Archive for the 'Chile' Category

Chile Summary Now Online

Theresa December 26th, 2008

We’ve added a new page to our Country Summaries; check it out for a review of our time in Chile. Because we have hundreds and hundreds (maybe thousands) of photos of Chile to sort through, we haven’t yet uploaded them but will (hopefully) soon. We’ll let you know when they’re up. We also don’t have the budget page up yet, but we’re planning to do some serious arithmetic on our upcoming bus ride to Lima and will post that info as soon as possible.

As for what we’re up to now. We’re leaving the Chilean border and beach town of Arica tomorrow morning to cross into Peru and then hop an 18 hour bus up to the capital city of Lima, where we will meet my brother Gregory on the 28th. Then it’s adventures in Nazca, Cusco, and who knows where else. Stay tuned.

A Makeshift Chilean Christmas

Theresa December 25th, 2008

It came without brisket, it came without tags
It came without 19 types of cookies, without a tree, wrapped boxes and bags
But somehow it came, it came just the same.

Okay, I lie. It didn’t come just the same. I didn’t get my annual family viewing of the animated version of “How the Grinch Stole Christmas.” I didn’t get a bedhead family photo on the stairs Christmas morning. I didn’t get the loud exclamations from my brothers over every gift they get as though they are 5 years old and not 20, 23, and 26. I didn’t get my Christmas Eve dinner of brisket, mashed potatoes, green beans, and chocolate pie. I didn’t get to hear the same Dowell family stories that I’ve heard pretty much every year of my life on Christmas Eve. I didn’t get the au gratin potatoes, jelly jokes, and all-family photos at the Zimmerman Christmas day gathering. I didn’t get to indulge in every type of homemade cookie known to man or participate in impromptu family sing-alongs to Christmas songs.

So yes, Christmas came, but it didn’t come at all the same. But we did our best with what we had. We tucked away the little green foam Christmas trees that came with one of our bus boxed lunches. We bought a tiny nativity scene that depicts the Holy Family as indigenous Andean people. And we browsed the markets until we found red woolen socks that would serve as stockings. Then we got a nice room in a nice hotel (comfortable bed! TV! wifi! jacuzzi tub!) and decorated our desk. And guess what? Santa found us even though we’re tucked away in a nowhere town in northern Chile.

Calama ChristmasIndigenous Nativity

What did he bring us you ask? Well, we got a bag of delicious Rainier cherries, a mini lemon pie, a brownie, cookies and a candy bar, cupcakes that look like Hostess cupcakes but are called Penguinos (penguins), a pair of earrings (for me, not Jeff), and penguin and llama finger puppets. Jealous, yes?

I understand. Because hey, I’m jealous too. Though we made the best of the holiday, I think we both agree that Christmas without family just isn’t the same. Whoever it was that said there’s no place like home for the holidays, well (s)he knew what (s)he was talking about. Next year, I can tell you that no matter where life leads us post-RTW trip, we’ll be home for Christmas…and not just in our dreams.

Merry Christmas, everyone, wherever you are.

Torres del Paine

Jeff December 3rd, 2008

Wow. We’ll go into more detail about Torres del Paine, but that’s the important point: Wow. You know how a picture says a thousand words? This post is going to be a little brief on the words and long on the pictures (edit: wow, was I ever wrong about this … it’s long on both, beware). Because that’s the only possible way to do Torres del Paine justice. If you’re going soon and want to savor the experience yourself, you may want to turn away (coming soon … the things you need to know about TdP that you can’t find out till you get there).

The classic trek through TdP is called ‘The W’. It’s called this because with ~80 kilometers of footsteps, you trace a W into the dirt trail. There are three ways to access this W, via road, via catamaran, and via 17 km trek. We, naturally, chose the arduous way in. We did so because, well, we’re crazy and thought 80 km wasn’t enough, and it gave us the grand perspective of the park as you enter. We were stopping every 10 minutes to take pictures as the cloud cover was constantly revealing and hiding peaks.

We arrived that evening at our first refugio, which, thanks to Theresa, we had booked far enough in advance to ensure a bed. It’s something quite lovely to hike all day, get sweaty, dirty, grimy and smelly, then step into a nice lodge in the evening, have a hot shower, a hot meal, and a Thanksgiving Cerveza Austral Calafate Ale.

The next morning we started up the left arm of the W, toward glacier Grey, into a cold, fierce wind and occasional outbursts of stinging rain. The rain quickly faded but the wind kept at us all day.  We persisted, eventually breaking through to a beautiful long distance overlook, and then, two hours later, the arrival at the glacier.

