One day on from our massively enjoyable trek I and was still feeling like I had left my brain halfway up one of the mountain peaks and it was being pecked at by condors. The guy next to me on the bus wasn´t helping either as he had 50 cent blaring so loud from his headphones that everyone in a mile radius not wearing a fat gold chain with a gun stuffed down their baggy pants had ear plugs wedged in. Laura wasn´t looking too impressed as there was an extremely overweight woman behind us chewing and popping her gum for the entire journey as well.
When we arrived at Punta Arenas we were in need of spending the night somewhere relaxing and splurged out in a hostel with a lovely complete with the most inviting double bed we´ve seen in 5 months alongside a walloping sized TV. You can imagine where we spent the rest of the day! Tucked up in bed we watched the very suitable ´American Pie 3 - The Wedding´ where everything possible in the build up to the big day goes completely wrong but in the end it ends up perfect. Lets hope so!
After an incredible lie in followed by a tasty free breakfast and time on the free Internet it was an easy decision to stay another night. Apart from leaving our hostel to book onward travel we didn´t see any of Punta Arenas town and felt satisfied enough in our room writing postcards, blogs and watching whatever movie came on for the whole day. It was the best antidote imaginable!
Even though it was an early start the next morning we were both feeling revived and caught a bus down to Usuaia in Argentina which would complete our time in Chile. After a whole days worth of travelling we reached the most southern city in the world, and the weather was how we´d expected being only a boat ride away from Antarctica´s white shelves. Being so close to the snowy continent meant prices here were quite steep so we headed through the rain and fog to get ourselves a dorm room, something we hadn´t done in a long while. There we shared our room with a friendly guy from Buenos Aires and a loveable old chap from Montreal, Canada- they couldn´t have been a better pick of characters. We found out from them all the things we could get up to at the end of the world but how the weather has been so horrific that it has prevented them from doing much. Looking outside it appreared we were in for a similar ordeal but we went to bed in hope that the sunshine might stream through our window and wake us up tomorrow.
There wasn´t any sun the next day but the rain had stopped for now. Our Canadian room mate told us he was finally going to Tierra del Fuego, a nearby mountainous area of natural beauty which is one of the biggest highlights here but with the sky thick with grey cloud he knew he wasn´t going to see much. We opted to check out the high street first and get some lunch before deciding. We found a delicious yet cheap restaurant and filled our bellies which seem to need constant feeding at the moment ever since our food rationing of packet mash and soup on our hike. Feelong more than satisfied we went back outside where the rain was hammering down again and we felt glad not to have ventured out to the mountains. With us not wanting to spend any money in town we made use of the free Internet back at the hostel, got to meet a new room mate who unfortunately wouldn´t move his mouth leading to a very pleasant one-way conversation. The rest of the day kind of drizzled away after that.
At 4.30am the next morning for two long minutes our Canadian friends piercing alarm went off whilst he was in such a deep sleep that I honestly thought he was dead. We hadn´t had any human deaths on this trip so far but thankfully the jolly chap eventually breathed out a lengthy sigh. It was the weather yet again that would be deathly today instead. We spent the entire day inside but very comortably chilled reading books, looking at photos and it´s where I´m currently sat writing this very sentence. It´s been so warm that we haven´t wanted to move a muscle in our cusion bed heaven and Laura has got hooked into one of the books here that she must finish before we leave tomorrow. She is already on page 450 of a 663 paged masterpiece after only starting a few hours ago. Tomorrow we have to get up at 4am to catch 30 hours worth of buses up to Puerto Madryn! We can hear the sunshine calling us!
Saturday 30 January 2010
Wednesday 27 January 2010
Torres del Paine
Our Torres del Paine adventure really started in Puerto Natales. Although a short bus ride compared to what we´ve become used to the four hours felt cramped and stuffy and by the time we had arrived we were happy to go with the first hostal that offered us a lift and reasonably cheap lodgings. They organised trips to the park but by this time I had a migraine so just went to bed and decided to make a decision in the morning. The next day taking it easy and getting supplies for the trek seemed the best idea.
Our day pottering around Puerto Natales was quite uneventful as we pulled our coats up around our ears and braved the bitterly cold winds. We had a nice warming lunch in a cafe and Blakey added a Chilean mask to the ever expanding collection, we checked the internet and found positive things happening with next steps after we get back home and then we tried to return to a cosy looking spot I had seen earlier for a hot chocolate. We walked for ages in huge circles and never discovered it again, though we did see the port and some of the lesser explored areas of the faded white washed town.
That evening it was early to bed. Our hostal was cheap but pretty grotty- the kitchen was covered in a film of grease and the carpets coated in a layer of grime. We snuggled down in our beds in a cold room made mostly of single pane glass windows that squeaked every time the wind blew and closed our eyes in preparation for our early start. It was not long after this that we started to get a little cross with our hostal- way gone 11 o´clock there was a violent knock on the door- the owner wanted the two other beds in our room for other guests who had just arrived. We were a little cross- we had been promised a double room so didn´t expect to be disturbed and had laid our stuff out for the morning on the bunks. Thankfully they decided to use a different room and we were able to return to sleep.
Or so we thought. At gone 2am another violent knock at the door. Barely giving Blakey two minutes to put some clothes on and answer she was wrapping the glass again. Two more people had arrived and this time all the stuff needed to be moved from the bunk beds. It wasn´t the new guests´ fault but they certainly paid for the disturbance when our alarm went off at 6am the following morning.
After padlocking a few of our posessions under the bed (the advertised luggage service we had been promised!) we had our backpacks ready to go with tent and sleeping bags. Wrapped in all our layers we were still shivering in the hostal (which also advertised heating-pah!) and after a quick breakfast boarded the bus for the three hour journey to the park.
When we finally arrived the grey light cast through the accumulated clouds made it feel early though our trek actually started around 11am. Still, the initial climb into the steep valley with heavy backpacks on soon warmed us up and we were stripping the layers off. It always seems to take an hour or two to get into the swing of these things and today was no exception, but by the time we had climbed far enough up to appreciate the sweeping views across the lakes behind us and the river weaving its way below we were on form. The day continued with this slow and steady pace eventually walking through twisted trees in a muddy forest to a campsite. Thrilled to be free of our bags we set the tent up and headed up the final steep and rocky slope to the viewpoint ahead. The strenuous last leg saw us climbing large boulders until suddenly we reached the summit and were rewarded with a view across to the three towers as they pierced the low hanging clouds sat above a turquoise lake. We weren´t expecting it to be so beautiful and it definately made the slog worthwhile. We descended slightly and found a nice big boulder to sit in front of, offering some protection from the strong winds whilst we took in our surroundings.
After 10 minutes or so the rain started to plop around us in big drops, slowly at first but gathering pace. We quickly decided to descend in a bid to stay dry but arrived back at the tent cold and wet. As we huddled in our tent, clothes attempting to dry in the tiny porch-like area, we used hot water kindly provided by a ranger to prepare our instant mash (flavoured with marmite) and soup. It was rationed but satisfying and we topped it all of with morale boosting chocolate before snuggling down, fully clothed, gloved and hatted and curled together for extra warmth. It wasn´t much good, we both woke many times through the night as the super loud wind and rain smattered against the canvas, splattering the sides with mud. It all seemed to stop only when the sun came up and finally we managed to close our eyes for an hour or two, eventually rising quite late for the day ahead we had planned.
By the time we had cleaned the tent up, packed it away and eaten a bowl of porrige ready to set off it was almost 11 o´clock. We had a long way to walk today, but at breakfast I overheard trekkers coming from the other direction discuss a shortcut which could come in useful and make up for lost time. As was the case before it took us a while to warm up, this time facing a lack of sleep and aching bodies from the previous day´s slog and the previous night´s disturbed rest. This proved particularly tricky for me when out in the exposed valley again. The path hugged the steep slope of the valley wall and consisted of shingles that would occasionally slip and ricochet far down to the river below. This became a real issue when the strengh of the infamous Patagonian wind was enough to knock us off our feet. With the large surface area of the pack on my back I was really struggling and am very grateful to another trekker who gave me one of his walking poles to traverse a particularly narrow and crumbling section- before he came along I was scared I was going to have to sit there until the wind stopped!
A little further on from this and Blakey noticed a well kept path leading to one side- he had found the short cut! We followed around and were soon rewarded with protection from the winds by the mountain face that we were now standing on. From here the wind became our friend as it cleared the sky of most clouds with the exception of some particularly strange lookng formations and the sun was shining in the bright blue sky. This path was higher up than that marked on the map and offered sweeping views accross the surrounding lakes that were lit up in the golden sunlight. Also the trekker traffic started to disperse and we found we had far more path to ourselves without the need for regular "hola´s". As nice as the comaraderie on a trip like this can be, finding you have the sights to yourself can be far more rewarding.
By lunchtime we ended up in a big patch of daisies with snow capped peaks behind us and lakes in front. Another perfect moment as we enjoyed our picnic and photo snapping session. Refreshed, revived and ready to go we kept up our fast pace and headed onwards.
Quite a few hours later, after crossing some big rivers and descending the hill slightly we followed the less clear track to a point with rocks across the path though only to ankle height. Questioning if that was significant Blakey decided to push on. We soon came to a fairly steep descent on another shingle path, but not being too proud we decided we could manage it if we skid down on our bums. All good, other than the stone that went up Blakey´s bum and ripped his trouser slightly.
All good, that was, until after following it a little further the path disintegrated into a narrow, crimbling ledge. Blakey was sure it was getting better further ahead and knowing the gradient of our descent we both decided to push on rather than turn back. We kept this up until the point where I put my foot down and it went straight through the path with me ending up on my knees and my hands in the thorny bushes either side of me, holding on to prevent tumbling all the way down. As I sat there and picked the thorns out of my palms Blakey headed off the path to find a safer and quicker route back to what sounded like the actual path a little way above us thanks to the voices we could hear before returning to help me with my bag. Finally we were back on track, but any extra time the short cut had given us had been taken up by that little adventure. We had a long way to go and needed to move fast to beat nightfall.
The sun was still out, the sights were amazing and we were dealing with the weight of our packs and the strain on our legs. I´m so sorry to discuss my sensitive digestive system again, but it was a fairly significant part of our afternoon. Something had upset me so I found myself running off into bushes rather quickly whilst Blakey unsympathetically threatened to take photos of me, or more productively used the opportunity to photograph the surrounding area. It was a very pretty place to need a poo!
Eventually we found the campsite that had been a landmark for so long. This first one was not free though, so after a brief sit down and a $4 can of Sprite to replace lost fluids (how much?!) we needed to head on. Prices like that were way out of our reach. It was 7pm and the map said two and a half hours walk to the next campsite we wanted, with the sun due to set at 9.30pm- we had to move fast and get the tent up. Somehow, we managed to get there in under two hours and after finding a spot in the packed campsite were tucking into instant mash and soup. Tonight we were out like a light and neither of us woke until morning.
Even with a solid 8 hours sleep the following morning was hard work. My poor old knees were feeling the strain despite all the strappings and I was getting cross with them- I´m sure I´m not supposed to experience things like this at my age! The best thing was that we could leave our bags at the guards hut for now, as we had a 6 hour walk to the viewpoint and back and we could do it luggage free. I still managed to grumble for the first half hour or so.
Still, fate was on our side. The previous night we had heard claps of thunder but there was no lightening or rain and now we were to find out why. After a stop close to camp we found ourselves staring across the valley to the huge and impressive Glacier de Frances. A small stream of ice was breaking off and powdery substance blowing away in the wind. Suddenly we heard an almighty crack and a huge chunk of ice started to slide from the very top of the mountain. We stood and watched in amazement as the avalanche gathered speed and huge plumes of ice powder clouds rolled down the hill and into the air The thunder like sound resonated all around us and just kept going and going, it was truly spectacular.
We journeyed on, motivated by the show we had just seen though still feeling as though we were racing against ourselves. We had decided to cut the last leg off the journey- a trek to another glacier- as after Perito Moreño we had heard it was not quite as impressive. I was also waiting for an email regarding an interview and the weather was staring to turn again- after climbing Rongitoto in cloud cover and not being able to see anything we felt happier returning to the comfort of a bed, but that meant we had to get a ferry at 6.30pm.
Suddenly, we reached our destination- a rocky outcrop that offered spectaclar 360 views of the mountains on either side of the valley and the lakes far below behind us. Our stride saw us arrive there much earlier than expected and just as well. The same as on the first day, we had time to photograph everything, to sit and enjoy it and then just at the moment that we were starting to get cold and needed to move again the rain started to fall and the clouds obscured the view. We descended through the valley to retrieve our bags and then took the squelchy, muddy route across the hills to the ferry port. Somehow we had become superfast, overtaking many people en route and arriving with enough time for a warming cup of coffee, an attempt to dry our clothes and a sneaky review of the pictures we had taken. We felt thoroughly satisfied in all we had seen and in the work out we had, and though some might think we were cheating for missing the last leg, the weather made it very clear that we had made the right decision.
The ferry and following bus journey passed in a sleepy haze. We were exhausted when we stepped out into the bitter cold winds of Puerto Natales once more and were somewhat dubious about returning to the hostal that had looked after us so badly, though with our bags there and the late time had little choice. However, when we did arrive we were given the only room with a double bed- no way anyone else would be joining us tonight- and were surrounded by a pleasant group of fellow backpackers who had also just completed the trek today, though returned earlier than us it seems. After a satisfying meal we huddled together in a still very cold room and were soon fast asleep.
Our day pottering around Puerto Natales was quite uneventful as we pulled our coats up around our ears and braved the bitterly cold winds. We had a nice warming lunch in a cafe and Blakey added a Chilean mask to the ever expanding collection, we checked the internet and found positive things happening with next steps after we get back home and then we tried to return to a cosy looking spot I had seen earlier for a hot chocolate. We walked for ages in huge circles and never discovered it again, though we did see the port and some of the lesser explored areas of the faded white washed town.
That evening it was early to bed. Our hostal was cheap but pretty grotty- the kitchen was covered in a film of grease and the carpets coated in a layer of grime. We snuggled down in our beds in a cold room made mostly of single pane glass windows that squeaked every time the wind blew and closed our eyes in preparation for our early start. It was not long after this that we started to get a little cross with our hostal- way gone 11 o´clock there was a violent knock on the door- the owner wanted the two other beds in our room for other guests who had just arrived. We were a little cross- we had been promised a double room so didn´t expect to be disturbed and had laid our stuff out for the morning on the bunks. Thankfully they decided to use a different room and we were able to return to sleep.
Or so we thought. At gone 2am another violent knock at the door. Barely giving Blakey two minutes to put some clothes on and answer she was wrapping the glass again. Two more people had arrived and this time all the stuff needed to be moved from the bunk beds. It wasn´t the new guests´ fault but they certainly paid for the disturbance when our alarm went off at 6am the following morning.
After padlocking a few of our posessions under the bed (the advertised luggage service we had been promised!) we had our backpacks ready to go with tent and sleeping bags. Wrapped in all our layers we were still shivering in the hostal (which also advertised heating-pah!) and after a quick breakfast boarded the bus for the three hour journey to the park.
When we finally arrived the grey light cast through the accumulated clouds made it feel early though our trek actually started around 11am. Still, the initial climb into the steep valley with heavy backpacks on soon warmed us up and we were stripping the layers off. It always seems to take an hour or two to get into the swing of these things and today was no exception, but by the time we had climbed far enough up to appreciate the sweeping views across the lakes behind us and the river weaving its way below we were on form. The day continued with this slow and steady pace eventually walking through twisted trees in a muddy forest to a campsite. Thrilled to be free of our bags we set the tent up and headed up the final steep and rocky slope to the viewpoint ahead. The strenuous last leg saw us climbing large boulders until suddenly we reached the summit and were rewarded with a view across to the three towers as they pierced the low hanging clouds sat above a turquoise lake. We weren´t expecting it to be so beautiful and it definately made the slog worthwhile. We descended slightly and found a nice big boulder to sit in front of, offering some protection from the strong winds whilst we took in our surroundings.
