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Published: February 19th 2007
Moria's Journey Steph and I have had a lovely week in Chile. After Valparaiso, we checked out a northern beach (RuÑeca) for Steph´s I´m-visiting-from-New-York-where-it´s-cold benefit and then roamed the botanical gardens in ViÑa del Mar.
Then we traveled south to Talca and what is perhaps the nicest hostel ever. I had to remind myself our dorm beds were only $12, so I wouldn´t feel like a spoiled brat spending big dough to stay at a resort. We had a pool, the food was yummy, and there was a petting zoo. On our second day we rented bikes from our hostel, so we could explore a local vineyard or two. Our excursion seemed to be doomed. First, Steph led us in the wrong direction for half an hour or so (I accept partial blame for not checking the map). It wasn´t your average wrong route either. It was HARD. Unpaved roads with lots of hills. Finally, we hit a dead end and realized the error of our ways. On the way back to our starting point, I realized why Steph simply could not bike up the huge hills: her back tire was completely flat. We returned to the hostel for a
new bike and started our journey once again. We had a 4 PM appointment and were determined to make it. Unfortunately, while cruising by the Taxutal, the local bus station, I realized Steph was no longer pedaling, and there was a stray pedal in the middle of the road. Her pedal had randomly fallen off. Sick of crappy bikes and no longer willing to return to the hostel for a new bike, we called Cindy, our favorite hostel employee, and told her the situation. Cindy promised to come soon with ANOTHER bike. We waited. And waited. And waited. Meanwhile, Cindy told us to ask the drivers and employees at Taxutal if they had tools to repair bikes, so Steph and I attempted to do so, mostly using hammer gestures that the dudes found very amusing. None of them had tools though, so we continued to wait for Cindy. At 4 PM, Cind-dawg rolled in with the hostel mechanic, and the two of them took the faulty bike and gave Steph ¨the best one we´ve got.¨ Cindy called the vineyard to say we´d be late, we biked our little hearts out, and finally we arrived at the vineyard and sampled excellent
Our Donkey Friend
at the hostel in Talca.wine. We took our time returning to the hostel, and Cindy and crew didn´t charge us for the bike rental, so there was a happy ending.
We arrived in Pucón on the 13th of February, riding in on a bus, RIGHT NEAR the stinky toilets. By the time Steph and I buy bus tickets, it seems all of the seats except those next to the toilets are taken, so we get to inhale the lovely fumes for hours on end. Pucón was a cute little ski town though, so it was okay. We quickly signed up for a volcano walk since I had yet to come in close contact with a volcano on this trip. Steph and I strolled around the local lake and then checked in with the volcano company. The company broke the news that rain seemed imminent for the next day, and it would be best to postpone another day. Heartbroken, Steph and I attended an amusing Chilean hip hop street concert and hit up a local bar. We managed to befriend several members of the bar staff, my favorite of whom was Limones, a young fellow who spent the entirety of our bar visit doing
Steph´s Pedal
Still smiling though. nothing but squeezing lemons. I don´t know what sort of beverages Chileans consume, but they must contain LOTS of lemons. Not that we saw the lemon juice put to use at all, but I must believe it will be used for the sake of poor Limones. Twin of Limones surfaced at some point in the night, totally freaking out/thrilling Steph. Jorge, part of a two-man entertainment team for the evening, invited us to sing U2´s ¨One¨ with him during his set, and Steph and I agreed with no intention of actually doing it. After harassing the entire bar staff in our broken Spanish for a few hours, we snuck away without saying goodbye or breaking it to Jorge that we wouldn´t be performing that evening. We managed to score Valentine´s day flowers from Limones and Jorge, as well as a few free pieces of pineapple and lemons (of course), so the evening was a success.
The next day it rained and rained and rained, so we went to the tourist office, hoping for a list of rainy day activities. The friendly woman told us there was ONE rainy day activity in Pucón, which was going to the hot springs.
