Prelude to the Patagonia

Since we figured out that we could make it down to see Torres del Paine in the South of Chile, our trip turned out to really center around that voyage to the sandy point of the continent. We would only have time for two stops before our flight out of Puerto Montt to Punta Arenas: first, we spent a few days in the Temuco area, and then we had a harried visit in Valdivia.

Wind-up Birds and Monkey-Puzzle Trees

We left Santiago on Saturday, December 4. We meant to leave earlier, but finishing up school stuff got in the way. I set out with Alexana, but a few days before we left, we made plans to travel with Camille, too. It was Alexana’s idea to go all the way south, to the Chilean Patagonia. It hadn’t occurred to me really, since it’s so far: it would have been about 80 hours in bus, and we’d have to pass through Argentina. I hadn’t read anything about Chile that far south: it seemed out of the question. And it was for Camille, so sadly, she ended up traveling alone, only as far as the 10th region.

(Note: good old (not) dictator Pinochet is responsible for hacking this beautiful nation into 12 geographical regions, the 1st being at Arica—near the border with Perú—and the 12th at Tierra del Fuego. Santiago lies in the 5th region. I’m not sure what they do with the Chilean territory in Antarctica.)

Everything seemed thrown together at the last minute. Alexana had no real experience hiking or camping. My backpack holds only 40 liters and could barely store my belongings. We found a flight at the last minute to get us all the way to Punta Arenas, but Alexana had to be back in Santiago by Friday the 17th to meet her parents, so our time at Torres del Paine would be limited.

Discombobulated as always: a good beginning. We took a bus that night to Temuco, which is in the 9th region: the “Mapuche trading city” which would serve as our gateway to the Parque Nacional Conguillío in a couple of days. The main motive for starting there was, for Alexana, shopping for Mapuche crafts.

Have I told you about the bad-ass Mapuche? They are the most significant indigenous group in Chile, though they are also in Argentina. They managed to fight the Spanish at pretty much every step of the way during the colonization of Chile, and though the struggle’s not over, they are famous for keeping their land autonomous for about 300 years, from 1598 to 1884.

Anyway, they also are famous for their silver crafts, which Alexana was determined to buy, and I regret not picking up.

We spent a few days there. It’s a nice small city and though I had a hard time orienting myself there (it really shouldn’t be that difficult: in every Chilean town, there's a big Plaza de Armas, around which the rest of the city is built), I enjoyed it. Lots of gypsies in the Plaza, good shopping (this is where Alexana’s naughty influence begins), a fabulous museum we never visited, and a great big park on a hill just outside the city, where a “peace treaty” between the Mapuches and Spanish was famously signed. We also met some wonderful and some strange Chileans there. Oh, and how could I forget to mention the hours and hours of bad TV we indulged in at the hostel? Funny enough, that will be one of my fonder memories, zoning out watching TV with Alexana.

Then we decided to inaugurate our camping supplies and head out of town to a national park that was founded to protect the “monkey-puzzle tree.” At the time, I was merely charmed by the name of the tree, which I had read about in Sarah Wheeler’s travel narrative about Chile, Travels in a Thin Country, but didn’t have much else to expect from the park.

There is no public transit into the park, which seemed funny to my gringa mind until we were actually in route. We took a bus down what was a pretty normal country road (paved, that is), and then suddenly it seemed the shocks went out because it was all bumpy and crazy-like. We got to Melipeuco, the town at the southern entrance to the park around 9pm and found that the taxis our beloved Lonely Planet promised us were merely a figment of gringo fantasy.

And so it was that our bus driver took notice of our situation and hollered over at an older local guy who was dedicating his pick-up to a taxi-like service, to see if he could take us into the park. ¿Ahora? ¿A esta hora? he asked us a bit incredulously. It was getting dark. And rain seemed inevitable. But how bad could it be?

As we bumped along the crazy windy road (if you could call it that) leading into the park that night, I realized we were making our way onto the moon. It actually took a good two hours to navigate the path to the part of the park we hoped to find campsites, and we began to really appreciate the old man and the woman he took with him as a traveling companion. He deserved no less than the fat stack of bills we would hand over.

It was pitch black and rainy by the time he pulled up to what would be our home for the next couple of nights, so we set up the tent (borrowed from Camille) and feasted on some fruits on veggies and tried to stay dry and cheerful.

Not a problem, since, though we didn’t have the best rest of our lives that night, we did get to wake up to paradise the next morning: we had an amazing view of the mountains and a lake and clear blue skies. Perfect to begin getting in shape for the big hike in the south: we explored the park that day and then hung out with Carlos, the friendly (if you have a Chilean perspective) and maybe slightly creepy (if you are sensitive to sexual harassment) guy who works at the concession at the beach next to the camp-ground. He made us free strawberry borgonia (white wine with fresh fruit) to enjoy in the sunset while he told us stories about gringos traveling before us. We wondered what stories he would tell about us one day, as we savored the fun of being two young women traveling “alone” (unaccompanied by males).

The monkey-puzzle trees are more properly called araucania pines, and you will have to see them yourself, but they are quite charming little trees, I’d say. They call them that because the funny shape “vexes the monkeys” (in Sarah Wheeler’s words): they’re hard to climb. There are sadly no monkeys in Chile, so that doesn’t really make sense, but there is a small marsupial endemic to the region, but they’re very shy and we didn’t see any trying to climb the darn trees. Native to Chile, and I’m not sure where else you see them. They’re also called “paraguas,” or umbrella trees because of the funny shape. The park also seemed to be home to what I can only call wind-up birds—reminding me of a wonderful novel by Murakami, and lots of lizards and tame foxes that just walk by.

The next day we took a very challenging boat trip around the little lake, taking turns at the oars and playing butch while trying to avoid the evil rays of the delicious sun and enjoying the cascades that flow down from the mountains to the lake.

We caught a ride out of the park that evening with one of the camp-site administrators, who had taken his wife to see the park for a few days and was heading back to Temuco. That’s the closest we ever came to hitch-hiking, and it was quite fun.

Das Goot Bier

We got into Valdivia late, maybe around 11 on Dec. 8. As was usually the case, there was a crowd of humble folks waiting to greet arrivals, to offer them rooms in their hospedajes, so we found one we liked, where we would stay for only a couple of nights.

There were two key points to our time in Valdivia. First, both Alexana and I still had assignments due for school due while we were there, so unfortunately, we spent the better part of two days rushing to get our papers done, rather than seeing much of that beautiful city. Yay for cheap internet cafes! We also enjoyed a ritzy lunch at a nice spot overlooking the Plaza de Armas and did some shopping at the feria on the waterfront, but we didn't make it to the museum of do a boat tour on the river.

I loved Valdivia though! It's a university town, it's super-hilly, and smaller than Temuco, and it seemed to have some kind of underground culture we didn't really tap into, though overall the people were pretty nice.

Well, they were pretty nice, minus one shady colectivo driver. Which gets us to the second highlight of our trip: BEER!!! Yes, Validivia is home to the Kunzmann brewery, where the best Chilean/German beer comes from. So to celebrate finishing our papers after spending a few days inside, I dragged Alexana to the brewery. It's a little out of the way and not so easy to get to, and she doesn't like beer one bit, but fortunately, she was convinced this was a worthy way to celebrate.

Mmmmm, such good food--I think I had smoked salmon--washed down with some tasty dark beers--I was ecstatic! Got some good souvineers, too, which was as good as you can get, since you weren't there. Oh, and we watched such good bad TV back at the hospedaje that night. Love it.