After 10 minutes or so the rain started to plop around us in big drops, slowly at first but gathering pace. We quickly decided to descend in a bid to stay dry but arrived back at the tent cold and wet. As we huddled in our tent, clothes attempting to dry in the tiny porch-like area, we used hot water kindly provided by a ranger to prepare our instant mash (flavoured with marmite) and soup. It was rationed but satisfying and we topped it all of with morale boosting chocolate before snuggling down, fully clothed, gloved and hatted and curled together for extra warmth. It wasn´t much good, we both woke many times through the night as the super loud wind and rain smattered against the canvas, splattering the sides with mud. It all seemed to stop only when the sun came up and finally we managed to close our eyes for an hour or two, eventually rising quite late for the day ahead we had planned.
By the time we had cleaned the tent up, packed it away and eaten a bowl of porrige ready to set off it was almost 11 o´clock. We had a long way to walk today, but at breakfast I overheard trekkers coming from the other direction discuss a shortcut which could come in useful and make up for lost time. As was the case before it took us a while to warm up, this time facing a lack of sleep and aching bodies from the previous day´s slog and the previous night´s disturbed rest. This proved particularly tricky for me when out in the exposed valley again. The path hugged the steep slope of the valley wall and consisted of shingles that would occasionally slip and ricochet far down to the river below. This became a real issue when the strengh of the infamous Patagonian wind was enough to knock us off our feet. With the large surface area of the pack on my back I was really struggling and am very grateful to another trekker who gave me one of his walking poles to traverse a particularly narrow and crumbling section- before he came along I was scared I was going to have to sit there until the wind stopped!
A little further on from this and Blakey noticed a well kept path leading to one side- he had found the short cut! We followed around and were soon rewarded with protection from the winds by the mountain face that we were now standing on. From here the wind became our friend as it cleared the sky of most clouds with the exception of some particularly strange lookng formations and the sun was shining in the bright blue sky. This path was higher up than that marked on the map and offered sweeping views accross the surrounding lakes that were lit up in the golden sunlight. Also the trekker traffic started to disperse and we found we had far more path to ourselves without the need for regular "hola´s". As nice as the comaraderie on a trip like this can be, finding you have the sights to yourself can be far more rewarding.
By lunchtime we ended up in a big patch of daisies with snow capped peaks behind us and lakes in front. Another perfect moment as we enjoyed our picnic and photo snapping session. Refreshed, revived and ready to go we kept up our fast pace and headed onwards.
Quite a few hours later, after crossing some big rivers and descending the hill slightly we followed the less clear track to a point with rocks across the path though only to ankle height. Questioning if that was significant Blakey decided to push on. We soon came to a fairly steep descent on another shingle path, but not being too proud we decided we could manage it if we skid down on our bums. All good, other than the stone that went up Blakey´s bum and ripped his trouser slightly.
All good, that was, until after following it a little further the path disintegrated into a narrow, crimbling ledge. Blakey was sure it was getting better further ahead and knowing the gradient of our descent we both decided to push on rather than turn back. We kept this up until the point where I put my foot down and it went straight through the path with me ending up on my knees and my hands in the thorny bushes either side of me, holding on to prevent tumbling all the way down. As I sat there and picked the thorns out of my palms Blakey headed off the path to find a safer and quicker route back to what sounded like the actual path a little way above us thanks to the voices we could hear before returning to help me with my bag. Finally we were back on track, but any extra time the short cut had given us had been taken up by that little adventure. We had a long way to go and needed to move fast to beat nightfall.
The sun was still out, the sights were amazing and we were dealing with the weight of our packs and the strain on our legs. I´m so sorry to discuss my sensitive digestive system again, but it was a fairly significant part of our afternoon. Something had upset me so I found myself running off into bushes rather quickly whilst Blakey unsympathetically threatened to take photos of me, or more productively used the opportunity to photograph the surrounding area. It was a very pretty place to need a poo!
Eventually we found the campsite that had been a landmark for so long. This first one was not free though, so after a brief sit down and a $4 can of Sprite to replace lost fluids (how much?!) we needed to head on. Prices like that were way out of our reach. It was 7pm and the map said two and a half hours walk to the next campsite we wanted, with the sun due to set at 9.30pm- we had to move fast and get the tent up. Somehow, we managed to get there in under two hours and after finding a spot in the packed campsite were tucking into instant mash and soup. Tonight we were out like a light and neither of us woke until morning.
Even with a solid 8 hours sleep the following morning was hard work. My poor old knees were feeling the strain despite all the strappings and I was getting cross with them- I´m sure I´m not supposed to experience things like this at my age! The best thing was that we could leave our bags at the guards hut for now, as we had a 6 hour walk to the viewpoint and back and we could do it luggage free. I still managed to grumble for the first half hour or so.
Still, fate was on our side. The previous night we had heard claps of thunder but there was no lightening or rain and now we were to find out why. After a stop close to camp we found ourselves staring across the valley to the huge and impressive Glacier de Frances. A small stream of ice was breaking off and powdery substance blowing away in the wind. Suddenly we heard an almighty crack and a huge chunk of ice started to slide from the very top of the mountain. We stood and watched in amazement as the avalanche gathered speed and huge plumes of ice powder clouds rolled down the hill and into the air The thunder like sound resonated all around us and just kept going and going, it was truly spectacular.
We journeyed on, motivated by the show we had just seen though still feeling as though we were racing against ourselves. We had decided to cut the last leg off the journey- a trek to another glacier- as after Perito Moreño we had heard it was not quite as impressive. I was also waiting for an email regarding an interview and the weather was staring to turn again- after climbing Rongitoto in cloud cover and not being able to see anything we felt happier returning to the comfort of a bed, but that meant we had to get a ferry at 6.30pm.
Suddenly, we reached our destination- a rocky outcrop that offered spectaclar 360 views of the mountains on either side of the valley and the lakes far below behind us. Our stride saw us arrive there much earlier than expected and just as well. The same as on the first day, we had time to photograph everything, to sit and enjoy it and then just at the moment that we were starting to get cold and needed to move again the rain started to fall and the clouds obscured the view. We descended through the valley to retrieve our bags and then took the squelchy, muddy route across the hills to the ferry port. Somehow we had become superfast, overtaking many people en route and arriving with enough time for a warming cup of coffee, an attempt to dry our clothes and a sneaky review of the pictures we had taken. We felt thoroughly satisfied in all we had seen and in the work out we had, and though some might think we were cheating for missing the last leg, the weather made it very clear that we had made the right decision.
The ferry and following bus journey passed in a sleepy haze. We were exhausted when we stepped out into the bitter cold winds of Puerto Natales once more and were somewhat dubious about returning to the hostal that had looked after us so badly, though with our bags there and the late time had little choice. However, when we did arrive we were given the only room with a double bed- no way anyone else would be joining us tonight- and were surrounded by a pleasant group of fellow backpackers who had also just completed the trek today, though returned earlier than us it seems. After a satisfying meal we huddled together in a still very cold room and were soon fast asleep.
Sunday 24 January 2010
El Calafate
We packed up and left Chile Chico, now thankfully without skinny cheese who had gone the previous morning- hopefully we never see his stalking, miserable face again. After a short half hour mini-bus ride over the border back into Argentina we reached Los Antigos for a quick pit stop before hopefully getting another bus down to El Chalten to see the towering Fitz Roy range. Before we could buy our ticket we needed to top up our thinning wallet and my rumbling stomach.
When we arrived back to the station with cash in hand we watched the lengthy queue in front of us book out every last seat on the bus bar one. When we were next in line we were told we would have to wait two days until the next one. We weren´t up for staying here for that long and after some translation help from some nice chaps from Brazil we found we could get a bus that day to El Calafate, the place we wanted to go after El Chalten and not only would it cost the same price but it would also take the same amount of time to get there despite being four and a half hours further away and we would have to change onto another two different buses. How was that possible? Instead of driving the crumbling, stony roads of the apparently beautiful route 40, we´d take another way and hit the smooth tarmac in which that alone would save all that time. It was going to be a night bus so we wouldn´t be able to see the scenery outside anyway but it did obviously mean cutting out El Chalten. With the thought of what was in store in El Calafate (The Perito Moreno Glacier) and the chance of a peaceful bump free night we booked up and headed off.
Three buses, twenty four hours later, having watched an entertaining marathon trilogy of Sly Stallone action films, a gruesome horror which must have scared the living hell out of the weeny kids on board and a seven hour stop off in Rio Gallegos where we spent our time sitting around the only thing that was open- the petrol station, making good use of their hot water making extra strong coffee´s and we finally made it to El Calafate!
It didn´t take long to find accommodation and we secured a lovely cabin with en-suite for a reasonable price. We headed into the main street where it was quite clear that this place had benefited extremely well from the amount of tourists pouring in each day with it´s endless amount of inviting cafe´s, restaurants that made me want to look through the window at the big clumps of juicy meat on people´s plates and some of the best gift and clothes shops we´ve seen in South America so far. If we weren´t careful then this town could gobble our pennies within minutes.
Laura had left her favourite and only hoody on the bus and with the weather getting colder as we move further south we needed to find her a warm replacement before her joints seized up. The more shops we explored, the more we wanted to spend but the prices were similar to back home so we had to resist most, but we did get a surprisingly cheap clay mask, a flash new hoody and spotted a T-shirt which would look so good on Laura that she was bound to buy it the next day.
My eyes were starting to play up to the light again so I made my way back to our cabin to drop some of my magical juice in whilst Laura continued to venture around more good looking stores. On my way there with my eyes fixed down at the pavement to stop them from burning from the sunshine above I saw a dark twig shaped shadow coming straight towards me bearing the presence of evil like the death eaters from Harry Potter. I squinted my eyes ahead and it was far worse than I had expected- it was skinny cheese. He asked me where I was staying and I pointed randomly down the road. He told me where he was staying and would you believe, it was right in front of our hostal. Laura caught up with me and tried not to gasp in disbelief that he had found us again. To make matters worse he too was planning to see the glacier tomorrow. Luckily he needed to go to town to book it so we walked off quick, snuck back into our room and shut the curtains. We consolidated ourselves with hot chocolate, I had my first shower in about a week and sleep soon followed.
There was something about the next day that felt like waking up at home on a Sunday morning, we couldn´t have been more relaxed and comfy in our double bed with the winds pelting outside bashing the branches over our sky-light window. One of the best breakfasts ever came next with us having every inch of our table covered with enough food for a small army. Everything was going so well until we reached the station to get our ride over to the national park. There he stood. We pretended we hadn´t seen him, got on the bus and peaked out to see if he was getting on too. A sweaty tense twenty minutes later and to our delight he got on the bus next to us.
A few hours into our journey and we stopped in a lay by where another bus had a flat tyre. Guess who was the first person off that bus and on to ours? Will this ever end. Thankfully we drove on and left him behind. A little while later and our driver put on some rather heroic and very cheesy music and all of a sudden every head on the bus turned to the left to look out the window at the iced beauty of the Perito Moreno Glacier which appeared in the distance. We could all instantly tell that this was going to be something truly magnificent.
When we arrived we were all given the option to pay for a one hour boat ride to get up close and personal to the glacier. It was any easy decision to make and within minutes of navigating past massive slabs of icebergs that would have given us quite a hefty dent we were face to face with the blue veined monster. We were reduced to the size of matchsticks, floating in a kids remote controlled toy boat. The Franz Josef Glacier back in New Zealand had blown our minds but the size of that would literally only be the tongue of this gygantuan 60m high, 30km long and 5km wide beast. We were positively shooting fireworks out of each and every one of our toes and both knew even without saying it to one another that this was the greatest thing our eyes have ever clapped apon.
Hundreds of photos later and we were back on dry land where we were driven to the main view point for the glacier. After finding a good spot we sat on a cold stone wall and things then became even more incredible as the glacier had a few tricks under it´s iced sleeve that would make us not want to look away for a split second. Not only was the ice changing colour with the weather shining above leading to every picture of the same shot looking completely different to the last but far more pant wetting was the fact that the glacier was actually moving. It advances up to 2m a day and boy could we hear it. The constant movement was causing ginourmous towers of ice to collapse in front of our very eyes generating mini tidal waves in the lake below and bringing with it some thunderous rip roaring sounds like the giant was actually trying to speak to us. This happened every hour or so but every few minutes we were all teased by loud creeks and cracks with the occasional shotgun like noise in the instance. We stayed glued to our cold wall with the wind whipping our faces for hours not letting our eyes look anywhere else and you can imagine just how bloody excited I was. We used our camera and video camera batteries to the last second capturing as much as we could and it took forever to tear ourselves away to eat our lunch and then we were straight back to our watch posts. The only thing that did take us away hours later was the last bus home. Quite honestly I could have built myself a little hut with a radiator in it and lived there happily ever after. Easily one of the biggest highlights yet. We went to bed felling like the luckiest couple of ducks ever.
The next day we went out for lunch and I ordered a steak in which when it arrived minus any vegetables or chips was equally as impressive in size. I had to take a photo. It was insane. Feeling more than satisfied we took a bus to Puerto Natales to continue our great start to the year. It seems the rumours about Patagonia´s beauty are all true and we wre off to explore more.
When we arrived back to the station with cash in hand we watched the lengthy queue in front of us book out every last seat on the bus bar one. When we were next in line we were told we would have to wait two days until the next one. We weren´t up for staying here for that long and after some translation help from some nice chaps from Brazil we found we could get a bus that day to El Calafate, the place we wanted to go after El Chalten and not only would it cost the same price but it would also take the same amount of time to get there despite being four and a half hours further away and we would have to change onto another two different buses. How was that possible? Instead of driving the crumbling, stony roads of the apparently beautiful route 40, we´d take another way and hit the smooth tarmac in which that alone would save all that time. It was going to be a night bus so we wouldn´t be able to see the scenery outside anyway but it did obviously mean cutting out El Chalten. With the thought of what was in store in El Calafate (The Perito Moreno Glacier) and the chance of a peaceful bump free night we booked up and headed off.
Three buses, twenty four hours later, having watched an entertaining marathon trilogy of Sly Stallone action films, a gruesome horror which must have scared the living hell out of the weeny kids on board and a seven hour stop off in Rio Gallegos where we spent our time sitting around the only thing that was open- the petrol station, making good use of their hot water making extra strong coffee´s and we finally made it to El Calafate!
It didn´t take long to find accommodation and we secured a lovely cabin with en-suite for a reasonable price. We headed into the main street where it was quite clear that this place had benefited extremely well from the amount of tourists pouring in each day with it´s endless amount of inviting cafe´s, restaurants that made me want to look through the window at the big clumps of juicy meat on people´s plates and some of the best gift and clothes shops we´ve seen in South America so far. If we weren´t careful then this town could gobble our pennies within minutes.
Laura had left her favourite and only hoody on the bus and with the weather getting colder as we move further south we needed to find her a warm replacement before her joints seized up. The more shops we explored, the more we wanted to spend but the prices were similar to back home so we had to resist most, but we did get a surprisingly cheap clay mask, a flash new hoody and spotted a T-shirt which would look so good on Laura that she was bound to buy it the next day.
My eyes were starting to play up to the light again so I made my way back to our cabin to drop some of my magical juice in whilst Laura continued to venture around more good looking stores. On my way there with my eyes fixed down at the pavement to stop them from burning from the sunshine above I saw a dark twig shaped shadow coming straight towards me bearing the presence of evil like the death eaters from Harry Potter. I squinted my eyes ahead and it was far worse than I had expected- it was skinny cheese. He asked me where I was staying and I pointed randomly down the road. He told me where he was staying and would you believe, it was right in front of our hostal. Laura caught up with me and tried not to gasp in disbelief that he had found us again. To make matters worse he too was planning to see the glacier tomorrow. Luckily he needed to go to town to book it so we walked off quick, snuck back into our room and shut the curtains. We consolidated ourselves with hot chocolate, I had my first shower in about a week and sleep soon followed.
There was something about the next day that felt like waking up at home on a Sunday morning, we couldn´t have been more relaxed and comfy in our double bed with the winds pelting outside bashing the branches over our sky-light window. One of the best breakfasts ever came next with us having every inch of our table covered with enough food for a small army. Everything was going so well until we reached the station to get our ride over to the national park. There he stood. We pretended we hadn´t seen him, got on the bus and peaked out to see if he was getting on too. A sweaty tense twenty minutes later and to our delight he got on the bus next to us.
