As I perused the innumerable vegetable, fruit, meat, and seafood stands of the monstrous La Vega Market (the size of a city block), there were several sights and sounds I was taking in. The vendors packing up and sweeping the floors, the savory dishes being served in the food stands, the dogs running free trying to find the next freebie. There were also a few things I was thinking. The first was "Where is this fabled fresh salmon for $10 a kilo?" The second was, "I'm going to miss this place." By 'place', I didn't necessarily mean La Vega (I will miss La Vega, though), but rather Chile.
To me, La Vega just oozes Chilean culture like not many other places in Santiago can. Vendors and their regulars chatting about the latest futbol match or political scandal, while Cumbia blasts from behind the stand. Old men and women sitting in groups (separated by gender, of course) chatting and playing cards. The young couples, attached at the hip, casually strolling up and down the aisles seemingly looking for nothing at all. The last Saturday I was in Chile, I ate at the food stands in La Vega, and a rag tag marching band just came right through the area playing boozy tunes. What an excellent way to go out!
It's moments like this these past few weeks that have made me realize how much I'll miss Chile. I've had a great year here with great friends. Some highlights include visiting the small beach town of Pichilemu, going to Lollapalooza music festival, seeing that masterful churango player at El Persuigidor Jazz Club, ALL of the Cumbia concerts I attended, traveling and camping in the South for my summer vacation, seeing Torres del Paine, skiing in the Andes, my weekend in Valparaiso, New Year's Eve in Valparaiso, and having two of my best friends from university visit me. Of course, there were plenty more.
Recently, I've been thinking about the ways in which the general personality of the Chilean people vibes and does not vibe with my own personality. Just a couple thoughts here:
One main way in which we vibe: Most Chileans I have had any sort of contact with have been very shy at first. This includes my students, friends, acquaintances, etc. As Chileans will tell you, and a theory that I condone, is that the geographical isolation has made them more reserved. With the Andes in the East, the Pacific Ocean in the West, the desert in the North, and eternal rain in the South. However, this shyness isn't just for foreigners; it also extends to their fellow Chileans! I've never been at a party where two Chileans who didn't previously know each other immediately strike up conversation after introducing themselves (while the opposite seems to be a rather common occurrence with the Argentinians and Brazilians I have met). It usually takes a few drinks before Chileans loosen up to be that social!
One main way in which we don't vibe: It's all culturally relative, but I thought that Santiaguinos (people of Santiago) were very unconscientious in some ways. On a superficial level, people would often stand in the middle of the sidewalk or sit in the middle of the stairs on a busy stairwell despite their very obviously being an obstacle to everyone else. Another example is when someone drops something and doesn't realize that they have dropped it, no one else around will inform them they have done so. Ultimately, I think that this is more of a symptom of being in a big city and the lack of community that inevitably goes along with that. Because on the flip side of this, Chileans are incredibly close with their families and I think most would do anything for their families. Nonetheless, this was probably the most frustrating day-to-day experience I had with the Chilean demeanor.
The lists go on, but I can happily say the things I miss and the things I vibed with concerning Chile greatly outnumber the things I will not miss and the things I didn't vibe with.
Hilariously, I have noticed small things that changed in my daily habits after spending a year in Chile. For example, I put more butter, salt, and mayonnaise on food than I ever used to before (which used to be practically none at all). I couldn't say specifically what deeper ways Chile has changed me this soon after leaving Chile, but what I do know is that living in a different culture invariably deepens your worldview and the way in which you see yourself in the world.
Chi-chi-chi, le-le-le. Viva Chile!
