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Published: December 28th 2009
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Puerto Montt
After nice fish supper Vik's bit:
Intrigued by the sound of a place still steeped in legend and folklore as a result of its isolated status, we set off on the ferry for the island(s) of Chiloe off the coast of mainland Chile. Our first stop was in the small town of Ancud, a perfectly ordinary place with extraordinary seafood. But entrusting our choice to the Lonely Planet's wisdom we stayed here only one night before opting to move onto the "Chiloe's most attractive town, Chonchi". Making our way past some early socialisers on the beach we located the only hostel here; clearly a bit past it's best, the bloke that then greeted us looked like it was some time since his last conversation, which is perhaps why he was so keen to take the opportunity for a lengthy (one-way) chat. We politely listened as he shared his unsolicited thoughts on a deteriorating Chile; a socialist president who has introduced a whole raft of crazy policies...transport not only for the wealthy (imagine taking good buses to the slums), men to contribute financially when they accidentally father a child (outrageous. Prisons are apparently now full of impoverished fathers, preyed upon by professional pregnant-getters, no room for
the hardened criminals wrecking the buses) and some exploration of the idea of giving Bolivia back its access to the sea (just ridiculous). There is a silver lining though, thank god, at least Chile's approach to democracy (an active commitment to voting that is voluntary but once made must be adhered to; if you register and don't then vote you will be fined - you would probably be incarcerated if the jails weren't chocker with destitute dads) means that "the losers" don't vote. And we all know that it's so much better when the marginalised don't get a say.
Having listened to the political broadcast, we took to the beach. Only to encounter one of aforementioned early socialisers ('loser'). Another inordinate amount of time passed whilst we listened politely to the man share his story. Bits of it we grasped, but whether it was the rapid spanish or his missing teeth (probably both) large parts of it were lost on us. After maybe 40 minutes I think he started to realise that his audience wasn't entirely with him; he dried his tears, did a big smile and went on his merrier way.
We didn't really warm to Chonchi. I think
we got off to a bad start with it.
Steves thought crumbs
After filling our boots with really really good fish dinners in Puerto Montt, we headed off for Chiloe. Chiloe which was the last stronghold of the once spanish empire in South America, also formerly known as New Galicia. So on the Galicia front it was wet, people ate lots of fish and the country side is a patchwork of small farms, with lots of small woods and bogs. Our first day was spent in Ancud, a pretty, small town where you could stroll down the beach, and visit the last fort, its few remaining rusty guns still peering out to sea. Chiloe is not exactly set up for the backpacker, but if you had a car there seemed to be great places to visit, we however had the bus. The chuches of Chiloe are quite special, made of wood that they built using the same techniques as for boats, with strange interlocking joints, this method saved them from the numerous earthquakes that have flattened everything else over the years. We visited a very good museum which had small scale wooden models of the sixteen Unesco protected churches. However most of the churches were hard to reach so we visited only a few, and then some were locked. The town of Castro was surrounded by small houses balanced over the sea on long wooden pilons, their multi-coloured exteriors contrasting with the dark brooding skies. A walk on to one of the many small islands, made for a short ferry ride, then a wander along quiet lanes past small houses, an often strong smell of cows, and the ever present bright greens. Then on our walk back the police stopped us and told us to get in the back of the car - we were then greeted by two friendly cops just wanting a chat with some foreigners whilst doing there daily round. Basically were chatted about footy, food and swear words (in terrible spanish) as they raced down the tiny roads, shouting and waving at their friends, then dropping us off at our digs...smiles and hugs then they were gone!
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