After marveling at the glacier as long as our cold bodies could stand, we huddled into refugio Grey for a tea and hot chocolate by the fire. It was right about then that I became completely sold on refugios. So what if they cost 2-3 times what they do in the city — they do it smack dab in the middle of nowhere, and always just when you need them most. Re-energized, we decided to head to the next campground for a closer look at the glacier. We got our closer look, but through a most unofficial means: we lost the trail pretty quickly and ended up scrambling over boulders and loose rock, eventually reaching a lookout almost directly above the face of the glacier itself. I’m not sure how we did it (or exactly how we got back), but we lost the trail we were assured was impossible to lose. After our adventure, we returned down the same path back to our same refugio for a second night.

Our third day found us ascending into the middle of the W, Valle Frances. In retrospect, this was the highlight of our trip, and also our hardest day. We started with an easy two hour stroll over to Campamento Italiano, where we ditched our packs (since we’d be returning the same way later) and headed up the valley. As we slowly ascended, we got better and better views of a giant glacier field to our left and the Cuernos, three peaks, to our right.

When we first heard a thunderous noise, in D.C. hiking mode, we began to worry about an impending storm, only to look across the valley and see an avalanche streaking down the glacier field. The sight was incredible and the noise defeaning. It kept happening the entire hike, as the afternoon sun wreaked havoc, and we never tired of it.

We reached the valley’s “mirador” - lookout, and found ourselves surrounded by majestic peaks and gorgeous views, then turned around and descended, all the way listening to the music of the glaciers. We retrieved our packs at Campamento Italiano and began our trek to Refugio Los Cuernos, a further two hours walk. About then, a light but steady rain began to fall, soaking the trail and making the already difficult terrain slippery. The conditions, our heavy packs, and the steady procession of peaks and valleys made this section the toughest terrain for us. we fell into the refugio and again, were thankful for a shower and a warm bed to look out at the rain from.

But we really had very good luck with the weather, as we awoke to sunny skies and perfect weather. What some say is the hardest section of hiking we found rather agreeable (though I think the weather had much to do with that - its known for being very windy), as we hiked slowly, then rapidly, gaining altitude through open fields beneath more avalanching glaciers to Refugio Chileno. Arriving early in the afternoon after only five hours of hiking, we decided that given the beautiful weather and the swiftness with which it can change, we’d better hustle up to the park’s namesake - Las Torres - that afternoon. We strolled for an hour through a beautiful forest, then began a mad scramble directly up a boulder field, eventually reaching the “end of the trail” beneath Torre Norte, Torre Central and Torre Sur, the iconic towers of Patagonia.

While we had originally planned to do the typical thing and hike up the next morning for sunrise, to watch the towers “turn red,” we could see some of them from refugio Chileno and I did wake up for sunrise, snapped a few photos and fell back into bed.

We did the hour hike out the next morning, finishing our ~100 kilometers (~60 miles) in four days + 1 hour, and celebrated with an ice cream in the spring sunshine.

So if you’ve made it this far, the only summary I can offer is what I began with: Wow. I hope all the rest of thse words have managed to convey some sense of that to you.

Torres Del Paine: A Teaser

Jeff December 1st, 2008

What would you call it?

Jeff November 21st, 2008

Picture this: We drive an hour and a half to reach … a salmon spawning farm.  In their parking lot, we don wet suits (though don’t pull them over our tops yet), walk past their security guards and janitors topless (not to mentioned bottomed in wet suits), and head across their campus to a trail that leaves from the other side.  We walk, for half an hour, through the forest, in wet suits, sweating with every step.

Now picture us arriving at a crystal clear blue green pond with a beautiful cascade of water leading into it and ten feet high cliffs on either side.  Now picture me jumping off the cliff into the pool.  Then picture Theresa sliding headfist and backward down the cascade.  Picture us crawling “alligator-style” down the flatter regions, headfirst and guiding ourselves over small, smooth boulders and down narrow chutes of water to the next pool.  This pool is a whirlpool, without any effort, you would move in circles for eternity.  But with a few well times strokes we are carried over the next falls, sliding into the next pool.

Picture me running along the wall to this pool completely horizontal before gravity interrupts my fun and sends me crashing into the pool.  I try multiple times, each time lasting a step longer than the time before.  Picture us careening off a perfect launchpad of a slide to a pool fifteen feet below.  Many more jumps and chutes follow.

