Pucón

After Siete Tazas, we headed on a bus through the night to Pucón where we were going to try to climb Villarrica Volcano, just north of the lake region in Chile. We arrived into town in the morning and with little information from the CONAF (forest service) sites or tourist center we headed to the volcano with the hope of summiting it. Villarrica stands 2847 meters and is a steep walk up crushed lava to the rim. On our way into the park we drove by the CONAF officers, who waved us on without giving us any sort of information.

Volcan Villarrica seen from the town of Pucon

When we reached the top parking area where the ascent on foot would begin, we combed the area in search of a trail, or someone to talk to you and ask where to begin and any other information that would be helpful. We found nothing. We spotted a girl coming down the volcano and approached to ask for some information, she pointed us towards the top and said it would take about 5 hours. Since we couild see the top we began to climb upward. We walked for a while until reaching a hut just shy of the snowline, where, for the first time came upon some information about summiting the volcano. It said that noone is able to go beyond this point without registering with CONAF, and without the proper gear - an ice pick, a helmet, and crampons. We were disapointed, but were trying not to lose sight of the spectaular view around us. From where we were, we could see the impressive Volcan Lanin, even taller than Villarrica, towering over nearby Lanin National Park, as well as some lakes scattered across the wide valley.

We hitched a ride back to town with a professor who told us a place to rent the gear we needed and how cheap it was to rent, but since we would need another day for a second attempt, we decided to continue with our plan to return to Santiago through the night. We spent the day walking around the touristy ski town and took a short nap on a black sand beach along the shore of a beautiful mountain lake.

Back in Santiago for one last day, we stopped back in to see Jaime and Pablo, who were now hosting a guy from Norway. We ventured to the zoo, which was a bit of a disappointment. It was disheartening to see how cramped and dusty the habitats were, although because the zoo is situated on the side of a hill, most of the animals do have a nice view of the sprawling metropolis.

Our Adventure Continued

At one point the cairns, cow and horse tracks that we were following disinergrated. We combed the area for any sign of the trail and came up short, so we decided to drop our packs. Taylor went in search of the trail while Melissa stayed with the packs so we wouldn`t lose those or travel any further in the wrong direction. While Taylor went in search of the trail a white tailed hawk flew from his direction over Melissa and perched on a tree in the direction that we came from. So we went with that sign and followed in the hawk`s direction. As Taylor neared the tree the hawk took off and and changed direction; as its path and Taylor's crossed, he stumbled upon another cairn. We took this as an omen that we were being looked after and continued onward.

We hiked till dusk, which was about 8:30, estimating that we had made about 16 - 18 miles this first full day. We found a flat spot on a cliff over looking a lush green valley, which we would later find out was the valley that we wanted to be in to see Siete Tazas. The next morning we awoke sore and exhausted, packed up our stuff and fell back into the routine of trekking. We climbed over a mountain to a plateau to find wild horses grazing in our path and a tree line approaching. The treeline looked hopeful as it seemed to have a more defined trail. After hiking about 4 miles we came up on a man and his son making what looked like a sweat lodge out of organic materials. They had built a hut out of trees, covered it with leaves and were now adding dirt and sealing it with water. After talking to the men about where we were, we found out that we were FAR ,very far from the Park. How far, we didn't know - they had no clue, not even a guess, just very far. However they told us that we could follow the road till it got to a main road and that road would eventually lead us to Molina, the city that we were going towards after the park. So with no clue how far to walk on this dusty road we took off, with blisters, sunburn and disappointment.

About five hours and maybe 6 miles later we saw a house and approached it to ask, again, where we were and how far we were from civilization. A very generous family offered us water with wheat flour and sugar and told us that we were not the first trekkers to have stumbled upon their house. We drank the sweat concoction and were given a bag of tomatoes and peppers and led through a yard under some barbed wire, and over a river by three kids that said we should hit a main road in about an hour or an hour and a half. After two hours of walking down this dusty gravel road we came upon the road that led to the park, right as a bus that read Siete Tazas was coming down the road! We were finally where we had wanted to be, after hiking about 40 miles, in the heat for two and a half days.

