Adios Chile and last few weeks in Argentina

From Talca I went up north to Santiago, Chile´s capital. Other than taking a walking tour of the city, and watching drunken British folks, I didn{t do much there. I decided to go further north to La Serena, to visit a pinguin colony nearby of the nearly extinct Humboldt Penguins, however the sea was angry that day, like an old man trying to send back soup at a deli. Instead I visited the town museum, where they had a Moai on display.

Moai

From La Serena I continued north to San pedro de Atacama, a dry desert area. There I went stargazing, which was amazing. A French astronomer and his wife, show the sky of the southern hemisphere´s, with great vies of the milky way, and the different constellations. I also got to see Moon Valley, one of those places, which supposedly features a ¨moonish¨ landscape.

Desert

More desert

San Pedro was my last destination in Chile, and I took the bus to Salta, Argentina, through a beautiful road passing through the Andes. From Salta I went visiting Purmamarca, a village around Cerro de los Siete Colores (the hill of seven colors), and Cachi, a pretty village, stopping on the way in Los Cardones national park. Interestingly enough, Cardones, which are the cacti that grace that region of Argentina, are nowhere to be seen in the part of the park that I visited.

Purmamarca and the hill of seven colors

Los Cardones natinal park

Cachi

From Salta I hauled ass to Mendoza, to drink and drive (a bicycle) through the wineries of Maipu. After hitting a few wineries, I was pulled over by a cop, who instead of arresting me for intoxication, mentioned that it´s getting pretty late, and the wineries are beginning to close, so I should head back now. The next day I went to see The highest mountain in the Americas, Mt. Aconcagua. It was pretty high. On the way we also stopped to see Puente del Inca, literally The Inca Bridge. This bridge has nothing really to do with Inca other than being old, just like them. It was actually naturally created by the cohesive force of calcium from the nearby thermal springs.

The south face of Aconcagua

Under Puente del Inca

As always, the rest of the pics are here.

Volcanoes, earthquakes and one mysterious condom

I arrived in Pucon, which is sort of the Chilean Queenstown. The main attraction is scaling Volcan Villarica, an active volcano which looms over the city. The hike up is done in organized tours, since it requires use of crampons and an ice axe. The view from the top is great, and the slide down in toboggans was a lot of fun. Looking down the colorful crater, there´s no lava to be seen, however the occasional rumbling noise is heard, followed by a big puff of white smelly fumes.

Volcan Villarica, as seen from Pucon

View from the top of Volcan Villarica

The fuming crater of Volcan Villarica

After this excursion I had to take a couple of rest days for my sunburned lips to heal (I did put on lip treatment with 15 spf, I get it was too little, too late). Once that happened, I set off to Huerquehue national park. When the weather cleared up a bit, I could enjoy the park´s lakes, following the Las Lagos trail. In the meantime, I had the slightly weird experience of sleeping alone in a refugio/hostel (even the person in charge left).

One of the lakes on the Los Lagos hike

I left Pucon, and headed north, to visit the Malalcahuello-Nalcas national reserve (pronounced MA-LAL-KA-WE-YU). I hiked up Crater Navidad, a volcanic crater formed in a powerful eruption in 1988. The surrounding view was that of a volcanic desert, with some basalt ¨peels¨. Once I finished admiring it, O started up the adjacent Volcan Lomquimay, a much more gruelling task, involving a very steep scree slope. At the top of the volcano I found a metal case containing the ¨Lonquimay Conquest Book¨, which I of course duly signed. The crater of Lonquimay was filled with snow, assuring that here a new eruption was not imminent.

The volcanic desert around Crater Navidad

Volcan Lonquimay

The top of Volcan Lonquimay

My next destination was Talca, a major city, from which I could go to visit the Altos del Lircay national reserve. Against my better judgement, I arrived in Talca after dark. As I was walking from the bus terminal to the address Lonely Planed cited for my choice of hostel, I was a bit worried. The town was dark, the area seemed decrepit, and there weren´t many people around. I finally got to the hostel, only to find an abandoned looking building, with cracked walls, and a graffiti saying something about demolition. I decided to try and catch a cab to go to my second choice of hostels, but after waiting for twenty minutes, I realized this is not a good spot to flag down taxis. I spotted a young man passing by, and asked him if he knows where would be a better place to catch a cab. As we were talking, I also explained my predicament, and he noted that on all probability any other hostel that I´ll try will be closed as well. It seems I forgot to check my map of Chile, otherwise I would have noticed my proximity to Concepcion, the epicenter of the last earthquake. That explained everything. When I noted that this means that I have no place to sleep, he agreed, and suggested to host me for the night. At first I was reluctant, but he seemed like a nice guy, plus it was 22:30 and I really didn´t have any other choice. We grabbed a clectivo (SHERUT) to his house, where we had a very nice conversation, which involved him trying his best to speak slowly, and I trying my best to know Spanish. Turns out 200 people died in the earthquake in Talca. That night he was in a club, and the second floor collapsed, killing 5 people, and wounding him. Then, to my surprise, he said that he knows something similar happened in Israel a while back. In the morning, as I woke up, I felt the bed moving under me. It was a small aftershock. Christian, my host, made me breakfast, and put me on a cab to downtown, to arrange my visit to the national reserve.