A few hours into our journey and we stopped in a lay by where another bus had a flat tyre. Guess who was the first person off that bus and on to ours? Will this ever end. Thankfully we drove on and left him behind. A little while later and our driver put on some rather heroic and very cheesy music and all of a sudden every head on the bus turned to the left to look out the window at the iced beauty of the Perito Moreno Glacier which appeared in the distance. We could all instantly tell that this was going to be something truly magnificent.
When we arrived we were all given the option to pay for a one hour boat ride to get up close and personal to the glacier. It was any easy decision to make and within minutes of navigating past massive slabs of icebergs that would have given us quite a hefty dent we were face to face with the blue veined monster. We were reduced to the size of matchsticks, floating in a kids remote controlled toy boat. The Franz Josef Glacier back in New Zealand had blown our minds but the size of that would literally only be the tongue of this gygantuan 60m high, 30km long and 5km wide beast. We were positively shooting fireworks out of each and every one of our toes and both knew even without saying it to one another that this was the greatest thing our eyes have ever clapped apon.
Hundreds of photos later and we were back on dry land where we were driven to the main view point for the glacier. After finding a good spot we sat on a cold stone wall and things then became even more incredible as the glacier had a few tricks under it´s iced sleeve that would make us not want to look away for a split second. Not only was the ice changing colour with the weather shining above leading to every picture of the same shot looking completely different to the last but far more pant wetting was the fact that the glacier was actually moving. It advances up to 2m a day and boy could we hear it. The constant movement was causing ginourmous towers of ice to collapse in front of our very eyes generating mini tidal waves in the lake below and bringing with it some thunderous rip roaring sounds like the giant was actually trying to speak to us. This happened every hour or so but every few minutes we were all teased by loud creeks and cracks with the occasional shotgun like noise in the instance. We stayed glued to our cold wall with the wind whipping our faces for hours not letting our eyes look anywhere else and you can imagine just how bloody excited I was. We used our camera and video camera batteries to the last second capturing as much as we could and it took forever to tear ourselves away to eat our lunch and then we were straight back to our watch posts. The only thing that did take us away hours later was the last bus home. Quite honestly I could have built myself a little hut with a radiator in it and lived there happily ever after. Easily one of the biggest highlights yet. We went to bed felling like the luckiest couple of ducks ever.
The next day we went out for lunch and I ordered a steak in which when it arrived minus any vegetables or chips was equally as impressive in size. I had to take a photo. It was insane. Feeling more than satisfied we took a bus to Puerto Natales to continue our great start to the year. It seems the rumours about Patagonia´s beauty are all true and we wre off to explore more.
Thursday 21 January 2010
Skinny Cheese
After leaving Coyahique quite late we arrived in the town of Puerto Ibanez and after rejecting a recommendation form our driver checked into a cheaper hospedaje for the night. It was soon aparent whythis was cheaper, dodgy looking blankets, rickety windows and slightly inhospitable hosts. After a quick wander through the barely there town and catching the sunset casting flecks of pink across the lake we realised taht we wouldn't be missing much if we hopped straight on the ferry the following morning. We booked our tickets and spent the last hours of the evening in the hostel.
It was a this point that we first met a character that I'm afrai may come to feature all too often in our blogs, who knows at this stage?! In the room next to us, though with the door wide open so he could strike up conversation with people as they walked past, was a very skinny, very intense guy. After Blakey said hello in the polite way that he always does, he was drawn into a very long and miserable conversation about how awful Chile is, how there's nothing to do here, how this guy had hurt his foor and wouldn't be able to trek and how there was nothing to do in this town. Blake tried to cheer him up by describing the beautiful sunset we had just seen and eventually managed to wrap things up by saying how we were catching the boat in the morning and would need to get some sleep now. This guy was getting the boat too and offered to walk with us. Oh joy!
The next morning as we heaved our bags on we could hear him hanging outside of our room, waiting. Looks like we didn't have a choice then. He regailed us with stories of the expense of travelling and the disappointments he'd faced, stopping every now and again to allow Blakey to offer an opinion. For some reason, perhaps because I can't stand up and go to the toilet, every time I spok he would speak over me quite loudly and deliberately. I was really warming to this chap, as you can imagine.
We boarded the boat and though he sat next to us we were spared more doom and gloom by something quite wonderful. Firstly a tiny boy, no more than 7 years at the oldest, entered the passenger area in a very smart sailor suit with tailored jacket. The little guy addressed the crowd in an astonishingly polite and mature fashion giving us all a choice. We didn't decipher what that choice was but just watching him talk to the other Spanish speakers was entertainment enough. He left briefly and returned to put the large screens on with a copy of Back to the Future. This became extremely exciting when the film was projected in it's original form with Spanish subtitles for the other passengers. Our time on board flew by as we enjoyed remembering just how perfect the adventures of Marty and Doc Brown really are. Fantastic!
Upon enetering port I was growing excited at the prospect of saying goodbye to our new found friend. We disembarked and I pointed out the onward transport that he had intended upon taking. Blakey and I were going to stay here for the night and eplore the little town of Chile Chico. he was being indecisive and just kept following us until we came to a guesthouse where we said goodbye and rang the doorbell. He waited with us. I asked the owner for a room for two and he followed. there were two rooms, one with four beds and the other with three. The owner kindly offered us one and him the other, but he deided to put his bags in the one we were offered. he still hadn't made up his mind but it looked like he was planning to stay the night here now. By this point I was getting a little uncomfortable by this rude guy that was determined to remain in our company and dominate conversations so outwardly asked him if he was going to take the other room. His reply was that if more people come she would let them in so he was going to sleep in here with us! I didn't know what to do, I was looking forward to a shower and was really not prepared to get undressed with him around so I decided I would take the other room and muttered something about a boys and girls dorm.
The next thing we had planned was a walk around town, but the guy waited and waited to come with us. Thinking on our feet we headed to an internet cafe and were prepared to stay there as long as it would take for him to get bored and leave. Eventually it worked and we spent the next half hour talking in disbelief about this stranger that was forcing himself upon us. We christened him skinny cheese as Blakey had misheard his name and thought it was Edam!
Finally free we took a stroll around. Due to its position next to the lake Chile Chico has a micro climate earning the moniker Ciudad del Sol. the bright and clear blue sky paid testament to this and the strong winds were a permanent reminder that we were in Patagonia now. As we wandered we saw great pictures of the nearby Jainemeine National Park, a valley nestled amongst the mountains with lagoons of flamingoes and strange stone formations formed by the harsh erosion of the PAtagonian winds Getting to the park required a guide and a four wheel drive which was expensive, but we'd come this far across the world and were almost guaranteed good weather so we organised ourselves a trip for the next day. As this involved a 5am departure we headed back for the afternoon and Blakey moved his bags in with mine whilst I explained to the owners that we didn't really know the other guy and weren't actually with him. When skinny cheese returned he informed Blakey that they should go shopping now so we could cook our evening meal, an offer that Blakey rejected explaining taht we'd already organised ourselves. We felt quite guilty as we tucked in to our pasta at the kitchen table, alongside homemade cakes that the owner had provided to accompany our tea when he came to cook his own food. If he hadn't tried to force himself upon us earlier eatin gtogether would not have been so bad, but we were scared of giving the wrong message now when we knew his plans for the next few motnhs were so similar to ours. We excused ourselves and tried to fall asleep in the bright light of the long evenings that stretch out at this time of year here.
When the alarm went off at 4.15am we begrudgingly hit snooze and then dressed quickly at 4.30. Wrapping ourselves in layers we pulled our coats around our ears as we walked through the dark windy streets, deserted other than for the packs of stray dogs. We soon reached the jeep and our guide and waited for a few minutes for the other couple that would accompany us on the trip.
As we drove across the gravel tracks and through deep rivers to the park the sun started to rise, illuminating the spectacular scenery all around. We soon reached a beautiful turquoise lake and made a quick though strenuos ascent up a nearby hill for a view across to the mountains that framed it so beautfully. By the time we reached the top it was just gone 7am and our lungs had expanded from the activity and detectable freshness of the air leading to a smug feeling of wholesomeness. We descended again with a short detour trackign a woodpecker we could hear through the trees in a most stealthy manner, though she eluded us with no sighting.
Hopping back in the jeep we took a short drive to a new spot from where we would start a 4 and a half hour hike to cueva del manos with its aboriginal cave art and valles del luna, the valley of the moon. Again we wree rewarded with fabulous scenery as rocks projected out of the slopes in dramatic formations, like the 12 Apostles but on dry land. Not only that, but our guide set a pretty speedy pace expecting everyone to keep up with the fastest (him) rather than wait for the slowest (thankfully not us) This attitude gave us quite a work out, it felt really good to push ourselves that bit harder after the indulgence of Christmas and the relative sedentry of January so far.
Upon completing the hike we had a new set of beautiful pictures, some of which looked like a painting from the imagination of a little girl- a flamingo filled lagoon nestled amongst snow capped mountains, horses and donkeys grazing at its shores and a beautiful rainbow arching across the whole thing. I wasn't aware that anything so picture perfect existed in life until then! We also had shots of the strange and phallic rock formaions and across sweeping valleys. We really will have the jammiest photo album in the world when we get back!
When we returned to the jeep we could have kept going, but though it was only just gone lunchtime we realised we'd been out 7 hours when we considered the early morning departure. The return trip saw both of our eyes close, opening blearily when we arrived after what felt like just a couple of minutes. It had been a beautiful morning.
Returning to our hostel we idled away the afternoon taking luxurious hot showers and drinking warm mugs of coffee. We were now alone and so totally relaxed, the most activity coming when the streets outside suddenly filled with cars honking and people waving flags. The Chilean election had taken place today and Pinera named victorious. It was amazing to see how passionate and involved everyone has been in the process. Politics here are taken very seriously by everyone and seem far more important to the average person than party slogans and agendas back home, it's quite inspirational.
As you can imagine, a 4am start led to a suitable early night, and just as well. the next day we were planning to cross into Argentina and faced a pretty long journey to get there.
It was a this point that we first met a character that I'm afrai may come to feature all too often in our blogs, who knows at this stage?! In the room next to us, though with the door wide open so he could strike up conversation with people as they walked past, was a very skinny, very intense guy. After Blakey said hello in the polite way that he always does, he was drawn into a very long and miserable conversation about how awful Chile is, how there's nothing to do here, how this guy had hurt his foor and wouldn't be able to trek and how there was nothing to do in this town. Blake tried to cheer him up by describing the beautiful sunset we had just seen and eventually managed to wrap things up by saying how we were catching the boat in the morning and would need to get some sleep now. This guy was getting the boat too and offered to walk with us. Oh joy!
The next morning as we heaved our bags on we could hear him hanging outside of our room, waiting. Looks like we didn't have a choice then. He regailed us with stories of the expense of travelling and the disappointments he'd faced, stopping every now and again to allow Blakey to offer an opinion. For some reason, perhaps because I can't stand up and go to the toilet, every time I spok he would speak over me quite loudly and deliberately. I was really warming to this chap, as you can imagine.
We boarded the boat and though he sat next to us we were spared more doom and gloom by something quite wonderful. Firstly a tiny boy, no more than 7 years at the oldest, entered the passenger area in a very smart sailor suit with tailored jacket. The little guy addressed the crowd in an astonishingly polite and mature fashion giving us all a choice. We didn't decipher what that choice was but just watching him talk to the other Spanish speakers was entertainment enough. He left briefly and returned to put the large screens on with a copy of Back to the Future. This became extremely exciting when the film was projected in it's original form with Spanish subtitles for the other passengers. Our time on board flew by as we enjoyed remembering just how perfect the adventures of Marty and Doc Brown really are. Fantastic!
Upon enetering port I was growing excited at the prospect of saying goodbye to our new found friend. We disembarked and I pointed out the onward transport that he had intended upon taking. Blakey and I were going to stay here for the night and eplore the little town of Chile Chico. he was being indecisive and just kept following us until we came to a guesthouse where we said goodbye and rang the doorbell. He waited with us. I asked the owner for a room for two and he followed. there were two rooms, one with four beds and the other with three. The owner kindly offered us one and him the other, but he deided to put his bags in the one we were offered. he still hadn't made up his mind but it looked like he was planning to stay the night here now. By this point I was getting a little uncomfortable by this rude guy that was determined to remain in our company and dominate conversations so outwardly asked him if he was going to take the other room. His reply was that if more people come she would let them in so he was going to sleep in here with us! I didn't know what to do, I was looking forward to a shower and was really not prepared to get undressed with him around so I decided I would take the other room and muttered something about a boys and girls dorm.
The next thing we had planned was a walk around town, but the guy waited and waited to come with us. Thinking on our feet we headed to an internet cafe and were prepared to stay there as long as it would take for him to get bored and leave. Eventually it worked and we spent the next half hour talking in disbelief about this stranger that was forcing himself upon us. We christened him skinny cheese as Blakey had misheard his name and thought it was Edam!
Finally free we took a stroll around. Due to its position next to the lake Chile Chico has a micro climate earning the moniker Ciudad del Sol. the bright and clear blue sky paid testament to this and the strong winds were a permanent reminder that we were in Patagonia now. As we wandered we saw great pictures of the nearby Jainemeine National Park, a valley nestled amongst the mountains with lagoons of flamingoes and strange stone formations formed by the harsh erosion of the PAtagonian winds Getting to the park required a guide and a four wheel drive which was expensive, but we'd come this far across the world and were almost guaranteed good weather so we organised ourselves a trip for the next day. As this involved a 5am departure we headed back for the afternoon and Blakey moved his bags in with mine whilst I explained to the owners that we didn't really know the other guy and weren't actually with him. When skinny cheese returned he informed Blakey that they should go shopping now so we could cook our evening meal, an offer that Blakey rejected explaining taht we'd already organised ourselves. We felt quite guilty as we tucked in to our pasta at the kitchen table, alongside homemade cakes that the owner had provided to accompany our tea when he came to cook his own food. If he hadn't tried to force himself upon us earlier eatin gtogether would not have been so bad, but we were scared of giving the wrong message now when we knew his plans for the next few motnhs were so similar to ours. We excused ourselves and tried to fall asleep in the bright light of the long evenings that stretch out at this time of year here.
When the alarm went off at 4.15am we begrudgingly hit snooze and then dressed quickly at 4.30. Wrapping ourselves in layers we pulled our coats around our ears as we walked through the dark windy streets, deserted other than for the packs of stray dogs. We soon reached the jeep and our guide and waited for a few minutes for the other couple that would accompany us on the trip.
As we drove across the gravel tracks and through deep rivers to the park the sun started to rise, illuminating the spectacular scenery all around. We soon reached a beautiful turquoise lake and made a quick though strenuos ascent up a nearby hill for a view across to the mountains that framed it so beautfully. By the time we reached the top it was just gone 7am and our lungs had expanded from the activity and detectable freshness of the air leading to a smug feeling of wholesomeness. We descended again with a short detour trackign a woodpecker we could hear through the trees in a most stealthy manner, though she eluded us with no sighting.
Hopping back in the jeep we took a short drive to a new spot from where we would start a 4 and a half hour hike to cueva del manos with its aboriginal cave art and valles del luna, the valley of the moon. Again we wree rewarded with fabulous scenery as rocks projected out of the slopes in dramatic formations, like the 12 Apostles but on dry land. Not only that, but our guide set a pretty speedy pace expecting everyone to keep up with the fastest (him) rather than wait for the slowest (thankfully not us) This attitude gave us quite a work out, it felt really good to push ourselves that bit harder after the indulgence of Christmas and the relative sedentry of January so far.
Upon completing the hike we had a new set of beautiful pictures, some of which looked like a painting from the imagination of a little girl- a flamingo filled lagoon nestled amongst snow capped mountains, horses and donkeys grazing at its shores and a beautiful rainbow arching across the whole thing. I wasn't aware that anything so picture perfect existed in life until then! We also had shots of the strange and phallic rock formaions and across sweeping valleys. We really will have the jammiest photo album in the world when we get back!
When we returned to the jeep we could have kept going, but though it was only just gone lunchtime we realised we'd been out 7 hours when we considered the early morning departure. The return trip saw both of our eyes close, opening blearily when we arrived after what felt like just a couple of minutes. It had been a beautiful morning.
Returning to our hostel we idled away the afternoon taking luxurious hot showers and drinking warm mugs of coffee. We were now alone and so totally relaxed, the most activity coming when the streets outside suddenly filled with cars honking and people waving flags. The Chilean election had taken place today and Pinera named victorious. It was amazing to see how passionate and involved everyone has been in the process. Politics here are taken very seriously by everyone and seem far more important to the average person than party slogans and agendas back home, it's quite inspirational.
