb tomorrow. Yes. I am ACTUALLY crazy.
Now climbing Villarica volcano is THE thing to do if you're travelling in Pucón. Everyone recommends it. In fact some people only go to Pucón with the purpose of climbing this flipping thing. Safe to say, it wasn't as all that as these people think. We're at the tour operators office at 6:45 (we were supposed to be there at half past, but this is South America darling, no-one's on time). There is a giant frenzy of people being given kit that doesn't fit left, right and centre. Now, I have most of the gear they are trying to give us, but they won't have me using my own gear. They did thankfully give way on the boots (that would have just been gross and uncomfortable). They insist on the jackets and trousers to identify us as customers as that tour group. Which is just as well really because once we got up to the starting point there were about 200 people there all in varying brightly coloured jackets from the different tour companies. I will hasten to add that the journey to the volcano didn't come without it's own little drama. Within 10 seconds of leaving the office there's a car crash. Shouting and kicking pursues. We all pile into another car and leave one of the guides to deal with the mess - and the new driver of our car drives like an absolute maniac.
So. We're at the starting point at the bottom of the chairlift. The guides are introduced as Richards I and II, and Nicos I and II. Easy. We're given the option to take this up 400m to where the real walking begins. Do I take it? No, of course not. I've climbed Aconcagua (and in true Chrissi fashion, I left my moneybelt locked up in the locker at the hostel). It's steep, and a pretty nice walk, but Richard II sets a RAPID pace. My legs actually hate me. So I take it easy and amble up instead of keeping the ridiculous pace, and Richard II comes round to my way of thinking after a stubborn half an hour. The ascent is lovely from the top of the chairlift, and the views of the lakes are amazing. Some of the others go ahead, and eventually, it ends up being me and 2 Israeli girls (who are walking super slow).
Now, at 6:30, the sky was beautiful. No clouds. But as a "seasoned" mountaineer now, I notice some black clouds and speak to Richard II. We're just approaching the final ascent for summit.
Me: "Those clouds look pretty ominous"
Richard II (casual): "Yeah, they'll be here in about 30 minutes, maybe a little more."
Me: "Really?? How long will it take us to get to the top from here?"
Richard II (still casual): "About an hour."
I insisted on going down. There was no way I wanted to be caught in those clouds. In any case, Richard II lied. The rain was on us in 10 minutes. And those "waterproof" jackets and trousers supplied were most definitely not waterproof. We were lucky enough to have gone down early enough to not have our visibility affected by the clouds (others did), but we were soaked by the time we were back down to the top of the chairlift. To make matters worse, we had to wait in the freezing cold for more people to come down because about half of the people who were climbing had to come down with one guide.
Why? I hear you ask. Well, the others didn't turn back. They had the option, but apparently it didn't sound as if the guides were being serious. They made it to the top of the volcano, and by that time the cloud had come in, it was hailing hard and the winds were roaring at 70km/hour. There were several accidents. 3 people went to hospital, 1 guy was seen to fall into a cravasse and 1 guy went missing (later also found in a cravasse).
The mountain wasn´t safe to climb by any means and still trying to work out why they continued when they knew the weather was turning. Anyway, we all peg it down the rest of the mountain desperate to get away from the volcano and dry off. Just a shame that there was no hot water in the hostel.
So the next day - what do you think? A day of rest? Not on your nelly. I wasn't up pretty early, I admit, but I did choose that day to go white water rafting. Grade 4 rapids. SO MUCH FUN. Had a smile plastered to my face the whole way down. Totally worth it unlike that volcano. I'm not bitter.
We had an epic night on the town after my first sample of actual Chilean food. Kind of like a Chilean take on a mousakka, but very nice. I'll spare you the details of the night out I had (my parents read this after all), but after the stresses of the day before we treated ourselves very well! And I woke up with a stinker of a hangover. Best hangover cure: a nap on the beach (there was another lake a few blocks from the hostel), honey melon fresh juice, and the realisation that you only have 20 minutes to peg it back across town to get on the bus. It was late. But I wave goodbye to Pucón and the terrors of the volcano and arrive in Puerto Varas for a bit of rest and relaxation.