The park was not what we were expecting. All of Chile also thought that this would be a great place to pass the hot, summer days and so there were droves of people packed into campgrounds that rimmed the Rìo Claro. As we got to the end of the bus line we were in a dusty overcrowded campground where we were able to buy a few beers and a completo (a hot dog in a bun that was dense and homemade smoothered in chopped tomatoes, guacomole, mayo, ketchup, and mustard. YUMMY!! And yeah, Melissa ate some of the hotdog - we were so hungry after all that hiking we both would have eaten anything at that moment. However, we were well prepared with enough food to make the trip and did not need to buy anything (so you parents don´t worry - we could have cooked a meal for ourselves, for we had enough supplies for a few more days if we were still lost in the woods).

The next day we saw the falls, which were magnificent. We even were able to swim in a pool of water that had a huge waterfall falling into it, which was freezing. All in all the journey turned out to be quite the adventure and all worth it.

Hiking Adventure in Middle Chile

So, we wanted to see a national park called Radal Siete Tazas, named for ¨The Seven Teacups¨ where the Rio Claro drops spectacularly through a series of basalt pools. We had read that it was possible to make it a longer trip by starting out in a neighboring national reserve, Altos de Lircay, and heading north. We heard that although it wasn´t an official trail, the way was becoming better marked, and it was now possible to hike it without a guide.

So we rode a bumping, deafening local bus up into the mountains to Altos de Lircay and asked the ranger at the entrance about getting to Siete Tazas. He first double-checked that we understood our destination was not in his park, then took a pen and appended onto the crummy, pixelated official park map a rough indication of where our path would veer off of their network of trails. He drew a small hill, then at some indeterminate distance beyond it a river, then his line snaked ambiguously toward the top of the page - at which point, presumably, we would end up in or near Radal Siete Tazas, of which he had no map to give us.

Off we headed into the park, with adventuresome spirits and a dim idea of where we might be going. By sunset we had made about 6km and found a picturesque perch that would fit our tent and give us a sweeping view of the valley, aglow with twilight. The next morning we were up at sunrise and off to find our mystery trail. The junction was right where it was supposed to be - so far, so good - but the path quickly bent back toward the park entrance and away from where we wanted to go. Backtracking, we found a second trail branching off of that one, marked with a small rock cairn. It took us to a creek crossing populated by cows, then past the hill we were expecting (in the wrong order per our directions, but why split hairs?). We filled all our water containers, because if this was the water the ranger had indicated, it was supposedly the last for a long while, though again, how long we could only guess.

As we climbed north the trail disintegrated into a series of cairns to mark the way. For the rest of the journey it would alternate this way; at times the path was worn and horse tracks were distinguishable, and at other times we would move in increments, searching for the next stack of rocks to indicate that we were still on course.

...And we interrupt this message for dinner and a bus. This chapter is to be continued...

Valparaiso and Santiago

To try and catch up: We spent two and a half days in Valparaiso, a bustling old port city that grows uphill from the water in a colorful patchwork of houses, restaurants and shops, all stacked precipitously to overlook the freighters that chug back and forth in the bay. Chile´s bohemian enclave, it´s full of steep, winding alleys with messages like ¨Smash your TV; live your life¨ scrawled across the steps, and bright graffiti murals adorn many of the buildings.

Getting off the bus just before sunup, we tried in vain to nap in some chairs in the terminal, then decided that the city was probably awake enough that we ought to give up and start our day as well. We took a long walk across the city in search of an internet cafe that didn´t exist (the first time our Lonely Planet bible has let us down so far), but eventually found another one and managed to book the next 2 nights in a nice little hostel a few blocks up the hill from the main thoroughfares.

