Volcanoes and a detour on a friend's suggestion...not quite the Hobbit.

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After Chiloe we have ventured northwards to the town of Pucon on the shaws of Lago Villarrica. The surroundings are pictureque as you may expect of Chile's Lake District.There are a smattering of lakes, white beaches and lush forests, farms and snow capped peaks. The back drop to all of this countryside idyll is Mount Villarrica. This mountain also happens to be a volcano. An active volcano. A molten rock spewing death bringer which last visited hellfire upon the countryside in the 1980s, but has an angry an violent hisory stretching back further than written records. It's also open at the top making it easier for it to spray armageddon for miles in every direction. So why would we come to this potential Mordor? Well, the volcano isn't as scary as I made out and science boffins have many gadets to let us know when the world could potentially end, although apparently such boffins also think Pucon is, in the words of one of the locals that I spoke to, "...the best candidate for the next Pompeii." Ominous, nilhistic and chilling. But they have a traffic light system to alert you to the impending rapture and helpful signs to help you navigate your way out of town, although in all disaster movies these arteries soon become clogged like a 40 year old Glaswegian's arteries so I'm not sure that'll be of any use. I'm wandering again...we came to climb the Volcano. All 2845m of it. It can't be too hard, thousands climb it every year apparently, and it's one of only 5 that has a visible lava lake. So, now you know the attraction of this place! It's also a hotbed of extreme adventure-type activities like whitewater rafting, mountian biking and canyoning. Oh, and thermal pools.



The hostel Bicicaleta was pretty good, but lacked a kitchen so we had to eat out every night...decent Chilean steaks at Trawen and pubgrub at The 73. The hostel was run by a charismatic chap called Jose and his wife and little kids. They also have too mental dogs. Jose was most helpful with recommending the best companies to use for climbing the volcano and suggesting the routes to take on the mountain bike to the thermal pools. On our first full day we met Chris an American guy here on a surfing vacation, ("But I'd gotten bored of the surf, you know?" Uh, no, I've never been surfing but I'm sure you can get bored of anything after two straight weeks) and we all hired bikes from the hostel and headed to one of the local lakes via the Ojo Cascada. The Ojo (The Eye) is a waterfull that spring up straight from the ground, not from a river, and pours into a huge pool with a second fall doing so opposite. It was a tranquil and beautiful spot and the water invited you to dive in a cool off (it was about 25C). We didn't dive in as it's not allowed. Boring. But we did take some photos and eat lunch here which was pretty cool.

Chris is from Baltimore (played lacrosse at College too) but lives in San Diego and has a very Californian outlook on life so it was interesting to discuss philosophies, politics and sport with him. He loves to cycle, as does Ellie. I, however, dislike riding a bike, it's bumpy and I can't be doing with saddle soreness. But they enjoyed the physical challenge while I ambled along behind them up to the lake, surrouned by that wonderful countryside. At the lake we decided to head to the thermal pools along the ripio road. However, we never made it, we instead ended up in a national park having climbed a huge hill on a winding road. Chris managed to cycle the whole way up, Ellie and I admitted defeat and pushed for a large part. It was physically punishing and although I secretly enjoyed the uphill parts to start with, the sheer number of them pushed me beyond my limit and I was broken on the return journey, luckily the first bit was back down that massive hill! We had managed to miss the turn off as it wasn't signposted (bravo) and other roads weren't even marked on the map...it was all very confusing. And it was hot, I think I mentioned that right? Anyhow, we cycled back to town completing a 70km circuit. I told Ellie and Chris to leave me, like the good, valiant trooper that I am. I'd be able to fend myself out there once my will to peddle had gone. I could have stalked prey and lived of the land until a rescue party came. I battled on, mostly against myself, and they did leave me (they'd never make US Marines...never leave anyone behind...Black Hawk Down taught us this much) and caught them up in town. I was exhausted so had a well earned beer. Bradley Wiggins would have approved I think. I'm contemplating grown sideburns to be more like him...

