Less Than Impressed In Castro

Hi Everyone

Bare with me during this blogpost as the keyboard I am using is missing a few key elements, such as particular capital letters and the exclamation mark, which I tend to use quite often.  However, lucky for me, the last few days have been less than exciting.  I am trying not to be critical but just plain honest.  And honestly, Castro and the surrounding area in Chiloè have been less than impressive.

On Monday, we arrived in Castro, which is the capitol of Chiloè and after getting settled in our hostel, that is actually quite comfortable, Falco and I took a walk around the city in order to see the ¨sights,¨ of which there are few.  The big attraction in these parts is definitely the palofitos, which are houses on stilts near the water.  In the photos I had seen previously the houses look colorful and lively.  However, in person, they looked dirty.  Maybe it was because the water was not very high, which takes away some of the charm... Anyways, those were a little bit of a let-down.

On Tuesday, we decided to go where our tour books and fellow friends who had traveled to Chiloè told us to go - Dalcahue and Achao.  Dalcahue is a small town near Castro that was supposed to have a stellar market and is also the port city to go to Achao, which is on a nearby island.  Sadly, the market was less than stellar.  The attraction in Achao?  The oldest church of all the churches in Chiloè, which are famous for weathering all the earthquakes Chile has had in the past.  Impressively, this church was built in 1730 by the Jesuits.  While the fact that it is still standing may be impressive, the church itself is not.  Bummer.  ajor bummer.  Even though the sights were less than exciting, Falco and I did manage to have a good time and I even learned a few words in German.

That leads me to today, Wednesday.  Well, on our last full day in the area the only thing to do was go to the national park.  As you all may know, I am not too much of an outdoorsy type girl.  I would not declare myself a girly girl, I can get dirty and play in the mud, so to speak, but bugs really are not my thing and generally nature does not get me too excited, unless it`s something crazy, ya know?  So I am probably not the best person to judge this national park, but there was a beach, which was cool.  Nevertheless, Falco and I walked around for awhile and did the main tourist treks.  Then, we headed back to Castro and our hostel, where we made pizza for dinner.  Is it sad that that was probably the highlight of our day?  For the record, it was good pizza.

And tomorrow... well, tomorrow Falco and I part ways and we are once again ridin` solo. Needless to say, Falco and I have had a blast together, especially when we were a group of three with our English friend Amanda, whom we miss quite a bit.  At the crack of dawn, Falco takes off for a long bus ride to Bariloche, Argentina while I take a different route.  In fact, it is quite different from my original itinerary, according to which I, too, was supposed to go to Bariloche.  However, after talking to different people and doing a lot of thinking, I opted not to cross over to the Argentine side, but instead take a ferry, called the Navimag, from Puerto Montt to Puerto Natales and then go to Punta Arenas, which is my final destination.  The ferry is quite large, holding more than 300 people, and the trip in total will last three nights and four days.  Although it was a little pricey, at least on a backpacker`s budget, it will definitely be worth it.  I will be able to sit back, relax, and let someone else take the wheel for awhile.  Plus, I will be able to see a part of Chile and of Patagonia that is only visible by ship.  Here is the website for those of you interested in a more in-depth itinerary - Navimag Itinerary

Oh, and that`s the map of my route.  Pretty cool, eh?  Well, that is the general update and now you have an idea of where I will be headed.  Sadly, this ship does not have internet, no surprise there, so I won`t be able to blog for the next five days or so, but that`s probably okay.  I bet you all are desperate for a break from my blogposts.  Haha.  Hope you all are doing well.  Stay tuned for more updates on my journey to the End of the World.

Un besito,

Ciao

Marisco Overdose in Ancud

Well, I am no longer in Puerto Varas.  Actually, I am no longer on mainland Chile either.  Instead, I am on the grand island of Chiloé.  Chiloé is known for its mysticism, interesting food, and a completely different culture from Chile.  Today, we got a bit of a taste of that new culture.