As you can imagine, a 4am start led to a suitable early night, and just as well. the next day we were planning to cross into Argentina and faced a pretty long journey to get there.
Monday 18 January 2010
Wedding's Off!
A few minutes after I had ran full pelt through town like a complete loon I was finally getting my breath back and feeling ready to relax in my seat for the next twenty hours ride over to Coyhaique. As long as I could put up with my chair for that amount of time then there wouldn´t be any other problems. The DVD player kicked up and we had the pleasure of watching a very badly Spanish dubbed John Travolta action film on a TV screen where you could only work out half of the picture. A couple of scenes in with a good handful of people dead, the sound thankfully packed up, though this was unfortunately followed by our bus then breaking down. I don´t know what went wrong but there was all sorts pouring out onto the road and we weren´t going anywhere soon.
Four hours we waited there, sat on the side of the highway praying for rescue. With all that time we did a great deal of talking and planned further new ideas for the wedding. I think by now we must have organised about ten completely different wedding days from start to finish and all of them have fallen flat one way or the other. With so much disappointment it´s always very exciting when we give birth to a whole new idea and become totally fixed on it, building on top all the necessary essentials to make the day perfect. At the point where another bus came to pick us up we had all the right pieces to make our new plan work.
Our new bus had plenty more space for my dangly spider legs and a television that actually worked, which soon clearly displayed Travolta´s gun pumping macho `Taking of Pelham 123` drivel from the very start again. To be fair it did keep us amused, but when the film finished the DVD player was on loop so the film started to play back for what would be our third viewing. We looked around slightly bewildered at others on the bus hoping they might tell the conductor, but nothing was said so we rest our heads back and accepted our fate. One guess to what happened after the film finally ended? It´s fourth run through. I was seriously contemplating whether I would have more fun should I lock myself in the sticky urine carpeted, poo splatted bus toilet, but thankfully a fellow passenger informed the conductor and it was turned off. There were only so many times I could annoy Laura by saying the lines before they happened on screen!
After a quick stop to stretch our legs and get our passports checked at border control we headed into Argentina. For the next five hours we were subjected to a further two action films starring wrestling legends John Cena and The Rock, which will always spell disaster. I´m making our journey sound unbearable but whilst we were being visually tortured inside our bus, outside of it couldn´t have looked any more stunning. The scenery here was starting to deliver what we had hoped for and to make the landscape of jagged, giant sized mountains and gorgeous deep blue lakes seem even more impressive was the eye melting sunset that night. Quite possibly the most jaw dropping sky I´ve seen yet. It was like the heavens were filling up with red molten lava exploding the clouds into ginormous, multicoloured, puffing, spaceship shaped invaders from another galaxy. Our photos didn´t do it justice so you´ll have to trust me when I say I was truly excitable.
It had taken us both a good two hours to find a comfy position to sleep in last night but we woke the next day feeling pretty cheerful considering we had at least five hours drive ahead. The journey went quick though and we were soon passed the border crossing back into Chile with us looking a bit smug amount the amount of passport stamps we now have from around the world.
Almost 25 hours had gone by since we left Puerto Montt and we finally arrived in Coyhaique. We found ourselves a cosy, if slightly pricey hostel and went straight out to town to find an Internet to unravel our new plans to our parents, to hopefully resolve once and for all our on going marriage situation. The first thing we read in our inbox wasn´t a great start, as a few prices came through for the marquee and furniture we had fallen in love with- it was triple the cost of what the website had said. After conversations back home it became clear that our new bus brainstorm idea wouldn´t be possible either, causing more than a few headaches. In fact we had just spilled over boiling point and what was meant to be such a special day was now turning into something we just wanted to completely forget about altogether. Our ecstatic buzz had turned into more of a harsh comedown ever since our original venue was cancelled putting everything upside down, but now after a dozen more ideas have fizzled out too all our hope was gone with tensions now starting to build between the two of us. It was also swamping our travelling motivation into a boggy marsh as we were spending far too much time in front of a computer screen trying to resolve the situation instead of seeing the delights that surrounded us. Something had to change.
What followed that night was our first argument since we left England five months ago- damn good going considering we´ve been with each other 24/7 for all that time. It didn´t help that we had spent the last entire day on a bus and were both completely knackered either. After many hours deciding we agreed to leave everything ´wedding` until we got back home and to concentrate on our amazing journey we had planned as there is a gigantic swarm of delights to come our way soon. With everything now clear in our minds we snuggled up, watched a pap film and got a good night´s rest.
My brain felt a lot lighter the next morning and we were both happily in each others arms, but we were still focused on recapturing our travelling momentum. That was until we found our bus wouldn't leave until 7pm and it chucked it down with rain again. We ended up back in an Internet cafe- ooops, but it gave Laura the chance to have a much overdue girly chat with Danni which further helped put things back on track. It wasn´t too long until we were back outside though, and we headed off on a long walk around the lovely viewpoints of Coyhaique. We took a stroll out to the nearby river that winds its way down from the hills that are (expectedly) scattered everywhere along the spine of Chile and stopped for a tasty bite in a restaurant to treat ourselves. By the end of the day our heads were feeling revived again as we clambered into the mini van ready for the next part of our big adventure.
Four hours we waited there, sat on the side of the highway praying for rescue. With all that time we did a great deal of talking and planned further new ideas for the wedding. I think by now we must have organised about ten completely different wedding days from start to finish and all of them have fallen flat one way or the other. With so much disappointment it´s always very exciting when we give birth to a whole new idea and become totally fixed on it, building on top all the necessary essentials to make the day perfect. At the point where another bus came to pick us up we had all the right pieces to make our new plan work.
Our new bus had plenty more space for my dangly spider legs and a television that actually worked, which soon clearly displayed Travolta´s gun pumping macho `Taking of Pelham 123` drivel from the very start again. To be fair it did keep us amused, but when the film finished the DVD player was on loop so the film started to play back for what would be our third viewing. We looked around slightly bewildered at others on the bus hoping they might tell the conductor, but nothing was said so we rest our heads back and accepted our fate. One guess to what happened after the film finally ended? It´s fourth run through. I was seriously contemplating whether I would have more fun should I lock myself in the sticky urine carpeted, poo splatted bus toilet, but thankfully a fellow passenger informed the conductor and it was turned off. There were only so many times I could annoy Laura by saying the lines before they happened on screen!
After a quick stop to stretch our legs and get our passports checked at border control we headed into Argentina. For the next five hours we were subjected to a further two action films starring wrestling legends John Cena and The Rock, which will always spell disaster. I´m making our journey sound unbearable but whilst we were being visually tortured inside our bus, outside of it couldn´t have looked any more stunning. The scenery here was starting to deliver what we had hoped for and to make the landscape of jagged, giant sized mountains and gorgeous deep blue lakes seem even more impressive was the eye melting sunset that night. Quite possibly the most jaw dropping sky I´ve seen yet. It was like the heavens were filling up with red molten lava exploding the clouds into ginormous, multicoloured, puffing, spaceship shaped invaders from another galaxy. Our photos didn´t do it justice so you´ll have to trust me when I say I was truly excitable.
It had taken us both a good two hours to find a comfy position to sleep in last night but we woke the next day feeling pretty cheerful considering we had at least five hours drive ahead. The journey went quick though and we were soon passed the border crossing back into Chile with us looking a bit smug amount the amount of passport stamps we now have from around the world.
Almost 25 hours had gone by since we left Puerto Montt and we finally arrived in Coyhaique. We found ourselves a cosy, if slightly pricey hostel and went straight out to town to find an Internet to unravel our new plans to our parents, to hopefully resolve once and for all our on going marriage situation. The first thing we read in our inbox wasn´t a great start, as a few prices came through for the marquee and furniture we had fallen in love with- it was triple the cost of what the website had said. After conversations back home it became clear that our new bus brainstorm idea wouldn´t be possible either, causing more than a few headaches. In fact we had just spilled over boiling point and what was meant to be such a special day was now turning into something we just wanted to completely forget about altogether. Our ecstatic buzz had turned into more of a harsh comedown ever since our original venue was cancelled putting everything upside down, but now after a dozen more ideas have fizzled out too all our hope was gone with tensions now starting to build between the two of us. It was also swamping our travelling motivation into a boggy marsh as we were spending far too much time in front of a computer screen trying to resolve the situation instead of seeing the delights that surrounded us. Something had to change.
What followed that night was our first argument since we left England five months ago- damn good going considering we´ve been with each other 24/7 for all that time. It didn´t help that we had spent the last entire day on a bus and were both completely knackered either. After many hours deciding we agreed to leave everything ´wedding` until we got back home and to concentrate on our amazing journey we had planned as there is a gigantic swarm of delights to come our way soon. With everything now clear in our minds we snuggled up, watched a pap film and got a good night´s rest.
My brain felt a lot lighter the next morning and we were both happily in each others arms, but we were still focused on recapturing our travelling momentum. That was until we found our bus wouldn't leave until 7pm and it chucked it down with rain again. We ended up back in an Internet cafe- ooops, but it gave Laura the chance to have a much overdue girly chat with Danni which further helped put things back on track. It wasn´t too long until we were back outside though, and we headed off on a long walk around the lovely viewpoints of Coyhaique. We took a stroll out to the nearby river that winds its way down from the hills that are (expectedly) scattered everywhere along the spine of Chile and stopped for a tasty bite in a restaurant to treat ourselves. By the end of the day our heads were feeling revived again as we clambered into the mini van ready for the next part of our big adventure.
Friday 15 January 2010
Hostal of Doom?!
Castro had ended up a little catastrophic and even when we came to leave it lived up to it´s name. We did not have our passports on us when we went to buy our tickets South and we returned with them later the tickets had all gone. It was clear we had to get out of here so we ended up catching a bus back to the mainland and the transport hub of Puerto Montt.
We had heard of the town´s reputation as a little unsafe so upon arrival we concocted a plan where I would run to buy our onward tickets whilst Blakey waited for the bags to unload, minimising our time in the station with all our luggage. Success! I secured our onward tickets but we were in Puerto Montt for two nights. Now to find something to do with our time.
As we were about to leave we were approached by a very smartly dressed older lady with an offer of accomodation. Trusting these circumstances to fate after all this time we huffed and puffed our way up the nearby super-steep hill to her house, where we were greeted with a cosy looking sitting room and were shown upstairs to an average bedroom with the bonus of super clean looking sheets. As she didn´t have the minimal change we were due she threw in breakfast and we had found our lodgings for the night.
It was well gone lunchtime by this point and Blakey was slipping into an irritable mood induced by lack of blood sugar. We headed for the streets in search of sustenance and despite the hunger, both realised all the excitement had returned with our arrival in a new town. The sun was out and the streets were busy with activity- fruit and vegetable stalls, buskers and many more people than in the sleeping Chiloe island towns. It was not a particualarly pleasant town, in fact it was quite grotty and had a slight edge to it that is difficult to describe, but that is what made it interesting and different. It was like all the headaches of Castro were lifting. However, the grottiness did lead us to reject each cafe we passed and we ended up stocking up in a supermarket instead.
On the way back a quick stop in an internet cafe led to a brief conversation with Blakey´s brother Alex. Not taking how the lack of tone of voice on internet chat can lead to misinterpretation we managed to thoroughly worry him by joking about our lack of phone and money (and for the sake of hyperbole, clothes and food) After reassuring him that it was in fact a joke and describing how Chilean hospitality extends to homemade cakes and biscuits the pessimistic bastard implied that they are probably drug laced in a bid to steal our organs and sell them on the black market. Nice.
The previous comments would not usually have much significance, but upon our return to our hostel were fresh in our minds and you will see how they may have influenced our imagination. We let ourselves in and our hostess was out- we were alone in the house. We headed straight to the kitchen to prepare our long over due lunch. All the lights were off and an eerie shadow was cast by the sheets hanging around the room. It felt naughty helping ourselves to things in her kitchen but she had offered its use so I opened a cupboard in search of a couple of mugs. Right at eye level in the first place I looked, on top of a pile of plates, was a huge chunk of raw meat. A massive lump of flesh and bone. It didn´t look like a regular cut and it was just there, no cover, amongst the crockery. I called Blakey, questioning if Alex was actually right on the money. It was at that moment that our eyes turned to the sink. In a large saucepan, covered in water, was a big sheet of skin. Oh my. And on the cooker, an extremely sharp knife with a dirty blade.
Not feeling quite as comfortable in the kitchen we decided to simplify our planned meal and make sandwiches instead. I headed back to the sitting room and started. Blakey entered and his eye immediately hit a huge spanner in the corner of the room and then a large red stain partially obscured by the rug! On the mantelpiece was a much younger picture of our hostess- maybe taken in the 60s. I know its just because of the era it was taken, but it bought to mind those awful pictures of renouned serial killers with the spooky eyes. All these discoveries were immediately followed by a melodramatic enactment caugt on camera- stupidly we didn´t think to use the camcorder too!
It was starting to get quite late in the afternoon now. We had arranged a chat with Blakey´s mum on the internet so we headed back to town to talk with her and managed to catch up with a few other friends before returning to the hostel of doom! However, this time our hostess was in, the kitchen had been cleaned, the sheets removed and the cosy lights were on as she watched TV over the kitchen table with a cup of tea and a comforting heater in use next to the chairs. In reality, with her in the house, it was wonderfully comfortable and welcoming. We prepared our meal and ate at the table with her, where we spent the rest of the evening. She was an expert communicator, never making it obvious if she was struggling to understand and reassuring when she did with plenty of nods and smiles. She chatted away using simple, accessible Spanish and reacting to the TV in a way that made even the fast paced chatter of the characters easier to comprehend. All this was interspersed with the humour created by the other member of the household, her excitable sausage dog Gypsy. As Gupsy wriggled his ridiculously extended bum and yapped away she affectionately repeated "Gypsy! No!" with absolutely no effect at all. It was clear she doted on him.
When we creapt under our covers that evening, our bellies full of all the cups of tea she had provided and bodies warmed by the wonderful heating stove, we reflected on how one character like that can spark all the excitement in travelling again. She provided a little home space for us all this way across the world and had shared her evening with us. Wonderfully cosy, we slept happily and well.
After breakfast with Graciela and Gypsy we planned a visit to a nearby National Park, but a quick internet check quickly changed these plans. Thankfully this time it was nothing to do with the dreaded wedding, but my application to do a Masters degree had received an invitation to interview and the distance procedings required a 500 word essay, notes on my response to a picture of a muddy puddle and a three minute video. Blakey was more than happy to spend an afternoon playing with Gypsy and attempting Sudoku puzzles (he has graduated to advanced now!) whilst I whipped out my best vocabulary and tried and tested devising processes. By the end of the afternoon responses had been emailed, along with a link to my uploaded YouTube video, and fingers were firmly crossed.
By the time that had finished Graciela returned to the house with a Japanese tourist in tow. The poor guy had neglected to pack a jumper for Chile and was pretty shocked by the cold weather. He was suffering with a sore throat and she soon plonked him down atthe kitchen table to get him hot drinks, blankets and the stove was put to good use again. I added the rest of the pack of spaghetti to trhe dinner I was cooking in an attempt to cater for everyone- a decision that led to me serving some embarrassingly stodgy pasta but that everyone else managed to have seconds of, so it can´t have been too bad.
The rest of the evening was spent with the four of us chatting in a mixture of Spanish and English with grammar thrown out the window. the Japanese guy was extremely friendly and to Blakey´s delight interested in all sorts of music. The iPod was whipped out with various things sampled and he gigglingly translated the names of Japanese tracks acquired from our travels there to much amusement.
When we went to bed that night we were sad to be leaving so soon the next morning. Admittedly we had not explored the geography of Puerto Montt, but the company we had found made it worth the journey. We felt thoroughly relaxed and revived.
After breakfast, photgraphs and goodbyes the next morning we heaved our bags on our backs and were grateful to be travelling down the hill this time. We arrived at the station in plenty of time and treated ourselves to the delicious smelling warm caramel nuts that are on sale at many street corners here. Eventually the bus arrived and we settled into our comfy seats ready for the 20 hour journey ahead. Finally we were going to hit the spectacular Southern Patagonia.
