What a fizz man!


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South America » Chile » Araucanía » Pucón
October 17th 2005
Published: November 7th 2005
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volcan villarricavolcan villarricavolcan villarrica

view from our bed...I want to climb, I want to climb!
You know other peoples holidays, right? Well they’re like dials that go up to ten on normal amps. Well we've got an amp called the intense-o-meter. Our holiday, right, it goes to eleven in intensity, see?, eleven.
And that means that its much more intense? I hear you ask.
Well, its one more isn’t it, its not ten, its eleven. So while most people will be holidaying at ten, we’ll be at eleven. (respect to Spinal Tap)

It seems like a long time since we blogged… this isn’t intentional, in fact its because my hands have been so cold I can’t type, this is still the case as I sit here in a freezing internet/call centre in a place called Puerto Varas in Chile. This is the lake-district, and to get lakes you need water, and water comes from melted ice and rain. And what do ice and rain make - cold weather. However, they also make for fantastic scenery and plenty of opportunities for trekking and trying to outdo myself doing wicked things. Add to this the fact that Chile and Argentina have great food and wines, and we are having a great time.

We left the wine district and Claire’s dreams behind with an easy bus ride to Pucon, a small town beside a big lake that looks like it should be the picture on from of the chocolate box, only has three things; hostels, restaurants and tourist agencies offering climbs, rafts etc etc. After a small upset with the hostel we (er…I) had planned to stay at, we found somewhere much more suited to our needs (does this sounds familiar at all?!). But it all happens for a reason and the Hostel Geronimo turned out to be much better. It is run by the hardest-working man in the hostel business - he´s there 24 x 7 and looks absolutely knackered for it, but always has a smile for you - lovely bloke. Great room too - number 12 - with a view of Volcan Villaricca that overlooks Pucon.

But I had more important things to attend to - getting a fix doing something stupid. Which I managed quite well this time: skydiving. We were in an agency fixing up a trek up the local volcano when I spotted a poster on the wall advertising this skydive, and that was it - I had to go.
just a little tighter...just a little tighter...just a little tighter...

Peter tightens those already tight straps
In addition the fact that my mate Pauly B (he’s got no hair and we don’t care; respect to you P) and his girlfriend Vicky had already done it and I couldn’t have that now could I? So the very next day found me being strapped into a harness, shoved in a very small plane with a hole in the side, being flown very quickly to 10,000 feet by an ex-champion acrobatic pilot who wanted to keep his hand in, and launching myself out of this perfectly good aircraft…

In fact I was attached to Peter at the time - a great bear of a Chilean who put me at ease the instant I met him by saying “you know this is dangerous don’t you”! For some reason I never doubted it would be ok after this and trusted him implicitly as we went through routines for getting into the plane, out of the plane, and free-falling through the air from a long way up. As it happened the instructions for the last bit I completely forgot as we left the airplane, the inner calm I had had until that point suddenly deserting me as I realised what the hell I had just done - but to be replaced with an enormous grin from one ear to the other. The free-fall lasted only seconds but was an amazing feeling, then the parachute opened and we spent four or five minutes getting to the ground. I would have said gracefully but Peter decided to try parachute acrobatics, alternately letting air out of the parachute to make us turn horizontally left right and then straight down. Claire bless her stayed on the ground valiantly trying to film my efforts, but could apparently (and the video bears this out) could hear my screams and whoops before she could see me! We landed softly under Peters guidance, to be met by the video camera for a first reaction interview in which I managed not to swear profusely (the Rogers trademark steadiness in front of cameras) but did mutter inanely something about “love this extreme stuff…what a fizz man” and “can we do it again”. Needless to say the beer flowed that night. For days afterward everyone we had met kept coming to ask me what it was like etc. Even the guys in the agency watched the video several times and I think they’ve kept a copy to show potential victims. The grin stuck to my face for about three days and the beers continued as we met up on consecutive evenings with Nick from the UK, Mike from Aspen and Lisa from the Landhaus (see below) to try out the beers and bars of Pucon. Lisa had arrived a couple of weeks before to work for two or three months. Very young, she was beginning to think the work was slave labour; low wages, no time off, living in the countryside away from the nightlife with no transport, so was grateful for the company - but on closer inspection of the photos on her camera I think perhaps she wasn’t as lonely as we might have thought! Mike was a self-confessed ‘aerobic nazi’ (what is this?) who worked in Aspen as a ski guide or six months, then in his irrigation firm for the other six. Talk about cushy.