Monday, June 11, 2012
Thursday, June 7, 2012
Mi Despedida
For my last week in Chile, I was not planning on doing too much except for seeing friends, doing a lot of partying, and going on a lot of wine tours. I had already seen most all of the landmarks in Santiago, so I wasn't concerned with seeing them again (many I had seen more than a handful of times over the course of a year). For a variety of reasons, I was only able to schedule in two wine tours. Some wineries only did group tours, one winery was randomly not doing a tour the day we tried to go, and others simply never responded to my tour requests. Nothing too special about the wine tours I did go on, although one of the wineries was located at the base of a mountain on the east side of Santiago. One particularly interesting fact was that since the winery was built on a slope, the grapes grown at the bottom of the slope have a slightly different flavor than the ones at the top. This is because the ones grown at the top experience slightly cooler temperatures. It would probably only be possible for a sommelier to taste the difference, but it was an interesting fact to learn nonetheless.
During the week I went out with my friends, but it was the big bang I was going out with that I was really looking forward to. I organized my despedida (going-away party) to begin at my favorite bar in Santiago...and in Chile, really. The notorious La Piojera. I've written about it multiple times in past entries, but it bears a re-description. This riotous, rough-and-tumble establishment is something like 90 years old and has been saved from developers by its loyal clientele (according to Lonely Planet guide books). During the day, the place has a solid group of older regulars, but after the sun goes down, out come the young Chileans of all types: college kids, business professionals, and troublemakers. Also, there are good amounts of foreigners. There are some things I have come to expect when I go to La Piojera: there will be one or more individuals that are waaaay too drunk, there will be at least one fight and/or at least one person will get kicked out, and the bar area will stink like stale piss. As luck, or rather unbridled regularity, would have it, all three things previously mentioned occurred.
There were tons of people at La Piojera on that Friday night my group had to crowd around towards the entrance. After struggling to get drinks because some rookie was working behind the bar, we went to another one of my favorite places, La Fonda Permanente (The Permanent Block Party). Another dirty dive club with cheap drinks and great live music. Over the course of the last year, I had many nights out that, in the swirly, smoky haze of Santiago nightlife, have some how ended up at La Fonda Permanente. La Fonda is guaranteed to have great Cumbia music every weekend, and this night was no exception. Hilariously, and typical to Chilean nightlife, we arrived at midnight and absolutely no one was there. But by the time the band started playing (1:30...2:00 a.m...? Who knows?) the place was all but packed. We danced until the band was done playing, and then we went to a karaoke bar and did awful renditions of good songs until about 5 a.m. Highlights being my friend Adam getting up on stage to cooly perform a number of gangsta rap songs from the 90s. Another being when my friend Belen and I performed "Kiss" by Prince. As intoxicated as I may have been, I was definitely conscious enough to realize how awful we sounded. That's what you get when you do karaoke and only know the chorus of a song (doh!). After a long night of friends, booze, dancing, music, karaoke, and goodbyes, it was finally time to head home. I said my last goodbyes with tearful hugs with the last people standing (Belen and Emilie) and hopped into my last late night taxi in Santiago.
Friday, June 1, 2012
En Patagonia
Sometime toward the end of this crazy adventure, I made the decision that I would not leave the region without having done at least one of two things: visit Machu Picchu or visit Patagonia. Patagonia quickly became the likely candidate while considering the state of my finances. Unfortunately, it also meant that I was invariably going to be visiting toward the beginning of winter. If Patagonia is known for anything, it's the inhospitable climate that people have inexplicably endured for many, many years. Every website and forum I looked through mentioned the freight train wind, the deluges of rain, and the piles of snow. In fact, I was fairly anxious prior to my trip due not only to my typical pre-trip jitters, but also to the images of the apocalyptic weather I thought I was going to have to suffer through.
I had a conversation with my friend, Boris, a couple months before I left for Patagonia. He had just returned from Patagonia and I asked, "Will I be able to camp and hike when I go at the end of May?" He replied, "If you want to die!" Then he started laughing maniacally. "Well," I said to myself, "I guess that's not an option."
Luckily, it didn't turn out nearly as bad as I thought it would. However, the first two days I was there it did not stop raining. I flew into Punta Arenas early in the morning and soon fell asleep after arriving at my hostel. The first day I spent exploring the city with my umbrella in hand. From the multitude of restaurants and bars, I was able to get a sense of how bustling the city must be during high season between November and March. Since it was raining and low season, though, the city was practically a ghost town. I stepped into one of the only local restaurants that looked open on that rainy Sunday and had my favorite Chilean dish (cazuela) along with a beer.