Monday, 19 March 2012
Sunday, 4 March 2012
Santiago
I headed to Santiago the same evening as the others left Mendoza. Spent most of the day wondering around town trying to find an "I climbed Aconcagua" t-shirt. Left Santiago at the 22:30 bus. Someone needs to remind me that I NEVER want to cross a border again by night. It was just a nightmare. We were woken up at 2am at border control for passport checks. There were a massive line of night buses each with 40 passengers, and only 3 people checking passports. To make matters worse, child kidnapping is a massive problem in Argentina, so any child who went through took so long! 2 hours pass. YES! We can get back on the bus!! For 10 minutes, until they pile us all out again and file us into another building, take all of the bags off the bus and pass them through a conveyor similar to an airport and had a lecture on the importance of not bringing in food products into Chile. We don't care. It's 4am. We just want to shut you up and go to sleep. Lecture over and bags checked, we all load back into the bus, and go straight back to sleep. Bliss.
I arrive in Los Héroes at 6:30am and head to the Che Lagarto hostel, where I've been recommended by some friends in the UK. The place is deserted. I ring the doorbell over and over again. Nothing. Great. This lady who I recognise from the bus journey comes up to me and asks me if I'm OK. I reply in my very broken Spanish (you'll be glad to hear it's much better now) that I'm looking for the Che Lagarto hostel, but I'd rung and no one was in. She asks a couple of passers-by where this hostel is, and they all point us to the deserted building. After many more frustrating conversations with passers-by and a receptionist in a very expensive looking hotel, she introduces herself as Monica and invites me back to her place. Well, I say invites. It was more of a statement. She doesn't want me hanging around that part of town while it's dark and I don't know my way round. That's very nice. I was a bit cautious. But in about the next 10 minutes, I realise that she's just lovely and that she's a bit lonely after I think she said she was widowed. She gives me the double bed room (all her things are in her son's room) and tells me to relax and if I want anything. We both go to bed for a few hours, and she wakes me up at about 10 to tell me she's nipping out and she writes down her mobile number, her address and the name of the nearest Metro station. "Relax, help yourself to whatever's in the fridge for some breakfast, have a shower, I'll be back soon".
So nice. I, feeling so happy to be being looked after call the hostel and get their real address and fall back asleep. Turns out they moved 2 years ago after the earthquake in 2010. And this guidebook is updated every year. Pah. I wake up and gather up my things and write Monica a note to thank her for taking me in. Just as I'm leaving, she walks back in with some man in tow and asks me if I had any breakfast. Since I haven't, she insists on me having either a tea or coffee, and explains that she's just bought a car off the guy who she introduces me to (but I can't remember his name). She tells me to put down my bags and to tell me what the situation is with the hostel, and after explaining the situation, she asks for the new address and tells me she'll give me a lift to try out the car!! So sweet. I honestly don't know what I would have done without her. She's my South American heroine.
As I get out of the car outside the real hostel, she tells me to call her anytime while in Santiago if I have any problems. I say "Thank you" for the millionth time and head into the hostel and check into one of the dorms. After the relative luxury of the hotel in Mendoza this is a little bit...worse for wear but functional. The staff are friendly and within about 10 minutes of settling down in my room I meet a Brazilian girl from Rio, Carla, whose English is brilliant, and she's just the sweetest. She gives me advice on where to go in Santiago and heads off.
I realise that I pack like a girl and that I'm going to have to send some stuff home (sorry Mum). The big pack is just too heavy. Once I've sorted the clothes that I'm going to send back home, I head out and walk around town and find the Museum of National History, which shows artifacts from pre-colonial era through to the early 20th century. Very interesting. I get back to the hostel to find a British couple playing pool. We have a super yummy "asado" (Chilean/Argentine BBQ) with as much wine as we could drink...they clearly underestimated the amount that we can drink! The Santiago nightlife is pretty cool, mainly European music with a few Brazilian hits. The clubs don't open until 2, so staying up for breakfast was pretty much the only option we had when we got back to the hostel (we definitely wouldn't have woken up in time).