Apparently, the best time to go to the springs is in the rain, and since Steph had never visited any, we began to search for ways to get there. It was a one hour journey, and we had missed the majority of public buses, so we wound up flagging down a taxi and negotiating rates with the guy. I thought we had agreed to a one-way rate that was fairly high but worth it considering the hot springs were our only option, and we could take the cheap bus home. We´d have five hours to kill before the bus ride back, but we were freezing, and I figured passing out like raisins in the hot spring would be better than sitting in a cafe for five hours. When Mr. Mullet Taxi Driver (mullets and rat tails are totally cool here) dropped us off though, he made it clear we had paid for a round trip fare, and he would nap while we soaked. I was thrilled and promptly fell in love with him. Steph and I skipped the cold springs and jumped into the hottest spring upon arrival. It took a few minutes before we defrosted, but eventually we came
back to life and actually enjoyed the contrast of rustic steamy springs combined with chilly rain from above. A nine-year-old Chilean girl befriended us, and we swapped English and Spanish vocabulary. It was a grand way to spend a rainy day, and Steph and I made yet another delicious meal in the kitchen at our cozy hostel.
We had been told to postpone our volcano walk yet another day, so the following day, after spending an hour in the bank to withdraw cash for Steph (because everything takes a little bit longer when you´re traveling), we rented bikes and set out for Laguna Azul (at the end of Ojos del Caburgua), a pool at the end of a series of waterfalls. It was a 40 km bike ride, the first 20 on unpaved roads with steep hills, and the return on a slight incline going against some serious wind. I had to make up Spanish mantras to keep myself going, but I managed to do it, and we saw beautiful hills and farms along the way.
On the 17th, my five-month traveling anniversary, we woke up bright and early for a much-delayed volcano walk, having stared at the
thing for nearly four days. When we arrived at the starting point, the company had forgotten to prep the gear we had tried on three days beforehand, but we weren´t phased and dismissed this error, determined to have a super time. Fairly early in the hike, we noticed the guides were paying close attention to us and asking how we were doing every ten minutes. We were annoyed because we were the only pair of women on the trip, and it seemed they were zeroing in on us because of our sex, but we were comforted that the guides would notice if we died. We continued onward, Steph leaving plenty of room in between her and the person in front of her, so that if the person in front of her slipped on the gravel or snow, a domino effect on the crowded mountain could be avoided. An hour or so into the walk, Steph got yelled at for the first time. Despite the fact that neither of us were wearing our sunglasses because they kept fogging up, Steph received a lashing for leaving hers in her bag while no one looked twice at me. I laughed at Steph, and
Steph gave me dirty looks. Perhaps two hours into the trip, after being asked ¨¿Como estas?¨a dozen more times by the guides, Steph was plucked from the line and told to walk at the back, despite the fact that she´d asked the group members behind her if they wanted to pass her to go faster, and they said no. Not wanting to climb the volcano without my friend, I let everyone pass me, so I could be close to Steph and her now-assigned supervisor whom we named Goggles because of his eyewear. I kept trudging along, trailing behind another group of people, when suddenly Steph called to me and told me Goggles had issued a mandatory water break for her. I stopped fairly high above the two of them and started giggling because I swore I could see Goggles taking Steph´s pulse, but that seemed preposterous. Sure enough though, Goggles was indeed checking to see if Steph would die anytime soon, and the two of them proceeded to argue. Steph told Goggles she was fine, she just liked walking at a slower pace, and she led hikes in the United States. Goggles told her that no, she did not hike
Steph with a Weapon
and the dorky sunglasses they made her wear. at all. Steph became angry. The two of them continued to walk.
At our first major break, perhaps 2 hours into the climb, the big group leader approached Steph. Hoping to make light of the situation, Steph announced ¨I think I´m having a heart attack!¨ I warned her that this would not be a bright idea, but she did it anyway. Mr. Ponytail Lead Guide did not appreciate this bit of humor and told her she needed to go down the mountain because she could not make it to the top. A fight erupted. Our fellow climbers stared while eating their snacks, all of the guides surrounded Steph, Steph in a near-tears state told the guides she was 27 and knew her body well enough to determine whether or not she could climb, Ponytail pointed out that Steph had slipped several times on the climb, Steph argued that we were walking on slippery snow and everyone, including the guides had slipped, and Ponytail eventually gave in, telling Steph she would be assigned the guide-in-training to walk with her to the next major point, at which time it would be determined once again if she was able to proceed to
Above the clouds
made me nauseous. the top.
