There is some national law in Chile requiring receipts to be given to the customer for each and every transaction, no matter how small. You try to buy a tiny apple empanada and if you quickly shuffle away the vendor will squak and wave the tiny piece of paper frantically, showing you what you had tried to leave behind.
One of the major lowlights of this trip has been the food. It just is not that good. They don`t do spicy food here, so what are you left with is a lot of bland and not very well done italian food. Pasta, pizza, etc....eating and making my own good food is one of the things I will enjoy most about returning home.
I am amazed what I have done to my shoes in 2 months of traveling and trekking. They were brand new, never worn the day I left and now they have large holes developing in the bunion area, they stink worse than any pair I have ever owned, and they don`t remotely resemble their original silver color.
My facial hair is currently longer right now than it has been at any point in my life. That being said, there is still not that much there. 25 years old and I can`t even get the hair above the lip to connect with the chin. That`s ok though, this is one of those things that traveling allows you to experiment with....I will be clean shaven upon returning home.
The reading materials are starting to get a little thin. One can only read so many bad novels...the book exchanges I have encountered have been particularly bad...for some reason they were much better in SEAsia.
Not only per capita but also just in total numbers, there are far more Israelis traveling here than any other nationality. They are quite literally everywhere you go! They tell me that after the 3 mandatory years in the army, the thing to do is travel and South America is the most popular destination for some reason. This is odd considering that none of them can speak a lick of spanish.
Friday, March 30, 2007
Parque Pumalin
I spent the past two days exploring Parque Pumalin, located only a few miles north of Chaiten. This park was founded by an American named Doug Thompkins, the founder of the North Face and Esprit clothing mega companies. He decided to cash in his savings and start buying up large tracts of land in this area, spurred on by his belief in deep ecology http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Deep_ecology Once the Chilean nationalists discovered what he was doing they began to freak out and claim that Thompkins was a threat to Chile, trying to divide the country, etc. Turns out Thompkins knew what he was doing and the public has for the most part accepted his plan, once they realized that preserving some of their natural resources might actually be a good idea in the big scheme of things. The park gets a lot of pub about being the first private national park in the world, though it is gradually coming under more of the Chilean park services control.
The few trails I walked were quite short, none more than a couple hours but they were quite nice. Being so close to the ocean, the climate is quite different here from further south, creating a temperate rain forest. I walked past some impressive water falls, some over 100 feet in height, and camped at a small lake surrounded on all sides by 500 foot walls completely covered by what my trekking guide describes as luxuriant rain forest. While waiting a few hours for a ride back to Chaiten I witnessed a tiny hummingbird wipping from flower to flower, literally only a few feet above my head.
Today is a nothing day in Chaiten, doing laundry for the first time in forever and just reading and lazing about. I am waiting for the ferry that leaves tomorrow for they town of Quellion, on the island of Chiloe http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Chilo%C3%A9_Island , the 2nd largest island of Chile. I plan on exploring this huge rainforest type island for 4 to 5 days and then I will make my way up to Puerto Montt where I will rendevous with my dad for a couple weeks.
The few trails I walked were quite short, none more than a couple hours but they were quite nice. Being so close to the ocean, the climate is quite different here from further south, creating a temperate rain forest. I walked past some impressive water falls, some over 100 feet in height, and camped at a small lake surrounded on all sides by 500 foot walls completely covered by what my trekking guide describes as luxuriant rain forest. While waiting a few hours for a ride back to Chaiten I witnessed a tiny hummingbird wipping from flower to flower, literally only a few feet above my head.
Today is a nothing day in Chaiten, doing laundry for the first time in forever and just reading and lazing about. I am waiting for the ferry that leaves tomorrow for they town of Quellion, on the island of Chiloe http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Chilo%C3%A9_Island , the 2nd largest island of Chile. I plan on exploring this huge rainforest type island for 4 to 5 days and then I will make my way up to Puerto Montt where I will rendevous with my dad for a couple weeks.
Wednesday, March 28, 2007
hitching, drinking, and dancing
I´ve reached the end of the Carretera Austral, arriving in Chaiten last night to an amazing sunset. Let me give a quick recap of some of my escapades during the past week.
