Puerto Varas

Our door on our bed in The Guest House.

The history of the Guest House.

The Guest House on the very short O'Higgen's street.

The kitchen staff.
the Americans in the dining area.

The stove for making bread in the kitchen.

Peter waiting for the train in the station which is no longer used.

the old water towers.

Okay, so Peter "same photo" again.

A Historic building in Pueto Varas.

Lago Llanquihuer.

Historic church.

The local noisy bird.

Thursday, Nov. 18
With our egg and mayo sandwiches packed, along with crackers, fruit and yogurt, we are ready for our six-hour bus trip to Puerto Varas. We have good seats upstairs, right behind the steps going up, so I have a high rest for my feet. The scenery is lush countryside, lots of cows and sheep, and vegetables growing. Unfortunately, it is overcast. We stop at each decent-sized city along the way. Once we reach Puerto Varas, just a few minutes north of the big city of Puerto Montt, Peter quickly gets the tickets for the return trip to Temuco, we get the only taxi waiting, and the driver does not know where the street is that we are staying on. With a tiny city like this, it is amazing. Anyway, he takes us to the wrong place, then stops twice to ask people about our street. With only a few houses on the one-block street, I guess it is easy not to know.
We explore the bitty downtown. It does have a lovely walkway along the shore of Lake Llanquihuer and lots of new or refurbished high-rise hotels facing the water. The highlight - for Ruth anyway - is the glistening casino. It really is impressive with separate casinos for the smokers and the non-smokers. As so many people smoke in S.A., they would make no money if they were forced to have only non-smoking!
Back at the guest house we meet Jerry - a semi-retired computer designer of children’s games. He is a cross between John Walton and Woody Allen & Peter Sellers. Need I say more! He takes pictures of the hat I am embroidering with the names of all the cities we visit and he makes notes of the expressions that we use which are new to him. Anyway, of the group he is traveling with from California, including his wife, he is the only one who is friendly.
We head downtown, literally, to a pizza restaurant that is recommended. I have a great four-cheese, very thin crust, delicious pizza. Peter wants a ham & pepperoni and gets only ham. Whatever. The walk uphill helps the digestion of the food.
The bed is nice and cozy and there is no television here to distract me.

Friday, Nov. 19.
The breakfast is delicious with lots to choose from - sweet French toast, granola, yogurt, rich brown bread, cheese and cold cuts, fresh-squeezed orange juice, and lots of proper coffee (not instant) - eaten at a group table. While others were eating, we overhear a couple from Holland who have been to Vietnam and China and talking about how they had the trip organized by a tour company in Holland. After breakfast, Peter approaches Bart and Liesbeth and we not only get the low-down on China, they suggest our trip to Australia as well. Lots of very good information that we are truly thankful to have. They travel like us, mostly on the cheap for food and lodging, but spend the money on the things they really want to see. I hope some day they will venture to Canada and we can have the pleasure of showing them around the Kootenays.
Because it began as a rainy day with only an early afternoon of non-precipitation, we just did the walking tour of the city. The old railway station area is the most interesting for me. I could imagine the German immigrants in the twenties and thirties getting off the train, staying in the hotel across the street, and starting a new life in this - to them - strange land.
We haven’t decided what to do for dinner - maybe just finish the new - expensive $5.00 - bottle of wine and go to bed. Whatever. Tomorrow, we start north again. To warmer weather, I hope. Today when we went walking, I had my pyjama bottoms on under my woolish-pants I bought in Buenos Aires and my cheap warm sweater I bought in Lima over my golf shirt under by rain jacket and on my feet I had on Cathy‘s warm socks and my walking shoes. Unfortunately, I sent home my New Zealand sweater from Puerto Iguazu, thinking that that warm weather would continue. Silly me.
We should have some down time in Arica, so I’ll try to post next from there.

Pucon

Where we didn't stay.
Peter byt the lake.
Also, where we didn't stay.

