This time we’re taking you back to May 2010 and to a desert in northern Chile.

We leave Pisco Elqui taking a morning bus ride through the valley back towards the coast. After a couple of hours we arrive the lively fishing town La Serena on the northern coast of Chile.
I think up a hilarious and catchy, or as just puts it super annoying, song called “HEY LA Serena” sung to the tune of Macarena it really only has three words and a prelude of pretending to speak Spanish and anyone can join in. Basically it goes:
Takeabus tothecoast of northern chile
Haveabigheadache cozyoudrinktomuch pisco
HEEEEEEY! LA SERENA!!!
Thankfully one homeless guy thought it was pretty good, he and his toothless grin joined in before falling over.

Anyway, our stay in La Serena is short as we are making our way up the coast to San Pedro de Atacama. So we spend a brief dazed moment at 7am walking around La Serena. Even at this early hour there are people getting about their daily business and painting graffiti on the steep streets that lead down the hill to the harbor. But we have no more time to explore, we board our bus to Calama for our 14 hour ride.

The scenery flies past.

Some of the scenery

By the time we arrive at Calama it’s night time. Calama bus station is small, crowded and dirty. We push through the mob to get our bags and find the next bus to take us to San Pedro. All goes well and we’re on our way for the final leg of our trip.

We sing – “I just spent 16 hours in a f__king bus!” clap-clap.. clap-clap. Sung to the tune of 6 months in a leaky boat by Split Enz.
We get off the bus in San Pedro de Atacama, into the dust bowl of a station. I suppose they don’t bitumen the roads here because it just gets covered in sand nor do they install street lights. So our travel tired bodies trump down the dusty sand roads to find our hostel/B&B. This is harder than you think at night time in a strange place with only the occasional moon and one street light to guide you. I now completely understand how Jesus ended up in a barn.

The streets in the moonlight look peaceful, clean and are lined with the 10ft brick walls that surround the properties here. Probably to keep the street light out I think. We finally find the place after stopping and asking a few stray dogs, all named Baxter because they speak Spanish(Anchorman reference), and helpful locals. Hostel Elim is brilliant, lovely clean and warm. Warm?!? you say, yes warm, at night the desert is below zero.

Hostel Elim and the high brick walls

Jess on sandy streets of San Pedro de Atacama

We wake to the warm sun, beaming through the window, get changed, have breakfast and go for a stroll around the dusty streets. The place resembles something out of Mad Max crossed with Tatooine. The buildings are made from thick clay bricks with flat roofs and the entrances are stepped down from street level. All to ensure that people my height bump their heads into the doorway as they walk in or to ensure the place is as cool as possible or for the amusement of the local shopkeeper who laughs at the stupid tall pale faces bumping their heads. At least I have all my teeth I say to the shop keeper who speaks perfectly good English and charges us a small fortune for Panadol to soothe my sore head.

One shop selling sandboarding tours

Streets of San Pedro

The streets are busy with tourists and lined with restaurants and tour companies all enticing you to visit. Towards lunchtime it’s time to get out of the hot sun so we duck into one of the many café’s. This one advertised smoothies, so naturally wanting to continue my tasting of banana liquardo’s around South America, it was chosen. In through the door and out into semi-covered courtyard. Lunch is super tasty and the banana smoothies are close to the best so far.
San Pedro is well known for its geysers. The afternoon is spent scoping out the tour companies for a trip to the geysers and strolling through the town and its markets.

The markets are colorful and rather quiet with all stores selling practically the same brightly coloured fabrics and other clothing items along with cocoa leaves. Cocoa leaves? We soon discover why, by about 3pm we are shattered and head back home for a sleep. San Pedro is located 2407  metres above sea level and us flat-landers have come straight up from the coast into the altitude causing us to become tired very easily. They suggest chewing cocoa leaves to help increase circulation and assist with the acclimatization. Instead we just pull up a hammock in the shade of a tree and a refreshing beer.
Dinner time rolls around so we head to the outdoor restaurant Adobe. A large dimly lit courtyard with tables set around a large fire-pit. Bellies full, it’s time for bed as we need to rise early 4am for our trip to the geysers.

4am! I don’t mind it myself. Jess on the other hand doesn’t operate until 9am even with coffee. We stand on the curb, outside the hostel waiting for our bus. It’s late, it’s cold.
Finally a packed mini-bus arrives and we board it with all the other half-asleep people rugged up in winter clothes. No one says much, except the occasional “is he always like this” to Jess about my singing, whistling, tapping, talking etc. “Just stare out the window” Jess sternly tells me. I stare out the window, it stares back. It wins.