The new supervisor, Pablo, walked at a poky pace. I enjoyed walking with Steph and her wardens since the pace was a bit more human than that set by the other guides determined to make it up the volcano and back down in record time, ignoring the happiness of the people paying for the climb. Steph had not had a decent meal at the point because she spent the snack break arguing her way into continuing the climb, so she started fading around hour three or three and a half. The guides gave very little time for water breaks, let alone snack time, so Steph proceeded to get weaker and weaker. During one short break, during which Steph was lectured about how her slowness would make the rest of the group die from poisonous gases because they needed to get up the mountain within a certain time frame and she was way too slow for that, despite the fact that we could see the group in front of us the entire time and could have caught up were we not condemned to walk at Pablo´s pace the whole time and let a million other groups pass us,
Boo to Mean Guides
15 minutes from the top. Steph attempted to eat a sandwich and was told those sort of carbs were bad for her, and she should only eat chocolate. Then one of the guides who had been mean to her up to that point started begging for Steph´s precious store of chocolate, which she graciously shared. It kept getting better and better. I continued trudging along, determined to look neither down (being above the clouds made me nauseous) nor up (seeing how far I had to go made me want to cry).
Finally, we reached the last resting point before the summit, 15 minutes from the top. Steph, psychologically damaged and in pain from inhaling the increasingly sulfurous air as we ascended, declared she could no longer go on and I should go without her. I pointed out that we had come this far, and she needed to prove the guides wrong. After a five minute rest, she felt better and announced she was ready to go to the top. Since we had seen multiple other people from other groups do something similar with the approval of their guides, we assumed this was fine. We told Pablo (who had been the only person seemingly determined
Pablo Buckles Me Up
into my ¨pamper,¨ the plastic diaper i needed to slide down the volcano. to get Steph to the top) we were ready to go, and he disappeared, presumably to gather up one or two other stragglers for the big walk. However, the next time he appeared he told us to put on our ¨pampers,¨special diaper-like plastic we needed to wear to slide down the mountain. Not up. Confused, we asked why we were going to the top. We were so close. Our group hadn´t returned from the top yet. When we signed up for the walk, we were told we´d return around 6 or 6:30, and it was barely 3. What was the rush? We though Pablo had agreed to take us to the top. Apparently, there was a big mixup though because Pablo was definitely not taking us to the peak. Sigh. Totally beaten down by now but still very proud Steph proved the guides wrong by getting as far as she did, we accepted our fate and put on the Pampers. Steph had been dreading the descent the most because you spend 80% of the time sliding down the same mountain it took 5 hours to climb at a very speedy pace on your butt. I was frightened, but excited to
no longer have to climb. Although climbing on snow was easier for me than some of our tropical treks uphill, and I found the altitude made breathing easier for me, the walk was one of the hardest things I´ve had to do.
The ride down turned out to be the best part, and Steph and I bonded with our group members (who agreed the guides were punks) each step of the way. Parts of the descent seemed like they belonged in another world- the deep, creepy lava-ish gravel, the spooky fog, the vast untouched snow. It was a hoot, and I enjoyed using our ice pick as a braking mechanism instead of a life tool to cling to the extremely windy volcano. We changed out of our gear, Steph thanked Ponytail for letting her rule her own body, we said goodbye to the two guides we kind of liked, and we split. Later we met up with two of our friends from the group and bonded about the experience over dinner. We felt a bit better when they showed us their photos of the top, and we realized they didn´t actually see lava... just the gases rising off the
Steph Makes It to the Top of a Volcano
Thank you, Santiago, for making our dreams come true. lava in the huge crater. Oh, and before going to dinner, we ducked into Krater, our favorite bar, and were immediately recognized by the bartender we´d named Novio Uno. Flattered that we were remembered after three or four nights of our visit, we snuck out yet again because the bar was dead. A few minutes later, while walking to dinner with our trekking friends, a guy ran up to us.
Him: ¡Hola!
Us: Uh, hi.
Him: ¡Soy cantante!
Me: Oh, Jorge! Steph, it´s Jorge, the singer!
Us: ¡Hola! Etc.
Him: (in Spanish) Why did you leave without singing with me the other night? Etc.
Basically, Steph and I are Púcon celebs, and we love conquering small towns.