Afterwards, I walked along the coast and looked towards the ocean. It was hard to believe how "close" I was to Antarctica. It did feel like the end of the world...in a way.
The next day, I took a bus to Puerto Natales which is farther north. My hostel was practically empty except for one other visitor and the owner. The next day there was drizzle and I walked around the town and along the coast. The next day it snowed all day long. Finally realizing there is not much to do in Puerto Natales itself, I scheduled myself in for a day-long tour for Torres del Paine National Park. Torres del Paine is the sine qua non of Patagonia. It's a gigantic national park and without a doubt one of the biggest tourist draws in South America. Any descriptions would not do it justice so I'll let the pictures speak for themselves (above). The snow made everything seem so serene and majestic, but I would have really liked to have been able to camp and hike there.
The day after I returned to Punta Arenas and decided to take a ferry across the strait to Tierra del Fuego (Land of Fire). Unfortunately, because of the ferry schedule, I only had a little time to spend in Porvenir, a little town on the coast of Tierra Del Fuego. The wind was bitingly cold - even colder than Punta Arenas for God knows what reason. I could tell why they call it the land of fire from looking at the outlying land of the city. It looked like all the hills had been scorched by fire. Very desolate in a beautiful kind of way (which is also an apt description for much of what I saw of Patagonia.)
Afterwards, I spent one more night in Punta Arenas and the next morning took my flight back to Santiago. As a result of the weather and it being low season, I don't think I got the full Patagonian experience, but I am sure glad I went. Torres del Paine was the worth the entire trip.
Sunday, May 20, 2012
Bazucas de Leche
Before I do that, though, I am going to be traveling to Punta Arenas and Puerto Natales within the larger Patagonia region of Southern Chile. And before that, I am going to write this post.
A few weeks ago I went to visit my friend, Rodrigo, in La Serena. Rodrigo had moved there as a result of transferring schools. La Serena is about six hours north of Santiago by bus and is mostly known as a summer beach resort. However, La Serena is also fairly well-known for its "neocolonial architecture", having preserved many old buildings (and especially churches). Additionally, for any new buildings built in the city center, they have to follow strict guidelines so as to keep with the neocolonial style. Unfortunately, I forgot to take my camera when we went strolling around the city center.
We had originally planned on getting a group of four or five of us to come up to La Serena. However, it ended up being only me and our friend, Emilie. Rodrigo is living with his grandmother, and that is also where we stayed. His grandmother was hilarious, if not a bit senile. Within five minutes, she asked me twice if I had been to La Serena before, and then later asked Rodrigo the same question about me. His grandmother also constantly harassed him to do chores and things. Hilariously, she always made the requests from another part of the house:
(in Spanish, from the other end of the house)
"Grandson, can you do the dishes?"
"Yes, Alicia!"
"Rodrigo, I need you to get some things at the store!"
"Yes, Alicia. OK!"
There were time when we couldn't exactly hear what she was saying, but even so, Rodrigo still replied "OK, Alicia!"
After wandering around the city square, Emilie and I met Rodrigo at the basketball courts of his school. Rodrigo's classmates are all 17 or 18 while he is 22. They really look up to him, which I found really funny. While his classmates were playing a pick up game of soccer, we were drinking on the bleachers and chatting. Felt like high school all over again! We ended up going out with a few of his friends.
The next day we went to the beach and just relaxed the rest of the evening. Although it was a relatively uneventful weekend, it was a nice, laid back time.
At the beginning of this month my best friend from university, Ry, came to visit me. On our first day we went to the biggest soccer match of the year. The match is between Universidad de Chile and Colo Colo. The two best and most popular soccer clubs in Chile. However, this isn't any old soccer game. Universidad de Chile represents the middle and upper crests of society, while Colo Colo represents the lower part(s). I don't really know enough about the history of these two teams to know how that symbolic association came about, but it apparent everywhere. When I go to the poorer parts of the city, there are tons of people wearing Colo Colo jerseys just as there are people wearing Universidad de Chile jerseys around my area.