The reserve was very dusty, and deserted. As I was setting up the tent, I opened its zipper to find a new condom, in its wrapper, in the tent. I have no idea how it got there. The next day I hiked to Laguna del Alto and Enladrillado. The latter is a flat basalt surface, made up of big stones, carved to smooth perfection. The locals are convinced its for alien landings. I reserve judgement. from there it was possible to see Volcan Descabezado Grande, a volcano that appears to have lost it head (descabezado = beheaded), among other peaks. I got back to my tent, and got ready to leave in the morning, for my next destination: Santiago.

Laguna del Altos

Volcan Descabezado, as seen from Eladrillado

As always, all pics are here.

Other Stuff That C Is For

((This is kinda long, due to the emotional impact certain parts of the post had on me. Sorry))

Okay, first and foremost, I did not have Jabali in Bariloche. After checking everywhere and asking everyone, it seems they ate them all, and there were none left for me. Slightly disappointed, I left for Castro, in the Island of Chiloe. Chiloe is renowned for its old beautiful churches, and delicious seafood, and the unique ambiance. I got to Castro, right in the center of the island, and supposedly the one place that contains all that is so attractive in the island. Having said all this, I should add that all of it didn´t do much for me. Firstly, the restaurant that was recommended to me for seafood wasn´t very good, and the night that I was there they didn´t have the really interesting stuff, such as centolla (king crab). Secondly, getting around the island proved to be slightly problematic, and going to all that effort for seeing one Church at a time seemed a bit too much for me. So I just stayed in Castro for a day and a half, which gave me enough time to check out the old church, and the houses on stilts (palafitos) which the city is famous for.

The Castro church

Palafitos

From Castro I went to Cochamo which is often described as the Chilean Yosemite. In order to get there, I had to get to the godforsaken village of Cochamo, arrange transportation to the trailhead, and hike for 3-4 hours in the rain, in a muddy and slushy trail, crossing several sock drenching streams. When I got there it was too cloudy to really see anything. With nothing better to do, I got to know the local community: climbers, some Americans, some Chileans, all roughly ten thousand times better climbers than I´ll ever be. The main attraction there is the trad routes, but even the sports ones where way out of my league (had I had any equipment to speak of that is). The next day I spent trying, unsuccessfully, to dry myself and my stuff, and waiting for the clouds to clear. In the evening I was notified that tonight we celebrate the end of climbing season, as well as the birthday of the site owner´s lovable 5 year old (the unofficial mascot of the site). The celebrations included a massive sheep asado, as well as a hand puppet show in Spanish, and an improvised musical jam (which included, among other instruments, a dijrido). The kid got his own little climbing wall as a gift. It was pretty awesome (you´ll to take my word for it, as I didn´t have my camera on me).

As the sheep carcases were starting to get chopped, I noticed one of the climbers already had a piece in hand. I asked him how it was, and he gladly passed me the odd looking piece, suggesting I take a huge juicy bite. Only then did I remember noticing the dangling pieces of meat on each of the male sheep. The sly smile on the others´ faces made it clear that I had guessed right. Some of the assadors claimed this was one of the prime pieces. I tried it. It was... soft. The rest of the pieces that I had were more conventional, and delicious.

Asado, an illustration (I´ll spare you the illustration of the part I tried)

The next day, the rain finally abated, I decided to hike up what was said to be the prettiest hike in Cochamo, Arco Iris. Climbing up the muddy steep trail was fun, since it involved several sections of pulling myself over water slick rock faces, using fixed rope lines, over a rather threatening abyss. Fun. I finally got to the top to discover a couple of peaks looming. I assumed, as I saw some rock cairns, that I was supposed to go up to one of them. Therefore, I wasn´t too worried when the cairns disappeared. I just figured I´ll catch the trail again when I´´ll reach the top. After finding my path, which consisted of several ¨shortcuts¨, which to the untrained eye would seem idiotically risky, and dangerously similar to climbing a rock face with no form of security equipment, I made it to the top of the first peak. I saw an alpine lake, Mt. Tronador, and several other peaks. I didn´t see cairns. Somehow, the logical thing seemed to be to climb the other peak. I did that, and again, among the great views, I couldn´t count any cairn. It was getting a bit late, and the thought of getting stranded on a rock shelf overnight didn´t seem that appealing. I tried to find my way down as fast as i could, Which turned out to be pretty slow, since I couldn´t remember the ¨shortcuts¨. I finally made it down to where I last saw the cairns, somehow in one piece. It was really late now, and while it was better to spend the night in the woods than on the rock, I wasn´t too keen on the idea. I half ran, half slid (which means fell on my ass 65 times) down, hoping I can clear the ropes before it gets dark. I finished half rappelling the last section just as sunlight completely disappeared. Now it was just a matter of keeping to the path, using my trusted old head torch. With a lot of luck, I managed somehow to keep to the path (I thing I´m better at it in the dark for some reason), and made it back to the campground. When I arrived I shared my story with the others, who sagely noted that going alone was dangerous. I agreed. They also said that they were there today as well (probably as I was attempting to scale the peaks), saw the peaks and decided it was too far to be part of the route. Now I felt slightly more stupid. To perk me up, they offered some of the huge pot of delicious lentil stew the made. I had four bowls.

Clouds in Cochamo

My ¨path¨

View from the top

My visit to Cochamo ended with a sunny hike back to the village, from where I would try to make my way to Pucon. As always, the other pics can be found here.