I´ll begin back in Cochrane, where during my last night at the fruit tree filled campground, a well equiped Land Rover pulled in and parked itself only about 30 feet from my tent. The European plates were the first clue that this truck was a long ways from home. The driver was named Guy, a 65 year old retired Physics professor from Lyon, France. His English was passable but he preferred speaking in Spanish, which he had picked up while living for ten years in Spain. I approached him the next morning about a possible ride north and he said sure as long as I could find a spot to stuff my pack in his ¨Flor de Cactus¨ as he had named his vehicle. We spent the next seven hours making our way north, along a particularly scenic stretch of the gravel highway. We stopped frequently for photos, something I would surely have not been able to do had I been on a bus. His vehicle was really tricked out, full of computers, coolers, and just about everything else you would expect a retired physics professor to have ourfitted his Land Rover with. We chatted in Spanish and he made me crack up when his GPS would lose its signal and he would quip: ¨hah!, the US Gov´t does not know where we are!¨ We spent the night in a tiny village 60 miles south of Coyhaique and the next morning we parted ways upon arrival in the big city. You can see some photos of his vehicle (which he also called ¨mi barco de tierra¨) on his photo heavy blog: http://www.espacioblog.com/flor-de-cactus
Upon leaving Coyhaique I was jolted back to reality: hitching is usually not so easy and painless! The day started well enough, two rides each requiring no more than 30 minutes of waiting brought me to Villa Manihuales, 50 miles north by 11 AM. This is where my good karma ran out. I waited for 45 minutes alone before being joined by two Israeli guys also looking for a ride north. Making a long and boring story short, after six and a half hours of waiting I had had enough and the three of us shared a room in the only hospedaje in town, run by a particularly cantankerous old woman. By now we were all feeling pretty fed up with this village and we were fearful there would be no restaurant avaliable as well. This is when the town decided to redeem iteself. We happened upon a hole in the wall, locals only type place, that was more a bar than a restaurant. The music was bumping and smoke clouded the small room. We asked for food and were fed the only thing avaliable, a very Chilean plate of steak topped with two fried eggs and a side of mixed salad. Dinner was followed by several liters of beer which than transformed themselves into dancing with the three local ladies in attendance. Wow could they move those hips!!! It turned out to be a truly amazing cultural experience, an evening I will not soon forget. And oh yes, the next morning we caught the first bus north.
I´ll begin back in Cochrane, where during my last night at the fruit tree filled campground, a well equiped Land Rover pulled in and parked itself only about 30 feet from my tent. The European plates were the first clue that this truck was a long ways from home. The driver was named Guy, a 65 year old retired Physics professor from Lyon, France. His English was passable but he preferred speaking in Spanish, which he had picked up while living for ten years in Spain. I approached him the next morning about a possible ride north and he said sure as long as I could find a spot to stuff my pack in his ¨Flor de Cactus¨ as he had named his vehicle. We spent the next seven hours making our way north, along a particularly scenic stretch of the gravel highway. We stopped frequently for photos, something I would surely have not been able to do had I been on a bus. His vehicle was really tricked out, full of computers, coolers, and just about everything else you would expect a retired physics professor to have ourfitted his Land Rover with. We chatted in Spanish and he made me crack up when his GPS would lose its signal and he would quip: ¨hah!, the US Gov´t does not know where we are!¨ We spent the night in a tiny village 60 miles south of Coyhaique and the next morning we parted ways upon arrival in the big city. You can see some photos of his vehicle (which he also called ¨mi barco de tierra¨) on his photo heavy blog: http://www.espacioblog.com/flor-de-cactus
Upon leaving Coyhaique I was jolted back to reality: hitching is usually not so easy and painless! The day started well enough, two rides each requiring no more than 30 minutes of waiting brought me to Villa Manihuales, 50 miles north by 11 AM. This is where my good karma ran out. I waited for 45 minutes alone before being joined by two Israeli guys also looking for a ride north. Making a long and boring story short, after six and a half hours of waiting I had had enough and the three of us shared a room in the only hospedaje in town, run by a particularly cantankerous old woman. By now we were all feeling pretty fed up with this village and we were fearful there would be no restaurant avaliable as well. This is when the town decided to redeem iteself. We happened upon a hole in the wall, locals only type place, that was more a bar than a restaurant. The music was bumping and smoke clouded the small room. We asked for food and were fed the only thing avaliable, a very Chilean plate of steak topped with two fried eggs and a side of mixed salad. Dinner was followed by several liters of beer which than transformed themselves into dancing with the three local ladies in attendance. Wow could they move those hips!!! It turned out to be a truly amazing cultural experience, an evening I will not soon forget. And oh yes, the next morning we caught the first bus north.