The bus climbs out of the desert into the hills and down into the crater. We arrive at the geysers, it’s too dark to see anything except a bit of steam rising in front of some headlights so we wait for the sun to rise.

Nothing to see here

It’s only -18 and we’re all standing outside waiting for the guide to setup coffee and cake for breakfast. My hands feel like they’re about to fall off and on fire at the same time. I’m dancing around doing my finest impression of an African Tribal dance. The coffee is warm but hard to hold and the cake froze instantly.

The guide and the geysers

One of the geysers

We’re directed over to a place where you can swim in the hot springs, it’s still -10 or so and they’re nothing compared to springs in Pucon so we pass and instead take the time to wander the geyser fields.

Some didnt pass on the opportunity for a wash

Geyser fields

There a Jess in there…somewhere

The naughty corner

As the sun rises the temperature does as well, dramatically, in the space of an hour or so the temp goes from -10 to + 20. We know this thanks to the running count provided by some nerd in our group with a thermometer.
Back aboard the bus, we’re off to our next stop. A small one street town, the purpose of which is strictly to sell tourists shabbily made junk, charge for toilet use and tasty llama meat kebabs. We find this a lot around South America, the tour bus pulls up in a shanty town to almost guilt the tourists into buying something to support the locals and just adds to the reasons of why we dislike going on organized tours as opposed to the self-guided type of adventure.

Jess checking out the local town lake

Llama kebab

Rock man

The town in all it’s glory

After the kebabs we race another tour group to a small canyon full of cacti. It’s a short hike/walk through the large cacti and down into the canyon which isn’t all that impressive.

Goal! Dockers up by 3

Cacti

Canyon

As we reach the bus, a girl from the other group races off to use the bathroom. In the middle of this cacti desert scene are two open air porcelain toilets. They look extremely out of place. The wooden door swings shut, we board the bus, it starts moving. I notice the guide cracking up with laughter. He explains that the toilets were dumped there and aren’t connect to anything not even a hole, she might as well be behind a bush. Plus, he continues, there’s no front to them and they face the highway.
The bus pulls away onto the highway, sitting there pants around the ankles with a surprised look on her face, she gives the bus a wave as the driver toots its horn.

The next day we wake late and head out for brunch. Funnily enough back to the same café, it was that good. We walk in and to our surprise, sitting at a long table in the middle of the courtyard is Jane and Scott who we met in Pucon a month or so before! What the hell!?! Ok, so Jane and Scott were travelling the other way (anti-clockwise) around South America, we figured we wouldn’t bump into them again but in a small dusty desert town, in a tiny café, miles away from anywhere we do exactly that. We sit, catch up and share stories. Then meet up later for dinner. They tell us of their time in Buenos Aries, the northern part of Argentina which we didn’t get to and the rest of their awesome round the world year long trip. We share plans, there is talk of Arica, Arequipa, Bolivia and Cusco who knows. Again we part ways and wish each other well on the other side of the gringo stump.

The next morning we’re back on the f__king bus, off to the city of Arica home of the famous surf break El Gringo.

Related posts:

1. Vancouver – Week 2-3
2. Wildly Dramatic
3. There’s no emu’s in Pichilemu

G’day Travelers,

As per usual we’re Michael J Foxing it back to the future in our proverbial Delorean all the way back to June 2010.

Its a Saturday, not that we’d know thanks to Travel Time which has it about “not long ago”, a bright and sunny Saturday. We have just come from the surfing town of Pichilemu on the coast of southern Chile.  We’re on a bus, possibly made in the mid-70′s or at least the seats smell like they haven’t been cleaned in that long. We’re flying past the the fields and small hillside towns on the way too Santiago, Chile’s smoggy capital city.

We’ve been to Santiago before and along with what we’ve read and heard from other travelers its a city best served as a pass through point. It’s actually quite a nice big metropolis right on a doorstep of the Andes with a lot of European charm, much like most of the cities we visited in South America. But it is big with a LOT of people everywhere at every time and due to it’s location a very bad pollution problem.

We spent the day and most of the evening exploring the city, we found ourselves spending a lot of time around the neighborhood of Barrio Bellavista. Barrio Bellavista is a lovely, lively part of Santiago. Its colourful streets are lined with pubs, restaurants, art galleries, dance studios, night clubs and cafe’s.