But Puerto Montt had one more challenge for us. 10 minutes before our departure as we reached for our iPods (in case of loud fellow passengers) Blakey suddenly realised that the DS was still charging in Graciela´s sitting room! Oh poo- Sudoku has been fantastic and wihtou the DS how would i ever attempt Professor Layton´s futre puzzles?! A quick decision had to be made- Blakey was going to attempt to sprint up the hill and retrieve the treasure whilst I waited on the bus with the bags and did what was necessary to ensure we did not depart without my most treasured travelling possession- my man! As the time ticked by I started to panic- I got off and explained to the driver "My boyfriend, gone, back soon!" My friendly driver comforted me "We have time, and if he doesn´t get back, I´ll be your boyfriend!" He wasn´t quite what I was use to but I was prepared to settle until I saw a sweaty panting blonde boy run past. As I called out Blake turned and smiled. Mission accomplished, and a few minutes to catch his breath before we left Puerto Montt.
We had heard of the town´s reputation as a little unsafe so upon arrival we concocted a plan where I would run to buy our onward tickets whilst Blakey waited for the bags to unload, minimising our time in the station with all our luggage. Success! I secured our onward tickets but we were in Puerto Montt for two nights. Now to find something to do with our time.
As we were about to leave we were approached by a very smartly dressed older lady with an offer of accomodation. Trusting these circumstances to fate after all this time we huffed and puffed our way up the nearby super-steep hill to her house, where we were greeted with a cosy looking sitting room and were shown upstairs to an average bedroom with the bonus of super clean looking sheets. As she didn´t have the minimal change we were due she threw in breakfast and we had found our lodgings for the night.
It was well gone lunchtime by this point and Blakey was slipping into an irritable mood induced by lack of blood sugar. We headed for the streets in search of sustenance and despite the hunger, both realised all the excitement had returned with our arrival in a new town. The sun was out and the streets were busy with activity- fruit and vegetable stalls, buskers and many more people than in the sleeping Chiloe island towns. It was not a particualarly pleasant town, in fact it was quite grotty and had a slight edge to it that is difficult to describe, but that is what made it interesting and different. It was like all the headaches of Castro were lifting. However, the grottiness did lead us to reject each cafe we passed and we ended up stocking up in a supermarket instead.
On the way back a quick stop in an internet cafe led to a brief conversation with Blakey´s brother Alex. Not taking how the lack of tone of voice on internet chat can lead to misinterpretation we managed to thoroughly worry him by joking about our lack of phone and money (and for the sake of hyperbole, clothes and food) After reassuring him that it was in fact a joke and describing how Chilean hospitality extends to homemade cakes and biscuits the pessimistic bastard implied that they are probably drug laced in a bid to steal our organs and sell them on the black market. Nice.
The previous comments would not usually have much significance, but upon our return to our hostel were fresh in our minds and you will see how they may have influenced our imagination. We let ourselves in and our hostess was out- we were alone in the house. We headed straight to the kitchen to prepare our long over due lunch. All the lights were off and an eerie shadow was cast by the sheets hanging around the room. It felt naughty helping ourselves to things in her kitchen but she had offered its use so I opened a cupboard in search of a couple of mugs. Right at eye level in the first place I looked, on top of a pile of plates, was a huge chunk of raw meat. A massive lump of flesh and bone. It didn´t look like a regular cut and it was just there, no cover, amongst the crockery. I called Blakey, questioning if Alex was actually right on the money. It was at that moment that our eyes turned to the sink. In a large saucepan, covered in water, was a big sheet of skin. Oh my. And on the cooker, an extremely sharp knife with a dirty blade.
Not feeling quite as comfortable in the kitchen we decided to simplify our planned meal and make sandwiches instead. I headed back to the sitting room and started. Blakey entered and his eye immediately hit a huge spanner in the corner of the room and then a large red stain partially obscured by the rug! On the mantelpiece was a much younger picture of our hostess- maybe taken in the 60s. I know its just because of the era it was taken, but it bought to mind those awful pictures of renouned serial killers with the spooky eyes. All these discoveries were immediately followed by a melodramatic enactment caugt on camera- stupidly we didn´t think to use the camcorder too!
It was starting to get quite late in the afternoon now. We had arranged a chat with Blakey´s mum on the internet so we headed back to town to talk with her and managed to catch up with a few other friends before returning to the hostel of doom! However, this time our hostess was in, the kitchen had been cleaned, the sheets removed and the cosy lights were on as she watched TV over the kitchen table with a cup of tea and a comforting heater in use next to the chairs. In reality, with her in the house, it was wonderfully comfortable and welcoming. We prepared our meal and ate at the table with her, where we spent the rest of the evening. She was an expert communicator, never making it obvious if she was struggling to understand and reassuring when she did with plenty of nods and smiles. She chatted away using simple, accessible Spanish and reacting to the TV in a way that made even the fast paced chatter of the characters easier to comprehend. All this was interspersed with the humour created by the other member of the household, her excitable sausage dog Gypsy. As Gupsy wriggled his ridiculously extended bum and yapped away she affectionately repeated "Gypsy! No!" with absolutely no effect at all. It was clear she doted on him.
When we creapt under our covers that evening, our bellies full of all the cups of tea she had provided and bodies warmed by the wonderful heating stove, we reflected on how one character like that can spark all the excitement in travelling again. She provided a little home space for us all this way across the world and had shared her evening with us. Wonderfully cosy, we slept happily and well.
After breakfast with Graciela and Gypsy we planned a visit to a nearby National Park, but a quick internet check quickly changed these plans. Thankfully this time it was nothing to do with the dreaded wedding, but my application to do a Masters degree had received an invitation to interview and the distance procedings required a 500 word essay, notes on my response to a picture of a muddy puddle and a three minute video. Blakey was more than happy to spend an afternoon playing with Gypsy and attempting Sudoku puzzles (he has graduated to advanced now!) whilst I whipped out my best vocabulary and tried and tested devising processes. By the end of the afternoon responses had been emailed, along with a link to my uploaded YouTube video, and fingers were firmly crossed.
By the time that had finished Graciela returned to the house with a Japanese tourist in tow. The poor guy had neglected to pack a jumper for Chile and was pretty shocked by the cold weather. He was suffering with a sore throat and she soon plonked him down atthe kitchen table to get him hot drinks, blankets and the stove was put to good use again. I added the rest of the pack of spaghetti to trhe dinner I was cooking in an attempt to cater for everyone- a decision that led to me serving some embarrassingly stodgy pasta but that everyone else managed to have seconds of, so it can´t have been too bad.
The rest of the evening was spent with the four of us chatting in a mixture of Spanish and English with grammar thrown out the window. the Japanese guy was extremely friendly and to Blakey´s delight interested in all sorts of music. The iPod was whipped out with various things sampled and he gigglingly translated the names of Japanese tracks acquired from our travels there to much amusement.
When we went to bed that night we were sad to be leaving so soon the next morning. Admittedly we had not explored the geography of Puerto Montt, but the company we had found made it worth the journey. We felt thoroughly relaxed and revived.
After breakfast, photgraphs and goodbyes the next morning we heaved our bags on our backs and were grateful to be travelling down the hill this time. We arrived at the station in plenty of time and treated ourselves to the delicious smelling warm caramel nuts that are on sale at many street corners here. Eventually the bus arrived and we settled into our comfy seats ready for the 20 hour journey ahead. Finally we were going to hit the spectacular Southern Patagonia.
But Puerto Montt had one more challenge for us. 10 minutes before our departure as we reached for our iPods (in case of loud fellow passengers) Blakey suddenly realised that the DS was still charging in Graciela´s sitting room! Oh poo- Sudoku has been fantastic and wihtou the DS how would i ever attempt Professor Layton´s futre puzzles?! A quick decision had to be made- Blakey was going to attempt to sprint up the hill and retrieve the treasure whilst I waited on the bus with the bags and did what was necessary to ensure we did not depart without my most treasured travelling possession- my man! As the time ticked by I started to panic- I got off and explained to the driver "My boyfriend, gone, back soon!" My friendly driver comforted me "We have time, and if he doesn´t get back, I´ll be your boyfriend!" He wasn´t quite what I was use to but I was prepared to settle until I saw a sweaty panting blonde boy run past. As I called out Blake turned and smiled. Mission accomplished, and a few minutes to catch his breath before we left Puerto Montt.
Tuesday 12 January 2010
Un-home stay
I swear the alarm clock went off two hours earlier than it was meant to this morning. I shook my head from side to side in disbelief, kicking my feet up and down in the bed like a boy who didn´t want to go to school and rolled over with the duvet over my face. Laura somehow manged to slip out of our cozy furnace and dressed before the ice cold air froze her bits off.
With the thought of missing Mrs Carmen´s almighty breakfast I got up swiftly and headed downstairs to fill myself again. Before either of us had made it to the kitchen disaster struck. One woman who we have not met or spoken to ever before managed to crap our three months worth of wedding planning out of her arse and flush them into oblivion. Laura had received an email saying that with the recent cold weather the barn we had reserved no longer felt able to guarantee a successful day.The vicar had been booked, save the dates sent and and now we were back to square one. You can imagine our mood!
Breakfast followed with us both looking like children who had just had their favourite toy taken away and no amount of biscuits and cake was going to put a smile back on our faces. We packed our bags, grumbling to ourselves, and bid farewell to the lovely hosts of "Su Casa".
An hours worth of bus ride and some serious brainstorming later and we reached Castro. Within a few minutes of walking the highstreet we´d been spotted by a hostal owner named Sylvia who highly recommended her own place. We followed her and were presented with a nicely decorated though somewhat about to collapse from subsistence house, and agreed to stay the next two nights.
Our heads were a complete jumble so we thought a call home to our parents might inspire some new ideas. Although unable to resolve anything at this time- all the other places we had considered were now booked solid- it was nice to speak things through and get everything off our chests. Talking made us both feel calmer, that is, until we were told the cost- $30! Back in Valparaiso we had taken far longer to create a $5 bill and so relaxed this time. It was not a good day!
Whilst all of this was going on there was another painful annoyance- my eyes. For the last week or so my eyeballs have had serious issues dealing with daylight and now even a dim lamp was making me squint. Today I looked like I had been crying non stop for a month with my eyes so bloodshot you couldn´t see the white anymore. With the fear I might be turning into something from Resident Evil we checked the streets for a pharmacy. After some pretty good Spanish from Laura and a great deal of hand gestures I got myself a weeny $20 bottle of hopeful cure.
With my fingers fighting against my eyelids I managed the few drops and literally ten minutes after the stinging had stopped I was feeling half human again. Now all we need was an antidote for our wedding. With that going round and round in our minds we spent the rest of the drizzly day planning and conjuring magical solutions until we couldn´t keep our bodies awake any longer.
The plan the next morning was to catch a bus over to the national park, but outside it looked pretty foul with the wind and rain pounding down on our corrugated iron roof- it sounded like a typhoon outside. A few minutes later and something like an air raid siren went off, and even though no one seemed to panic we decided perhaps to spend our time in side today.
Our homestay host had offered us kitchen use to make coffee or whatever. As we had sugar and milk Laura politely asked if we might have one tea bag to share betwen our two cups. I had asked for one the night before and got a slight look that made me think I shouldn´t have, but didn´t mention it to Laura as I thought I was being paranoid. Laura got the same response and whilst she made the brew heard the owner mutter to another guest in spanish how she had said without breakfast. We didn´t ask for anymore and decided to go to a supermarket to repay her the two precious teabags.
After a short walk around Castro we returned and not only gave her tea back, we made her an extra cup too. When I went in the cupboard to get a mug I noticed that she had removed her full box and hidden it somewhere. We then went into the hall and used the computer (her main selling point to us- free internet, use when you like). Sylvia seemed in a bit of a huff about this too, making us feel even more uncomfortable. Worst of all was the fact that full rolls of toilet paper were here one minute and then gone the next- was she hiding them from us? This led to a rather vomit worthy situation as Laura has been experiencing an unfortunately squirty bum resulting in a constant path back and forth from the bathroom (tuna?!) Realising that the roll had been removed her only option was to use dirty tissue from the waster paper bin, followed by copious amounts of handwashing and antibacterial wash. Subsequent visits were accompanied by a wad of cotton wool, but we were starting to feel quite unwelcome and spent the night in our room.
It was still as cold the next day but there was a hint of blue in the sky and the rain stopped so we got ready for an afternoon away from the tight arsed witch. We had a super quick check on the net after coming up with a possible wedding solution the previous day, then got our boots on after a quick breakfast. When we left our room again we noticed that the computer had now been unplugged by Sylvia. We tutted to each other and headed for the station.
When we arrrived there was a bus just leaving with a sign "Al Parque". We asked if it was going to the national park to which the driver said "yes". Something felt wrong so we asked again, "Parque National de Chiloe?" and again "Si, si!" We got on, chuffed we didn´t have to wait long and sat down for the hour it should talke to get there. 5 minutes later the driver indicated the park to us- something that looked more like a building site. This clearly wasn´t it but we got out to see where he taken us instead. There was definately something going on in the "municiple" parque as the car park ahead ws almost full and as we walked further down the road a delicious smell of meat wafted past our noses- something that didn´t excite Laura but we both felt we had stumbled across something interesting. It looked like a mini festival with a stage set up and some top of the range speakers and instruments and all around were huts selling interesting jewellery, loads of wooly clothes, huge chunks of meat and homemade cakes awithpeople getting sloshed on beer- perfect! After walking around the stalls it semed we stumbled on a Sunday afternoon fete, until a woman began introducing people to the stage. A host of men in suits took to the platform and started to give speeches we could not understand, though the slow progression to angry and impassionate tones was somewhat reminisent of Hitler- this was a political rally! A few more people came to the stand and got themselves worked up about situations in Chile, and Laura remembered reading in the guide how politics in South America can be a little impassioned, sometimes leading to police using tear gas to disperse the crowds. Being surrounded by families and young children made us feel safe but we weren´t going to take any chances!
We had finally found a bus back to town after moving from one stop to another and then managed to board one to the actual National Park. It wasn´t long after stepping out that the fresh air had blown away our tense headaches and we continued through a wonderful colourful forest to a beach. The wind was so strong that it was causing storms across the whole stretch of coast and soon enough we had grains up our noses, in our ears and every mouth movement resulted in a crunch. We collapsed there and watched horses ride by the thunderous waves up ahead. It was all lovely but things were still playing around in our heads about the wedding so we were slightly lacking in motivation. We got up though, and trekked on uneven log paths carved through a moss covered wood hoping to spot some diverse wildlife. We didn´t, but we had fun creeping around like hunters anyway.
After a good leg workout we caught the last bus home which soon became full to the rafters with people crammed down the aisles and a couple of drunk men pouring wine over other passengers, much to everyone´s disproval. It seemed the merriness was catching, as back at the hostal Sylvia and some friends were tucking into an alcoholic beverage and it was the first time I´d seen her smile- she even offered me some. For a brief moment everything seemed great until Laura told me that our plans to bring the wedding date forward were not going to work (the barn lady had also given the wrong number regarding guests, so if we were to stick with her we would have to uninvite people) and there was now a fat sign on the computer with how much it costs per hour. It was a bit of a last straw for Laura who flopped down on the bed in tears. We both wanted to just go home for a couple of days and sort it all out, as well as be in a house that was comfortable and familiar. It would be so good to see our family and friends for a day or two, then come back with our heads clear and ready to enjoy ourselves again. Maybe a change of scenery would do us good as when we were to head to Pueto Montt the following day?
With the thought of missing Mrs Carmen´s almighty breakfast I got up swiftly and headed downstairs to fill myself again. Before either of us had made it to the kitchen disaster struck. One woman who we have not met or spoken to ever before managed to crap our three months worth of wedding planning out of her arse and flush them into oblivion. Laura had received an email saying that with the recent cold weather the barn we had reserved no longer felt able to guarantee a successful day.The vicar had been booked, save the dates sent and and now we were back to square one. You can imagine our mood!
Breakfast followed with us both looking like children who had just had their favourite toy taken away and no amount of biscuits and cake was going to put a smile back on our faces. We packed our bags, grumbling to ourselves, and bid farewell to the lovely hosts of "Su Casa".
An hours worth of bus ride and some serious brainstorming later and we reached Castro. Within a few minutes of walking the highstreet we´d been spotted by a hostal owner named Sylvia who highly recommended her own place. We followed her and were presented with a nicely decorated though somewhat about to collapse from subsistence house, and agreed to stay the next two nights.