Saturday, March 24, 2007
City break
I´ve ended up camping a lot more frequently this trip than I had planned on. This is mainly due to the number of overnight treks I have been doing but is also due in part to the wide-spread avaliability of camp sites in towns along the way. Not only is this a good way to save money but it often turns out to be more comfortable and offer more privacy than a cramped hostel dorm room. This being said, camping night after night while traveling can get to be a bit tiring after some time. Showers are only avaliable sporadically, I think I´ve been averaging about one per week thus far, not too mention the endless self-catered portions of pasta and outmeal that wear down the palatte. There is also the cold temps, wet mornings, and other small things that can begin to wear on you. All of this combined with my back to back to back to back series of long hikes during the past month has my body asking me for a break. I was planning on starting another 3 night hike today but decided to skip it.
Instead, I am spending the night in Coyhaique http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/coyhaique , resting my head in the most plush hotel room of the trip thus far. For $11.50 I´m getting my own room and cable TV! I found myself just lying there this afternoon flipping between bad american movies and local soccer matches. It was very enjoyable. It is also nice to be in a larger town of approx. 50,000. As much as I love the outdoors and the truly spectacular treks I have been doing the past weeks, there is still something to be said about visiting and enjoying the cities along the way as well (I am planning on going to graduate school to study cities after all!) I think if one spent all of their time simply flying through the cities and only looking for outdoor pursuits, you would miss the chance to learn a lot about a country and its people.
Instead, I am spending the night in Coyhaique http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/coyhaique , resting my head in the most plush hotel room of the trip thus far. For $11.50 I´m getting my own room and cable TV! I found myself just lying there this afternoon flipping between bad american movies and local soccer matches. It was very enjoyable. It is also nice to be in a larger town of approx. 50,000. As much as I love the outdoors and the truly spectacular treks I have been doing the past weeks, there is still something to be said about visiting and enjoying the cities along the way as well (I am planning on going to graduate school to study cities after all!) I think if one spent all of their time simply flying through the cities and only looking for outdoor pursuits, you would miss the chance to learn a lot about a country and its people.
Thursday, March 22, 2007
The FLAS!!!
I´m not too fond of the american government. Particularly nowadays, with Iraq a disaster and a multitude of other issues that it is truly painful to see your tax dollars support. Once in a while though, you are rewarded by the devil. Upon returning to Cochrane this afternoon I learned by e-mail that I have received a FLAS fellowship at the University of Michigan for the academic year 2007-2008. The FLAS (Foreign Language and Area Studies) http://www.ed.gov/programs/iegpsflasf/index.html fellowship provides full tuition for 1 year plus a $15,000 living stipend. It is basically a federally funded fellowship to reward those students studying lesser taught languages (in my case Thai). There will certainly be a celebration tonight in Cochrane, I believe a salmon dinner and a bottle of fine Chilean wine are calling my name!
Monte San Lorenzo
I´ve completed yet another trek, this time a 30-35 miler of 3 nights. Vincent and I hopped on a twice weekly minibus and headed to a tiny farm house located about 25 miles southeast of Cochrane. This farm was located on a small spur off of the Caraterra Austral, meaning it was way out in the country side, far removed from everything. On the drive in you passed through lovely mountain valleys drained by the winding rio tranquillo. Most of the rivers and lakes in Patagonia are a stunning turqoise color (resulting from their glacial origins), and this river was no exception. The color of the water here often reminds me of the dyed water you see at miniature golf courses back home. Never did I think I would visit a land where most of the water is naturally this color.
The trek started right at the farm house, slowly traversing a broad valley untill you were well above the river and surrounding swampy cattle fields. Unfortunately, we didn´t follow this traverse from the start, making a wrong turn very near the beginning and staying closer to the river than out guidebook called for. As a result we had to cross 300-400 meters of sludge and other nastiness before we were able to climp steeply up to the proper track. My shoes are in quite a state of disrepair and general griminess after my past 7 weeks of trekking and this detour only worsened their condition. Once we got ourselves straightened out it was a relatively straight-forward 3 hours to a lovely farmhouse located in a valley looking out towards mountains with numerous hanging glaciers and their corresponding water falls. We camped in the shadow of the farmhouse, looking out at the aforementioned glaciers.