Did i mention colurful?

The modern section of Barrio Bellavista

We could of spent more time and money eating our way around the cafe’s and pubs of Santiago but we had a bus to catch. This bus was heading into the great unknown, otherwise called Pisco Elqui at around 10pm.
Pisco what-eee? ye that’s what i said when Jesse first mentioned it. She managed to translate, fairly direct translation, from a Spanish travel magazine that Pisco Elqui was a pretty awesome off the beaten track place to visit. Jess has a surprising knack of filtering through travel articles and taking us to the middle of somewhere to see something. When you get to this place, its usually a cow paddock or empty town with spinifex rolling through then around the corner is an amazingly brilliant something.

So we piled on board another night bus, this time full cama(first class roughly $35) with Turbus, for our 8 hour journey up to the port-side town La Serena. From there, at 6am on a Sunday, you get on a small football team bus, you know the small 20 odd seat buses that the footy coach drives the team around in. The footy bus, is empty and brand new surprisingly. We hop on.

Map of La Serna and Pisco Elqui

It’s another brilliant sunny day around 22 degrees and we’re now heading inland from the coast. On the winding way up through the valleys and mountains Jess explains to me why we’re going to Pisco Elqui.
“Elqui Domos” she says.
“Great!! A Spanish delivery pizza place. But is it that good.” i respond.
“Noooooo silly. It’s aparently got some of the clearest skies in the world. There’s a hotel there that actually these dome things.” Jess replies
“What tents?!” I butt in.
“No these” Jess shows me a photo:

Back to the bus ride. After hugging the sides of some steep mountains, looking down upon the lush valleys below and about 17 questions of “are you sure we’re on the right bus?”. We arrive in Tuscany, Italy. Surprised?! We were.
I figure the Chilean earthquakes were so viscous that they shook Pisco Elqui to Italy and slid Tuscany through the centre of the earth into Chile. Dont believe me?

Just outside of town:

Elqui valley

Town Church

This town blew us away. It was a extremely beautiful little town, with people gathering around the town square singing and playing music. The bus pulled up, the driver kicked us off and told us to walk up the road.
We grabbed our bags and started our walk up the windy road marveling at how clear and blue the sky was.

Pisco Valley so blue:

Down the meandering road

After about 10 minutes we arrive at Elqui Domos. I think to myself, “this is a hotel!” And it very much is, there’s everything you’d expect of a hotel, people collecting your bags, a delicious restaurant, a pool etc etc. Everything but a brick and cement walled room.
Elqui Domos is one of only seven astronomic hotels, fancy term for hotel based around Astronomy, worldwide. The domes themselves are two storey on the inside. The first floor is a lounge area and bathroom, then climbing up a ladder is the main bed with a detachable roof over it. Yup you can sleep literally under the stars, now this is camping!! One thing we did find is how the sound of what seemed like hyenas mating permeated through the thin dome walls. It made comments like “Sleep well” or “Did you have a good night” to our fellow guests childishly funny in the morning.

The main large dome reception and restaurant by the pool:

Looking down on the domes:

More domes:

The main dome:

First level:

Second level:

After more talking about Yurts, Jess decided it was time to shut me up and put food in my mouth. So we walked off down the quiet country road and found a restaurant. As you do.

Down the stairs to our table:

Want a lunch and we also discovered something new. Pisco Sours! Pisco, as it turns out, is a local Chilean/Peruvian clear tasty and alcoholic drink. They generally mix it with juices like lemon to make cocktails. And as it turns out Pisco Elqui is a major manufacturer of Pisco! Who would of thought!!! Yurts and alcoholic cocktails……heaven.

We wander our way back after a few Pisco Sours and bump/stumble into a Pisco factory!!! Brilliant! If you’ve ever seen the Simpsons were Homer goes to Chocolate Land, it was exactly like that. If you havent, watch this:

They even had Pisco in the walls:

One bottle of Pisco

She wore Lemmoooonn

We asked the bloke who owned the joint “Show us ya vineyard” snigger. So he did:

Pisco in hand we finally made it back to our dome in time for dinner! Dinner is served and prepared by a local lady from the town and it is 3 courses of delicious tasty goodness plus some more Pisco.