Our heads were a complete jumble so we thought a call home to our parents might inspire some new ideas. Although unable to resolve anything at this time- all the other places we had considered were now booked solid- it was nice to speak things through and get everything off our chests. Talking made us both feel calmer, that is, until we were told the cost- $30! Back in Valparaiso we had taken far longer to create a $5 bill and so relaxed this time. It was not a good day!
Whilst all of this was going on there was another painful annoyance- my eyes. For the last week or so my eyeballs have had serious issues dealing with daylight and now even a dim lamp was making me squint. Today I looked like I had been crying non stop for a month with my eyes so bloodshot you couldn´t see the white anymore. With the fear I might be turning into something from Resident Evil we checked the streets for a pharmacy. After some pretty good Spanish from Laura and a great deal of hand gestures I got myself a weeny $20 bottle of hopeful cure.
With my fingers fighting against my eyelids I managed the few drops and literally ten minutes after the stinging had stopped I was feeling half human again. Now all we need was an antidote for our wedding. With that going round and round in our minds we spent the rest of the drizzly day planning and conjuring magical solutions until we couldn´t keep our bodies awake any longer.
The plan the next morning was to catch a bus over to the national park, but outside it looked pretty foul with the wind and rain pounding down on our corrugated iron roof- it sounded like a typhoon outside. A few minutes later and something like an air raid siren went off, and even though no one seemed to panic we decided perhaps to spend our time in side today.
Our homestay host had offered us kitchen use to make coffee or whatever. As we had sugar and milk Laura politely asked if we might have one tea bag to share betwen our two cups. I had asked for one the night before and got a slight look that made me think I shouldn´t have, but didn´t mention it to Laura as I thought I was being paranoid. Laura got the same response and whilst she made the brew heard the owner mutter to another guest in spanish how she had said without breakfast. We didn´t ask for anymore and decided to go to a supermarket to repay her the two precious teabags.
After a short walk around Castro we returned and not only gave her tea back, we made her an extra cup too. When I went in the cupboard to get a mug I noticed that she had removed her full box and hidden it somewhere. We then went into the hall and used the computer (her main selling point to us- free internet, use when you like). Sylvia seemed in a bit of a huff about this too, making us feel even more uncomfortable. Worst of all was the fact that full rolls of toilet paper were here one minute and then gone the next- was she hiding them from us? This led to a rather vomit worthy situation as Laura has been experiencing an unfortunately squirty bum resulting in a constant path back and forth from the bathroom (tuna?!) Realising that the roll had been removed her only option was to use dirty tissue from the waster paper bin, followed by copious amounts of handwashing and antibacterial wash. Subsequent visits were accompanied by a wad of cotton wool, but we were starting to feel quite unwelcome and spent the night in our room.
It was still as cold the next day but there was a hint of blue in the sky and the rain stopped so we got ready for an afternoon away from the tight arsed witch. We had a super quick check on the net after coming up with a possible wedding solution the previous day, then got our boots on after a quick breakfast. When we left our room again we noticed that the computer had now been unplugged by Sylvia. We tutted to each other and headed for the station.
When we arrrived there was a bus just leaving with a sign "Al Parque". We asked if it was going to the national park to which the driver said "yes". Something felt wrong so we asked again, "Parque National de Chiloe?" and again "Si, si!" We got on, chuffed we didn´t have to wait long and sat down for the hour it should talke to get there. 5 minutes later the driver indicated the park to us- something that looked more like a building site. This clearly wasn´t it but we got out to see where he taken us instead. There was definately something going on in the "municiple" parque as the car park ahead ws almost full and as we walked further down the road a delicious smell of meat wafted past our noses- something that didn´t excite Laura but we both felt we had stumbled across something interesting. It looked like a mini festival with a stage set up and some top of the range speakers and instruments and all around were huts selling interesting jewellery, loads of wooly clothes, huge chunks of meat and homemade cakes awithpeople getting sloshed on beer- perfect! After walking around the stalls it semed we stumbled on a Sunday afternoon fete, until a woman began introducing people to the stage. A host of men in suits took to the platform and started to give speeches we could not understand, though the slow progression to angry and impassionate tones was somewhat reminisent of Hitler- this was a political rally! A few more people came to the stand and got themselves worked up about situations in Chile, and Laura remembered reading in the guide how politics in South America can be a little impassioned, sometimes leading to police using tear gas to disperse the crowds. Being surrounded by families and young children made us feel safe but we weren´t going to take any chances!
We had finally found a bus back to town after moving from one stop to another and then managed to board one to the actual National Park. It wasn´t long after stepping out that the fresh air had blown away our tense headaches and we continued through a wonderful colourful forest to a beach. The wind was so strong that it was causing storms across the whole stretch of coast and soon enough we had grains up our noses, in our ears and every mouth movement resulted in a crunch. We collapsed there and watched horses ride by the thunderous waves up ahead. It was all lovely but things were still playing around in our heads about the wedding so we were slightly lacking in motivation. We got up though, and trekked on uneven log paths carved through a moss covered wood hoping to spot some diverse wildlife. We didn´t, but we had fun creeping around like hunters anyway.
After a good leg workout we caught the last bus home which soon became full to the rafters with people crammed down the aisles and a couple of drunk men pouring wine over other passengers, much to everyone´s disproval. It seemed the merriness was catching, as back at the hostal Sylvia and some friends were tucking into an alcoholic beverage and it was the first time I´d seen her smile- she even offered me some. For a brief moment everything seemed great until Laura told me that our plans to bring the wedding date forward were not going to work (the barn lady had also given the wrong number regarding guests, so if we were to stick with her we would have to uninvite people) and there was now a fat sign on the computer with how much it costs per hour. It was a bit of a last straw for Laura who flopped down on the bed in tears. We both wanted to just go home for a couple of days and sort it all out, as well as be in a house that was comfortable and familiar. It would be so good to see our family and friends for a day or two, then come back with our heads clear and ready to enjoy ourselves again. Maybe a change of scenery would do us good as when we were to head to Pueto Montt the following day?
Saturday 9 January 2010
Anything but Tuna!
Well I certainly hope that our parents got a good nights sleep as they would have been so pleased to see us in Ancud! However, we had to get there first. Settled into our plush chairs and luxuriating in the available leg room we were set to travel in style. No sooner had the bus conductor come to collect our tickets from us we suddenly heard a gut clenching heave, followed a split second later by the kind of splatter which ensured everyone on the bus knew what had happened. Whilst the conductor struggled to keep his face pleasant and welcoming (though the revolution that we all felt was traceable in his eyes) a domino effect of passengers grabbing their bags from the floor occurred whilst the rancid pile slid down the bus. For the next hour many of us held our sleeves over our noses in an attempt to mask the smell of the insides of someone else's stomach- an experience which made maintaining our own insides that little bit more difficult.
The situation was then aggravated further. I was listening to Blakey´s ipod when the bus turned and it fell down the side of my chair. Trying to coax it in gently like a fish on a hook with my headphones my heart sank as I heard the thud of the metal box hit the floor. Jammed in by the bags now resting on my lap Blakey reached his long straggly arm under to recapture the item, only to find it covered in puke. Excuse the pun, but sick! As he also had it all over his hands he headed to the bathroom to wash whilst I found the disinfectant hand wash. Gross.
By the time we arrived in Puerto Montt that darling boy wasn´t feeling quite so darling. Never the less we hopped straight on to another Philip and crossed the water to reach the outlying island of Chiloe. This was another surreal experience in which a fully grown man with a face like Dot Cotton, dressed in a clown suit with lion face painting gave us an impromptu performance that inspired titters from our fellow passengers. We didn´t understand a bloody word, and with his voice I´m not convinced we would even if he was speaking our Queen´s own language. Still, his trip down the bus collecting change from all ended with a long, accusing stare at us, so we paid him for his performance whilst he made some joke about gringos.
However, upon arrival at the sleepy town of Ancud we were instantly greeted by a fairly intense but very friendly Chilean student who is working in the tourist information office for the summer. He was desperate to find us accommodation using his own mobile to check availability and walking with us to the place we would stay for the night.
The hospedaje was named ´Su Casa´, your house, and the door was instantly opened by an extremely maternal figure who greeted us with kisses and immediately helped us drop our heavy bags. Two large dining tables were laid and she offered us seats, but it had been a long day and we opted for a lie down. Once the huge dinner party had finished we asked for some hot water to add to our coffee when she laid us two places, filled our cups and placed many platters of homemade biscuits and cakes. Satisfied, we headed for an early night in our cosy bed piled with blankets and duvets.
Next morning we ventured down for breakfast and we were greeted with an entire table of goodies to choose from. There was almost too much, as it would have rude not to taste a little of each of the many treats she had made! After breakfast we shared our appreciation by doing the washing up. When we asked to join her for dinner in the evening she offered it free of charge in return for the help. As she didn´t speak a word of English and had rather a strange accent I used my muzzy head to answer her questions- I did not eat meat though Blakey did and she was happy to provide. Lovely.
We walked back to the tourist office to find the cheapest and easiest way to go and visit the nearby penguin colony. We were told where to catch a bus from and headed into town, though as the morning wore on we were growing more weary, not less. Since the puke incident neither of us have felt quite right and when we got to the town centre with no idea which bus to get on where we consoled ourselves with a cup of tea and decided to spend a few extra dollars on the easy and comfort of a tour.
We headed back down the now oh so familiar road and booked. The hour we needed to wait for our pick up was spent back at the hostel, desperately trying to keep our eyes open. A little later a cheerful man named Juan arrived with his taxi- it was just the two of us today.
He drove us out to the sea and 25 kilometres around the coast down unsealed bumpy roads, stopping at look out points for us to take pictures across the bay. The area had the rugged charm of Wales or Scotland- green fields and weather beaten tress all permanently diagonal from the strong offshore gusts. He drove us all the way down to the bay and then across the compacted grey sand to what looked like a small fishing community. We waited for our life jackets whilst seagulls frantically dived around a small area of water and the steely grey sky pressed down against the horizon.
Soon we were helped into a boat by three gruff looking sailors. Again it was just the two of us and the boat rocked as the undulating waves of the Pacific took it up and down. We headed out to the rocky outcrops and within minutes had spotten a couple of the comical creatures, waddling in their characteristic way across the rocks to belly flop into the sea. Small groups were interspersed all around, as well as Cormorants, grey geese and even a huge pelican. It was quite a treat seeing them though my hazy head was a little addled by the sailor trying to explain the wildlife in his thick accent- Spanish of course. I understood snippets about markings and behaviour, though admit to a great deal of smiling and nodding too.
The trip was most pleasant, though we have little to show for it. Usually our stories are backed up with pictures and video but my fantastic scenery capturing and close up, macro lensed camera has a pathetic zoom that led to pictures of rocks with a couple of white flecks, and the strength of the ocean has made watching Blakey´s video footage a little like a roller-coaster ride. You´ll have to believe us that we were really close and they were expectedly cute!
Although only late afternoon, we struggled to keep our eyes open on the taxi ride back. When we got through the door our plan to warm ourselves under the covers led to a two hour nap. We woke when called for dinner.
Many places set with an appetiser. Tuna fish. Crap! She asked if I eat meat and I said no- it seemed she knew to check with Westerners regarding vegetarianism. Not only that but this was the one and only food that I have known Blakey to be disgusted by. No chance of slipping stuff on to his plate. Apologising, I explained again that I was a vegetarian- to be greeted with Spanish "No meat, no fish. Sardines? What do you eat?!" Earlier I had said I did not like to eat much in the evenings and repeated this now, but she maintained a facial expression of utter confusion! Taking my plate she removed the fish- mostly- and gave me the salad to eat. I feel I was gallant in my attempt to coax it down my throat whilst Blakey had his fingers crossed I wouldn´t bring it all up across the table. Thankfully he had found he could cope with the taste when accompanied with bread and helped with the last little bit that I just couldn´t manage.
The rest of dinner was lovely, finished with deserts and coffee and the arrival of two chatty German girls that livened things up. Still, not that much as this fatigue was still plaguing us. We headed to bed early to ensure we were up in time for another fantastic breakfast!
The situation was then aggravated further. I was listening to Blakey´s ipod when the bus turned and it fell down the side of my chair. Trying to coax it in gently like a fish on a hook with my headphones my heart sank as I heard the thud of the metal box hit the floor. Jammed in by the bags now resting on my lap Blakey reached his long straggly arm under to recapture the item, only to find it covered in puke. Excuse the pun, but sick! As he also had it all over his hands he headed to the bathroom to wash whilst I found the disinfectant hand wash. Gross.
By the time we arrived in Puerto Montt that darling boy wasn´t feeling quite so darling. Never the less we hopped straight on to another Philip and crossed the water to reach the outlying island of Chiloe. This was another surreal experience in which a fully grown man with a face like Dot Cotton, dressed in a clown suit with lion face painting gave us an impromptu performance that inspired titters from our fellow passengers. We didn´t understand a bloody word, and with his voice I´m not convinced we would even if he was speaking our Queen´s own language. Still, his trip down the bus collecting change from all ended with a long, accusing stare at us, so we paid him for his performance whilst he made some joke about gringos.
However, upon arrival at the sleepy town of Ancud we were instantly greeted by a fairly intense but very friendly Chilean student who is working in the tourist information office for the summer. He was desperate to find us accommodation using his own mobile to check availability and walking with us to the place we would stay for the night.
The hospedaje was named ´Su Casa´, your house, and the door was instantly opened by an extremely maternal figure who greeted us with kisses and immediately helped us drop our heavy bags. Two large dining tables were laid and she offered us seats, but it had been a long day and we opted for a lie down. Once the huge dinner party had finished we asked for some hot water to add to our coffee when she laid us two places, filled our cups and placed many platters of homemade biscuits and cakes. Satisfied, we headed for an early night in our cosy bed piled with blankets and duvets.
Next morning we ventured down for breakfast and we were greeted with an entire table of goodies to choose from. There was almost too much, as it would have rude not to taste a little of each of the many treats she had made! After breakfast we shared our appreciation by doing the washing up. When we asked to join her for dinner in the evening she offered it free of charge in return for the help. As she didn´t speak a word of English and had rather a strange accent I used my muzzy head to answer her questions- I did not eat meat though Blakey did and she was happy to provide. Lovely.
We walked back to the tourist office to find the cheapest and easiest way to go and visit the nearby penguin colony. We were told where to catch a bus from and headed into town, though as the morning wore on we were growing more weary, not less. Since the puke incident neither of us have felt quite right and when we got to the town centre with no idea which bus to get on where we consoled ourselves with a cup of tea and decided to spend a few extra dollars on the easy and comfort of a tour.
We headed back down the now oh so familiar road and booked. The hour we needed to wait for our pick up was spent back at the hostel, desperately trying to keep our eyes open. A little later a cheerful man named Juan arrived with his taxi- it was just the two of us today.
He drove us out to the sea and 25 kilometres around the coast down unsealed bumpy roads, stopping at look out points for us to take pictures across the bay. The area had the rugged charm of Wales or Scotland- green fields and weather beaten tress all permanently diagonal from the strong offshore gusts. He drove us all the way down to the bay and then across the compacted grey sand to what looked like a small fishing community. We waited for our life jackets whilst seagulls frantically dived around a small area of water and the steely grey sky pressed down against the horizon.
Soon we were helped into a boat by three gruff looking sailors. Again it was just the two of us and the boat rocked as the undulating waves of the Pacific took it up and down. We headed out to the rocky outcrops and within minutes had spotten a couple of the comical creatures, waddling in their characteristic way across the rocks to belly flop into the sea. Small groups were interspersed all around, as well as Cormorants, grey geese and even a huge pelican. It was quite a treat seeing them though my hazy head was a little addled by the sailor trying to explain the wildlife in his thick accent- Spanish of course. I understood snippets about markings and behaviour, though admit to a great deal of smiling and nodding too.
The trip was most pleasant, though we have little to show for it. Usually our stories are backed up with pictures and video but my fantastic scenery capturing and close up, macro lensed camera has a pathetic zoom that led to pictures of rocks with a couple of white flecks, and the strength of the ocean has made watching Blakey´s video footage a little like a roller-coaster ride. You´ll have to believe us that we were really close and they were expectedly cute!