Our tickets had us sitting in the galeria, which is where the fanatic fans are. When we got into the stadium, however, the attendants that were helping to sit people some weary of directing us to our assigned section. They said something about how it's on the complete other side of the stadium (they made it seem like it was miles away) and that there were a few open seats right in front of us. I think they were just worried for our safety because we were foreigners. BUT, the great thing is they seated us in the most expensive section in the entire stadium. So we had seats with chairs and also shade over our heads.
As expected, the fans hurled profanities without heed. When Universidad de Chile scored, many fans in our section would stand up and yell and make obscene gestures at the Colo Colo fans in the other section. In fact, there was a high metal fence separating the sections...and on top of the fence were sharp spikes. I guess it is a pretty serious game!
At one point, Colo Colo fans were literally pulling out their chairs and throwing them on the track that surrounds the field. I was a little worried that were going to have trouble leaving after the game, but I didn't even see any fights or anything. Universidad de Chile won 5-0, which is a record score for them in their match history with Colo Colo.
I took Ry to most of the standard tourist sites: San Cristobal hill, Santa Lucia hill, the Bellas Artes Modern Art Museum, Mercado Central, La Piojera...but also some less well-known areas as well. We went hiking in an area I have been to a couple of times. A nice area just outside of the city called Aguas de San Ramon. We also went to this restaurant called El Hoyo (The Hole). I was actually a bit nervous because El Hoyo is in kind of a bad part of town and were going at night. There weren't a whole lot of street lights, so we were definitely quick on our feet getting to the restaurant. The restaurant specializes in pork. We shared a huge pork leg (pernil) as well as pork pieces cooked in a ring of fat (arrollado). Plus, we had a pitcher of terremotos (strong alcoholic drink). I can't even describe how huge the pork leg was (we didn't bring the camera unfortunately), but we did have leftovers for sandwiches. Then I made a broth with the bones!
Ry and I also made a short trip to Valparaiso and Vina del Mar. We spent the entire day enjoying the beaches in Vina del Mar and all of the colorful houses and hills of Valparaiso. Unfortunately, this was around the time that we were both sick, so we basically had dinner and a few drinks and then called it quits. On Ry's last night, we went out with my friend Boris, to the politically left-leaning bar called The Clinic. The are pricy, but the place itself has a lot of character. The owner of the restaurant is also in charge of a political satire publication also called The Clinic. After dinner, the three of us met our friends Mark and Leslie, and we went for a little bit before I started to feel really sick.
Overall, it was a great week with Ry, but the fact that we both were sick did put a damper on things.
Friday, April 13, 2012
Que Pasa?
Since my travels ended at the end of February, there has been some other happenings.
Firstly, I had a St. Patrick's Day party over here. People came over here a little later than I had planned, but there was plenty of BBQ (my roommate had just bought a grill) and booze. I also made a play list with a bunch of Irish folk songs. It was a great time, and after most people left, I went to go dance Cumbia with a few friends at one of my favorite clubs, La Fonda Permanente. The next day around 12:30 p.m., I got three consecutive calls from my roommate. I finally woke up and answered despite my excruciating hangover. He said there were some problems. The sink in the kitchen had overflown (not sure how that happened), and the neighbors downstairs were angry that a bunch of beer cans and cigarette butts were in their yard. Of course, as soon as I got off the phone I heard a knock at our door and sure enough, it was our neighbors. The man was clearly not happy and asked if I threw a party last night, I said "Yes." Then he mentioned the mess in his yard. I tried to assure him that I didn't see anyone throwing anything over our balcony to his yard (which was true) and that the wind often takes empty beer cans and cigarette butts that are laid at the edge (also true). However, I couldn't remember the word for "wind" so I made snake-like movements with my arms and made a whistling sound with my mouth. The man looked at me like I was crazy. I apologized for not being able to speak better Spanish. Anyway, I grabbed some empty plastic bags and headed downstairs where his wife was waiting, similarly unhappy. I picked up everything I could and when I came back through their door, I assured the woman that it was accident to which she was incredulous. She practically scolded me and said, "Es una mala costumbre" (It's a bad habit) and "Se falta su educacion" (You lack a good upbringing). Not feeling the greatest, I took it all in the stride. Then I cleaned up my own mess in our apartment. Fun Saturday, not a fun Sunday.