The next day we continued on to a different vally for about 6 miles, reaching a base camp for mountaineers hoping to summit the 3700 meter Chilean/Argentine border stratelling Monte San Lorenzo, Patagonia´s 3rd highest peak. This camp featured an immaculate shelter or refugio as they are called here. It was build five years ago in honor of a Swiss climber who died in 2000 attemping to climb San Lorenzo. Unlike most refugios I have come accross during my previous treks this one was well maintained and not smoke coated. A fireplace heated stove was probably the best feature. Vincent and I fed it continuously throughout the evening, providing more than enough heat to cook out pasta and keep a kettle at a constant simmer.
From the camp we completed a 2 hour return side trip up the base of a large glacier sliding down from Monte San Lorenzo. We also managed to scramble (somehwat dangerously) down to a strange natural glacier pool, maybe 300x200 feet in size, that was filled with hundreds of ice chunks that had calved into the water during the previous weeks and months.
On our final full day we returned to our glacier valley farmhouse and walked for two rather steeply uphill hours to the base of the numerous hanging glaciers. When you had climbed high enough you were rewarded with an amazing panorama of a bleak lake where all the glacier few falls had emptied into. We would have stayed longer, just taking it all in, but the winds up there were fierce, forcing us to eat our snacks behind a large boulder. That night at the farm house we purchased fresh eggs and two generous cuts of lamb. I fried up my lamb and it was quite a treat, not to mention a steal at 500 pesos (1 dollar) for a half pound of fresh farm raised free range lamb!!!
We walked the 10 miles back to the original farm this morning and caught our minivan back to Cochrance and my apple and pear tree filled campground. Amazingly we saw no other hikers the entire 4 days! The heavy tourist season is slowlying down now that we are getting towards the autumn months of April and May but still, it is hard to believe that someplace as truly beautiful as that is still so untouched and really unknown. I consider myself lucky.
The trek started right at the farm house, slowly traversing a broad valley untill you were well above the river and surrounding swampy cattle fields. Unfortunately, we didn´t follow this traverse from the start, making a wrong turn very near the beginning and staying closer to the river than out guidebook called for. As a result we had to cross 300-400 meters of sludge and other nastiness before we were able to climp steeply up to the proper track. My shoes are in quite a state of disrepair and general griminess after my past 7 weeks of trekking and this detour only worsened their condition. Once we got ourselves straightened out it was a relatively straight-forward 3 hours to a lovely farmhouse located in a valley looking out towards mountains with numerous hanging glaciers and their corresponding water falls. We camped in the shadow of the farmhouse, looking out at the aforementioned glaciers.
The next day we continued on to a different vally for about 6 miles, reaching a base camp for mountaineers hoping to summit the 3700 meter Chilean/Argentine border stratelling Monte San Lorenzo, Patagonia´s 3rd highest peak. This camp featured an immaculate shelter or refugio as they are called here. It was build five years ago in honor of a Swiss climber who died in 2000 attemping to climb San Lorenzo. Unlike most refugios I have come accross during my previous treks this one was well maintained and not smoke coated. A fireplace heated stove was probably the best feature. Vincent and I fed it continuously throughout the evening, providing more than enough heat to cook out pasta and keep a kettle at a constant simmer.
From the camp we completed a 2 hour return side trip up the base of a large glacier sliding down from Monte San Lorenzo. We also managed to scramble (somehwat dangerously) down to a strange natural glacier pool, maybe 300x200 feet in size, that was filled with hundreds of ice chunks that had calved into the water during the previous weeks and months.
On our final full day we returned to our glacier valley farmhouse and walked for two rather steeply uphill hours to the base of the numerous hanging glaciers. When you had climbed high enough you were rewarded with an amazing panorama of a bleak lake where all the glacier few falls had emptied into. We would have stayed longer, just taking it all in, but the winds up there were fierce, forcing us to eat our snacks behind a large boulder. That night at the farm house we purchased fresh eggs and two generous cuts of lamb. I fried up my lamb and it was quite a treat, not to mention a steal at 500 pesos (1 dollar) for a half pound of fresh farm raised free range lamb!!!
We walked the 10 miles back to the original farm this morning and caught our minivan back to Cochrance and my apple and pear tree filled campground. Amazingly we saw no other hikers the entire 4 days! The heavy tourist season is slowlying down now that we are getting towards the autumn months of April and May but still, it is hard to believe that someplace as truly beautiful as that is still so untouched and really unknown. I consider myself lucky.
Sunday, March 18, 2007
A St. Patrick´s day to remember
Warning: This post is quite long. You may need to read in segments.