Where we did stay.

Some nice flowering trees.

Tuesday, Nov. 16.
As usual, we are early for the bus and almost take the one before ours - although it would not have made a difference, but someone was in “our” seats. We discover, that if you look in the bottom left-hand corner of the front window of the bus, the departure time is noted by a clock-sign set for the time. Everyone is jolly as the exocentric foreigners retrieve their suitcase (we are sharing one from Santiago), and return to the bench to await the correct bus. Ours arrives about 10 minutes later, leaves a few minutes late, and we are off for our two-hour milk run.
The scenery is much like Eastern Canada, until we begin to see some snow-capped mountains to the east. Then, as we approach the town of Villarrica, we see Volcan Villarrica and see the steam rising from the crater. It is a clear blue day and it is most impressive. We go closer and closer as we follow the shore around the lake. If we were forty years younger, we would do the climb to the crater, but, at almost seventy, it does not seem wise. Word is that the descent is more dangerous than the climb as people choose to slide down on their bottoms and can reach dangerous speeds. Sounds like fun!
The hostel we have booked is like a ski chalet in the middle of town. Luckily, we are the only occupants at the time, so the 10 plus beds upstairs are empty. We have a double bed and private bath, but we also have the large living-dining room and kitchen to ourselves. Works for me!
We find the lavaderia (to get our now bulging dirty-laundry bag emptied). It is a little expensive, but will be done today. As it turns out, everything is extremely clean and neatly folded so there is no need for ironing.
We have two days in Pucon, but, other than viewing the volcano and wandering the streets, we are not sure how we will fill two days. I guess we will call it down-time.
The hostel owner has recommended two restaurants which he feels will give us value for money. (This is definitely a tourist town and there are almost as many restaurants as there are residents! - A slight exaggeration.)
We take his advise and have a very nice dinner. We have decided to take some time tomorrow to begin planning our trip to New Zealand. Hopefully, sitting on the black sand beach, eating cheese and crackers, and sharing a bottle of wine. Hasta pronto.

Wednesday, November 17.
Two more weeks. There seems quite a bit more to do, but I think we will pack it all in. The Nasca area is the one we can’t get a lot of information about. I have saved some of my “government” money and have my “seasick” pills from New Zealand, both of which I believe will be needed if we are to take a small-plane ride to view the lines. Like Machu Picchu, these are very unique to South America. Hopefully, we will find some information when we reach Arica, the most northern city we will visit in Chile.
Peter had a restless night and I didn’t turn the TV off until midnight - I found a station with “Law & Order” in English - so we do not awaken until 9 a.m.. What a treat! As there is not a whole lot to do, I boil eggs for tomorrow, make tuna sandwiches for today, and cook eggs with a slice of cheese topping for breakfast. We have enough coffee we took from the Holiday Inn to have a mug each. Sometimes it is the little things that count.
It is an overcast day and quite cool. I feel sorry for anyone who climbs the volcano today or has this as their only day in town. By the end of the day, at least, the volcano is visible.
When we pass the City Hall, we notice there is a warning signal for the eventuality of the volcano erupting. Unfortunately, it doesn’t tell you what to do. We have to assume the volcano is monitored, as was the one on White Island in New Zealand, and the authorities would evacuate us if there is any danger. Who knows? We travel inland from the city of Concepcion which was the epi-centre of a strong earthquake earlier this year.
We are on the move again tomorrow. We need to be up early and walk, dragging our Eagle Creek suitcase and wearing our backpacks, the 15 minutes to the bus depot. Nobody would guess our age!

Temuco

A downtown shopping mall like the Guggenheim museum.

A statue of a Mapuche Indian istead of a Spanish general!

Sorry, no picture of the wonderful hotel!