I went to Lollapalooza a couple of weeks ago. This is a festival that started in the mid-90s in the USA. They are known for having a lot of mainstream alternative rock bands. Initially, it was a touring festival, but in more recent years they have elected to just make it a one-off festival in Chicago. Last year, the first Lollapalooza outside of the USA was in Santiago, Chile. Fortunately for me, due to the success of last year's event, they decided to have it again this year!
Around half the bands playing were Chilean while the other half were from United States or UK. I don't mean to come off as ethno-centric, but since I had at least heard of almost all of the US and UK acts, those are the bands that I saw.
On the first day, I went with my friends Andrew, Sina, Franny, and Luke. We met at Andrew and Sina's house (they live with several other people in a very cool Victorian era house literally next door to the location of the festival) and had a couple of beers. Then we trekked to the festival. Surprisingly, the festival was dry (except for the VIP section)! I couldn't believe it! Good for my pocketbook, bad for my thirst. Anyway, we briefly met up with our other friends, Rodrigo, Boris, Mark, and Mark, but quickly lost them when we decided we wanted to see different performances.
I won't go into describing the individual performances of the various bands that I saw, but surely the highlight of Saturday was when Franny and Sina accidentally walked into the VIP section. It was only after they walked in unobstructed did they realize that they were actually inside. They decided to have some free beer and free food. Later on, Luke, Andrew, and I nonchalantly walked in as well (like we owned the place) and the five of us gorged ourselves on free food, Jack & Cokes, and beer.
My favorite act of the weekend was by far the Icelandic vocalist, Bjork. Despite there being thousands of people in attendance for the headliner on Saturday night (Bjork), everyone was practically silent. Well, except my friend Andrew. While enjoying some of Bjork's more minimalist and tranquil material, Andrew was drunkenly yelling/talking in my ear, "I don't know, man. Bjork's just not my thing. It's like what Larry David said, 'Why do I have to like pesto just because everyone likes pesto?' Bjork is my pesto!" I repeatedly told him to shut up, but to no avail.
The next day of the festival, we met up with the whole gang (as seen in the pictures). This included me, Andrew L (from before), Sina, Franny, Luke, Belen, Emily, Boris, Rodrigo, Mark, Leslie, and Andrew C. Unfortunately, this crew didn't last long either, but thus is the way of the music festival! In any case, the music was even better on Sunday and I had a wonderful time.
More recently, I went to Valparaiso last weekend. I haven't had a chance to go back since the New Year's Celebration and see the sites. After none of my friends seemed keen on the idea, I took up the banner myself, and rode to Valparaiso with pride and glory (in my bus). I stayed at a hostel called Casa Valparaiso, which was excellent! I mostly walked around to all of their famous hills. I also went to the Naval Museum and La Sebastiana (the Valparaiso house of Pablo Neruda). I wanted to go to their modern art museum, but I guess it was STILL closed for renovation. La Sebastiana was definitely the highlight. I have visited his house in Santiago as well, La Chascona, which I think I wrote about in a previous entry. Neruda was a very interesting and complex individual, as well as a Nobel Prize-winning poet.
Some highlights from the tour:
- Pablo Neruda loved social gatherings and would often host parties at his house. At these parties he would wear disguises and would change disguises throughout the night.
- He had a real knack for naming things. For example, his comfortable leather chair that overlooked the sea was called "Cloud" and he would often reference in letters when he was abroad. Specifically, how much he missed sitting in it.