As it happened, I barely woke up in time to get to my bike tour round Santiago. It was led by an ex-history teacher from New York, and everyone on the tour was from the US. But in all fairness, the tour was very interesting, and who knew how much political history there was in Santiago?? The dictatorship vs democracy, Allende vs Pinochet, civil war literary cafés. We then stopped for the BEST ICE CREAM EVER. Yum.
We headed to Viña del Mar for a few days, we were longing to see the sea with the 35ºC that we had been experiencing. We managed to make it there in time for the international music festival, which was a South American version of Eurovision, and the streets and beaches were PACKED. There's a clock made of FLOWERS here, which is pretty cool. The main attraction though is the Casino, and of course we went in and placed our bets. Quite a swanky place, and we had a good time, if stressed at the amount I was losing (at one point). I had a LEGEND sitting next to me who kept looking over my shoulder and helping me out by betting on my cards. I came out with what I went in though, so I'm pretty happy at that outcome!
Before heading back to Santiago, we spent the day in Valparaíso, a nearby port town. We didn't plan this bit very well, we turned up on the Monday, the only day of the week when everything is shut! But we went up some of the cable cars to the top of the hills and walked down after seeing the beautiful views from the top. There's a massive street art culture here, and we found ourselves mainly taking photos of the Banksy-style art on the walls. Some of it was really clever, other bits just strange.
We've discovered it is so difficult to get a Chilean meal around here. Italian? Check. Mexican? Check. American (KFC, McD's, Burger King)? Check. Chilean? Not one place. I've enjoyed Santiago, but it's time to move on now, heading further south to the Lake District. Next stop Pucón. Over and out.
PS. Sorry for the essay.
I arrive in Los Héroes at 6:30am and head to the Che Lagarto hostel, where I've been recommended by some friends in the UK. The place is deserted. I ring the doorbell over and over again. Nothing. Great. This lady who I recognise from the bus journey comes up to me and asks me if I'm OK. I reply in my very broken Spanish (you'll be glad to hear it's much better now) that I'm looking for the Che Lagarto hostel, but I'd rung and no one was in. She asks a couple of passers-by where this hostel is, and they all point us to the deserted building. After many more frustrating conversations with passers-by and a receptionist in a very expensive looking hotel, she introduces herself as Monica and invites me back to her place. Well, I say invites. It was more of a statement. She doesn't want me hanging around that part of town while it's dark and I don't know my way round. That's very nice. I was a bit cautious. But in about the next 10 minutes, I realise that she's just lovely and that she's a bit lonely after I think she said she was widowed. She gives me the double bed room (all her things are in her son's room) and tells me to relax and if I want anything. We both go to bed for a few hours, and she wakes me up at about 10 to tell me she's nipping out and she writes down her mobile number, her address and the name of the nearest Metro station. "Relax, help yourself to whatever's in the fridge for some breakfast, have a shower, I'll be back soon".
So nice. I, feeling so happy to be being looked after call the hostel and get their real address and fall back asleep. Turns out they moved 2 years ago after the earthquake in 2010. And this guidebook is updated every year. Pah. I wake up and gather up my things and write Monica a note to thank her for taking me in. Just as I'm leaving, she walks back in with some man in tow and asks me if I had any breakfast. Since I haven't, she insists on me having either a tea or coffee, and explains that she's just bought a car off the guy who she introduces me to (but I can't remember his name). She tells me to put down my bags and to tell me what the situation is with the hostel, and after explaining the situation, she asks for the new address and tells me she'll give me a lift to try out the car!! So sweet. I honestly don't know what I would have done without her. She's my South American heroine.
As I get out of the car outside the real hostel, she tells me to call her anytime while in Santiago if I have any problems. I say "Thank you" for the millionth time and head into the hostel and check into one of the dorms. After the relative luxury of the hotel in Mendoza this is a little bit...worse for wear but functional. The staff are friendly and within about 10 minutes of settling down in my room I meet a Brazilian girl from Rio, Carla, whose English is brilliant, and she's just the sweetest. She gives me advice on where to go in Santiago and heads off.