It was a stressful day, but completely worth it. However, if you ever are lucky enough to go to Pucón, please do not book a volcano trek with Sierra Nevada. Join the boycott. Spend an extra ten bucks or so and go with one of the many supportive companies we watched walk by on the volcano. Thank you.
Steph and I spent her last day in Santiago, waiting for Kate to arrive. We checked out the bohemian neighborhood and the
ritzy neighborhood. There´s a lot of life in this city, millions of markets and street performers, and a beautiful park that runs along a decent portion of it.
Steph´s visit was a success, it´s great to see Kate again, and I will post photos from my week without Kate once Steph returns to New York and posts them somewhere for me.
Kate's Journey My brother Jonathan is difficult. Instead of purchasing a ticket to his final destination he thought it would be better to find his own means of transportation from Lima to Santiago thinking that he would arrive before we got to Santiago. I ran around the airport looking for him and asking the staff to page him. My efforts proved fruitless once I arrived at the hostel and saw an email saying that he was still in Peru and hopefully would arrive in Santiago the next day. Grand. Woke up the next day and got another email from him around noon saying that he was going to arrive the next morning because the flights were too expensive and sold out for that day. So that night we had a party with the Swedes that involved a
lot of wine, politics, and haterade on the Catholic church and America from them and the most self-involved and obnoxious American to date. I really hate Adam from Cincinnati who now lives in San Francisco. If anyone sees him please give him a hard, swift kick in the ass for me. Steph had to go to bed because he irked her so bad. Thankfully he went to bed around two and we got to hang with the Swedes till 5:30. We are hard core.
Waking up in the morning the next day wasn't what I would call a pleasant experience. I missed a bunch of calls from Jonathan and when I finally checked my email I learned that he had missed his flight and wouldn't be here until the afternoon. Again, he is difficult. To be trying to get to the same place for more than 3 days and not getting there requires some sort of talent. What that is I don't know. After a quick hug goodbye from Moria and Steph, I became the luckiest girl in the world as I was being escorted all over town with two gorgeous Swedes. You know how I love the Scandanavians.
John and Valparaiso
John is an Aries who manages to find beauty in everything. He's looking for a girl who likes to travel and has a good fashion sense. For inquiries, please contact us at this site. It was grand. My excitement to have them all to myself was shortlived after a visit to Santiago's central post office. Who knew trying to mail a package from Chile when you don't know Spanish would take nearly 2 hours? I didn't realize that sending a bottle of wine would be such a hassle. But it was a nightmare. I was so antsy after the first 45 minutes that I wanted to curse out the lady behind the counter like a New York cabdriver. Since I am a lady that didn't happened. My head nearly exploded three times, but I got the package sent in the end and kept the wine. I don't know if I will ever go to a post office in Chile again. I may have nightmares about this for the rest of my life. The Swedes and I moved to the seafood market because everyone had talked about how delicious it was. We didn't have that experience. That is all I will say about it because it makes me too upset.
Then I waited at the hostel for Jonathan to arrive. Didn't really think it was going to happen, but at six o'clock he strolled
in to my surprise and delight. Robin and John were excited to have another boy in the mix and Jonathan told us stories about his journey here, which provided them with much amusement and me with much chagrin. Jonathan speaks Spanish beautifully. When we went to get bus tickets he really wowed me. I was a cynic but he sure proved me wrong and was able to ask any question I needed him to and more importantly he understood the answers. On our way back to the hostel we didn't realize that we walked straight through a street performer's show. Of course he grabbed me. Then he proceeded to touch me all over and made me touch him all over and at the end asked for a kiss on the cheek which I stupidly agreed to and turned his head so it was a kiss on the lips. It sounds a bit more dirty than it actually was but I still didn't enjoy it. And for the rest of the day I had his white greasepaint all around my mouth. Jonathan and John were in stitches but did nothing to rescue me. Thanks.
Then we grabbed some Chilean hot
dogs (hot dog with tomatoes, avovado and mayo-sounds gross but is good and cheap) and beers and had a nice time chatting. The Swedes were laughing at me for being snippy with my brother and his vulgarity. That's what sisters are for though. They called me uptight. I took myself to bed because i was exhausted from the party the night before. John followed shortly after and Jonathan and Robin were the party animals and went to the happening nightspot of Bellavista.
