Ferry to Puerto Chacabucco, Puerto Aysen and eventually Coyhaique

This was the route our ferry was going to take from Puerto Montt to Puerto Chacabucco



In Puerto Montt after being afraid we had missed the boat we finally figured out that we had to check in at the office and made it onto the boat. We waited an hour or so before setting sail along the coast past miles of mountain scenery.































We shared a cabin with a Chilean lady and her Mum and also the little grandson Thomas.



In the morning it was a lot more overcast and misty than the night before. We had slept well in our little bunks though and had breakfast provided which was nice.











When we arrived in Puerto Chacabucco we still had no idea where were going to stay or how we were going to get to Puerto Aysen or Coyhaique. We had to wait for ages for our bags which were handed out using the ridiculous system of one man calling out the number on each bag and waiting for someone from the crowd of 40 people to have the corresponding ticket. It was really quite frustrating as everyone would have been able to recognise there bag if they just put them in a pile.

Anyway whilst Jodie was doing a good job staying patient and retrieving our bags I managed to spot a bus to Puerto Aysen and get us two seats. So when my bag eventually emerged and we grabbed it we were able to hop on the bus and travel to Puerto Aysen. From there where we thought we would have to stay we founf there was a bus at 9:30 pm to Coyhaique. (in 25 minutes). So we got on this bus and arrived by 10:30 in Coyhaique which we didn´t think would be possible. We walked around to try and find a hostel but by 11pm we resorted to staying in a hotel oin the main street. We had got to Coyhaique the day before Christmas Eve!

Chiloé

We had an extra couple of days to wait to get our boat down to Peurto Chacabucco so we decided to visit Chiloé. So we got the bus from Peurto Montt which went across to the Island of Chiloé on a car ferry.



Once in the town of Ancud we had a bit of a trek from the bus but were pleased to find a lovely campsite over looking the sea on the cliff tops.





We put up the tent and had a job lighting our fire but in the end managed it and made a lovely tea of noodles and sausages!









The next day it was really sunny, so as the museum was being fumigated (much to Jodie´s dissappointment) we decided to go for a walk along the coast in glorious sunshine.



















After a couple of days we headed back to Puerto Montt to catch the ferry in the evening.

Puerto Montt

We arrived at the bus terminal in Villaricca to get the ´Buses Jac´ bus to Puerto Montt. Unfortunately we discovered on the way that our Pisco we had been lovingly carrying since Ica in Peru had smashed in Jodies bag. Just a week before Christmas when we planned to drink! Damn. We put our dissappointment aside and munched on a Super 8 on the way to Puerto Montt.

Puerto Montt was very grey and drizzly when we got there. We arrived at ´Rocco Backpackers´and were greeted by a nice lady and her little dogs dressed in Christmas outfits. Then we went out for a look around:







We discovered there wasn´t a boat down to Puerto Chacubucco until Wednesday (and it was only Sunday) So we would take a trip to Chiloé for a couple of days! We spent the Sunday looking for some waterproof trousers for Jodie in the shopping centre where we listened to a choir singing Carols. Then we walked the other way along the bay to Angelmo where we saw a seal.

Pucon, Camping and Volcan Villarrica (or the day we stared DEATH in the face)

We got an overnight bus down from Santiago to Pucon in the Lakes District (in Chile that is, no Kendal Mint Cake for us unfortunately).

Despite the fatigue, we were glad to be rolling out the tent and justifying having carried it for 6 weeks. After managing to shake off yet another pack of wild dogs, we made quite a nice little camp, with a washing line and space for the Honey stove, and there was even a picnic table! There was also a gang of school children on a day trip, running amok around the campsite, screaming and kicking balls everywhere. So after a lovely hot shower we went for food and a wander around the town.









We strolled down to the lakeside and took another dog for a walk along the black beach before turning around an finally realising that there was a massive, smoking volcano behind us! It was really beautiful from this distance.







We bought a map and decided that we would hike from the town up the volcano the next day, and camp at the first campsite before coming down the following day and hiking to Villarrica, the next town. So we set off around 9.30 the next morning with all our bags loaded (and very, very heavy).





After walking for about 3km uphill we were starting to wonder whether we´d bitten off more than we could chew, but luckily a chap came along and picked us up, taking us to the edge of the National Park. There we registered with the Park Rangers and began our hike again with renewed enthusiasm, congratulating ourselves at having bypassed a huge chunk of the walk. However, after another few km of walking uphill under bags we were again pleased to be picked up and taken to the trail head which was a further 6km or so away. Thank god we had all these lifts or we wouldn´t have reached the start of the trail!





So about 2.30 we set off on what was labelled a 4-hour trek around a quarter of the circumference of the volcano, just below the snow line. The views were spectacular and we could see 4 of the lakes of the Lake District in one go.







However, the going was a bit tricky, and the trail hard to follow alternately across lava flows and snow falls, and our bags were getting heavier all the time. Just as were expecting to reach the camp site (and as it was 6pm we were starting to wonder), we suddenly lost the trail and found ourselves looking at a deep, wide valley carved by an ancient lava flow, which stretched on down the mountain and into the distance, further than you could see. We hunted for the trail or the campsite but decided that there was nothing for it but to walk down the lava flow and see whether we could reached the camp site there before nightfall.

We walked for another hour or so down hill, through this scary landscape. The lava flow was as wide as two motorways and had cut a deep valley with sheer cliffs either side of us topped by thick woodland, which we couldn´t have reached if we tried. I got quite scared and have to admit, cried quite a bit. Eventually it was clear that we couldn´t make it off of the mountain, or to a campsite that night, so we made our camp on the lava flow and had some dinner and went to bed.



The next day, I was still pretty scared, as I couldn´t imagine that we would ever get off the volcano, but Rich was very calm and we started walking at about 8.30. I was so happy to spot first a telegraph pole, and then the road down to the next town.



I had foolishly said that I would walk all day long with that heavy bag, as long as I was on some kind of road. This turned out to be a bit rash though, since we DID have to walk all day, for 7 hours, until we reached the main road and could flag down a taxi to take us to town.

We were pretty much dead on our feet, and couldn´t have walked further, but a lovely taxi man took us to a Swiss-run hostel in Villarrica, where we spent the next two days recovering in a chalet heated by a little wood burner.