Sunday, Nov. 14

We leave Santiago for the southern city of Temuco. We are on the lower level of the bus so we can have the semi-cama seats, which have a rest for your legs. What we do not realize is that we do not get fed on this bus. It takes six hours, from 10 a.m. until 4 pm. Luckily, as usual, I have my brightly coloured Peruvian bag with water and food within. We manage on crackers and fruit. We are sometimes on a prisoner’s diet.
The Andes are to our east and we see snow-capped mountains that all look like volcanoes. We travel through wine country. I knit - I’m working on my socks so I can leave Cathy’s in Canada when we go “down-under” again. I watch some movies which have both Spanish sub-titles and Spanish voice dubbing. They don’t always use the same words! Peter mostly reads his Kindle. I think we both snooze a little as we were up quite early.
The bus depot in Temuco turns out to be only a couple of blocks from the Holiday Inn Express. We are not downtown, but we are in luxurious digs. I could get used to this even if the bank account couldn’t.
There is no restaurant in the hotel, but they have a small tienda where they have pre-cooked meals, on real plates, that they will microwave for you. Once we are settled, we go down and order the lasagne dinner with wine - for you know who - and cervesa for his nibs. We sit in the café area, that they use for the breakfast, to eat our dinner and then take the remains of our drinks to our rooms. Ours is a deluxe room with a lovely corner window. It will be easy to sleep tonight in the king-sized bed under a beautifully-comfortable duvet.

Monday, Nov. 15.

We notice what appears to be a store behind the hotel and local buses coming regularly to a stop. After the fabulous spread which will do for breakfast and for lunch, we strike out to see the town. We have a photocopied map of the downtown area. Our hotel isn’t even on it, but the main road that passes in front is there.
When we get around the block, we see that it is some kind of medical clinic in the building that at one time was a super mercado. The bus is the #7 and, yes, it goes to el centro. Instead of paying $8 to get downtown, we pay about $1.50 - in the hundreds of Chilean pesos.
Our main task is to go to the Sky airlines office to book our flight from Santiago to Arica next week. Easy. Just follow the map, speak Spanglish, pay the money, and it is all done. Now we walk to the downtown bus depot from which buses go to Pucon at least every half hour. We get a ticket to take us there tomorrow morning at 10 a.m. It is only a two-hour trip, so we decide we will sleep in for a change.
We venture through the Mercado Central, always a must in any Latin American city. Lots of meat stores, craft stalls, and eateries. It is such fun. It is lucky I have no room in the suitcases or I would have ten pounds of woollen yarn. It is all so unique and the colours are wonderful. We wander many side streets towards an area where the night clerk said there are lots of restaurants. We are in the university area. Many of the restaurants are closed until evening. We have a little food in the backpack, so we sit in a tiny park area and have a snack and a drink of water.
We wander back to the area where we got the bus into town and Peter tries to communicate with a #7 driver about getting back. The driver is not helpful, so we decide to await the next bus. Within five minutes, another comes along and I clamber on and ask about the stop we want. Yes, he goes there. The little bus is quite full, so I stand while the bus starts on its way and Peter pays. Before we get to the next stop a lady, about the age of our kids, gets up to give me - the old lady - a seat. I graciously accept. I don’t feel as old as I am, but if someone is going to be so nice as to give me a seat, that’s fine. We have not had this courtesy since Bolivia.
I’m glad we do not have too much time in Temuco. We did not take a taxi to the top of the hill where there is a Mapuche statue etc., but that is the only tourist interest in town. The place is one of the fastest growing cities in Chile, but, at the moment, it has little of interest.
Once we get back to the hotel, we decide to walk a while and see if we can find a restaurant. There is one only 10 minutes away that is called Pura Carne. Sounds like beef! We look at the menu and decide to return for dinner. This turns out to be a good move as we both have a nice meal.
We have booked the Holiday Inn on our way back north, so we are not sad about leaving! In the morning we are off to Pucon and the Volcan Villarrica. It is so much fun anticipating and having no idea what to expect!

Santiago

A real mummy!

Real shrunken heads!

(I figure the kids will like these.)