Well, I´ve returned to Chile once again. This entry comes to you from Cochrane, Chile, a modest town of 3,000 on the southern Careterra Austral. Perhaps the best feature of this town is a reasonably priced internet shop!! It feels great to no longer be trapped in the frustrating universe of $4 internet. Just to shock myself, I like to convert that into Baht and think of paying 160/hr for the internet, oh the horror! My past week was obviously internet free and really quite enjoyable. One of the lessons you repeatedly learn while traveling is the importance of flexibility. So you have to wait an additional week for the ferry?? You do your best with what you can and that is exactly what I did.
My week began with a tale of two pick-ups. I had to hitch from El Chalten to the southern edge of Lago Del Desierto, where the road literally ends. My first pick-up was old, maybe a 1975 Chevy. The windshield had been overtaken my dozens of spider-web like cracks. The visor on the passenger side was stuck in a permanent down position and the one wiper was operated by a local man in his 60s, whose family owned one of the local estancias (large farms) in the area. We chatted about the weather and the isolation of the place. He was friendly and it was nice to talk to a true local. About a quarter of the way to the lake he dropped me off and I walked in light rain for the next 45 minutes. My next pick-up was about as different from the first as you could get. A 04´ or 05´ Toyota Tundra, fully loaded with leather seats and a 6 CD changer. The plates said Washington. Turns out this guy, an obvious Seatellite if there ever was one, had driven down with a friend from Seattle to Ushuaia in only about 3 months and was now making his way back north again!!! He took me the rest of the way, while we chatted about our respective trips. Only by hitching can you meet two such opposites!!!
The lake where the road ends, Lago Del Desierto, was under under dispture between the two nations untill just 10-15 years ago and there is still a small army/border patrol base here. I camped on the south end for one night, the only person within probably 20 miles. It still astonishes me sometimes what short distances you have to travel to escape from everyone. The next day I hiked for 4 hours from the southern to northern end of the lake and set up my tarp tent. The view from this camp/border patrol base was astonishing, across the length of this 7 mile turqoise lake to the mountain of Los Glaciares national park 35km beyond. Again, my apolagies for not providing the corresponding photo at this point. The following day I hiked for 5 hours to a remote shelter a few hundered meters from the border (not a legal crossing point). From here you could look and even step into Chile (somewhat illegally) to view a glaciar on the edge of the massive southern patagonian ice field: http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Southern_Patagonian_Ice_Field (this page has a map on it which provides a good view of my route from El Chalten to Villa O´Higgins)
The following day and night were spent returning to and camping again at the northern edge of Lago Del Desierto. On Friday I walked with Vincent, my Irish friend, across the legal border point and into Chile. About a 14 mile walk in total. From here on the edge of the stunning green of Lago O´Higgins, Patagonias 4th largest lake, we camped at a private farm run by this amazing old couple, both of whom appeared to be at least 80 years of age. We bought fresh steaks cut from her own cows at the price of 1 dollar per pound!!! I also got to watch her making a fresh batch of beef enpenandas. Saturday morning broke and finally my day of embarcation had arrived. At 5:40 pm our boat pulled out into the rather large swells of the wind blown lake and we rocked and rolled for 3 hours before arriving at a dark Villa O´Higgins. We were taken to a local hostel and quickly informed of the true limitations of a town of 500 which untill 1999 could only be reached by boat or plane. There are no restaurants and no bars ( a rather big dissapointment for Vincent considering we had arrived in Villa O´Higgins on St. Patrick´s day, after crossing a lake that required no dye to be made green!!! The hostel owner told us the only way to get food was from one of many tiny food shops. He of course recommended the shop of his girlfriend and there we purchased beer, frozen chicken, cheese, rice, frozen veggies and returned to the hostel to prepare our St. Pattys day feast. I should also mention that this town had no bank and no doctor, both of whom make only monthly visits. This morning I was ready to go, ready to get to a real town (Cochrane) that would provide me with some real food and internet. We jumped on a mini-van run by the same hostel owner(he made a killing on us) and flew up the extreme southern strech of the Carretera Austral to Cochrane. The road was all gravel and quite bumpy but provided constantly changing vistas of glaciar capped mountains which produced more waterfalls in one 200km strech than I am sure I will ever see again. This trip took about 6 hours including a 45 minute ferry ride over a wind and rain swept fjord. We finally rolled into sunny Cochrane and Vincent and I found a camping spot in the back yard of a hostel, surrounded by amazingly delicious apple and pear trees which I quickly proceeded to gorge myelf on.