Although only late afternoon, we struggled to keep our eyes open on the taxi ride back. When we got through the door our plan to warm ourselves under the covers led to a two hour nap. We woke when called for dinner.
Many places set with an appetiser. Tuna fish. Crap! She asked if I eat meat and I said no- it seemed she knew to check with Westerners regarding vegetarianism. Not only that but this was the one and only food that I have known Blakey to be disgusted by. No chance of slipping stuff on to his plate. Apologising, I explained again that I was a vegetarian- to be greeted with Spanish "No meat, no fish. Sardines? What do you eat?!" Earlier I had said I did not like to eat much in the evenings and repeated this now, but she maintained a facial expression of utter confusion! Taking my plate she removed the fish- mostly- and gave me the salad to eat. I feel I was gallant in my attempt to coax it down my throat whilst Blakey had his fingers crossed I wouldn´t bring it all up across the table. Thankfully he had found he could cope with the taste when accompanied with bread and helped with the last little bit that I just couldn´t manage.
The rest of dinner was lovely, finished with deserts and coffee and the arrival of two chatty German girls that livened things up. Still, not that much as this fatigue was still plaguing us. We headed to bed early to ensure we were up in time for another fantastic breakfast!
Friday 8 January 2010
Pucon
My last few experiences on a night bus were so dreadful that the mere mention of getting on one again makes my rear end clench and legs twitch for fear of being squeezed into the vertical, metal matchbox of a bed. That was in Asia and now we were on the otherside of the world I was hoping that the Chileans might know something about comfort. All the actual beds on the bus had already been taken the previous day during the surge of thousands trying to get home after the New Years rampage so we were going to spend the night in a chair. When we got on board we were presented with a whole new breed of intelligence wit toilets as standard, seats taht you could actually sit in without sliding off and doing a back flip, fold down squishy lg rests and a clean blanket and pillow that wasn´t covered in someone else´s mouth dribble. Sleeping upright was still alaways going to be quite a challenge but we slept well and when the lights came on at 6.30am (where back in Asia it would signal that you should get off the bus immediately or risk someone else wonderig off with your pack) we were given breakfast of a tasty jam filled bicuit and a cartoon of juice named ´Sprim¨- how wonderous! We were then free to gently wake up ready for our 8am arrival.
When we reached Pucon it was like our bus driver had secretly taken us back to New Zealand. We were back in a landscape of mountains carpetted with snow overlooking large shimmering lakes and the weeather was just as cold and bleak. The plan was to camp in our tent but as we walked passed the cosy looking hostels we thought we´d just check the price of a room. Five minutes later we were huddled together all warm and snug on our bunk beds in a lovely family run home where everything was made from huge hunks of wood- it felt naughty splashing out the extra little bit of money but perfect for what we really wanted today. We even had an ensuite bathroom with a bath in it, although unless we were the size of a small dwarf we would only ever be able to sit upright with our knees around our ears in it.
We resisted sleep and walked out into the small town to see what we could get up to over the next couple of days. One of the main attractions here is Volcan Villarrica, a lava bubbling beast you can climb and look inside its fierce red belly. To join a tour was $70 each, a little steep for us but worth the splash for the experience. Fate had it way though, whilst there is a freakish amount of snow at home Chile is having a similar experience- it´s still snowing in the mountains ranges at the height of their summer season! As a result the bad weather had caused an avalanche the day before leading to a tour group needing rescuing and a trekker requiring an airlift out of the area. As a result the government had declared the whole mountain unsafe and shut it down, though with the thought of being buried alive we wre not too worried about giving it a miss.
We took a stroll down by the lake instead and as we stomped along the black gritty sand we were joined by four stray dogs who were determined to spend the afternoon with us. Infact taht whole beach was awash with them, all needing love and attention, which we really wanted to give to them if we could have given them a bth first. They all left us eventually bar one alsation who stayed with us for the duration of our walk, obediently trotting to heel. If we had the resources to rescue him he´d have been the next addition to the Blake clan.
The rest of the day was pleasant and easy going back at our cosy hostel, chatting with the family and sharing coffee with other travellers. We even manged to squeeze ourselves into the tub for nice hot baths andf slept well after such a nice wash in a clean bathroom.
At 7am the following morning our makeshift alarm, consisting of a pair of tinny headphones dangled above the bed pumping rock music as loud as possible from the iPod completely failed to even wake a single murmer from either of us. The plan had been to get up early so we could catch the 8.30am bus to the national park. When Laura checked the time it was 8.24am and raining heavily outside; we subsequently fell asleep, not to open our eyes until 10am. Our bodies were desperately trying to tell us something.
At 1pm we caught the next available bus to Huerquehue National Park to get some fresh air in our lungs. As the bus wound its way down the long country roads the rain eventually stopped- it seems fate was on our side again. Five minutes into our hike we could almost taste how clean the air was and like it was washing our alcohol stained insides new again. Over December we had trashed our bodies on several occassions and being out and about was just what we needed, although our lack of exercise was definatley showing aftre twenty minutes of steep climbing htrough the dense forests.
We hiked further up the side of a mountain passing trees so huge you could fit a house in the branches of each on, through mud so squidgy and deep we might get sucked in to another world. After three hours of ascent we started to glimpse the view across the valley below through breaks in the foliage, huge snowy mountains on the horizon and a strip of silver lake filling the valley floor below, whilst mists crept atmospherically out of the trees carpetting the slopes that framed the valley. We pushed a little further to Lago Chico, our halfway point nestled amongst the moss covered trees and reflecting the sky above in its mirror like surface, whilst it trickled out into a stream and poured far below at one end.
The return journey was a retrace of our footpath here, only this time with the added challenge of not mud-skiing all the way down, which we miraculously managed without a single fall on our bums! This time we took a small detour to a huge waterfall cascading metres down a rocky cliff before getting back with a few minutes to spare before catching the last bus of the day alongside a number of other muddy travellers.
It had been such a satisfying day and it didn´t take long before the comfort of our hostal and the warmth of our bunkbeds lulled us to sleep. Hopefully it would prepare us for the next full day of travel to Ancud.
When we reached Pucon it was like our bus driver had secretly taken us back to New Zealand. We were back in a landscape of mountains carpetted with snow overlooking large shimmering lakes and the weeather was just as cold and bleak. The plan was to camp in our tent but as we walked passed the cosy looking hostels we thought we´d just check the price of a room. Five minutes later we were huddled together all warm and snug on our bunk beds in a lovely family run home where everything was made from huge hunks of wood- it felt naughty splashing out the extra little bit of money but perfect for what we really wanted today. We even had an ensuite bathroom with a bath in it, although unless we were the size of a small dwarf we would only ever be able to sit upright with our knees around our ears in it.
We resisted sleep and walked out into the small town to see what we could get up to over the next couple of days. One of the main attractions here is Volcan Villarrica, a lava bubbling beast you can climb and look inside its fierce red belly. To join a tour was $70 each, a little steep for us but worth the splash for the experience. Fate had it way though, whilst there is a freakish amount of snow at home Chile is having a similar experience- it´s still snowing in the mountains ranges at the height of their summer season! As a result the bad weather had caused an avalanche the day before leading to a tour group needing rescuing and a trekker requiring an airlift out of the area. As a result the government had declared the whole mountain unsafe and shut it down, though with the thought of being buried alive we wre not too worried about giving it a miss.
We took a stroll down by the lake instead and as we stomped along the black gritty sand we were joined by four stray dogs who were determined to spend the afternoon with us. Infact taht whole beach was awash with them, all needing love and attention, which we really wanted to give to them if we could have given them a bth first. They all left us eventually bar one alsation who stayed with us for the duration of our walk, obediently trotting to heel. If we had the resources to rescue him he´d have been the next addition to the Blake clan.
The rest of the day was pleasant and easy going back at our cosy hostel, chatting with the family and sharing coffee with other travellers. We even manged to squeeze ourselves into the tub for nice hot baths andf slept well after such a nice wash in a clean bathroom.
At 7am the following morning our makeshift alarm, consisting of a pair of tinny headphones dangled above the bed pumping rock music as loud as possible from the iPod completely failed to even wake a single murmer from either of us. The plan had been to get up early so we could catch the 8.30am bus to the national park. When Laura checked the time it was 8.24am and raining heavily outside; we subsequently fell asleep, not to open our eyes until 10am. Our bodies were desperately trying to tell us something.
At 1pm we caught the next available bus to Huerquehue National Park to get some fresh air in our lungs. As the bus wound its way down the long country roads the rain eventually stopped- it seems fate was on our side again. Five minutes into our hike we could almost taste how clean the air was and like it was washing our alcohol stained insides new again. Over December we had trashed our bodies on several occassions and being out and about was just what we needed, although our lack of exercise was definatley showing aftre twenty minutes of steep climbing htrough the dense forests.
We hiked further up the side of a mountain passing trees so huge you could fit a house in the branches of each on, through mud so squidgy and deep we might get sucked in to another world. After three hours of ascent we started to glimpse the view across the valley below through breaks in the foliage, huge snowy mountains on the horizon and a strip of silver lake filling the valley floor below, whilst mists crept atmospherically out of the trees carpetting the slopes that framed the valley. We pushed a little further to Lago Chico, our halfway point nestled amongst the moss covered trees and reflecting the sky above in its mirror like surface, whilst it trickled out into a stream and poured far below at one end.
The return journey was a retrace of our footpath here, only this time with the added challenge of not mud-skiing all the way down, which we miraculously managed without a single fall on our bums! This time we took a small detour to a huge waterfall cascading metres down a rocky cliff before getting back with a few minutes to spare before catching the last bus of the day alongside a number of other muddy travellers.
It had been such a satisfying day and it didn´t take long before the comfort of our hostal and the warmth of our bunkbeds lulled us to sleep. Hopefully it would prepare us for the next full day of travel to Ancud.
Tuesday 5 January 2010
The Hangover
As unforgettable as New Years Eve was, I admit there was a few lapses in my memory on New Years Day. I shall never know what time I woke as even moving my eyes from one side of their sockets to the other triggered horrendous feelings like my braining was tripling in size against my skull and the pit of my stomach was turning upside down and inside out. Eventually I mustered a croak and Blakey whimpered a res ponce. He was feeling similar to me then.
The first day of a brand new year. The first day of the year we return home to everyone we miss so much, the year we get married, the year we start our lives together as the Blake's. For us, this day barely existed. It consisted of gradual shifts from one side of the pillow to another followed by slow steady intakes of air and then the kind of stillness that is usually only brought about by anaesthesia. When eventually my bladder could take no more and I was bravely manoeuvred to a vertical position it was late afternoon, and the horrific job of emptying the waste paper bin and remaining upright in the too-hot, too-cold, never just right shower happened in slow motion. By 8pm I was washed, dressed and starting to fell human again. I smugly left a still ailing Blake in bed as I crossed the road to check our emails.
Outside the party had not stopped. Chileans have got stamina! We had heard laughter, singing, clinking of bottles and general merriment all day and now there were groups of people on the street corners, silly string in their hair and confetti on their clothes. Absolutely mental! After checking the Internet it was clear many people back home were in a similar state, though I`m not sure if I can ever forgive Alex Tarling for her proclamation that she had endless tea and instant roast potatoes to see her through. To say I had a craving is an understatement in the extreme.
After sleeping for a whole day you`d think we couldn't sleep through the night, but somehow we managed it. 2nd January was the first day of 2010 for us- we awoke feeling utterly different. Now able to face the photos and video footage. I can`t wait to show you all how much fun it was, though only my friends will forgive the atrocity that is my rendition of Auld Lang Syne.
After waiting ages for the one shower and toilet that was servicing about twenty guests in the hostel we headed out into Valpo. It really is a beautiful city, though on this day filled with people weighed down with backpacks with a certain degree of foresight we decided to stay one night longer and book a bus ticket for the following morning. Just as well, the leisurely stroll to downtown bought us to a station full of people, rows of tired and stressed sales clerks and copious signs declaring the lack of tickets to various locations. When we got to the counter we booked a night bus to the town of Pucon. Suddenly we had all the following day to enjoy the cobbled hills too.
As we dawdled our way back we started to discuss our New Years Resolutions- a `to-do` list`we`d merrily written after a couple of wines a few nights before. The rest of the afternoon turned into plotting and planning our future again, laying out tasks that need doing when we get back and finding ways to find the time and money to get them done. I`m sure it sounds corny, but it`s a wonderful way to spend an engagement when we have so much time to discuss our ambitions.
So our last day in Valparaiso was more of the same- a long stroll around town to take in as much of the graffiti art as possible, a walk to the top of the hill for views across the whole harbour, chatting with the locals in a mix of broken Spanish, broken English and gestures. The so-far clear blue sky stated to gather a few clouds and the temperature dropped a few degrees so we took refuge in an Internet and telephone centre where we were excited to find that calls home would not bankrupt us out here. We wished our parents a Happy New Year and started to fill them in on our plans before catching a bus across town and embarking a swish coach for the ride out of here.
The first day of a brand new year. The first day of the year we return home to everyone we miss so much, the year we get married, the year we start our lives together as the Blake's. For us, this day barely existed. It consisted of gradual shifts from one side of the pillow to another followed by slow steady intakes of air and then the kind of stillness that is usually only brought about by anaesthesia. When eventually my bladder could take no more and I was bravely manoeuvred to a vertical position it was late afternoon, and the horrific job of emptying the waste paper bin and remaining upright in the too-hot, too-cold, never just right shower happened in slow motion. By 8pm I was washed, dressed and starting to fell human again. I smugly left a still ailing Blake in bed as I crossed the road to check our emails.
Outside the party had not stopped. Chileans have got stamina! We had heard laughter, singing, clinking of bottles and general merriment all day and now there were groups of people on the street corners, silly string in their hair and confetti on their clothes. Absolutely mental! After checking the Internet it was clear many people back home were in a similar state, though I`m not sure if I can ever forgive Alex Tarling for her proclamation that she had endless tea and instant roast potatoes to see her through. To say I had a craving is an understatement in the extreme.
After sleeping for a whole day you`d think we couldn't sleep through the night, but somehow we managed it. 2nd January was the first day of 2010 for us- we awoke feeling utterly different. Now able to face the photos and video footage. I can`t wait to show you all how much fun it was, though only my friends will forgive the atrocity that is my rendition of Auld Lang Syne.
After waiting ages for the one shower and toilet that was servicing about twenty guests in the hostel we headed out into Valpo. It really is a beautiful city, though on this day filled with people weighed down with backpacks with a certain degree of foresight we decided to stay one night longer and book a bus ticket for the following morning. Just as well, the leisurely stroll to downtown bought us to a station full of people, rows of tired and stressed sales clerks and copious signs declaring the lack of tickets to various locations. When we got to the counter we booked a night bus to the town of Pucon. Suddenly we had all the following day to enjoy the cobbled hills too.
As we dawdled our way back we started to discuss our New Years Resolutions- a `to-do` list`we`d merrily written after a couple of wines a few nights before. The rest of the afternoon turned into plotting and planning our future again, laying out tasks that need doing when we get back and finding ways to find the time and money to get them done. I`m sure it sounds corny, but it`s a wonderful way to spend an engagement when we have so much time to discuss our ambitions.
So our last day in Valparaiso was more of the same- a long stroll around town to take in as much of the graffiti art as possible, a walk to the top of the hill for views across the whole harbour, chatting with the locals in a mix of broken Spanish, broken English and gestures. The so-far clear blue sky stated to gather a few clouds and the temperature dropped a few degrees so we took refuge in an Internet and telephone centre where we were excited to find that calls home would not bankrupt us out here. We wished our parents a Happy New Year and started to fill them in on our plans before catching a bus across town and embarking a swish coach for the ride out of here.
Saturday 2 January 2010
Feliz Año Nuevo!
There had been such a build up to Decemmber, what with my 30th birthday and Christmas away from family and friends, and now it was over along with us finishing our time in New Zealand we were full of different emotions. I almost felt like we had come to the end of our travels and we were about to catch a flight home, but in reality we were catching a flight to the half way mark. With South America being our last continent to conquer it feels only days away that we´ll be sat ion the sofa infront of the TV in England, slurping on some tea. At the same time though, with all these big events out of the way it could make things much easier out here, not feeling like we´re missing out on things at home anymore.