When John and I got up in the morning to head to Valparaiso we realized the other two never came back. We decided to leave without them and as we were headed out the door the two came in drunk as skunks. Again, I was annoyed with my brother. We grabbed a taxi and some breakfast and boarded the bus. John and I let the two boozehounds sit together since they smelled like McSorley's at closing time. Once the bus started moving Robin took himself to the bathroom. He claims that it was to be by himself aka barf up all the booze I had last night so that I won't feel so ill on this bus
ride. Jonathan had a different approach and passed out within two minutes, drooled all over his shirt and had to be slapped by the conductor to get his ticket (which didn't work). The best part came at the end when Robin, John and I got off the bus and left Jonathan on it because he still passed out. The bus pulled away and the conductor realized he was still on the bus so he smacked him around and finally he awoke.
Once we were in Valparaiso Robin and Jonathan retold us all the stories they told us prior to boarding the bus. They also begged us to let them sleep on the beach. John and I were strong and said no. Then we headed up the hills. Within half an hour a police vehicle drove by us and told us that we were in a dangerous area and that we should get in. It was amazing. We got to ride in the back of a moving interrogation room and saw beautiful vistas of the city. I must say, Valparaiso's hills are gorgeous, the city center is not. Then they dropped us off at Pablo Neruda's house. I love Neruda
and was so excited to see his house because it is his lovesong to Valparaiso. He was definitely a man that was not afraid of color and clutter. That really surprised me since his poems (or atleast their English translations) are so simple. But it was really interesting and provided a good look into how he lived. We had empanadas, went to an antique market that was really people getting rid of their outdated items, and went to the grossest city beach ever. Jonathan and Robin passed out and got really sunburnt and John and I made a journal. Then we tried Valparaiso's seafood market. Much better than Santiago's but still not the best. Boarded our bus back to Santiago. Then I had a terribly sad farewell with the Swedes. John I will miss you. Robin behave yourself. Afterwards Jonathan and I headed to Pucon to go hiking. The bus ride was a breeze.
Upon arrival in Pucon we got a camping stove and supplies and headed to the Huerquehue National Park. Once there it was a 2 km hike to our campsite. Jonathan pitched the tent while I showered. He also went on a hike while I napped
because, as usual, i was having stomach issues. When he got back we had some burgers and slept under the very starry sky of southern Chile. Next morning, I was feeling better so we went hiking throughout the park. It had pretty amazing views of the Volcano that Moria and Steph climbed. We hiked for about 7 hours and saw lots of lakes and vistas and valleys and mountains and cows. It was a really beautiful little park. Around 6 I got concerned about where we were in the park and when the sun was setting. I expressed my concerns to Jonathan. He told me to go back and he would meet up with me since he is super-Grand-Canyon-hiker. So I did. Once I arrived at my first crossroads without a sign, map or language skills I began to freak out a little. I am having visions of myself having to spend the night cuddled up with a bear for warmth forraging for berries and nuts. I grabbed my composure and headed in the direction I saw fit since Jonathan wasn't responding to my desperate cries for help. The crossroads situation happened about 4 more times but I did eventually
meet up with my brother. He didn't even say sorry. When we got back to camp we had dinner and watched the lava from the volcano light up the sky. It was pretty crazy. Every so often flashes of red-orange would light up the sky. An amazing sight to be seen.
Next day we got up, packed up camp, hiked to the entrance, stored our stuff and went for a swim. I went in my tank top and underwear because no one was there and I didn't think it would be a big deal. When I went to the bathroom to change a group of 20 people had arrived and got to see me in my underwear. Bear in mind I only have 5 pairs and have been traveling for five months. I was terribly embarrassed. I got out of there as quickly as possible. Had a lovely lunch on the lakeshore and then boarded a bus back to Pucon. While we waited for our bus back to Santiago we had some delicious hot chocolate, struedel, wine and pizza - in that order. I learned some Spanish to protect myself from the over-aggressive Latin men. Then we went back
John and I seesaw
Ladies, he is a catch. If you need his digits, let me know. up to Santiago so Jonathan could be reunited with his girlfriend for Valentine's day.