Well, I´ve returned to Chile once again. This entry comes to you from Cochrane, Chile, a modest town of 3,000 on the southern Careterra Austral. Perhaps the best feature of this town is a reasonably priced internet shop!! It feels great to no longer be trapped in the frustrating universe of $4 internet. Just to shock myself, I like to convert that into Baht and think of paying 160/hr for the internet, oh the horror! My past week was obviously internet free and really quite enjoyable. One of the lessons you repeatedly learn while traveling is the importance of flexibility. So you have to wait an additional week for the ferry?? You do your best with what you can and that is exactly what I did.
My week began with a tale of two pick-ups. I had to hitch from El Chalten to the southern edge of Lago Del Desierto, where the road literally ends. My first pick-up was old, maybe a 1975 Chevy. The windshield had been overtaken my dozens of spider-web like cracks. The visor on the passenger side was stuck in a permanent down position and the one wiper was operated by a local man in his 60s, whose family owned one of the local estancias (large farms) in the area. We chatted about the weather and the isolation of the place. He was friendly and it was nice to talk to a true local. About a quarter of the way to the lake he dropped me off and I walked in light rain for the next 45 minutes. My next pick-up was about as different from the first as you could get. A 04´ or 05´ Toyota Tundra, fully loaded with leather seats and a 6 CD changer. The plates said Washington. Turns out this guy, an obvious Seatellite if there ever was one, had driven down with a friend from Seattle to Ushuaia in only about 3 months and was now making his way back north again!!! He took me the rest of the way, while we chatted about our respective trips. Only by hitching can you meet two such opposites!!!
The lake where the road ends, Lago Del Desierto, was under under dispture between the two nations untill just 10-15 years ago and there is still a small army/border patrol base here. I camped on the south end for one night, the only person within probably 20 miles. It still astonishes me sometimes what short distances you have to travel to escape from everyone. The next day I hiked for 4 hours from the southern to northern end of the lake and set up my tarp tent. The view from this camp/border patrol base was astonishing, across the length of this 7 mile turqoise lake to the mountain of Los Glaciares national park 35km beyond. Again, my apolagies for not providing the corresponding photo at this point. The following day I hiked for 5 hours to a remote shelter a few hundered meters from the border (not a legal crossing point). From here you could look and even step into Chile (somewhat illegally) to view a glaciar on the edge of the massive southern patagonian ice field: http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Southern_Patagonian_Ice_Field (this page has a map on it which provides a good view of my route from El Chalten to Villa O´Higgins)
The following day and night were spent returning to and camping again at the northern edge of Lago Del Desierto. On Friday I walked with Vincent, my Irish friend, across the legal border point and into Chile. About a 14 mile walk in total. From here on the edge of the stunning green of Lago O´Higgins, Patagonias 4th largest lake, we camped at a private farm run by this amazing old couple, both of whom appeared to be at least 80 years of age. We bought fresh steaks cut from her own cows at the price of 1 dollar per pound!!! I also got to watch her making a fresh batch of beef enpenandas. Saturday morning broke and finally my day of embarcation had arrived. At 5:40 pm our boat pulled out into the rather large swells of the wind blown lake and we rocked and rolled for 3 hours before arriving at a dark Villa O´Higgins. We were taken to a local hostel and quickly informed of the true limitations of a town of 500 which untill 1999 could only be reached by boat or plane. There are no restaurants and no bars ( a rather big dissapointment for Vincent considering we had arrived in Villa O´Higgins on St. Patrick´s day, after crossing a lake that required no dye to be made green!!! The hostel owner told us the only way to get food was from one of many tiny food shops. He of course recommended the shop of his girlfriend and there we purchased beer, frozen chicken, cheese, rice, frozen veggies and returned to the hostel to prepare our St. Pattys day feast. I should also mention that this town had no bank and no doctor, both of whom make only monthly visits. This morning I was ready to go, ready to get to a real town (Cochrane) that would provide me with some real food and internet. We jumped on a mini-van run by the same hostel owner(he made a killing on us) and flew up the extreme southern strech of the Carretera Austral to Cochrane. The road was all gravel and quite bumpy but provided constantly changing vistas of glaciar capped mountains which produced more waterfalls in one 200km strech than I am sure I will ever see again. This trip took about 6 hours including a 45 minute ferry ride over a wind and rain swept fjord. We finally rolled into sunny Cochrane and Vincent and I found a camping spot in the back yard of a hostel, surrounded by amazingly delicious apple and pear trees which I quickly proceeded to gorge myelf on.
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