Picture this trip culminating with a rapell down a 90 foot waterfall, water spraying around us the whole way down.  And picture the final jump, a 20 foot leap from behind the waterfall out into its thundering impact.

Now, what would you call this sport/activity?  I have yet to come up with anything better than canyoning (its official name), but a better name is needed.  It just doesn’t do justice to the experience.  You guys got any good suggestions?

Chilling in Chiloe

Theresa November 18th, 2008

We all know that guidebook writers love to use trite and generally meaningless adjectives—charming, delightful, beautiful, lovely. They also love to give things the title—the hottest, the swankiest, the best—as well as to make lists. Lists above all get them in the news. And Lonely Planet, being the institution that it is (read that how you will), publishes a book each year called the Blue List, which is supposed to let you in on all the best places to visit. In the process of releasing the book, they also send out a list that gets published in newspapers around the world stating the year’s top ten destinations. Apparently, this year’s list was released in October, and well, wouldn’t you know it but our last week’s destination, the Chilean island of Chiloe, ranked #3 on the list of places you must go in 2009.

I didn’t hear about this until our last day on Chiloe, unfortunately, or I would have postponed our visit until the magical year of 2009. It appears we showed up a wee bit early, seeing that it’s still 2008. I guess that must be why I’d simply rank Chiloe as, um, well an okay place to pass a few days rather than one of the world’s 10 must-see destinations. I’m certain come 2009 it will be an entirely awesome place that will have all visitors swooning.

Now don’t get me wrong. Chiloe is a nice place. Lovely really. Even charming in places. But it’s not top ten. It’s not top twenty. It’s not even top one hundred. It’s not somewhere I’d go if I just had a week in Chile, or even two weeks. It is instead a good place to go if you, like us, have many weeks to spend in Chile.

Then, you can, like us, spend an afternoon wandering along the waterfront admiring the palafitos (or houses built on stilts over the water) and snapping photos of them when the tide comes in and they reflect perfectly in the water.

You can meander inside the UNESCO designated churches and admire the fine woodworking and simple designs, all while listening to the rosary being recited over loudspeakers by what sounds like a five-year-old.

You can watch Chilean kids enjoy their favorite activity—playing in park fountains—while savoring an ice cream cone in the plaza.

You can travel across the island to the national park and search for the frogs that you hear bellowing along the forest trail, then visit the tiny workshop of a tiny man who makes wooden spoons and woolen caps, and finally walk along the foamy beach for nearly 2 hours wondering just how far you must walk before you actually reach anything worth noting.

You can take an hour-long bus ride to the even smaller island of Quinchao to visit the town of Achao, which Lonely Planet describes as “a charming destination with a landmark church, outstanding architecture, fine food and accommodations” You can then wonder whether that was a major typo or whether it’s only because it’s Sunday that you would instead classify it as “a down-and-out town whose only attraction is the crowds of drunk men that congregate everywhere.”

You can enjoy a bowl of curanto—the local specialty of mussels, clams, sausage, chicken, dumplings, potatoes, and pork in a broth—while looking out over the water.

You can buy a bottle of Liquor de Oro—the local specialty drink made with milk, alcohol, sugar, cloves, lemon, saffron, bitter almonds, vanilla, and cinnamon—and share it with the fellow travelers at your hostel while wondering together about where you’re supposed to find the “distinct culture” that Lonely Planet says the place oozes.

And in the end, if you’re like us, you can be perfectly happy to pass a few days there. Because although it may not be what you expected (having thought it might be more like the Swedish Archipelago or the Aran Islands, where there is indeed a very distinct culture), and although there may not be a ton to do, and although there isn’t a bike path or a place to rent bikes when that would obviously be the very best thing you could do on this island that is indeed scenic but rather uneventful, it doesn’t really matter a bit. You’re still on an island in Chile in springtime without a care in the world. You have in front of you a $3 bottle of wine that’s better than a $50 bottle at home. You have a fantastic sea view from your bedroom window. You have a roaring fire in the fireplace. You have a good book in your bag. And you have the company of fellow travelers, each with a good story to tell. Really, who could ask for more?

Our Pucon Triathlon

Theresa November 16th, 2008

Set on the shores of Lago Villarica and in the shadow of the volcano of the same name, Pucon is paradise…unless living in shouting distance of a 2,847-meter acrive volcano that last erupted in 1971 concerns you. So okay, buying property there might not be the world’s wisest move…though trust me if you see the place you will be tempted…but hanging out for a few days is a smart decision, especially if you like the great outdoors and active pursuits.