Falco (my German friend, with whom I have been travelling recently) and I arrived in Ancud, Chiloé yesterday.  Luckily, we are staying at the same amazing hostel as our English friend Amanda.  (We all met in Pucón.)  Yesterday was also Falco´s birthday so we went out to eat in order to celebrate. Since Chiloé is famous for its seafood, Amanda and I decided to try paila marina, which is a type of soup with lots and lots of shellfish - clams, oysters, etc.  The first half of the dish was delicious, but by the time we got halfway through, we didn´t even want to look at another marisco let alone eat one.  Nevertheless, the dish at least deserves a 6 on a 10 point scale.


However, paila marina was just the beginning.  Today, Falco and I went on a mission - to eat curanto, the typical dish of Chiloé.  What is curanto exactly?  Well, for starters, it is cooked in a half a meter deep hole in the ground.  Yes, hole in the ground.  Anyways, the place to go for traditional curanto is about 13km away in a town called Quetalmahue.  In order to get there, Falco and I tried out hand at hitch hiking, which is quite common and popular down here.  Don´t worry, Mom and Dad, we didn´t actually hitch hike because before we found a random stranger going our way, a colectivo stopped for us.  


Okay, so we get there and immediately a man flags us over to his restaurant, which ended up being in the Lonely Planet guide (score!), and sat us down at one of his tables.  Curanto was already in the ground cookin´.  So how do you make curanto?  Well, I´m no expert but what I gathered was this:  First you get the stones heating up in the hole in the ground.  Once those are to the right temperature you add all the ingredients, which include potato bread (a Chiloé thing), chorizo, lots of mariscos (yes I ate more mariscos - I officially have a marisco overdose), chicken, potatos, and even some ribs.  Then all the food is covered with these huge leaves from the nalca plant.  Believe me, these leaves are enormous!  After everything is set, you let it cook for two or more hours.  It is truly an incredible process.  And once again, I found myself eating mariscos as well as delicious chicken, sausage, and ribs.  


As it turned out, we ran into two other guys from our hostel, who were also in the market for some curanto.  So we pulled two tables together and had a feast.  Afterwards, as stuffed as we were, we decided to go for a little drive on the nearby peninsula-island.  Now gives me the perfect opportunity to describe how beautiful this part of Chile is.  Beautiful is an understatement, believe me.  We all agreed that Chiloé is what we would expect Ireland or England to look like - green everywhere, normally dreary weather, large cliffs/bluffs overlooking rocky and cold water.  Gorgeous.  And when we arrived at the beach, we were even more stunned.  I cannot even begin to describe it all in words.  So you will all have to wait for my pictures, which will do it less than justice.


When all is said in done, I am falling in love with Chiloé and this isn´t even the half of it.  Tomorrow we head to the capital of Chiloé, Castro, where there are houses on stilts and beautiful wooden churches that have withstood earthquake after earthquake.  There is also a national park that we hope to check out.  And of course an amazing artisan market that I wouldn´t miss for the world.  So much to see and so much to do!


Hope you all are doing well back home.  I miss you all soo much!


¡Ciao!

Just Do It, Sin Pensar

Alright ya´ll... I got yet another story for you blog-readers out there.  I am currently in Puerto Varas in the part of Chile considered the Lakes District.  Puerto Varas has a lot of character (as well as tourists) and may even be considered quaint.  The past few days I have been wandering around, even visited the nearby town of Frutillar, and just enjoying life.  And even missing home a little.  ¿Por qué?  Well, even though this region has a lot of German influence (reminds my German friend Falco of his native land just a smidge), I really think this region also has a lot of Iowa influence.  Yes, that´s right, Iowa.  The other day on the bus I looked out the window and saw the familiar sight of cornfields!  Additionally, the countryside with its houses and trees draws an incredible resemblance to the great Mid-West.  So without even leaving Chile, I feel as if I have been back to Germany and, above all, back to Iowa.  Of course, the enormous mountains in the background as well as the volcano brought me back to reality as much as hearing the person next to me ramble on in Spanish.  Nope, not exactly Iowa... or Germany for that matter.


