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Published: November 27th 2006
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I have been dashing around quite a bit in the past week. From Pucon I travelled east to Valdivia, a town with an unremarkable centre but some attractive gardens and a pleasant riverside, where well fed sea lions lap up the sunshine and pose for tourists. I spent only a night in Valdivia - there really wasn´t that much to see there - and then made my first border crossing by taking a bus east to the Argentinian lakeside resort town of Bariloche. Crossing the border was simple enough but I am sure it could be simpler - we had to stand around for ages waiting for our names to be called out. Even back home my name is rarely pronounced correctly, so listening out for my name here becomes something of a guessing game. Then, after our passports have been stamped, we have to find our bus again. This may sound easy enough but there were other buses around and my bus had moved, rather unhelpfully. It can only be a matter of time before I end up on the wrong bus.
Bariloche is a touristy town, Argentina´s answer to Chile´s Pucon, and is most famous for its chocolate.
There are chocolate shops everywhere, some are so big they could be described as chocolate supermarkets. It is almost like visiting Charlie´s chocolate factory. I spent a few days in Bariloche and used the local buses to see some sights, including Cerro Campanero, a hill which offers superb views of the surrounding lakes, forests and the Andes mountains. Both the Chilean and Argentinian sides of the lake district have some excellent scenery, and thankfully the weather has remained sunny.
One good thing about arriving in Argentina was the chance to use sensible units of pesos. Chile´s use of the peso does not make much sense to me. There are roughly 1,000 pesos to the pound. Quite why they need so many noughts on the end is anybody´s guess, maybe they are trying to out-do Argentina. I am the proud owner of a 1 peso Chilean coin. If my maths are correct, it is worth approximately 0.001p.
From Bariloche I returned to Chile, spending a night in the town of Puerto Varas, situated on another vast lake. Then I travelled on to the island of Chiloe. Chiloe is a hilly island with a charm and character of its own.
It feels very different from the mainland. I could not help but sense the strong community spirit among the people. The bus drivers are constantly waving and tooting as they seem to know everyone they pass. Also, one time a little girl boarded the bus with her father but they had nowhere to sit. The dad simply went to the front of the bus and placed his daughter on a random woman´s lap. I can´t imagine that sort of thing happening anywhere else. I stayed in Castro, which is the capital of Chiloe but still feels like a rural town. To the east is an offshore island called Quinchao, where there is a very picturesque village named Achao. It was so quiet and remote in Achao that I wondered if the residents realised that there was a world out there.
On Sunday I went to the national park on the east side of the island with a French guy from my hostel. There was an information centre at the entrance to the park, which was completely useless. There were no maps or anything and the man sat at the information desk was unable to offer us even the most basic of instructions. We were aware that there was a lake and the man just told us to go to the beach and then keep walking. And so we went to the coast and then walked. And walked, and walked. After about 2 hours of hunting for the lake we finally gave in and then decided enough was enough and came all the way back again. It was a decent enough walk but don´t ask me where that lake is. And don´t bother asking at the information centre either.
After returning to Castro from the national park last night, I just about managed to get my bus back to the mainland. I arrived in the port city of Puerto Montt expecting it to be quiet, as it was 11.00pm on a Sunday night. I could not have been more wrong. The place was absolutely buzzing - the streets were thriving with people and there was a concert going on. Loads of cafes and bars were open, which was just as well as I was starving.
I have forgotten what it is like to have a good night´s sleep. It seems as if the world´s loudest snorers have conspired to follow me around South America. You should hear the snoring I have had to put up with - no ear plug could withstand so many decibels.
Today is Monday and I am about to board a ferry to take me to the far south of Chile. This will not be any old ferry trip, though... I get off on Thursday. It should be quite a journey, and I will tell all in my next blog entry.
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Cynthia
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read your blog
...and loved it. keep having adventures so we can enjoy them too -CJ