In the shoulder season, when we were there, this Aspen-like town is ideal as the onslaught of tourists that arrive every summer has yet to fill the streets and you can actually enjoy the German architecture, the fine dining, and the amazing scenery without feeling like you’re just one in a sea of tourists (though to be fair, many of the tourists are Chilean, so it’s not entirely Gringo-land). The only real difficulty is deciding just what to do with yourself while your there as the options are great.

For many, the prime activity is climbing Volcan Villarica. Though we were tempted for a split-second, we decided to pass, considering we’d just done some volcano climbing in Nicaragua and from what we had heard from those who attempted it, it was really more of something you did to say you had done it rather than something they actually found enjoyable.So after much debating, much visiting of tourist agencies, and much research, we decided on a plan for the three full days we had in town: hike, bike, swim—our own version of a Pucon triathlon.

So on day one, we caught the early bus to Parque Nacional Huerguehue, where we did a 17-kilometer roundtrip hike, ascending from 700 meters to 1300 meters through a forest of giant trees, including the aruacaria (or monkey puzzle tree), which is unique to this region, can live for 3000 years (some of these were 2000!), and seems to be a mix of a conifer, palm tree, and cactus. As we climbed, we passed two raging waterfalls and paused to two overlooks with panoramic views of lakes and volcanoes.

Upon reaching the top of the mountain we were ascending, we were greeted by one of the most beautiful lakes known to man. The water was perfectly clear and it was surrounded by sheer rock cliffs and huge aruacaria trees. A loop around the two led us from one perfect lake to another. The term “Lake District” almost seemed too simple. There were lakes, yes, and there were many of them, but they were much more impressive than your everyday lake.  Whereas most tourist regions tend to exaggerate their riches, it seemed that here they weren’t even coming close to doing their area justice.

Eager to see more of this gorgeous region, we woke up on day two, grabbed some mountain bikes, and headed out of town to complete a 40-kilometer loop. For the majority of the outbound trip, we traveled over a gravel road, climbing small hills and then coasting down, a crystal clear river running to the right of us and bucolic scenes of rolling farmland and grazing lambs appearing on our left.

Just as we were getting good and hungry, we arrived at our destination, the Ojos de Caburgua, a set of waterfalls on private property. We weren’t exactly sure what to expect, and though we’d gotten a bit accustomed to the beauty of the area, the otherwordly turquoise color of the water crashing down the three waterfalls was enough to leave us speechless. After enjoying our lunch in their spray, we explored every overlook, never quite getting enough of the falls. It was so beautiful that even the 20 kilometers back to town in a serious headwind couldn’t put a damper on our day.

The most adventurous of our activities awaited on day 3: hydrospeeding—or rafting Class 3+ rapids sans raft. Instead of a large inflatable boat and paddles, we’d have nothing but a small foam board into which we’d tuck our forearms and guide ourselves down river through tumbling rapids. I was, for a bit, convinced I’d either drown or die from a heartattack from the cold water (about 10 degrees Celsius or 50 degrees Farenheit), but once I squirmed my way into the 7-mm thick wet suit, flippers, life jacket, and helmet, and jumped in, I was pretty certain I’d survive. In the end, not only did I survive, but I had a blast. The current quickly picked us and pulled us along, and before I knew it we were in the first of about 8 rapids we’d face. It was absolutely exhilarating crashing through the waves. Only Jeff and I had signed up for the day’s trip, so we had a blast with our guide, as he led us through the rapids, avoiding all the large rocks, swirling eddies, and other traps. And because the water was probably purer than what comes out our taps at home…no matter how deep I could always see the bottom perfectly…I didn’t mind the fact that I must have drank a few gallons of it when we went through the biggest of the rapids, a 300-meter stretch with huge waves. As we pulled up onto shore after 14 kilometers and 1.5 hours of watertime, it felt almost short, but as I walked onto land and my legs turned into a jello, I knew I probably couldn’t have gone much farther. Our Pucon triathlon had been just right.

(Unfortunately, I have no photos of us hydrospeeding as we were submerged in water the whole time, but this is a photo of the river we went down, taken the day before while we were out biking. As I’m sure you can imagine, we looked really awesome in all the gear.)

