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!