Mount Villarrica awaited us the following morning at 6.30am. It's a formidable, snow covered foe. To tame this beast of nature we were provided with walking boots, hard hat, crampons and an ice axe. I'd never used an ice axe before. I imagined myself having to smash it into the surface of the volcano in a manly fashion and then haul mysef up a sheer piece of ice. As it turned out I mostly used it as a walking stick and brake (I'll explain when I come to the descent), which seems less heroic and explorer-like than I'd hoped. The sun is up at the same time as us, so no scrambling around in the dark. Our party consisted of 12 people and 4 guides which was reassuring. The company, Agua Venture, has a good reputation and that can't be said for all operators, do some research before you go perhaps think twice about Trancura. Along with Chris there were 3 other Americans, a couple from Hong Kong, three women from France and a slightly annoying Kiwi lady (she was too nonsensically chatty for 6.30am, and the reduction in oxygen on the ascent only had a minor impact on her inane ramblings, luckily she was well behind us on the slope so it wasn't too grating). The early part of the ascent took us up through the lower ski slopes and chairlifts and over some exposed volcanic rock. The snow was fine to walk on but the boots we had lacked sufficient flexion in the soles to be effective on the rocks. Luckily 99.9% of Villarrica was covered with the white stuff ,although as summer progresses it becomes increasingly less so and the guides said that it is less fun to do the trip then...and that when most tourists actually come here. Up close the volcano is domineering, I was awed by the sheer size of it, the cloudless blue sky provided a stark contrast to the flawessly white snow and the toxic sulphur gas that eminated from the peak.

It took 5 and a half hours to zig-zag our way to the summit, taking regular breaks along the way. We lost one of our party (woman from Hong Kong) early on, she didn't plummet to the bottom or suffer a horrific accident, she just got tired and couldn't be bothered to keep going. This meant we also lost a guide. But like all itrepid explores we carried on despite the untimely demise of our colleague (I'm sure Captain Oates would have approved). The going was relatively easy, which surprised me as I expected it to be a bit tougher. The snow was fairly compact, despite quite a few slipping episodes at lower altitudes, which aided our progress. The muscles in our thighs, buttocks and lower back were tight and sore afterwards due to the awkwardness of scaling 2800+m with one foot being constantly higher than the other. At any given point one side of your body takes more strain than the other and my problematic IT Bands were screaming at me by the time I reached the summit. The first 2000 or so meters were plain sailing, taking us up past the ski fields and the charred remains of the old chairlift, known as La Capilla, or the Chapel (destroyed by the volcanic eruptions in the '70s). We then crossed a narrow ridge, only wide enough for one person, with sharp drops either side before climbing the near-vertical final face. This last stage afforded us great views when we stopped and seemed to be easier than the earlier stages, despite the reduction in oxygen. This entire stage sits atop a glacier too and our guides had to be careful not to drop us down in to a crevasse, luckily they succeeded. We lost one of the French women to fatigue here and another guide...our attrition rate was like Scott's in 1912. If this kept up we'd be resorting to cannibalism (you've seen the film "Alive"? That plane crash happened in Chile, just remember that when you think it's fun to climb mountains here. Or more accurately catch a dodgy aeroplane...) and writing morbid diaries for rescue parties to find years later. The rest our heroic group pushed on. The chatting stopped as the air thinned out. The summit appeared to be tantalisingly close...but it was an optical illusion...there is nothing here to suggest scale, only the mental skiiers, looking like ants coming down from the top...it then seemed quite far...but we kept plugging away. Then, when we were so close to triumph, a mere 150 metres away from glory, the bloody Kiwi and the chap from Hong Kong wanted to go back down because it was tiring! We needed two guides to take us safely to the summit, if these slackers went back, we all went back. And that wasn't happening. The guides and the rest of our group gave them encouragement and the pace dropped to help them break through their wall. Inch by inch we crawled our way skywards, if we had have stood still, the receding glacier would have taken us there at the same speed. One last push and we were there! The view was incredible but the volcano was smoldering. Toxic gases seeped forth from its bowels, choking us and preventing us from seeing 360 or to the depths of the lava (apparently the lava lake is higher in the summer). Nothing nice comes from a volcano, poison and death being the sum total of it's gifts to nature and humankind. But the view was breathtaking, literally with that gas, we looked down upon Pucon and the surrounding country and had the sensation of being on top of the world.



So as to not to succumb to the fumes we headed back down. The descent would take an hour or so as we were going sledging, on our backsides all the way to the bottom. At school we had to use plastic bags to sledge down the hill in the snow, it seems this idea has been taken on by the mountaineers as we were each given what I came to refer to as an "arse-paddle"; a piece of plastic to cover your derrier and to speed up the plunge down the mountainside. I got some impressive speed and even some airtime coming off a few jumps and frequently Ellie, Chris and myself forgot to use the break (the ice axe). It was like being transported back to childhood and it was pure joy to blitz down through the powder. A couple of times we formed "trains" and achieved some scary speeds. And then were at the bottom and enjoying a cold beer and nursing sunburnt noses despite applying excessive amounts of sunscreen. Mine blistered a few days later and I looked "...like a coke fiend" according to my ever charming wife! This is th women who is a doctor and once told my hung over brother that he looked like a "...heroin adddict." Clearly leaves the bedside manner in the hospital.