Plaza de Armas

Jeff November 14th, 2008

As I said before, Santiago has a wealth of downtown parks. One of these quickly became our favorite, and we revisited many times, simply for the quality of people watching. We saw everything there, and really, its hard to pick a favorite. So we’re going to do a top five moments in Plaza de Armas during our long afternoon sits.

5. High culture. I’ll start by admitting this one is not so much an event, and not so uncommon in urban parks (bear with us, it gets much, much better). But the park was full of chess players, at least twenty or so games going at one time, all at tables underneath the gazebo. When some musicians took over the gazebo for an evening concert, they simply moved their tables out into the square, and took up at least an eight of the territory. On the other side of the of the plaza were a dozen or so artist stands (which folded up nicely and stacked in the middle of the plaza when not in use) for creating and selling works.

4. The free food lineup. We were sitting in the park, minding our own business, in a busy park on a long bench next to many other people. All of a sudden, and quite to our surprise, everyone got up and formed a long line leading to the other end of our bench. Quite stymied as to what was going on, we looked around, and across the plaza observed a box of food slowly make its way across the park and land at the other end of our bench, followed by a jug of juice. When we noticed that the people in line looked a little disheveled, it all fell into place. How did everyone know this was the spot to line up? And for that matter, the sheer fact that the homeless were patient enough to form this line and wait for their dinner should not be discounted. Nevertheless, my brilliant idea to stand in line and get a free dinner was denied.

3. A fountain full of kids. The photo speaks for itself, the kids love the Simon Bolivar fountain.

2. The Western Union llama and the dogs. Imagine you’re a dog. And you’ve staked out your territory in the middle of Plaza de Armas, high quality territory indeed. Lots of people, lots of leftovers, lots of dog lovers. And then imagine a giant, bipedal llama emblazoned with the Western Union logo stumbles into your territory. Needless to say, you wouldn’t be too happy about that. Well the dogs we saw in the park were none too pleased either, forming a wall and barking insessantly on full alert, preventing the llama from proceeding into the park. The moment was priceless, and I can only imagine what was going through the head of the poor guy in the llama suit. He at least had the good sense not to advance into the face of danger. Theresa’s well documented aversion to dogs prevented us from getting closer to the action, but I did get this shot of the llama later (presumably after the dogs had been appeased).

1. Pigeon-catching. Is this a new chilean sport? We watched a group of about 3-4 kids with a cardboard box and some pigeon-feed patiently sitting and waiting for pigeons to follow the trail of food under their box. Like a classic cartoon, they then removed the stick and trapped the pigeon, pulling it out of the top by hand and putting it in a picnic basket for safe keeping. After watching this process repeat itself three or four times, our inquisitiveness got the best of us and I had to walk up and ask what in the world they were doing. I understood that it was some sort of class project, but not much more than that. I still can’t fathom a reason for doing this though.

First Impressions Santiago

Jeff November 12th, 2008

We landed in Santiago. There was a bus to town right outside the airport that left two minutes after we got on. Amazingly, each person paid for, and got, their own entire seat. It dropped us off at - get this - a metro station. We hopped three stops down the metro, got off, walked a block and found our hotel. We took showers; the water was hot. We went to bed, the sheets were clean and comfortable. We woke up, a simple breakfast was included with our room. We drank fresh juice. We walked outside. People were everywhere beneath tall skyscrapers, what looked like businessmen shuffling between meetings or taking a late morning coffee break, women with an eye toward fashion browsing the shops, students lounging about like students do. It was a bustling downtown. And here’s the other crazy thing, they had legitimate pedestrian only streets. Most of their downtown, save for a few cross-streets, was car-free.

Everywhere we wanted to go, the metro went. The downtown area was a pleasant stroll and fantastic for people watching. There were well designed parks winding through downtown, as well as enclaves of “solitude” as well - as long as you prefer your solitude along side many amorous chileno couples. In short, it was a city that worked.

So the thing we can’t figure out at this point is, do we like Santiago because it is truly a nice city on its own merits, or is it simply so refreshing to have our comforts returned to us after Nicaragua? We’ve spent a few days discussing this without really reaching a conclusion. Of people we’ve talked to, I have to say that I think Santiago and Chile have gotten a bit of a bad rap. I mean, no one says its bad, but its rarely said that its good, especially compared to its neighbors Argentina, Bolivia and Peru. It’s somewhat forgotten in that. But so far, we have found Santiago and Chile most appealing. It’s beautiful in so many different ways, organized and thanks to a resurgent dollar (I know, big shocker there huh), reasonably affordable. With that bit of a teaser, there’s more to come in the next few days.