I realise that I pack like a girl and that I'm going to have to send some stuff home (sorry Mum). The big pack is just too heavy. Once I've sorted the clothes that I'm going to send back home, I head out and walk around town and find the Museum of National History, which shows artifacts from pre-colonial era through to the early 20th century. Very interesting. I get back to the hostel to find a British couple playing pool. We have a super yummy "asado" (Chilean/Argentine BBQ) with as much wine as we could drink...they clearly underestimated the amount that we can drink! The Santiago nightlife is pretty cool, mainly European music with a few Brazilian hits. The clubs don't open until 2, so staying up for breakfast was pretty much the only option we had when we got back to the hostel (we definitely wouldn't have woken up in time).
As it happened, I barely woke up in time to get to my bike tour round Santiago. It was led by an ex-history teacher from New York, and everyone on the tour was from the US. But in all fairness, the tour was very interesting, and who knew how much political history there was in Santiago?? The dictatorship vs democracy, Allende vs Pinochet, civil war literary cafés. We then stopped for the BEST ICE CREAM EVER. Yum.
We headed to Viña del Mar for a few days, we were longing to see the sea with the 35ºC that we had been experiencing. We managed to make it there in time for the international music festival, which was a South American version of Eurovision, and the streets and beaches were PACKED. There's a clock made of FLOWERS here, which is pretty cool. The main attraction though is the Casino, and of course we went in and placed our bets. Quite a swanky place, and we had a good time, if stressed at the amount I was losing (at one point). I had a LEGEND sitting next to me who kept looking over my shoulder and helping me out by betting on my cards. I came out with what I went in though, so I'm pretty happy at that outcome!
Before heading back to Santiago, we spent the day in Valparaíso, a nearby port town. We didn't plan this bit very well, we turned up on the Monday, the only day of the week when everything is shut! But we went up some of the cable cars to the top of the hills and walked down after seeing the beautiful views from the top. There's a massive street art culture here, and we found ourselves mainly taking photos of the Banksy-style art on the walls. Some of it was really clever, other bits just strange.
We've discovered it is so difficult to get a Chilean meal around here. Italian? Check. Mexican? Check. American (KFC, McD's, Burger King)? Check. Chilean? Not one place. I've enjoyed Santiago, but it's time to move on now, heading further south to the Lake District. Next stop Pucón. Over and out.
PS. Sorry for the essay.
Mendoza
I'm very aware it's been a while since my last post. In my defence it's pretty hard to find computers that are free to do this on, so I'm going to have a mass splurge.
The rest of my stay in Mendoza was amazing with much steak eating, sunbathing and swimming in the hotel's very own pool. Luxury!! We were in Mendoza for the beginning of the wine festival, which celebrates the beginning of the wine harvest season, and in light of this we thought it would just be RUDE not to go on a wine tour. This was 10 pesos (1.50 GBP) for a tour of 2 wineries and an olive oil factory. You would never have guessed, but petrol is actually the main export from this area, and all we could see for ages were the pumps. We're sitting in this mini-bus with Argentians who are on their summer holidays, thinking "are we on the right tour??". We eventually rock up at Navarro Correas, which is owned by the conglomerate Diageo. It's a beautiful little place, and the lady leading the tour does very well at describing the details of the fermentation process in both Spanish and English. Of course, we're only REALLY there for one thing. We pile our way onto the sofas in the tasting room, and she takes us through the process for looking like a wine connoisseur, the swirling, the colours to look for and the "legs" of the wine. Brilliant. And then the drinking begins. Here we try a Bonarda and a Sauvignon Blanc (not that Argentines are particularly reknowned for their white wine). We obviously decline the use of the spitting bucket and move on to the olive oil "boutique" factory. This was probably in our best interests for soaking purposes after consuming the best part of 3 bottles of wine between the 5 of us.
The olive oil process is described to us and the levels of acidity that determine the differences between olive oil, virgin, and extra virgin olive oil. Very interesting. We're told that the bits that aren't used to make the oil are used to make pastes, exfoliants and creams, which we try (the boys more reluctantly than I). Then comes the trying and actually, these olive oils were amazingly tasty, infused with basil, oregano, and some even with tomato (I don't know how). After devouring the bread, we hopped back in the minibus to go to our final destination, Cacas don Arturo, a boutique winery that uses only naturally occuring processes to produce their wine (no sulphites = no hangover). The boys are instantly infatuated with the Canadian/Argentinan girl who takes us round, and she tells us the ins and outs of this winery, most of the differences being that the process takes longer because they don't add anything to speed up the process. The wines here are absolutely mind-blowingly delicious. We bought lots between us, and drank most of them back at the pool over the next few days in Mendoza.
