[011] Wet Wet Chile
I'm travelling in South America. Here's what I'm up to, some photos and other bits
If there's a theme of the my last two weeks it's definitely wetter. I've gotten into lakes and rivers in a kayak and raft, and I moved 700km north to where the Andes drop into the Pacific ocean causing journeyed clouds to dump a load of rain.
It's also dropped in temperature. Summer seemed to end overnight and the tips of branches are showing glimpses of autumn's arrival. I thought I could outrun the seasons but apparently not.
I've mainly been travelling by thumb. It's been easy and hard. Most times I've waited less than an hour, but in Cerro Castillo I slogged it for four hours in a snow storm before a petrol tanker picked me up. I've also hitched rides in a kayak guide's 4x4, the motorhome of some Chilean grandparents (think De Niro in Meet the Fockers, but he's from Santiago), and with the ex-wife of a Boca Juniors player.
I was actually forced into hitch-hiking by the Chilean buses. My ticket said 'opposite the petrol station', but there was no sign, no bus, and after an hour of running round the town I figured hitching was easier, and I've stuck with it since.
It was uncomfortable to begin with but I've grown into it, sticking my thumb out for anybody with shameless desperation. And I've learned to read the signals from drivers who continue to fly on past me:
- One finger pointing upwards, rotate from the elbow: Only a short journey, I'm coming back sorry
- Spread fingers into claw, turn palm downwards, mime to each of the seats: Car is full sorry
- Hand up, resting on the steering wheel: No explanation needed but I wish you well compadre
- Avoid eye contact, scratch cheek nervously: I could take you, but you look like a soaked gringo and I don't want to dirty my car, sorry not sorry
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My fortnight started with kayaking on the still waters around the Lago General Carrera marble caves. It was tranquil and so relaxing to be on the water. It felt peaceful to bob around as we admired these huge marble structures formed through thousands of years or erosion, and the morning light dappled the mountains across the lake. My second trip on the water was a little different, this time in Futaleufú...
Futaleufú is world renowned for white water rafting. It has some of the best class V rapids in the world (the gnarrrliest you can do in a boat), and as we entered town on a day of torrential rain I did wonder, won't the river be a litttle strong? Nope, good conditions for rafting they said. But wow, I wasn't prepared for the power of this water. We glimpsed the first oncoming rapid from our piddly yellow dinghy and the boat gasped. I'd never seen water like this, let alone navigated it in a raft. Our guide Pedro screamed instructions for us to paddle hard and I had throwback to Eshan Shah commandeering our 'beer boat' in the 2014 Oxford Summer Eights. Except this time if we didn't paddle we'd end up in the washing machine, and for all my life I didn't want that. So I paddled until my body was sore. I think I had a smile on my face for some of it, but mainly it was a beating heart and sighs of relief when we got to the other side alive.
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In between boats I visited two more national parks on the Ruta de Los Parques. First Cerro Castillo which had a beautiful four day hike.
On one descent I passed a group of 25 people. I got to the camp and saw an equal number of tents. When they returned, me and a Chilean couple I'd met tried to start a conversation. The group were Wharton MBA students and were some of the rudest most entitled people I've met. After turning up after us to a communal picnic table, they asked if we could scoot up because they had more friends on the way - OK, direct and asked in a weird way, but fair request. Then as we're eating dinner they asked 'how long will you be? because we have more friends coming and none of us have eaten dinner yet'. I nearly spat my food out. Cut to lots of bitching about gringos the next morning.
I hadn't met more of a bunch of entitled pricks, and it sat in such ugly contrast with the generosity of the friends I've made in Chile, where they share everything and exit restaurants with a heartwarming 'que approveche' well-wish as you're enjoying your dinner. That evening I felt strong happiness to be travelling here and learning from a kind-hearted bunch of people instead of in the classroom of a US business school.
From Cerro Castillo I moved to Pumalin Douglas Tompkins National Park, a cold rainforest with steep green mountains which plunge into the sea (half of the territory is land over 60% gradient). It's home to the ginormous Alerce tree which is a cousin of the Californian Redwoods and has been here for 3,000 years, plus an active volcano which erupted in 2008, splitting the town of Chaiten in half and scorching the forests with pyroclastic flows.
Along with Parque National Patagonia it's the other flagship Tompkins Conservation park (beautiful writing and photography of the park here), and in this remote park I could really picture Doug and Kris holed up in the 1990's trying to make their conservation dreams a reality. Their care is exemplified by the campgrounds which have beautiful shelters, bathrooms and hand-carved wooden signs. It was a special place and I loved exploring for a few days in the company of friendly Chucao birds, few humans and a lot of rain.
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I'm writing this dry and with a cat on my lap in the Argentinian town of El Bolson before I walk more this week, then move north into the Lake District.
My love
Jorge
