No volcanoes please, we're British or 'How are you coping without teabags?
A bloke Marv met rafting actually asked him the above question. Kind of a strange one for a couple of reasons. First, tea is popular in Chile, taken traditionally in the afternoon. It's called onces, literally elevenes. So what he must have been asking was 'how are you coping without Tetleys?' But, really, given a choice between a teabag and a trip to Chile, the choice is a pretty easy one.
We continue to have a fantastic time but the weather is such that seeing a volcano ain't going to happen until we get to New Zealand I think. We tried to walk up one a couple of days ago but it was too cloudy. So we went off by ourselves and had a great day instead. We went for a fantastically muddy stomp through a forest, then went to a thermal spa in the middle of aforementioned forest. There was no view but the forest was brilliantly spooky, with mist rising above the trees, and swimming in the thermally warmed waters afterwards was just perfect - with views over the forest, and not another soul in the place apart from me and Marv.
Then we drove to the island of Chiloè, a half hour ferry ride from the mainland. It's a pretty desolate place but very, very beautiful. It's 112 miles along and between 19 and 43 miles wide, and actually part of an archipelago. It sort of marks the end of the Lake District and the start of the really watery bit of the country down to the major mountain area - Torres del Paine etc. One of the notable points about Chiloe are these wooden churches all over the island in the most out-of-the-way places. They´re very simple and rather stunning in an austere sort of a way. There's one tarmac road which runs through the island - the continuation of the PanAmericana which we've been driving on for the last few days - but that is about it. The island reminds me of that tv programme from years ago, 'Northern Exposure', where the unexpected could, and would happen and there was a slight air of eccentricity about it all. We saw loads of empty wooden buildings for sale and day dreamed about giving it all up and opening a hostel on the island. Ahem.
We stayed in the most brilliant wooden hotel on the water. (I think nearly all the buildings on Chiloe - including the churches - are wooden. The weather is quite damp most of the time which must present some hellish repair work at frequent intervals.) The hotel itself clambered up the hillside and our room, right at the top, felt like being in a boat. Our view was right over the fjord. Very magical. The seagulls were a bit annoying, but it was great to see the sea after all the inland mountainy stuff. And we had the most brilliant meal at a restaurant called Anos de Luz. Ceviched mussels in an onion and corriander salsa (so, cold) - thai fish soup (very hot - both spicy and temperature-wise) - locally caught fish brochettes - all served in separate bowls but presented on the same plate for two to share. The contrast between the mussels, the soup and the mild fish was excellent. Concept food Chilote style! After all the steak, you may have noticed that I'm really enjoying the fish. Also, fish seems to lend itself more to the addition of salsas and stronger flavoured accompaniements. With steak, I'm of the 'keep it simple' school and don't really go for rich sauces, as the meat itself is so fantastic. But the treatment of fish here is really imaginative. Oh, and we shared a FINE bottle of Chilean red, and an apple tarte tatin which was served, bizarrely, tho' quite nicely, with raspberry ripple ice cream.
Today we did a big stomp along the Pacific coast - the west coast of the island. Weather in extremis. On the way there we did good deeds and drove a few islanders to the shops and back which was entertaining. Then we drove to Puerto Montt - back across the water spotting seals on the way - where we are getting a ferry from tomorrow night to the south. Had we arrived a month later I think we would have tried to drive the Southern Highway as far down as possible, but the roads have started to get funkier and boat is the easiest option. From now southwards the roads start to disappear, and the country breaks up into islands.
Puerto Montt is not the nicest place in the world, but the food is supposed to be good so I'm happy. The local speciality is called curanto and is a fish and sausage soup. We're staying in possibly the dodgiest hostel of the trip so far but it's no big deal as we leave tomorrow. We are right by the ferry terminal, the fish market and the goods market. I am planning to buy lots of woollen stuff for small children I know which I'm sure they'll be delighted with. (Sorry, but the ponchos are very sweet).