- Neruda's houses are filled with tons of paintings, antiques, and other souvenirs. Each has its own story. For example, there is a painting of a woman from 17th century hanging on one of the walls. On the opposite wall is a painting of a man from around the same period. He initially bought the former, but then bought the latter so the woman wouldn't feel lonely.
I need to make a point to read more of his work!
Another highlight from walking around in Valparaiso was the star-filled and full-mooned view from one of the hills. I love looking at the stars. I also love looking at city lights from a high vantage point. It never makes me feel "small" as someone people say they feel. Rather, it always gives me an undeniable sense of wonder. I think to myself, "Where is life going to take me next?" Slightly trite, I know, but it's the truth!
I also thought about how moments like this are often deemed romantic, and I started thinking why that may be. I thought that a lot of it might have to do with the way in which romantic movies and T.V. shows have constructed a hyper-real narrative dictating to us what "romance" and "relationships" should be.
I also thought that maybe it's just the fact that you're with someone else is that you're sharing in a mutual sort of "wonder" about life and all it has to give and offer.
My cynical self would probably choose the former, but another part of me says it's probably a combination of the two. In any case, most people would probably say I think too much about everything.
In my hostel, I met a few German girls (including a girl who works there*), a New Zealand girl, and an Argentinian guy. The group of us went out together both nights. In actuality, the second night included everyone else from our hostel (probably at least 20 people). Unfortunately, that group consisted of some very stuffy and obnoxious English guys. Now, I know that I harsh judge of character when I first meet people, but my judgements were soon confirmed by the German girls and the Argentinian guy who didn't have many good things to say about them. Thankfully, we didn't have to deal with them as we got separated when we arrived at the monstrous club named El Huevo ("The Egg"). It has five stories plus a rooftop patio. Each story has a different style of music being played: Salsa and Cumbia, 80s, Rock, etc. Drinks were cheap, and clients were happy. Apparently, my group LOVED my dancing, so I danced until almost 5:00 a.m. both nights.
Lastly, one of my good friends, Jeff, left Santiago this last Tuesday. We went out for his "despedida" (going away party) on Tuesday to my favorite Chilean dive bar: La Piojera. In Jeff's case, I think he got sick of all the financial instability that comes with being an English teacher here (students canceling class, privates being flaky, etc.)
*The German girl who worked the hostel was very sweet. She was all but 19 years old, but had the maturity level of someone much older. The fact that she was about 6'2" certainly helped the assumption that she was older. She was on her "off year" which a lot of Europeans do: basically you take a year off between high school and college to go work and travel abroad. Not everyone can afford it, of course, but I feel as though it allows one to experience what living on one's own is like before arriving to the madness of university life. Also, you get valuable insight into another culture, and thus expand your world view. Furthermore, it allows you to take a fresh breath before you decide what to do for the rest of your life (i.e. choosing an area of study). I wish this was common practice in the US, because even if the youngsters of the middle-class and high class are the only ones who could afford it, at least it would broaden their horizons a bit.
Tuesday, April 3, 2012
Vacaciones en Verano: Isla de Chiloe
My last stop on my vacation was Isla de Chiloe. This little island just off the coast of Chile purportedly has some mythical qualities to it. Adding to this characteristic is the expansive folklore surrounding it's history. Of these mythological stories and creatures, my favorite is the story of Trauco. He is an evil forest gnome with great powers that allow him to easily seduce versions. Thus, in older days, Trauco was often blamed if young, single maids were suddenly found to be pregnant. Of course, there was no man to share the blame in the unwanted pregnancy, because IT WAS TRAUCO!!!
My first stop on Isla de Chiloe was on the northern tip in a town called Ancud. Our bus ferried across the strait and, by happen chance, my hostel was right next door to the bus station. The hostel was called 13 Lunas and it was probably the best hostel I've ever stayed at in terms of cleanliness and the condition of the physical building. I felt like the staff could be a little more friendly, but that place was sure was immaculate.