The hostel, ¨El Yoyo,¨ was full of friendly people and stocked with the most recent seasons of Family Guy on DVD, so when trying to decipher Spanish got too taxing (explains Taylor), we kicked back and indulged in some familiar laughs. The Yoyo was right up the hill from a crowded open-air market where we bought veggies to cook up, and we ventured down to the port to buy fresh shrimp as well. At first we couldn´t find the fish market, until a security guard answered our question by taking us through a back room and out into an alleyway, warning us in spanish to watch our belongings - he then kindly stayed and watched the whole time as we looked over the fresh catches and bought our camarones.

Other highlights from Valpo include trudging way up to the heights of the city to find one of Pablo Neruda´s houses, which is now a little museum with a view of the bay, and then grabbing lunch at a classy little restaurant on a tiny, romantic balcony overlooking most of the city. We also walked down to the pier, where amid several ¨No Fishing¨ signs, locals were lined up with hooks and spools of line, pulling in fish hand over hand almost as fast as they could get their lines in the water. From there we also saw the resident colony of sea lions basking on a buoy.

As for Santiago, we had a great first experience with couch surfing. Our hosts, Jaime and his partner Pablo, were always gracious and fun to chat with. Saturday night (Valentine´s Day) we cooked dinner for them, shared some wine and fell asleep watching Saturday Night Live, which in Chile is just now catching up to election time, though alas, it wasn´t one of the episodes with Tina Fey doing her Palin impression. For a city of 6 million in South America, Santiago seemed comparatively clean (well, in only smelled of sewage sometimes), and it was easy to find our way around. We were excited to find sushi for the first time since leaving the States. We saw a couple of museums, including one dedicated to pre-Colombian Latin America, which had mummies way older than their Egyptian counterparts and a really cool exhibit on ancient fishermen who speared whales from sealskin catarafts. We also climbed up to Cerro Santa Lucia, a rocky hill in the middle of town, adorned with staircases and fountains, that afforded a nice 360-degree view, despite the smog obscuring Santiago´s mountainous surroundings. After a two and a half days in the city, we were ready to strap on our packs, get out into the backcountry and get some good excercise. Be careful what you wish for...

Valle de Elqui

So, going on a recommendation from a Chilean kid we met in a campground in San Pedro, we stopped in La Serena and caught a bus up the Elqui Valley - ground zero for the production of Pisco, a popular South American liquor. The bus ride was about an hour and a half to get to a little town called Pisco Elqui, where we camped for the night.

The scenery was impressive; all the way up, the valley was blanketed in thick fields of grapevines, most flanking the river but some planted into steep hillsides. The bus followed this lush green swathe, winding up between arid crags reminiscent of a Wyoming range. The campground we found was up a hill near the top of the town and offered rows of shady sites, a homemade lagoon with a dock to dive from, and a massive bonfire pit. It was full to the brim - we had our choice of two tent sites among perhaps a hundred - with students on their summer break and young bohemians taking two weeks off from work.

We were quickly befriended by our neighbor Rodrigo, who had been camping there since New Year´s in a big tent with an air mattress. He was a jovial soul who seemed to know everyone at the campground, probably because he had at one time or another invited all of them into his tent to share some of the fine local pisco or a joint - he kept trying to get us to smoke with him, right up to our goodbyes the next day.

Before we left Rodrigo took us away from the touristy ¨centro¨ to a cheap, fixed-price lunch spot he liked. As he helped us order he explained to the girl behind the counter that our gringo stomachs were having some trouble adapting to Chilean microbes (we haven´t been seriously ill so far, but at the time we both had been brewing some gastrointestinal funkiness for a day or two), so the girl went into the back and, after a few minutes, out came the abuelita (little grandmother) with a secret potion to settle our systems. It was something on the order of cornstarch and sugar stirred into little cups of water, and whatever it was, it seemed to work.