Anyway, we left our festive flat nice and early to make the journey back to Auckalnd and catch our flight to Chile. After three hours drive, the last thirty minutes that saw us trying to use the printed directions which made no match to the road names was an absolute brain ache. With Laura and I both feeeling a bit on edge and nervous about the country ahead we certainly lost our cool several times.
Somehow we did it all and had hours to spare before we could even check in for our flight. After exhausting many ways to kill time we finally boarded the plane for the captain to announce that due to a technical fault we would have to wait about forty minutes until take off. This turned into two hours of us being sat in some quite squished and uncomfortable seats listening to one piece of music on loop over and over again whilst the air stewards were trying their best to keep spirits high with free cookies and cups of coke. It wouldn´t have been too bad if it wasn´t for the fact this was an eleven hour flight. When we eventually took off another far greater niggle presente itself- the two Aussie girls sat behind us who were talking so loud that people in the cockpit must have heard their utterly ridiculous childlike conversations! If I heard one of them say "ooohhhhh mmmyyyy gaaaad" one more time she may have experienced a skydive without the parachute. Laura was having even greater issues with them and had her earplugs crammed in so far I was worried she may need them surgically removed due to one of the girl sniffing every 5 seconds for an entire 11 hours. Someone needed to introduce her to the wonders of tissue paper.
We came to land and got off the plane with Laura still clenching her teeth and fists when we found the transfer bus to take us to our hostal in Santiago. We had booked this place on the internet months and months ago and had the address that the internet site had given us written down. Unfortunately they had missed a number off, so rather than 257 we went round and round in circles looking for a hostal based at number 57. It had been a seriously epic journey getting from our Christmas flat to Santiago, but we were here now and damned well going to enjoy it, well, after a good night´s sleep anyway!
The next morning we were still pretty hazy but set out into the bright golden sunlight that was shining over Santiago for our first taste of South America. I had heard so many negative reports from other people (most of whom hadn´t been here to be fair) and wasn´t expecting much other than a grey city filled with non-stop chaos and crime. I couldn´t have been more wrong and after a few minutes of walking around we were both greeted by a vibrant, beautiful and welcoming city surrounded by ginormous mountains and beautiful colonial architecture. Not only that- the smells here were sweet and pleasant and the weather perfect- not a sinlge cloud and the kind of warmth that keeps everything just right without any kind of a sweat.
We headed to the nearby Cerro Santa Lucia, a hill bedecked with magnificant stone staircases that we climbed for views across the city. As we walked around passed decorative archways, huge chunks of rock and lush fountains we noticed the massive amount of love and romance in the air. Couples of all ages were snogging passionately like there was no tomorrow- this could be the new Paris! Looking around the European undercurrents were obvious everywhere though interspersed with touches that put us in mind of Asia- stray dogs, street vendors and another delicate sewer system leading to interesting toilet arrangements! Eitherways, we were both getting our buzz back being in such an interesting place and spent a good few hours getting to know it.
Santiago had been a brief but pleasant stop but it was time to move on to Valparaiso to get in the mood for New Year´s Eve! After catching two buses and slogging our bags up some seriously steep cobbled streets we made it to our hostal that we had booked for the next three nights. As the owner opened the door to see our sweaty, tired faces she looked confused as to what we were doing there. We nervously followed her in as there was a sign on the door claiming no vacancies and she said she had no bookings under Whiting or Blake. Of course she was wrong as we had received the confirmation email form Hostal World for the accommodation back in June. Suddenly the lady remebered the enquiry and explained that she had responded to Hostal World that she did not accept bookings in that manner at this time of year and prices were generally triple the usual. She showed us the email she had sent and it was clear it was not her fault and there was no use arguing as there was nothing that either of us could do, though that didn´t stop Laura from wanting to burst into tears and us having to find an alternative at a price we hadn´t budgeted for, if there was a room left at all. Helpfully the owner phoned an alternative hostal on our behalf and reserved a room for us but this was really going to cost. We started to walk up the road and hoped for the best.
On our way up there we bumped into a lively Aussie woman calle Angela who thought we were in need of a helping hand. She had also had trouble finding somewhere but had found a reasonably priced hostal just around the corner. After we explained our disaster she mentioned a host of other people who had been similarly let down by Hostal World today and were furious- our only concilation at present is that this will be posted on the internet for all to see! We decided to check out her recommendation and after a friendly welcome by the owner who gave us a good offer on a rather sizeable turn of the century room with sweeping high ceilings and period detail we agreed to stay there instead.
Again we were feeling out of it but the streets outside were so bursting full of colour and energy that we headed straight out to soak it up. After getting a terrific lunch from the cafe directly underneath our room we explored the town and had a look at the three different vantage points from where we could watch tomorrow evenings extreme firework display. As we walked passed the muliticoloured painted houses and down alleyways of fantastically graffitied walls it was hard to imagine the hundreds of thousands that would cram every cobblestone here tomorrow but it was certainly getting us in the mood. We found a local shop and bought some wine and champagne before it all got snapped up and went to bed with excitement in our bellies.
The following day was all about the evening and it was hard to think about anything else. We had ourselves a lovely lay in and got brunch at a restaurant down the road. I haven´t told you yet that since arriving in Chile we have been speaking to the locals in Spanish. Hardly anyone knows English bar a few words so we are really trying to remember what we learned at school and I must say we are doing pretty great, especially Laura, but then she never forgets anything with her elephant machine like brain.
Evening came fast and as I got the wine out of the fridge ready to kick start things I bumped into Angela again who was hosting a small dinner party in her room with two others before hitting the streets. She invited us to join in and within minutes the wine was flowing fast and getting to our heads even faster. The other two guests were a friendly German named Kay (pronounced Kai) and a slightly mysterious girl called Jessica from the Netherlands. After exchanging the usual traveller stories and eating some good grub we cracked open the champers and headed down the road to where the real party was at, after toasting the policeman stationed outside our hostal of course.
The streets were now fizzing with life and hordes of people were chanting, singing out loud and wishing one another a "Feliz Año Nuevo". We squeezed into a spot with a view across the entire harbour where the fireworks would kick off later whilst the intensity grew and grew. It wasn´t long before we had made friends with the Chilean people around us and we were topping up their glasses as much as they were topping up ours. By this time everyone was friends with everyone and no cup ever had the chance to go empty. We were very quickly losing count of how much we had to drink and were all getting louder by the glass. An hour after getting there it was impossible to leave the space we had found as the crowds had tripled in size and it seemed like the whole of Chile had come to Valparaiso to party. Midnight hit and the sky was blown to pieces with thousands upon thousands of colours illuminating the harbour and the grinningly happy faces below. I´d never seen anything like it before and the trails of exploded fireworks turned into fairy dust which gave the impression of stars falling from the sky down towards us. Laura broke out into "Auld Lang Syne" though I could barely hear her over the deafening cries of "Viva Chile!" coming from the rest of the crowd. Champagne was literally flying through the air along with silly string and confetti. We all turned to anyone and everyone to greet the New Year and kisses were being exchanged as though we were all the closest of friends. Admittedly my eye for the señoritas was working double time at this opportune moment!
Continuing our quest to kiss everyone in Valpo, Laura and I started to stumble through the crowds and very slowly make our way back towards our hostal. Laura led the way most wonderfully through the chaotic streets and would have earned top points if it were not for the very end of our journey were she tried repeatedly to open the door of the hotel next door with our key. Eventually realising her mistake, as well as the worse for wear state of her, I put her arm around me and shuffled the ten steps down the road to the correct door. Now it was my turn to reveal my drunkness as I searched for what seemed like ten whole minutes for the key before remembering that Laura had just been trying to use it and it was still in her hand! We were both complete states, I have never seen Laura so brilliant drunken!
We were so close to bed, but not quite close enough. On the way down the corridor Laura ducked into the bathroom and sat on the toilet with her head between her legs for a full 20 minutes or so before standing up and somehow managing to fall into the bath. It was at this point I realised that we had been doing everything in pitch black- the celebrations had caused the electricity in the city to go out. Using the tiny torch on my camcorder I led the way back to the room and lovingly placed my future wife into bed. I then placed the waste paper bin right next to the bed, rather convinced it would be of use throughout the night. Ooh my what a night, I´ll never forget this New Years Eve ever!
Anyway, we left our festive flat nice and early to make the journey back to Auckalnd and catch our flight to Chile. After three hours drive, the last thirty minutes that saw us trying to use the printed directions which made no match to the road names was an absolute brain ache. With Laura and I both feeeling a bit on edge and nervous about the country ahead we certainly lost our cool several times.
Somehow we did it all and had hours to spare before we could even check in for our flight. After exhausting many ways to kill time we finally boarded the plane for the captain to announce that due to a technical fault we would have to wait about forty minutes until take off. This turned into two hours of us being sat in some quite squished and uncomfortable seats listening to one piece of music on loop over and over again whilst the air stewards were trying their best to keep spirits high with free cookies and cups of coke. It wouldn´t have been too bad if it wasn´t for the fact this was an eleven hour flight. When we eventually took off another far greater niggle presente itself- the two Aussie girls sat behind us who were talking so loud that people in the cockpit must have heard their utterly ridiculous childlike conversations! If I heard one of them say "ooohhhhh mmmyyyy gaaaad" one more time she may have experienced a skydive without the parachute. Laura was having even greater issues with them and had her earplugs crammed in so far I was worried she may need them surgically removed due to one of the girl sniffing every 5 seconds for an entire 11 hours. Someone needed to introduce her to the wonders of tissue paper.
We came to land and got off the plane with Laura still clenching her teeth and fists when we found the transfer bus to take us to our hostal in Santiago. We had booked this place on the internet months and months ago and had the address that the internet site had given us written down. Unfortunately they had missed a number off, so rather than 257 we went round and round in circles looking for a hostal based at number 57. It had been a seriously epic journey getting from our Christmas flat to Santiago, but we were here now and damned well going to enjoy it, well, after a good night´s sleep anyway!
The next morning we were still pretty hazy but set out into the bright golden sunlight that was shining over Santiago for our first taste of South America. I had heard so many negative reports from other people (most of whom hadn´t been here to be fair) and wasn´t expecting much other than a grey city filled with non-stop chaos and crime. I couldn´t have been more wrong and after a few minutes of walking around we were both greeted by a vibrant, beautiful and welcoming city surrounded by ginormous mountains and beautiful colonial architecture. Not only that- the smells here were sweet and pleasant and the weather perfect- not a sinlge cloud and the kind of warmth that keeps everything just right without any kind of a sweat.
We headed to the nearby Cerro Santa Lucia, a hill bedecked with magnificant stone staircases that we climbed for views across the city. As we walked around passed decorative archways, huge chunks of rock and lush fountains we noticed the massive amount of love and romance in the air. Couples of all ages were snogging passionately like there was no tomorrow- this could be the new Paris! Looking around the European undercurrents were obvious everywhere though interspersed with touches that put us in mind of Asia- stray dogs, street vendors and another delicate sewer system leading to interesting toilet arrangements! Eitherways, we were both getting our buzz back being in such an interesting place and spent a good few hours getting to know it.
Santiago had been a brief but pleasant stop but it was time to move on to Valparaiso to get in the mood for New Year´s Eve! After catching two buses and slogging our bags up some seriously steep cobbled streets we made it to our hostal that we had booked for the next three nights. As the owner opened the door to see our sweaty, tired faces she looked confused as to what we were doing there. We nervously followed her in as there was a sign on the door claiming no vacancies and she said she had no bookings under Whiting or Blake. Of course she was wrong as we had received the confirmation email form Hostal World for the accommodation back in June. Suddenly the lady remebered the enquiry and explained that she had responded to Hostal World that she did not accept bookings in that manner at this time of year and prices were generally triple the usual. She showed us the email she had sent and it was clear it was not her fault and there was no use arguing as there was nothing that either of us could do, though that didn´t stop Laura from wanting to burst into tears and us having to find an alternative at a price we hadn´t budgeted for, if there was a room left at all. Helpfully the owner phoned an alternative hostal on our behalf and reserved a room for us but this was really going to cost. We started to walk up the road and hoped for the best.
On our way up there we bumped into a lively Aussie woman calle Angela who thought we were in need of a helping hand. She had also had trouble finding somewhere but had found a reasonably priced hostal just around the corner. After we explained our disaster she mentioned a host of other people who had been similarly let down by Hostal World today and were furious- our only concilation at present is that this will be posted on the internet for all to see! We decided to check out her recommendation and after a friendly welcome by the owner who gave us a good offer on a rather sizeable turn of the century room with sweeping high ceilings and period detail we agreed to stay there instead.
Again we were feeling out of it but the streets outside were so bursting full of colour and energy that we headed straight out to soak it up. After getting a terrific lunch from the cafe directly underneath our room we explored the town and had a look at the three different vantage points from where we could watch tomorrow evenings extreme firework display. As we walked passed the muliticoloured painted houses and down alleyways of fantastically graffitied walls it was hard to imagine the hundreds of thousands that would cram every cobblestone here tomorrow but it was certainly getting us in the mood. We found a local shop and bought some wine and champagne before it all got snapped up and went to bed with excitement in our bellies.
The following day was all about the evening and it was hard to think about anything else. We had ourselves a lovely lay in and got brunch at a restaurant down the road. I haven´t told you yet that since arriving in Chile we have been speaking to the locals in Spanish. Hardly anyone knows English bar a few words so we are really trying to remember what we learned at school and I must say we are doing pretty great, especially Laura, but then she never forgets anything with her elephant machine like brain.
Evening came fast and as I got the wine out of the fridge ready to kick start things I bumped into Angela again who was hosting a small dinner party in her room with two others before hitting the streets. She invited us to join in and within minutes the wine was flowing fast and getting to our heads even faster. The other two guests were a friendly German named Kay (pronounced Kai) and a slightly mysterious girl called Jessica from the Netherlands. After exchanging the usual traveller stories and eating some good grub we cracked open the champers and headed down the road to where the real party was at, after toasting the policeman stationed outside our hostal of course.
The streets were now fizzing with life and hordes of people were chanting, singing out loud and wishing one another a "Feliz Año Nuevo". We squeezed into a spot with a view across the entire harbour where the fireworks would kick off later whilst the intensity grew and grew. It wasn´t long before we had made friends with the Chilean people around us and we were topping up their glasses as much as they were topping up ours. By this time everyone was friends with everyone and no cup ever had the chance to go empty. We were very quickly losing count of how much we had to drink and were all getting louder by the glass. An hour after getting there it was impossible to leave the space we had found as the crowds had tripled in size and it seemed like the whole of Chile had come to Valparaiso to party. Midnight hit and the sky was blown to pieces with thousands upon thousands of colours illuminating the harbour and the grinningly happy faces below. I´d never seen anything like it before and the trails of exploded fireworks turned into fairy dust which gave the impression of stars falling from the sky down towards us. Laura broke out into "Auld Lang Syne" though I could barely hear her over the deafening cries of "Viva Chile!" coming from the rest of the crowd. Champagne was literally flying through the air along with silly string and confetti. We all turned to anyone and everyone to greet the New Year and kisses were being exchanged as though we were all the closest of friends. Admittedly my eye for the señoritas was working double time at this opportune moment!
Continuing our quest to kiss everyone in Valpo, Laura and I started to stumble through the crowds and very slowly make our way back towards our hostal. Laura led the way most wonderfully through the chaotic streets and would have earned top points if it were not for the very end of our journey were she tried repeatedly to open the door of the hotel next door with our key. Eventually realising her mistake, as well as the worse for wear state of her, I put her arm around me and shuffled the ten steps down the road to the correct door. Now it was my turn to reveal my drunkness as I searched for what seemed like ten whole minutes for the key before remembering that Laura had just been trying to use it and it was still in her hand! We were both complete states, I have never seen Laura so brilliant drunken!
We were so close to bed, but not quite close enough. On the way down the corridor Laura ducked into the bathroom and sat on the toilet with her head between her legs for a full 20 minutes or so before standing up and somehow managing to fall into the bath. It was at this point I realised that we had been doing everything in pitch black- the celebrations had caused the electricity in the city to go out. Using the tiny torch on my camcorder I led the way back to the room and lovingly placed my future wife into bed. I then placed the waste paper bin right next to the bed, rather convinced it would be of use throughout the night. Ooh my what a night, I´ll never forget this New Years Eve ever!
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