Jess enjoying dinner:

After dinner, it’s off to use the telescopes and have the local Astronomer give us a tour of the night sky. We look at the moon, Orion’s Belt and view the rings of Saturn in wonderful clarity.  With our pisco’s full of belly we head off to bed to watch the stars dance across the sky. It was truly awe inspiring, peaceful and beautiful to watch the planets and stars perform for us without a cloud or light to hinder its act.

In the morning we wake, enjoy a fresh breakfast and begin our trek back to La Serena.

Cheers

Hutch

Related posts:

1. Deserted – San Pedro de Atacama
2. There’s no emu’s in Pichilemu
3. Pucon ya face!

Pichil-emu get it!?!? ha!

It is May 20th 2010 and Jess and I have just taken a 3 hour ride aboard an old bus from Santiago through the Chilean countryside to the fishing village of Pichilemu….

There is something unsettling about the very earth you stand upon shaking! A sort of uneasy fear knowing there’s little you can do other than stand in awe of the great force of nature. The first few times we felt the tremors I convinced Jess someone was just doing some earth moving with a dump truck, I was 50% right.

Pichilemu after the quakes:

Yup the Concepcion, 50km south, earthquakes still cause small daily tremors in Pichilemu. The people are busy rebuilding homes and places destroyed by the second 7.2 earthquake or the tsunami that followed. Even with all the destruction, Pichilemu is an amazingly special place. It has an aura of relaxation, a place where time doesn’t matter unless it’s breakfast time, time to go surfing, time for bed, time for a beer etc etc.

It’s not a modern or pretty town by any means. Perched on a high peninsula stretching out into the Pacific wrapping itself into a long bay and a small river. It is very picturesque yet most roads are dirt, the curb-side is lined with rubbish, houses are in need of repair and a smell of dog shit fills the air due to the high number of the roaming dog population. The public areas are nice, neat, well groomed and have mass potential. But if it ever made good on that potential it would lose its charm.

View from Beauna Vista Cabanas over Pichilemu

View of la puntilla on a flat day

Arriving in low season has the advantage of really getting your feet wet with the local culture and people. It’s easier to bite through the tourist crust of a town and get to the gooey goodness inside. Like the friendly family man selling dulce de lecce(caramel) filled buns in a cart outside the local and only supermarket every night. He chatted to us in broken English and fluent Spanish then ordered us a taxi home each night. We never really understood what he said but he knew us, said Ola(Hello), smiled, introduced his children and helped us on our way.

Just out taking my Llama fo a walk

It also has its low points, such as arriving at the surf hostel only to have no staff, no reception, no water and no guests. Just dumped there with a key by the caretaker. You spill out onto the streets to find the restaurants closed, shops closed and holiday homes locked up. “We will stay the night then leave” you say to each other.
The only other inhabitants this day were pelicans:

Cabana Puntilla

During the day our routine would involve a long slow breakfast of scrambled eggs on toast, corn flakes, a coffee and listening to the nightlife with Tony Delroy.

The daily grind

You can take the man out of the computer but you cant take the computer out of the man:

When the quiz was done we’d get ready for the afternoon. I’d walk Jesse to her Spanish school and whilst Jesse advanced her Spanish, with her fantastic teacher Connie, I strolled up the point along the shore to a local surf shack. The shack was run by a stocky bloke Rodriguez who also ran most of the towns home building so business was booming for him. Rodriguez would have laid out ready for me a new Billabong wetsuit (the only one they had for anyone over 5’6), booties and a 6’6 quad-fin fish every day. Most of the time they were working on the building sites so I’d just pick it up and pay him whenever I felt like it, it was that sort of place.

I’d then walk the rest of the way up the point to where you paddled out behind the protection of the seaweed covered rocks. This was the break I surfed the most as it was a 10minute walk from the cabanas right in front of town called La Puntilla. The break is capable of producing 800m rides on the right day and most day’s I spent the first few hours of the afternoon surfing La Puntilla with just me, a couple of others and the seals and the penguins popping up to see what these odd creatures were doing in their backyard.

La Puntilla

On average the waves never dropped below head high making nice 50-75 metre lefts, occasionally there’d be days with a fresh swell travelling up the coast producing waves in the double over head region. These new swells would make rides over 150-200m possible and you’d be too tired after 2 waves to paddle all the way back out. Too quote Endless Summer II “As a surfer, you’re stoked! No one’s out!”
I’d spend a few hours sharing the waves with a few others calling them into waves, having them call me in, them talking to me in Spanish and me replying in English. No one knew what the other was saying only that watching countless lefts peel through unridden was pure joy.