Aside from being in Pucon we stayed in a place called the Landhaus, a couple of cabins set further into the countryside run by some charming but slightly potty Germans, and used it as a base for some fantastic but lengthy and
rather broad grinrather broad grinrather broad grin

"what a fizz!" ?
uphill walks into the mountains.. We had to negotiate rushing rivers by crossing rope bridges, walk across treacherous snow drifts, and steep hills for hours - which is not Claire’s favourite type of walk but we made it all the same and it was lovely. Oh except for the part where the tarantula crossed the path in front of Claire! The snow is now melting as we approach summer but the tops of the hills are still covered, making a real winter scene that I don’t get much anymore being a London boy. These hills are also home to the famous Monkey Puzzle tree, a slightly weird tree which the Chileans have chosen to be their national emblem. These things can live for more than 2000 years and grow very tall and very, very slowly - so one about 4 feet tall is about 15 years old. Anyway there are loads up there and they look great. Afterward we rewarded ourselves with a visit to the local hotsprings where you can wallow in cold, warm, very warm, hot, or really f***ing hot water depending on your preference.

There are a lot of national parks in this area. In fact, throughout South America. And some have been parks for nearly 100 years, longer than any of ours in the UK I am led to understand. But they all seem to have one thing in common: the entrance to the actual park is about 2 miles from the nearest place to park or catch a bus. This may not mean much to you lot sat at home cosily, but I always forget “’the approach walk’, as I have christened it. When you start a walk you are all cheery and chatty and don’t notice the first bit. When you are coming back after walking 15 miles and about to collapse - you see the gate with joy thinking that’s it. In my memory there is only about 100 meters from there to the bus stop. But no, this is when the approach walk hits and you have to walk another couple of miles, dragging your feet every step, and wondering why you don’t remember doing this bit this morning… we even had to run one as the last bus home for the day went in five minutes so we had to make it - this is when Claire started running (not
grin still there!grin still there!grin still there!

...and free cap to prove I did it
something that is seen very often) and startled me sufficiently that I stumbled and twisted my ankle and had to hobble/run the approach back ( you seen what I mean).

Anyway, I also managed to climb Volcan Villaricca. Second time lucky as the weather was too rough the first time, you go out kitting in full waterproofs, climbing boots, gaters, thick fleeces, hats, gloves and overgloves, mandatory minimum of 2 litres water each, and ice pick. So clearly no mild stroll to the top of the hill then. A lot of people don’t get to climb it as the weather can be too bad for so many days that it’s too dangerous. Oh and did I mention that its active? No? Well it is, very much so. There is a huge crater at the top which constantly spews sulphurous fumes and smoke, when you look into it the lava pool is bubbling away at the bottom, and there is a complex warning system in the town as to the safety condition o the volcano and how likely it is to blow up and bury the town in molten lava traveling at 150mph. So there are also days you cant climb it because it is erupting too much. BUT, between all this, like the day I tried it, you get fabulous clear days you can see into the Andes for miles, and spend hours trudging uphill to the top to be rewarded with looking at the lava flows in the crater. The walk isnt that hard, the ice-pick sounds good but it’s mainly to stop yourself sliding all the way down again if you fall over, which would be more downright annoying that dangerous. Having walked to the top in fairly light clothes, as you get near the top the temperature drops to what seems like twenty below and the wind howls around the crater, making the lugging of all that warm gear in your rucksack suddenly seem sensible as you rush to dress in everything available to you. Then after filling your boots with the view, to top it all, you can get down again quickly by sliding on your arse down the snow covered slopes - more whelps of joy from yours truly!

Pucon was ace fun - a real outdoor town.



Additional photos below
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simon with grumpy girlfriendsimon with grumpy girlfriend
simon with grumpy girlfriend

"you drag me up hills"
Volcan VillariccaVolcan Villaricca
Volcan Villaricca

at start of ascent
the volcano craterthe volcano crater
the volcano crater

very much active...
actual lava bubblingactual lava bubbling
actual lava bubbling

crummy picture but you try leaning into an active volcano...


8th November 2005

Stuck on one word!
Hello Both Once again Simon a great write-up and photo's to match. I just sort of stopped when you put that one short sentence in about a Tarantula crossing Claire's path... Loved the grin on your face after your skydive, congratulations but want to know who stuck the ski pole in the top of your head (Lunch at the volcano photo?)
18th November 2005

v.jealous, we enjoyed reading this. Julie and Dave xx

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