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.