5 o’clock would roll by, you knew it was 5pm because all the local workers would start paddling out. I’d tell them that they missed it, the tide changed and it was better earlier. They’d just laugh then hoot as they took the next wave. Most of the hoots and yeee haaawws came from a bloke named Mitch. A Christian missionary from the good ole US of A who has been here for 22 years. He’s now fixing up his gym and pool as well as rebuilding people’s homes that were lost in the tsunami or earthquakes. On top of all that do-gooding he was judge of the Big Wave Competition being held at Punta Del Lobos. He explained that he wanted to get all the competing surfers to come and help build a house. He’d then shoot a documentary on the process and the family. He asked me to help but unfortunately I don’t think he managed to get this organised.

Quicksilver Big Wave Competition

The crowd:

Punta Del Lobos was another amazing place to surf, 1 of 3 within 5 minutes drive of each other. Lobos is the most famous break but not the best, I’ll keep that one quiet, it’s power is hard to get used to. Even on a small head high day thanks to how deep the break is the waves push you along at a fair rate before barrelling over an inside section and continuing their path wrapping around the point.
It’s an intimidating place at first, the paddle out, the currents, the power and the size of the waves all make it a challenging spot to surf. The first time I arrived at Lobos I had no idea how to get out to the break besides a good 1km paddle from the beach. Luckily a friendly French guy, he spent time overseas to be de-frenched, took pity and explained the paddle out.
“First you climb down the cliff over here” running over and pointing down the 30ft goat trail to the bottom.
“Then you get up on that rock platform, be careful not to get swept off so time it well. Then after a wave has come through you jump and paddle like a mad man to the big nipples before the next wave comes else you’ll end up on the rocks.”
“Nipples?” I questioned.
“Yes those two big rocks with the bird shit on them they look like two big tits.”
“Ok” I said.
“So once your there you’ve done the hard part, walk around the back and wait in between sets and paddle like a mad man into the channel.”
His instructions were spot on and after making it down the goat track, across the channel and off the tits I understood exactly why he mentioned “mad man” so many times.

Aforementioned nipples with me ducking behind them:

Punta Del Lobos

Ripping the curl

Cut back

X2

Setting up…

The day before the first time we left Pichilemu we sat on the rocky cliff and watched the mad men perform an intrinsic dance across the face of watery mountains. 15-20ft+ waves broke in front of the sharp rocks. The surfers riding big guns rode the drop and out in the channel to the cheers of the crowd. Those unfortunate to come unstuck got pounded by the surf, 2-3 waves in a row and were swept across the rocks too be picked up by a jet ski zooming to their rescue.

Pichilemu was one of the best places we discovered on our trip around South America. It’s chilled out vibe, friendly people and unforgettably great waves were so good after we left the first time we travelled all the way back from northern Argentina just to surf, learn Spanish and sit in our cabana sipping red wine.

Hutch

P.S Dont go there you’ll hate it.

P.P.S For those who didnt see the video i whacked together on the Big Wave Comp:

Related posts:

1. La where the hell?
2. Deserted – San Pedro de Atacama
3. Pucon ya face!

*Warning this post contains lots of images*

It’s early May 2010 say around the 10th May 2010 actually. We’re in Pucon, Chile, which is 10 hours or so south of Santiago and pushed against the Andes.

We are arriving from a lovely little ski town San Martin De Los Andes by a 4 hour bus ride. Why do bus rides seem to have the same affect on time as doctors surgery’s etc. Anyway, Pucon is a lovely little town on a lake, which is great because it’s part of the lake district…be a bit rubbish if it wasnt, and nestled amongst the hills of the Andes. There’s heaps to do in Pucon, trekking, whitewater rafting, mountain biking, climbing the volcano, hot springs etc. Lots of tasty food and places to have a few quiet ales but your here for the great outdoors.

After arriving in Pucon we drop our bags off at the Hostel Edigio and grab something to eat. We are stoked, scrambled eggs!!

5 hours later.