On our way out of Pisco Elqui, we tried hacer debos (hitchhiking) for about an hour, enjoying the exercise of walking with our packs. We got as far as the next town, about 4km down the road, but with the sun beating down and everyone´s cars packed full of people, coolers, and beach towels (for swimming in the river there, which we never made it down to), with no room for us, we went to plan B and hopped a bus back to La Serena.

That doesn´t actually catch us up to now, but we´re on our way out the door to the bus station yet again. Next up for us: our first couch surfing experience, in Santiago. From there we´ll tell you about Valparaiso, where we´re saying goodbye to our hostelling pals right now.

Change of plans, seeing the desert

A relatively quick update: our trip from Arica up to Lauca NP proved logistically complicated for the time being, so we jumped right onto another bus and continued south (another long overnighter) to San Pedro de Atacama. What used to be a dusty stop along a cattle route has in the last decade or so grown into a prime tourist trap - an adobe fortress of tour agencies, knicknack shops and cute restaurants serving pizza, salmon, risotto and milkshakes, among other tourist-friendly fare. We wanted to see the world´s highest geyser field aside the Volcan El Tatio, and after plying around town we were forced to accept that the only way to get there was on a tour bus for about $37 apiece. Not wanting to have ventured inland through the desert for nothing, we sprung for it and joined hundreds of other tourists in a 4am caravan to see sunrise at the geysers. It was pretty, but probably not worth it. Gotta hop a bus now for La Serena, but we´ll write more from there.

The first long bus trip

After being escorted to the bus station by our incomparably helpful new best friends, we embarked on a 20 hr ride through the stark sands of Peru´s South Coast. Here we are with Rosa, her husband Miguel and their little one, Marcello.

There was no air conditioning on the bus, but the windows opened and kept us surprisingly comfortable. The only disappointment was that the overhead lights didn´t work. We woke up as the bus was pulling into Tacna, the gateway to Chile, early this morning. We negotiated a taxi on our own for the first time and were dropped off at the train station to find that the train wouldn´t leave for another 8 hrs. So now we´ve ambled through Tacna to find the city center and a computer.

More on Lima, since we have the time - drivers there are crazy. It makes New York traffic look like Sunday afternoon in Wasilla. Lanes are just a suggestion, and a cacaphony of horn sounds, some like sirens or sci-fi weapons, fills the air - apparently hitting the horn every few seconds is imperative if you want to get somewhere. The ultimate experience was riding in a "combi," a minivan outfitted for about 10 people, with a driver´s assistant perpetually hanging out of the sliding side door, yelling at people to jump in or out as the van lurched in and out of the stop-and-go traffic. Lilian, Rosa´s sister, coached us to hold bags tight in our laps, lest they fall prey to an arm reaching in through the open window. Yikes! Without her and Rosa´s help, trying to navigate around this city of 7 million would´ve been a whole nother ballgame.

We´ve got more pictures - we´ll try to get them up soon. Chao!

Leaving Lima

Days 1-3 have consisted of getting a feel for the hustle and bustle of smoggy Lima and falling in love with a family of new friends. Background- a couple of years ago as my (Taylor's) mom was getting ready to fly home from a trip to Cuzco, she struck up a random conversation with a woman named Rosa, who was working in the airport. Rosa offered up her home and the next time my mom came through on her way to Cuzco (where she also had new friends), she got to meet Rosa's whole family. Now it was our turn to stay with them, so when we landed Monday night, Rosa and her husband Miguel were waiting in the crowd at the airport with a big sign that read ¨Friends Melissa and Taylor!¨

Our gracious hosts gave us a room to ourselves and have cooked us some delicious dishes such as lomo saltado (essentially steak and fries) and ceviche (fish in a rich lime-juice and chili sauce that cooks it chemically; otherwise it's raw). We met a whole slew of the neighborhood kids and got to play futbol and a street game called kiwi with them. They were adorable and loving. Now we're about to hop a bus down to Tacna, by the Chilean border. Should be about a 20 hr ride. See you in Chile!