Anyway, I digress...


So the BIG story... Well, add another notch to my belt of Chilean adventures because this afternoon I went CANYONING.  Don´t worry, the first time I heard the word canyoning I didn´t have a clue either.  And honestly I still really don´t have a clue of what exactly canyoning consists.  But I´ll tell you of what my canyoning experience consisted.  Lucky for me, my German friend Falco once again accompanied me on this little aventura.  


After getting fitted for our special shoes, socks, and wetsuits, we loaded everything up in the vans and headed for the nearby national park.  (Beautiful scenery by the way)  About an hour to an hour and a half later, we had arrived.  So we put on our gear (wetsuits definitely aren´t my favorite fashionwear but I was glad I had something to keep me warm in the icey water) and trekked up a ways, perhaps half an hour.  Then, we arrive at the top of the river in order to work our way down it.  First step?  Jumping, oh, maybe three meters into the river.  Three meters may not sound like a lot but even this gave me a little bit of fear.  Is the water deep enough?  Will I hit the rocks at the bottom?  Heck, will I hit the rocks on the side of the cliff?  JUST DO IT!  SIN PENSAR!  (Sin pensar = without thinking)  Easier said than done, guys, believe me.  Mind over matter and what not, it is hard to forgo your fears and just do it.  However, I just did it... twice (for good measure).


Whew!  That was fun.  Then we worked our way down the river a bit more and did some tobogganing down some mini waterfalls.  That was a rush!  The water just sucks you down those things and you come up spitting water.  (I still have some in my ears...)  Ten minutes later we were yet again at another jump.  This one, in my opinion, was worse.  It wasn´t any higher but as you are standing there looking down, you see big rock jutting out from where you are jumping.  It took the guides some smooth talking to convince me that I was not going to hit the rock when I jumped into the water... I didn´t.  More tobogganing, more tobogganing, more tobogganing... Then we get to this little spot in the river with pooling water and what not.  This is where we defy gravity and do some matrix moves off the walls of the cliff.  My moves didn´t work out as nicely as some of the others, but falling into the water was nice.  Literally, they wanted me to run sideways on the wall of this cliff... Are they crazy?!  Well, yes, the answer is yes, because next we get to the biggest jump of the day, at least twenty (?) meters, maybe more but I´m bad at guesstimating.  Oh. My. Goodness.  Did that take some smooth talking or what?  Finally, I just said to myself, Sarah, you are going to jump off this cliff into this water that they claim is deep. You are going to do it and you are going to do it in 3... 2... 1...  *loud scream here*  Even thinking about it right now makes me have to pee a little.  (TMI?)  


Okay, whew, that part is over, kinda.  Now we are going to do some repelling down a forty meter waterfall... No big deal.  Or so I thought.  My logic was that this definitely would not be as scary as doing some free-falling into water because I would be hooking up to rope and my feet would be touching the side of the wall the whole time.  Nope, not quite.  After two meters down, the rocks disappear and you are just hanging as you let yourself down by rope.  However, this went quite well for me.  Nice views.  Control over my speed.  All is well.  Of course, I had mental nightmares of the rope breaking, or me losing my grip, or the bolts in the rock above just coming unhinged.  The guy hanging next to me even commented about how terrible it would be if there was an earthquake.  Thanks, Tomás, thanks.  But I made it, only to find out I had to jump fifteen meters or so into the water below.  3... 2... 1... Just do it!  Sin pensar!  *Kerplunk!*  


As scary as all that was, it was some of the most beautiful scenery I have ever seen.  And can we talk about that waterfall?!  Amazing that I was just hanging in mid-air going down the side of that sucker.  Once again, however, I am on solid ground thanking the Lord profusely for delivering me once again home safely.  First the volcano and now this.  I wonder if He is up there thinking Oh no, here goes Sarah again, is she out of her ever-loving mind? gotta go make sure she doesn´t kill herself.  Haha.  Anyway, just another day in the life of this lucky gringa travelling down to Patagonia...


¡Ciao!