Monday, November 16, 1998

I arrived at the airport in Punta Arenas at 7:00 hoping to take the first flight up to Puerto Montt. Unfortunately, the airport was all but closed at that hour. At around 7:30 a few people arrived and informed me that the first flight out was for 10:00. I read most of the morning.

Thinking ahead once again, I purchased a window seat on the right side of the plane -- perfect for mountain and fjord viewing. Anyone taking a plane in Chile should really give their seat selection a high priority -- sit on the left side of the plane and you look at ocean, on the right the spectacular volcanoes and Andes range...

On arrival in Puerto Montt, I quickly secured a rental car from Avis, the only rental company I will ever use. Why you ask? Well, about six months ago in Costa Rica, I rented a Suzuki Sidekick from them and basically totaled it -- they were extremely generous in their settlement with me, and from then on I decided to only rent from them... American Express helped quite a bit as well, I must say...

Anyway, I decided to just "Go North" and see what I would see. I set off at around noon and was at Lago Llanquiwi in just a few hours. The sillohuette of Volcan Osorno was spectacular against the lake. The roads were quite nice, and most were lined with a beautiful yellow flower called "fireweed" or something like that I could hardly understand in Spanish. Anyway, it was about 100km around the lake and I enjoyed every minute of it. I stopped in a national park for a quick two hour hike and was thrilled with the "catarata" (waterfalls) and natural beauty. Not another tourist was anywhere to be seen but I did end up sharing the road with a wild llama in the picture on the right...

After that, I had to decide what to do next. It was a tough call, but I consulted the map and thought that heading to the extreme north via the Pan-American highway and then working back toward Puerto Montt was the best call. Six hours later, I arrived in Pucon, a keen Argentinian and Chilean resort near Volcan Villarica, a spectacular 3000m active Volcano that dominates the views. I checked into a nice little hospedaje (a family home that rents out rooms) and went for a nice dinner.

Tuesday, November 17, 1998

The next morning, I awoke at 6:00 and headed for the climbing office. A few companies in town organize ascents of the volcano to view the lava spewing, sulphuric, molten interior and snow capped peak. It requires the use of crampons, gas masks, and various other scary devices... But, I was told that it was a real highlight in Chile and besides that I've climbed Kilimanjaro, right? It can't be that bad...

About 23 other tourists clamored inside the office for the supplies. We headed out via van and reached the base of the mountain at around 10. We were all dressed identically in the supplied red and black uniforms, hats, masks, etc. It was to be a grueling 4 hour climb to the top through the snow and ice fields. If they can do it, I can do it...

Unfortunately, there was too much wind. Actually, it was a gale force blast of about 50kph. The guides, quite respectful of our lives, wouldn't let us attempt the climb. We got back to town around noon and I decided that perhaps there were more constructive ways to spend the day -- like sunning and swimming in the lake.

I dressed and went for dinner at around 7. I met two of the guys on the volcano hike, Americans Adam and Andrew, and we had a few beers, played some chess (I was undefeated!) and then headed out for dinner and billards... First impressions are often mistaken, I've learned. Their shaved heads, tattoos, and unshaven faces were not indicative of the type of people I normally enjoy spending time with. But, they were actually quite intelligent, extremely well travelled, and full of insight into the Chilean culture. We became friends -- unlikely as that may seem.

Wednesday, November 18, 1998

I awoke early and headed out for a long day of driving. I decided to skip the Pan American back to Puerto Montt and head down the dirt and gravel roads of the interior instead. It was, overall, a good decision. I saw how the rural farmers live, how the unfrequented lesser lakes look, and had a great time listening to my one and only tape that wasn't stolen a few weeks ago: Queen's Greatest Hits...

Scenes from the Lake District

I put almost 800km on the car in 14 hours of driving. It wasn't at all taxing -- the roads were bad so I had to drive slowly, and the scenery was so incredible that I wanted to take it easy anyway. I only got lost one time when I took an unmarked road 45km deep into nowhere to a dead end down a very bad, extremely bad, road. The Kia I was in almost didn't make it out.

At the last lake, the car had almost had enough and I decided to get back on the Pan American before dark. Several bridges were out along the way, but fortunately there were excellent ferries -- and free, believe it or not! As I turned south on the excellent road, the car sputtered and continued to do so for the next 80km into town. Something had broken, but I'm no mechanic, and it was going just fast enough that I wasn't in real danger of being killed by a big truck.

I limped into town at 9:00 or so, got a room, room, and then settled in for the night totally exhausted.

Thursday, November 19, 1998

I returned the rental car to the airport and complained vigorously about the performance of the Kia. Unfortunately, the Avis representative didn't speak English. I was basically just trying to get out of another insurance debacle (the contract excludes gravel or dirt roads) but I ended up getting about $50 back! Avis, Avis, Viva Avis!

My flight to Santiago left on time, and I arrived at 5:00PM -- just in time for dinner, a quick trip to the internet cafe, the bookstore, and then back to bed early. I'm heading to Quito, Ecuador tomorrow where I'll be arranging a two week cruise and dive trip to the Galapagos Islands!