After two days of battering our bodies, we treated them to a few ours in the relaxing thermal baths. No fancy resorts here, just rock pools next to a fast flowing, ice cold, river. The hottest pool was 38C which was a bit excessive and nearly made me faint, but we endured the hardship of relaxing here with nothing but the sound of the rapids and birds to occupy our ears and the occassionaly gecko to capture our attention. It was tranquil and serene and cheap. My aching muscles appreciated the day off and I felt relaxed and ready to move on to Concepcion via Temuco.

Temuco was the birth place of Pablo Neruda, a Chilean Poet and Politician (more of him in the Santiago blog), but is not such a great town in and of itself. It's primarily a base for exploring national parks but we stopped here onthe way to Concepcion on the coast. We stayed in a Hospedaje Aldunate. This was run by Maria Christina, a retiree, who was welcoming and friendly. The accommodation was exactly how I'd imagine a gran, not my gran, but someone I don't know's gran's, would be decorated and kept. The decor was 1970's/'80's but it was clean and warm (wood burning stoves are amazing) and had a lot of chintz and wonderful objects scattered throughout, like her Russian travel chest! Maria also made an effort to slow her Spanish down so that Ellie and I could understand her! We ate out at a German pub near the university and I had "The Volcano" a stack of chips, topped with BBQ sausage, Steaks, Cheese, Avocado dip, salsa and mayo. A lot of food and a stein of larger to wash it down with. Suffice to say everything was consumed. The cake selection here is amazing too, we sampled a few and they were very tasty. But we left early the next day to go to Concepcion.

"Why did you go to Concepcion?" I was later asked by Carolina in Santiago. Good question. The answer is quiet simple, a friend told me to go there! Steve, a solicitor from Newcastle was christened there and still has family in the area. We attempted to meet one of his cousins but that failed, although Carolina is another cousin and we did meet her in Santiago. Concepcion is Chile's third largest town and has a hugh and famous university. The town itself is most unfortunate in that it keeps getting destroyed by earthquakees and tsunamis. Due to the orgy of destruction Mother Nature has deemed fit to wreak upon her, Concepcion is somewhat devoid of old buildings and othr physical remenants of it's illustrious history; Independence was proclaimed her by Bernardo O'Higgins in 1812. It's quite a small place and the centre is a typical grid pattern with the inevitable O'Higggins plaza that every settlement in Chile seems to have (but we'll give them and him a break as he did defeat the Spanish Empire)! Some of the outerlying streets are bit rough and ready, and although safe they really don't offer much of interest. We tried and failed twice ot find the murals at the train station which are apprently fascinating (sorry Steve, the information office gave us duff info)! Parque Equador was peaceful and we got a couple of good vantage points of the city, but not from the summit! It was however dominated by mountain bikers! The coffee in town was absolutely sublime, the best in SA so far and definitely on a par with decent stuff back home. Thank you! We tried and failed to eat empanadas at Don Bilbao's on Colo Colo as they don't serve them on Saturdays and this is supposedly an empanada institution. The stew was equally tasty though, vegetable and beeef slow cooked in a stock with chillies. It was quite interesting to visit somewhere off the traditional tourist circuit and to mingle with locals at the market and in the cafes, although I missed an opportunity to watch Chile play Peru in the football, bad timing on my behalf. Must try harder! Concepcion served as a stop over on our way to Santiago which we're both looking forward to visiting. It'll be nice to get back to a bustling city again having been a month away from BsAs now.

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Photos

Villarrica
Awe inspiring!

Ojo
The Eye. Obviously can't get both falls in as they are opposite sides of the pool!

What a view
Pucon from the top of a hill nearby.

Success!
We made it and look at that view...

Ice covered lava
This is what you get when you mix two extremes! This is near the summit of the volcano.

View!
Llaiman in the background, a huge volcano.

The Descent
Fast and furious in the snow.

Chilling
Thermal baths were the cure to the cycling and climbing insanity

River at the hot pools
Tranquil and cold!

Ellie enjoying the ridiculously hot pool
I melted, she just smiled and enjoyed the whole experience!

Concepcion
The view of the city from Parque Ecuador