Pucon, a town dominated by a huge volcano (apparantly)

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Happy St Patricks day to my Irish Readers.

One of the best things about arriving at a place with nowhere to stay is the pot luck of it all. Sometimes you pull a blinder, like Entretenido in castro, others, well,....

me in my best spanish- hola. ¿teines habitation para una noche.?

R- ¿que?

me ¿ teines....habitation...la noche?

R- ¿que?

me doooo yooo have a roooom por le noche?

R- no

adios.

other times you think you are in the correct place but you are not.

Take the Hostel Internacionale in Valdivia. Huge sign on the building in the compound and small building which looks like someones house to the left. Wander into what looks like a very well lived in reception area. TV, telephone,computer, crisp packets everywhere and evidence of a cracking lager session.

no one about.

´Hola´I shout out´Hola!'

'Si,' comes the reply and a half dressed and very drunk chiloen man wanders down the stairs. He possesses huge hairy beer belly which he insists on scratching. Blood red eyes, halitocis, unshaven and he was as pissed as a handcart. It did not look good but as we had already been turned away from some hostels due to them being full I tentatively asked:

hola senor. ¿tienes habitation para una noche?

¿Que?

He being very very drunk I repeated a few times, as did Yann. eventually I said

¿tu es el heffe? which hopefully means you are the boss?

much scratching of beer belly here.Then barely able to keep his balance, his huge beer gut making him topple forward,he points to the small building in the compound, the one without the sign.

You are ahead of me here already I can tell.

but for the sake of completeness, the small unidentified building was the hostel, the building with the huge sign on it was the guys home and we had wandered into his front room. South America baby.

So, in a better place mentally today. Even composed a poem.

whilst travelling up to Pucon,

relaxing with musica on

Then after the hits,

I shouted out 'shit,(s)'

'my passport and money are gone.'

Booked night bus to santiago to link up with Andres tuesday.

linked up with Karina and whilst Yann watched France lose to Wales in the rugby 6 nations we went a wander.

I have been assured that the skyline is dominated by a huge active volcano but unfortunately because of the clouds I cannot see it. ah well, maybe tomorrow.

you can also climb the volcano but health and safety not a big thing in south america. three day trippers died on the volcano last few months, falling to their untimely deaths. The guides, you are not allowed up there without them, blamed their equipment.-which the company provides!

consequently they are a lot more cautious and when cloudy there is no climbing at all. Bad publicity for the town, especially when there is an election for the new mayor soon. All in all, with my knee now fully recovered, health and safety not being a top priorty, I have no cash saved that Yann has lent me, and the fact that i am not sure it is actaully there at all, I will give it a miss.

Pucon is the activity centre of this region. very much like Queenstown, New Zealand is this repect. It has the same 'boutiqueee feel to it' with all the usual suspects in every other shop offering day trips here and there for volcano, fishing etc etc. However whereas Queenstown is all year activity, skiing in winter, nutty waterpsorts on summer, Pucon has two very short seasons, maybe three months summer and 3 months winter for the snow, which is not the best to ski on.

On 28th February, the last day of the high season the town is heaving, and you can barely cross the street. Every hostel room is full to bursting, with pot luck travellers sleeping on floors, and so you need to book ahead. March 1st it is the start of the low season and everyone bails out. We are in the Summit hostel. Its march 17th. A really great find but its just me, karina and Yann, plus two chilean holidaymakers.

Cue here for the Specials little tune 'this town, ahh ahh, is becoming like a ghost town'

seriously, there is hardly anyone here. a few backpackers, but the rest are locals.

still chance to breathe for the locals and a chance for me to enjoy with no rush and mass of people. ´me tomo me tiempo'

Karina and i wander past a craft stall area. most shut but a few open. Two really great guitarists just jamming with each other to the latin america beat. just sat and watched them play, for free. amazing. One playing some really cool chords, the other then playing over the top, and vice versa.

there is one issue that every town in latin america has and that is street dogs. they are smart intelligent animals who can sniff out a gringo at a thousand paces. the locals ignore them, the grinogs give them tit bits. consequently by the time we got to the beach to have a beer we had five dogs following us.

I am not really a dog person and the thought of being bitten by a rabid one does not appeal, but all the street dogs look well fed and looked after. How, i am sruggling to explain, as are my two companeros. The really clever ones, like one I saw i peurto varas, wanted to cross the road. It sat at the kerb, waited for the green man and crossed. remarkable. they are so at ease with humans and never attack them because they know they feed them.

consequently by the time we got to the bar on the beach (well i say beach, it was black volcanic grit on the lakeside) we had about 5 dogs in tow.

being on a better mood went to a St Patricks day evening at local bar. I am happy to repot that jack Daniels and coke is the same here as in the UK. (except the measures they give you are huge). suffice to say staggered into bed at 5.30am after much frolicing and dancing about. My trauma of the previous day a bad memory already. dishctho ooout.

day 2. weather report- cloud and lots of it. State of body report Head- banging.

I am beginning to think I have been tricked here and that the volcano does not really exist at all. It's just a ruse to lure suckers like me into the town. One thing to report last night. The chile radio experience manifested itself again in the bar we were in. Dancing away to a tune, 12 bars later a new tune and so on. Being a little worse for wear I could not be arsed to speak to the dj ask him why?.the mystery therefore continues.

Living off the cash Yann has given me has curtailed my activity plans a little, so did some things for free, like writing this blog listening to soundcloud and mixcloud on the internet, walk to the ash/grit beach and read a book, nurse a beer for an hour or two, and then stand outside the bank doors. 'beam me up scottie'.

Later I cooked up a spagetti bolognaise for my housemates and I, washed down with copious amounts of a great Chilean red. A lovely quiet sunday. Perfecto. disco out.

day 3. woke up to blue skies. except for some cloud´-in spanish 'nube'-. Have a guess where this cloud was located? You betcha, over the # volcano! So i still have not seen it. Can make out the shape though. Samy, the hotel owner said 'when the volcano has a hat, bad weather is coming'. clear blue skies? I doubt it. Two hours later its pissing down. Ah well, I commented 'si la vide te da Limones, estonces hace limondade'. No, says samy ' si la vida te da limones, estonces hace Picos Sour'. much better idea. going for a wander and find a bar. disco out.

Great news blog readers. I have not been hoodwinked at all. the cloud has cleared and there really is a massive active volcano dominating the town. looks very impressive. of course, if i had a camera i would have taken a picture of it. As it is you will just have to trust me.

So, how do i prove i say i am when i get to the embassy and how do i prove i am british.

here are my thoughts:

walk in complaining about the weather. if it's sunny then it will be too hot, if not then talk about the rain for hours on end.

kit myself up as a morris dancer, white suit, bells, the whole 9 yards. Set up a maypole and prance about the embassy making stupid patterns with ribbin

quote shakespeare. " is this a dagger i see before me, then handle towards etc etc". on second thoughts maybe telling the staff I am heavily armed is not a good idea.

argue that it is scone, not scone and treat the staff to some with strawberry jam and clotted cream. might be difficult to source in chile though. A bacon and egg sandwich on the other hand.

which is better, Eastenders or corrie. they are both shit but prepared to go to any lengths.

quote scenes from monty python. ' i fart in your general direction, your mother was a hamster and your father smelt of elderberries'. on second thoughts John Cleese says that in a french accent so may be self defeating.

anyways, have put out for suggestions on Faceshit and twitter. watch this space.

Had a few beers, bade my farewells to Yann, Karina and staff at hostel and heading for the bus. Next stop, Santiago. completely unplanned but needs must as they say.

disco out

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