And now I'm just rambling so adios.
xx
A bloke Marv met rafting actually asked him the above question. Kind of a strange one for a couple of reasons. First, tea is popular in Chile, taken traditionally in the afternoon. It's called onces, literally elevenes. So what he must have been asking was 'how are you coping without Tetleys?' But, really, given a choice between a teabag and a trip to Chile, the choice is a pretty easy one.
We continue to have a fantastic time but the weather is such that seeing a volcano ain't going to happen until we get to New Zealand I think. We tried to walk up one a couple of days ago but it was too cloudy. So we went off by ourselves and had a great day instead. We went for a fantastically muddy stomp through a forest, then went to a thermal spa in the middle of aforementioned forest. There was no view but the forest was brilliantly spooky, with mist rising above the trees, and swimming in the thermally warmed waters afterwards was just perfect - with views over the forest, and not another soul in the place apart from me and Marv.
Then we drove to the island of Chiloè, a half hour ferry ride from the mainland. It's a pretty desolate place but very, very beautiful. It's 112 miles along and between 19 and 43 miles wide, and actually part of an archipelago. It sort of marks the end of the Lake District and the start of the really watery bit of the country down to the major mountain area - Torres del Paine etc. One of the notable points about Chiloe are these wooden churches all over the island in the most out-of-the-way places. They´re very simple and rather stunning in an austere sort of a way. There's one tarmac road which runs through the island - the continuation of the PanAmericana which we've been driving on for the last few days - but that is about it. The island reminds me of that tv programme from years ago, 'Northern Exposure', where the unexpected could, and would happen and there was a slight air of eccentricity about it all. We saw loads of empty wooden buildings for sale and day dreamed about giving it all up and opening a hostel on the island. Ahem.
We stayed in the most brilliant wooden hotel on the water. (I think nearly all the buildings on Chiloe - including the churches - are wooden. The weather is quite damp most of the time which must present some hellish repair work at frequent intervals.) The hotel itself clambered up the hillside and our room, right at the top, felt like being in a boat. Our view was right over the fjord. Very magical. The seagulls were a bit annoying, but it was great to see the sea after all the inland mountainy stuff. And we had the most brilliant meal at a restaurant called Anos de Luz. Ceviched mussels in an onion and corriander salsa (so, cold) - thai fish soup (very hot - both spicy and temperature-wise) - locally caught fish brochettes - all served in separate bowls but presented on the same plate for two to share. The contrast between the mussels, the soup and the mild fish was excellent. Concept food Chilote style! After all the steak, you may have noticed that I'm really enjoying the fish. Also, fish seems to lend itself more to the addition of salsas and stronger flavoured accompaniements. With steak, I'm of the 'keep it simple' school and don't really go for rich sauces, as the meat itself is so fantastic. But the treatment of fish here is really imaginative. Oh, and we shared a FINE bottle of Chilean red, and an apple tarte tatin which was served, bizarrely, tho' quite nicely, with raspberry ripple ice cream.
Today we did a big stomp along the Pacific coast - the west coast of the island. Weather in extremis. On the way there we did good deeds and drove a few islanders to the shops and back which was entertaining. Then we drove to Puerto Montt - back across the water spotting seals on the way - where we are getting a ferry from tomorrow night to the south. Had we arrived a month later I think we would have tried to drive the Southern Highway as far down as possible, but the roads have started to get funkier and boat is the easiest option. From now southwards the roads start to disappear, and the country breaks up into islands.
Puerto Montt is not the nicest place in the world, but the food is supposed to be good so I'm happy. The local speciality is called curanto and is a fish and sausage soup. We're staying in possibly the dodgiest hostel of the trip so far but it's no big deal as we leave tomorrow. We are right by the ferry terminal, the fish market and the goods market. I am planning to buy lots of woollen stuff for small children I know which I'm sure they'll be delighted with. (Sorry, but the ponchos are very sweet).
And now I'm just rambling so adios.
xx
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