Archive for category: Chile
Long day: the previous night offered me few sleep and more drinking than expected. At six, we woke up in order to take a bus to Piñuhuil, to see the penguin colony there. We weren’t very lucky with penguins (it was not the season), but we saw some other sea life.
Then, we -the four of us- started walking towards a beach, making the most of the time until returning to Ancud. Back to Ancud, an old guy that was solving the problems of the world (that meaning drinking wine and having a seemingly deep conversation) recommended me to go to the Huai-Huen Hill. He was very insistently about the beauty of that spot, so we went there. Honestly, wasn’t that impressive. Not a must.
And then, we went to Castro. And I had a fabulous dream in the bus…
Ancud, with its facades worn out by the permanent breeze and the consistent rain. We arrived (Geraldine, Francois and me), crossing the Ancud gulf (predictable name) in a bus of the company ‘Cruz del Sur’. As someone commented me of Chiloé, it was constantly raining. In the hostel, among other people, I met Thomas [de], and went to the only place meaningful in that weather: a bar.
This town was even quieter than Pt. Varas. And it seemed to have the same German influence. I walked around, with Geraldine. Not many stories to tell… the theater seemed a prison, and we returned to Pt. Varas in a bus filled up with students. Some of them with ‘reaggeton’, other with ‘metal!’.
That night appeared another couchsurfer, François [be]. A belgian connection randomly generated.
While our incredible hosts were working, I spent time with Geraldine, walking through lakes and forests. We were in ‘Lago de Todos los Santos’, the falls of Petrohué, et cetera. And we got back hitchhiking, a great method for social interaction and saving money. A local and a couple from the states were our kind transporters. We were always under the glance of a volcano guarded by clouds: Osorno.
Gray day, but I had to do something. Paul was going to Pt. Montt, so I seized that opportunity and went with him. I strolled the coast line and tried to get to the market. But I grew tired, as I didn’t know how far it was. Funny, I gave up only 500 meters from my target. Well, no big deal. Rain poured intensively in my return to Pt. Varas. Then, a couchsurfer, Geraldine [be], appeared at Flora’s house.
I was trying to flee out from Valdivia, but all the buses to Pt. Varas were full. But there were many buses to Pt. Montt, and Pt. Varas is on that way. So I ended up getting out of a bus to Pt. Montt in the Pt. Varas crossing. Then I got another bus to the town: something that wasn’t very necessary, because the house of Flora [cl] and Paul [cl] was near that crossing. But I didn’t know.
Then it came the reunion with Flora [cl]… and I got to met the famous Paul [cl]. Nice people, indeed.
…or Gayldivia, whatever. The short story with Devorah [uk], whom I like to lose pool with again (?). Party and salmon at a cheap price. Photographic interests shared with Elsa [fr] and conversations with her friend Nicanor [cl], the luthier. Long dialogs (some written somewhere else) with Alejandra [cl]. To end this, a concert where jazz becomes a sleeping technique and Mariela [cl] shows off on drums. Appreciateable characters like Felix [de], Lina [de], Teemu [fi], Aline [fi], Marianne [fi], Matilde [fr], Lorena [cl], Andrés [cl], et cetera.