The handsome young guards at the Palacio.

The old lady with " .



An indigenous statue in Plaza de Armas.

It is not his dog, just a stray.
This dog is not ded, just taking a snooze in Plaza de Armas.



Everyone is happy because Marilyn got her new memory card!

The water canon truck is ready for demonstrators.

Inside the National Library.

The walk up Santa Lucia hill.

View from the hill.

Inside Bellas Artes.










Two contrasting statues - horror & contentment.

Our little, but lovely hotel. The red building.

Dancers outside of the Marco Polo retaurant.

Friday, Nov. 12.

We are off to Vina del Mar (and maybe Valparaiso). The subway, with only one change, gets us to the bus terminal, tickets are easy, and we are on our way. It is a one and one-half our journey to Vina del Mar. As you have to go through the mountains to the coast, there are a couple of interesting tunnels. The first is quite long and we feel like we are descending all the way. When we exit the second tunnel, the fog becomes evident. By the time we get to town, it is downright cold! I’m glad I have my long pants and jacket, but wish I had a sweater and socks.
We visit the information booth and get a map of the city. It is much bigger than we were expecting. We walk down the street from the station towards the ocean and stop for coffee. Deciding where to go is always a problem. There is a museum I have read about, so we head there first. It is in an area of town which is still upscale, but must have been wonderful fifty years ago. The Francisco Fonck museum is a little gem. It is situated in an old mansion, but I think has been moved from the larger building next door which has been “earthquake” damaged and is in the process of repair. The guide book said that 45 minutes is needed for a visit. Well, Peter and I were there for at least an hour and a half. The Easter Island artefacts are well laid-out with long explanations in Spanish and shorter ones in English. From the archaeological display, I will attempt to post the shrunken-heads and the mummy! Quite fascinating in a small exhibit.
From here we walk up to the Palacio Riojo - an opulent family home from the early 20th century- but it is closed for renovations.
Finally, we get to the ocean. The waves are much like in San Jose! I love the smell of the ocean. There are high-rise condominium apartments all along the beach road. It appears that many are being renovated or cleaned ready for the summer season which will soon begin.
We discover that my memory card in my camera is full! We try to replace it, but can not find a store with a compatible card. Peter is getting tired, so we do not take the “Merval”- a subway/tram to Valparaiso - but walk back to the terminal to return to Santiago. As it is, it is after five before we get back to our hotel and we are both weary. Tonight will be pizza in the shopping mall food court downtown - with all the locals, not a tourist in sight. My, but we do fit in!

Saturday, Nov. 13.