I chilled in the hostel while he picked her up. Then we all grabbed some lunch and chatted. Lauren is very nice. She is 23 from California and is uber crafty. Once lunch was finished and I had heard enough of "baby" I decided to let them have a nice Valentine's day while I caught up on my sleep. I am very tired now. Don't know why. The rest was beautiful. Once they got back we had dinner and I ran to the bus station so I could catch my bus to Mendoza, Argentina. The bus ride was weird because it was an overnight bus with a border crossing. Just as I got into a deep sleep I had to get off the bus and go through migration. I got in without any problems.
I arrived in Mendoza at 5:45, checked into my hostel, slept some more (this seems to be a theme) and got up at 11 to see the town. Mendoza is Argentina's wine region so I signed up for a tour. I made friends with two gentlemen from London, Dominic and
Tom and we tasted a bunch of Malbec, as that is the region's specialty. I now know that I do not like Malbec. Too many tannens for me. Very bitter. I did find a delicious Muscat though. Dominic and Tom told be all about Bolivia and Peru. I am very excited for La Paz's witch's market and Copacabana. At the end of the tour we hit an olive oil factory. The people who set up the tour should have known that having the olive oil part after a day of tasting wine would be a bad idea. I was loopy and tired from all of the wine. Slept on the bus on the way back. Had a nap when I got back to the hostel. Grabbed some dinner with the guys and then I got sick some more. I think I am going to be ill for the rest of the trip. I didn't get to go dancing until 6 am because of it. That is the worst part, missing out on the fun.
Jonathan and Lauren turned up at my hostel in the morning after a very arduous minibus ride through the Andes with no sleep and a
Volcano from Huerquehue
If you look close, you can see it. crying baby. We moved to the hotel and Lauren passed out. Jonathan and I strolled through the city, took care of some errands and scheduled a Spanish class for Lauren and I the next day. Then we collected her and headed out for an Asado. We went to La Florencia. If you are in Mendoza eat there. They had beautiful chimichurri, empanadas and the steak was like butter. Seriously, I used my butter knife to cut it. Mmmmm. It was so good. I love the asado. Nothing flashy just the beef. So good. Once we got the bill after waiting 45 minutes, we went to the festival in town for the wine princesses of Mendoza. They were gorgeous. We also got to try a bunch of wine and see some Argentinian dances. It was great. I loved the Argentinian beauty pageant contestants because they had it all: dress, cape, sceptor and tiara. Class all the way. All in all a terrific day and night.
Had a nice breakfast in preparation for my big day of learning. Maru Gil was my teacher and I love her. She was terrific and patient and knowledgeable and made me feel much more comfortable
Huerquehue National Park
If you look close, you can see it. with my Spanish skills. Later that day I bought water by myself, I asked how much postcards were and I tried to get directions for the purchase of stamps. I was good with everything except understanding the directions. That was hard. Jonathan and I had a nice lunch together before we had to go to the bus station so they could get up to Salta. He also got me some yummy facturas. Bidding farewell was sad but I know they have to get up to Lima in record time so I don't spite them. I loved that Jonathan came, it really meant a lot to me.
Boarded a bus in the morning for Santiago prepared with my Spanish to not get confused during the ride. For the most part I was fine. Just enjoying the view of the Andes. The Andes are by far the most beautiful mountain range I have ever seen in my life. It was like seeing the Rocky mountains and the painted desert all at once. Truly breathtaking. Also, while I was staring at them I thought about the Uraguayan rugby team that got stuck in the Andes and had to become cannibals to survive.
If someone can explain to me why they didn't just try to hike down the mountain I would appreciate that knowledge. The boarder crossing was very long and taxing but they let me back into Chile. Again, the Andes were beautiful. I really love them. Every time I looked somewhere else I thought that was the most beautiful part. I am going to make a huge statement now and say that driving through the Andes will most likely be the most beautiful drive of my life.
Back in Santiago. Steph left this morning and now it is back to Moria and I. We are headed up to the Atacama desert tomorrow and will do some sandboarding up there. Then, fingers crossed, we will take a Spanish immersion course in Salta, Argentina before going to Bolivia and Peru. I hope this finds you well and can't wait to hear your feedback. And before you say anything, yes I only have three outfits.
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Dave M.
non-member comment
you're back
I was beginning to wonder if we'd hear from y'all again. Nice to get an update.