We spent the next few nights eating and drinking very well, but there was one main evening that we decided to "hit the town". Now, these guys I've been climbing the mountain with are great, but not really my "usual crowd" (ages 35+). In all fairness they came back later than I did, but I HAVE to tell you about the dancing that went on in this club that we went to. We went in there for a drink as this place had appeared to be a lively bar, but within an hour of being there, all the tables were cleared away and this group of drummers got on the stage at the front and started playing, and these dancers came out of nowhere and started dancing. The only thing that I would be able to describe it as is something akin to full-moon party dancing in Tanzania. It was all glow paint and booty shaking the rest of the night!! A great laugh.
We had 5 days in Mendoza and then the boys all left to return to the UK, I had such a great time with this lot, but it's just the beginning of by big adventure!!
The rest of my stay in Mendoza was amazing with much steak eating, sunbathing and swimming in the hotel's very own pool. Luxury!! We were in Mendoza for the beginning of the wine festival, which celebrates the beginning of the wine harvest season, and in light of this we thought it would just be RUDE not to go on a wine tour. This was 10 pesos (1.50 GBP) for a tour of 2 wineries and an olive oil factory. You would never have guessed, but petrol is actually the main export from this area, and all we could see for ages were the pumps. We're sitting in this mini-bus with Argentians who are on their summer holidays, thinking "are we on the right tour??". We eventually rock up at Navarro Correas, which is owned by the conglomerate Diageo. It's a beautiful little place, and the lady leading the tour does very well at describing the details of the fermentation process in both Spanish and English. Of course, we're only REALLY there for one thing. We pile our way onto the sofas in the tasting room, and she takes us through the process for looking like a wine connoisseur, the swirling, the colours to look for and the "legs" of the wine. Brilliant. And then the drinking begins. Here we try a Bonarda and a Sauvignon Blanc (not that Argentines are particularly reknowned for their white wine). We obviously decline the use of the spitting bucket and move on to the olive oil "boutique" factory. This was probably in our best interests for soaking purposes after consuming the best part of 3 bottles of wine between the 5 of us.
The olive oil process is described to us and the levels of acidity that determine the differences between olive oil, virgin, and extra virgin olive oil. Very interesting. We're told that the bits that aren't used to make the oil are used to make pastes, exfoliants and creams, which we try (the boys more reluctantly than I). Then comes the trying and actually, these olive oils were amazingly tasty, infused with basil, oregano, and some even with tomato (I don't know how). After devouring the bread, we hopped back in the minibus to go to our final destination, Cacas don Arturo, a boutique winery that uses only naturally occuring processes to produce their wine (no sulphites = no hangover). The boys are instantly infatuated with the Canadian/Argentinan girl who takes us round, and she tells us the ins and outs of this winery, most of the differences being that the process takes longer because they don't add anything to speed up the process. The wines here are absolutely mind-blowingly delicious. We bought lots between us, and drank most of them back at the pool over the next few days in Mendoza.
We spent the next few nights eating and drinking very well, but there was one main evening that we decided to "hit the town". Now, these guys I've been climbing the mountain with are great, but not really my "usual crowd" (ages 35+). In all fairness they came back later than I did, but I HAVE to tell you about the dancing that went on in this club that we went to. We went in there for a drink as this place had appeared to be a lively bar, but within an hour of being there, all the tables were cleared away and this group of drummers got on the stage at the front and started playing, and these dancers came out of nowhere and started dancing. The only thing that I would be able to describe it as is something akin to full-moon party dancing in Tanzania. It was all glow paint and booty shaking the rest of the night!! A great laugh.
We had 5 days in Mendoza and then the boys all left to return to the UK, I had such a great time with this lot, but it's just the beginning of by big adventure!!
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