Nothing planned for today, so we have a 10 o’clock start in search for a memory card for my camera. We try a few places and end up at the large department store, Johnson. They sell Olympia cameras, but the young guy explains, they don’t have the compatible memory cards. We ask where we might try. He gives us instruction - you have to realize, all this is in Spanish! - to a place a block up and just on the left - Koniko - they can make a copy on a disc of my pictures. When we get there, not only can they copy my pictures onto a DVD - in ½ an hour - but they have my memory card! I am so happy I blew the guy a kiss. I buy a card and we put it in the camera. We are now all set to travel.
This will go in my travel hints booklet - always have a spare memory card - even if yours is really big. I find with the older architecture, I must use the higher definition setting on the camera to get enough light to take the picture. This takes up way more space on the memory card.
We wander around the main areas, visiting the plaza with the Government House, very understated, handsome young guards on horse-back in front. There is a demonstration - Don’t exterminate our dogs - a few blocks away. The large police presence keeps the fifty or so demonstrators moving in the direction which is acceptable.
Two asides:
1. For a city that is alive with dogs, many of which are sleeping in the damnedest places, there is no evidence of dog poop. It is quite intriguing. There is one mangy old guy who sleeps by the kiosk on the next corner and does not seem to move, but there was half a hot dog bun beside him one day.
2. Smooching in public, almost to the point of ludity, seems perfectly acceptable. Henry mentioned the young lovers on the park benches in Mendoza, but it is everywhere. And it is not always young people! There was one couple in the park across from us, by the river, which even a local group passing by seemed to feel had gone too far. The man was fully on top of the woman!
We view an interesting display of maps of the new world over the centuries at the National Library. We wander up - like more climbing - Cerro Santa Lucia - an area which was once for the rich of Santiago, We continue back to our hotel along the park by Rio Mapocho, which runs just across from our hotel.
Today for lunch we finally try a hot dog - I’m not sure what they call them here, but they are panchos in Mendoza - but they rival Jose’s famous dogs in San Jose and that is going some! They come in three sizes and we choose the medium - about 9 inches. The bun is also long and you get a multitude of toppings. Peter gets to eat mine as his is smothered in avocado - which is palta here. For dinner, as most places are closed, we end up on Plaza de Armas at Marco Polo, which seems a popular local place, and I have soup and a “palta” salad (1 ½ avocadoes) while Peter has ½ roasted chicken - bone removed but skin on with papas fritos - just as greasy as those famous Montreal fries - and just as good.
We will be back in Santiago on November 22. There is still much to see, but we have decided that walking the streets and inhaling the smells, consuming the tastes, watching the people - this is our joy in traveling. We are not great tourists, but, I think, we are good travelers.
Tomorrow we are off to the Lake Country beginning in Tecumo. We get to stay in a “real” hotel for two night. Every now and then we need the familiar.

Santiago

River across from our hotel.

The fountain on the way to Plaza de Armas.

Tables

Thursday, Nov. 11. Remembrance Day in Canada.

Our first task of the day is to get Peter some new pants to replace the ones ruined in Mendoza - as he is not too fond of the replacement pair. Also, we need to buy tickets to Temuco - our first stop in the Lake District. The first is accomplished quickly but following the manager’s directions to the Metro station. Continuing to the downtown mall he suggests, Peter soon has a nice pair of pants. We then make our way to the Hop-on, hop-off bus to tour the city. Yes, there are some down-bits like the wiring that is much like in La Paz, but the new seems to overshadow the old in Santiago. I have made a lunch-to-go, so when we arrive at the huge, modern shopping centre, we hop-off and have our lunch feeling as secure as we would at the mall in North/West Vancouver.
As in some shops in Buenos Aires, many of the shops here are very upscale. Being from Castlegar, we look but don’t go in. On our way back to the bus, I notice a shop called Canadienne! Seemingly, the parents of the owner are French Canadienne. As I look around, I spy a neat pair of light beige “you-are-not-a-tourist” looking pants. They fit well, and, for some unknown reason, I get 1/3rd off. Good deal. Now we each have a new pair of pants.
We just miss one bus, and almost miss the second, which is early, but Peter brings out his youthful running skills and the driver sees him as he approaches. We finish the tour, in awe of the architecture of this amazingly surprising city. We look forward to revisiting some of the places tomorrow or on out return later this month.
After a pit stop at the hotel, we wander back towards Plaza de Armas. What a happening place! There is a demonstration about something, a Christian preaching, many tables of chess matches, and multitudes of people just enjoying the square. We hear what sounds like instruments warming-up. Well, Peter thinks it is bad jazz, but my first impression is correct. There, in the gazebo, is an orchestra that is about to give a concert. They begin promptly at 6 p.m. I will try to post a picture of a darling little girl of about three who is totally into the music, clapping and tapping her feet right in time. Also, there are street-people sitting on the steps to the gazebo. One fellow, a few bricks short of a full load, is dancing uninhibited at the front. It is all part of the life of a vibrant city.
We have dinner tonight at a highly recommended seafood restaurant at the Mercado Central - La Galion. Peter orders meat (at a seafood restaurant) and it is only okay, but I go for the conger eel - wow! Not at all fishy - just firm, white flesh. The place is quite quiet, and we have a conversation with a young couple from Sacramento, California, and then the two waiters, one from Puerto Rico and the other from Lima. It is full day.