I don’t feel so good. It’s 6:30pm and we’re trying on the equipment for our trip up the Volcano. The trip is all organised by Borris, the bullet dodger, as in Borris the sneaky f@#$ing Russian, who is the hostel concierge if you will. All set, packed, geared up and ready. Dinner time, we find out it is the owners birthday and her husband as packed on a massive BBQ for us. We sit and eat giant cuts of steak and drink a delightful merlot. During dinner, i start to feel worse…

Pucon Ya Face:

Beautiful:

The top tip of the tip top Volcano we want to climb:

Jesse trying on the soo sexy climbing gear

Up at 5:30am, nope we’re not going up no Volcano today. I’m far too sick and Jesse isnt feeling too good either.

3 days and 361 visits to the bathroom later…

I’m in the local hospital adding to my tour the worlds hospitals. My last, was the sweeping tour of London’s finest medical institutions(three of them and two ambulance rides) in 2005.  The entire family from the hostel was there to help me out, a translator, the mama and Borris’s the bullet dodger’s fiance. As far as hospital’s go it was ok not too run down. The doctor smelt fresh of ciggarettes and the ceiling had fresh blood on it but other than that it was pretty average.

It was very comforting having the help of the guys who own the hostel they went above and beyond to make me feel better. Constantly checking on us, making me jelly and tea. Especially Lydia or Mama Lydia as we got to know her, we are extremely greatful

Mama Lydia

It turned out the antibiotics given to us back in Perth arent the best for me and they were making things a lot worse. Not suprising, here is what wikipedia says:

Norfloxacin is a synthetic chemotherapeutic agent  occasionally used to treat common as well as complicated urinary tract infections.

Hmmm no not that one:

The licensed uses for norfloxacin are quite limited as norfloxacin is to be considered a drug of last resort when all other antibiotics have failed.

Side-effects include: liver failure, pancreatitis and occasionally random tendon snapping. Anyway with new antibiotics and a couple of days later im climbing a 2800m active volcano.

Huh!?

Ok well a couple of days and a soothing few hours in the hot springs and we’re both feeling capable of climbing a volcano. The volcano in question here is Villarrica which last errupted in 1971 killing two people in another town not Pucon. For those readers who are sharp you may be thinking i never asked a question. Your right, the question is Why and How are we going to climb 2000 odd metres over a glacier and up a volcano after not moving or eating for 5 days?

First off, we decided we were sick of hostels and to make ourselves feel better we checked into some fancy self-contained cottages just outside of the town centre called Cabanas Monte Verde. We also hired a beast of a car, something similar to a 1980′s civic or Puegeot .108, i say .108 because thats about all of me that could fit inside this thing. The important thing was, the cabins immediately made us feel more comfortable. Set on a hillside amongst green lawns and landscaped gardens overlooking the lake.

Our cabin:

Morning cloud rolling across the lake:

View from the top cabin:

Besides the volcano, Pucon is famous for hot springs. There are about 5 or so different hot springs within a few hours drive of Pucon. We went to 3 of them. Our favourite by a long shot was the hot springs at Geometrica Termas(GT) or Termas Geometrica whichever your preference is for order of saying things. The place is one hour drive from Pucon. Unfortunately, as for every adventure we go on, we get lost and spend 1 hour going to a “No Entrar” dirt road leading nowhere and then 2 hours getting back to find the right dirt road to go down.

Now you’re sure we’re going down the right road:

We stopped to ask for directions from the locals:

GT is an amazing place situated in a sharp small valley with a couple of “cold” waterfalls flowing into a stream and the hot springs adding to the mix. The place has no electricity so it’s all lit by candles and fires. In the main reception area we sit by a large fire and take in some home made chicken soup and apple crumble. Tasty! Then venture out into the fog to the baths.

Entrance to Termas Geometrica

Inside the reception area, outside temperature is below 10.

Change rooms on the right:

GT is made up of several ceramic tiled pools of different water temperatures from skin melting to 2nd degree burns

The first pool

The waterfall:

Walking up amongst the trees and ferns to another pool

Anyone for a shower

Relaxed. The next day we decide we should test our lack of fitness and go on one of the many walks in the national parks that surround the area.

From one of the lookouts

This photo is from about half way up, when we were told by the local fishermen that it was getting to late to make it all the way up:

The national parks in Chile are amazing, Australia could learn a lot. Firstly there are, what can be best described as, a heap of them and they all have fantastic services such as guides, well marked and constructed trails, no litter, places to stay overnight and camp and even pubs that take 2 hours to hike too.