During my first (and only full day) in Ancud, I simply walked around the coast of the island, visiting an old fortress, went to a museum detailing some of the history of the island, and finally went to gorge on some curanto.
Now, let me tell you about curanto. If there were ever a more meat and potatoes dish, I've never heard of or seen it. Of course, curanto can vary restaurant to restaurant, but what I got at the particular restaurant I went to was three kinds of potatoes, chicken, pork, beef, and about 30-40 shellfish and mussels with a side of broth (which was probably from the same pot they cooked the shellfish and mussels in). I prepared myself by not eating that much all day long, and I ended up eating ALL of it! After living mostly on nuts, raisins, and fruit the previous week and a half, that was some much needed nourishment.
The next morning I took a bus to the very center of Chiloe, Castro, and then I took another bus to Nacional Parque Chiloe (Chiloe National Park). I camped there for three nights. Retrospectively, I really only needed two or so days there as there weren't sufficient enough trails or sites of interest to last more than that. It's well known that it rains all the time on Chiloe, so luckily, it only rained on me a little bit while I was camping. There was some interesting fauna and some great, scenic views, but beyond that, Nacional Parque Chiloe didn't have as much to offer as I would have hoped. They also had some trails that led to their seemingly never-ending beach on the Pacific Ocean side (pictured above).
One other thing I want to mention about my travels is that I had a few "it's a small world after all" experiences. I met a guy from the United States on a bus from Pucon to Valdivia. When I was hiking in the Chiloe National Park, who did I happen to cross paths with? The same guy! We talked for a little while about what we had done since last seeing each other. There were also times where I saw Chileans and foreigners alike in one town, and then saw them in another town. I think most people follow a similar path to the South, so it's not incredibly surprising.
After my time in the Park, I took a bus back to Castro, then a bus back to Puerto Varas, and finally an overnight bus to Santiago. Home again!
Tuesday, March 13, 2012
Vacaciones en Verano: Puerto Varas
Well, this one is going to be short and sweet. I spent a total of two days in Puerto Varas and it rained both days. In fact, as I walked into my hostel, soaked only after a three block walk from the bus station, I asked the German at the front desk what the weather looked like for the next couple of days. He pulled up the 2-week weather forecast and it was nothing but rain. Then, as if to emphasize that fact, he said in a deadpan, heavily accented voice, "Yea, it looks like a lot of raining." "Well, OK, we'll see what happens," I thought.
One thing that is awesome about Chile (among many) is the fact that because it is such a long country running North and South that it has an very wide variety of landscapes. In the North you have desert, the Central has mountains, and in the South you have beautiful, lush forests. Unfortunately for the South, that also means a lot of rain year 'round.
Puerto Varas is similar to Pucon in that it has the small Colorado resort town feel and look to it. Additionally there are several outdoor sports (canyoning, rafting, hiking) you can do when the weather isn't bad.
My first night I met a British couple in their early thirties who are on sabbatical from work and traveling around the world for a year. Pretty cool if you ask me. I didn't even know that the British got sabbaticals from corporate jobs. Lucky bastards!
There was a free concert going in the town center so we went to that. It was a really famous Chilean (well, famous here), but I forgot their name. Not exactly my type of music, but I appreciated their professionalism.
The next day I woke up and it was relatively clear outside, so I decided to take a bus out to Petrohue, a small town about an hour away from Puerto Varas. It is supposed to be a beautiful area...when it's not extremely cloudy. In Petrohue you can hike around Volcano Orsono. Unfortunately for me, once I stepped off of the bus it started drizzling. I decided to muscle through it, and I hiked for about an hour and a half before it starting pouring off and on, so I decided to return and took the bus back. Because of the cloud cover, I couldn't see the volcano, or too far across the beautifully turquoise lake.
Later that evening, I made dinner and spent the remainder of the night chatting up the British couple from the previous night as well as a Dutch couple.
The next day, I was off to Isla de Chiloe!
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