Mendoza to Santiago

Sorry, there are no road pictures as they are on my old memory card.

At Plaza de Armas. One of many tree-lined streets. South American wiring!

One of the many modern skyscrapers.

Wednesday, Nov. 10

Wow, writing late at night has its disadvantages. I notice in my last post I begin with Oct. 3 and continue Nov. 4. Hopefully, you didn’t notice - right.

For future reference for anyone coming to Mendoza and not on an expense-account, I can highly recommend the Hotel International. There are loads of restaurants within the block and it is only a block from the main plaza. We have to thank Henry again for pointing us in this direction.

The trip between Mendoza and Santiago is a once in a lifetime adventure. Next to Iguazu Falls, it is probably one of the highlights of the trip so far.

The roads winds up in a very narrow valley with long tunnels. The snow-capped mountains are spectacular. As we approach the border, the line of parked trucks begins. Maybe ten miles of transport trucks parked in line to go to Chile - we assume that is their destination because that is where the road takes you! As we get closer to the border and the summit of the pass, there is road construction, trucks - parked - taking up the right lane, and we are passing, sometimes on a construction vehicle road on the left. We simply have to assume the driver knows how to negotiate the road.
The border crossing into Chile is a one-hour exercise in patience. Before reaching the border, the young steward on the bus comes around with a collection container which is “for the boys at the border”, again we assume this is to expedite our passage. The British couple and the Europeans are just as confused as us, but the locals just pay.

Once we come through the tunnel into Chile, we see what looks like a gondola high up the mountain to our right. Then we see the road down and the chair lift which climbs above it. Anyone who thinks Ossooyos is an exciting road to drive down has not seen this pass in Chile. There are more than 20 hairpin curves (they are numbered) and you can’t see the bottom from the top or vice versa. Well, you can see the valley from the top, but not all the turns. We are in the second seats on the upper level of the bus and it often looks like the front of the bus is over the edge. It must be quite a thrill to be in the front seats. The speed going down is slow and stop. Sometimes vehicles must stop to allow a truck to take the extra room rounding a corner. We hear later from one couple that their bus had to back up on the way down to allow a truck to get around a corner. Archie and Audrey Archambaux drove this road last year and I think they need a medal for that feat. What is also amazing is to see all the large hotels and chalets in this area to support the winter ski crowd. I cannot imagine driving this road in the winter. Look it up on Google - Puente del Inca.

As soon as we are in Chile, the place looks tidy. We have no military stops, nada. After finishing the small lunch provided, I am tired from the early start, so I doze off for an hour or so. I awaken about an hour and a half out of Santiago. For the first time in South America, I think I could be in North America. This impression continues over the next few days. It is hard to say if this is a good thing or not, but the Santiago district is definitely in the 21st Century cosmopolitan.

With a little confusion - Peter needs to find a bank machine and get some money to pay for a taxi - we find our way to the A.H. Hotel. It is at a very busy corner and looks a little iffy, and we are in 502 with no elevator! But all turns out extremely well. This is a small hotel with only nine rooms at the moment (twelve when renovations are completed). We begin on piso # 2, so we are only on the 3rd floor. The suite has two rooms plus a very new bathroom and a small balcony. The bottom line is, we have booked two more nights when we return to Santiago next Monday, so we like it. It is a block to the super mercado, two blocks to the Mercado Central. And three blocks to the Metro. We can be at Plaza de Armas in under 10 minutes walking at Peter’s speed. The whole downtown area is shopping with lots of pedestrian ways. We have become good at wandering.
This first night we check out a restaurant for later, but, once we get to the Mercado for una cervesa and un vino, we pick-up ready-to-cook ravioli and Mexican salsa and decide to eat in. If you have wine & beer, the rest is always good. The king-sized bed and down comforter are a real treat.