Now, the reason most people come to Pucon, to climb Volcano Villarrica! After testing ourselves the day before on a small 2 hour hike to a pub we book our spot on a guided tour up the Volcano. This volcano is active, simply put the earth spits out hot smelly stuff at the top which is part of the attraction, not so attracting is the lack of safety features and we’re told you slip you die. Well! Up at 6am and by 7am we’re fitted out yet again with all the gear and are ready to roll. Only one problem, the Columbian guy on our tour(there’s three of us) isnt here. He rolls in 30mins late, i make jokes about how he had to powder his nose or just checking prices on kidnapbay.com for two Australians.

Our guide Al-someethingorather, we call him Big Al or Big Gay Al(he wasnt but south park quotes are funny) and the Columbian his name is Mario or Big M(like the chocmilk). M calls us team JJ and laughs, probably at the fact that blondes sell for more i dont know. Just kidding, M and BGA are great blokes well M is cracking jokes and speaking better english than our english speaking guide. It worries us “non-spanish speaking people” when they laugh and do pushing signals with their hands then point at the volcano…

Cold, late and budled into a minivan we rally drive our way up to the ski hill piercing the clouds to reveal a spectacular though windy day. We pull up at the bottom of the ski resort, during busier periods the ski lift takes visitors up the first section shortening it by an hour or so.

About 30mins from the base and the temperature is somewhere below f__king freezing

Towards the top of the ski run, burnt buildings destroyed in the the last erruption:

View from the above ruin out over Pucon, you can see the blanket of cloud we drove through:

We stop for breakfast then ascend another hour or so to the next point called Lunch

Lunch is on a spine that extends out from the glacier and yes my hair is awesome:

Big M, Jess and I, yes that’s an ipod i’m listening to. What song? Probably “falling down the mountain” by INXS. Please also note, the only person holding a pick axe is a Columbian!

After lunch it’s time to put on our crampons to ascend the glacier. The temperature somewhere near Absolutely F___king Freezing. We’re given instructions on how to walk with the crampons on and how to position our ice pick so as to stop us falling a few thousand feet if we trip over. This point on the trek is known as sh1tting yourself! The first part is up a 50-60 degree snow/ice incline. This takes 45mins to an hour. At the top, our guide tells us we’re one of the fastest groups he’s had. Probably because the Columbian is on crack cocaine and i’m now listening to some trance music.

The top of the 2nd 3rd, Jesse, Big M and Big Gay Al

The guide leaves his second backpack full of safety gear like ropes and extra crampons etc because it’s too heavy behind a rock.
A panorama from the 2/3 across Pucon:

Ok this photo shows the last 100-150 metres which takes an hour or so. This is steep the exact angle would be above 60 degrees towards “fall-n-death”. The general approach to stop you falling is to have your ice pick on the hill side of you at all times as you zig-zag up the volcano. If you fall you then dig your ice pick into the snow and hold on. Yeah right!

The last section of the climb is too steep, cold and windy to take pictures. The wind is blowing a gale, the temperature officially reaches frostbite, Jess is swearing at herself for even thinking of doing this and i’m sweating and getting rather annoyed because i’ve just been told i cant slide down the volcano because it’s too windy which is the only reason i climbed it in the first place. Yes, on a sunny non-windy slightly safer day you can slide down the top section on a mat! Awesome. We’ve just been told that we’re going to have to walk it!

We make it! The top of the volcano Villarrica. It is amazing! It is the highest peak that you can see. You feel like you’re on top of the world. You’re tired but elated and there’s also a bubbling lava spitting volcano in front of you.

The rim of the volcano, doesnt look safe basically your standing on solidfied molten lava some of which is hollow still emitting smoke. It is difficult to breathe, the sulphur stings your nostrels, throat and eyes. To get away from this we climb along the rim away from where the smoke is blowing.

Top of the world to ya:

Proof, i believe this is the spot where young skywalker fell:

The climb along the rim:

Panorama’s of the volcano:

The climb back down takes FOR E V E R! Slow inching our way back down the ice. By this time my gloves are wet from the snow meaning my hands are frozen and beginning to burn. Luckily our guide takes us down a faster route over some ski runs covered in pebble gravel.

We make it to the bottom utterly exhausted. It has been emotional! But hey i’ve climbed an active volcano have you!?

Hutch

Related posts:

1. San Martin De Los Undies
2. Deserted – San Pedro de Atacama
3. Mendo-zzzzzzzzz-a

View of a distant volcano from near the top of the Villarrica Volcano in Pucon.

Related posts:

1. Pucon ya face!