Cerro Dorotea

I've had this on my to-do list for a while, and thought it was about time to finish this off.

So after hiking the Torres, I had sometime to kill in Puerto Natales before my kayaking trip.  The owner of Wild hostel suggested hiking Cerro Dorotea, a "hill" just outside of town.  

To get there I had to take a cab to a farm house at the bottom of the hill.  In the house an elderly Chilean woman tried to explain how to hike the hill, which went on for far too long.  I'm at the bottom of the hill and I want to make my way to the top.  It's not that complicated.  I also had no idea what she was saying, except for the word "red" that she repeated many times.

Eventually they let me go and I followed the path across their horse pastures to the start of the trail.  I could see two people way ahead of me, they were two Americans the woman's husband told me about.

The trail up was very steep, steeper than most sections of the Torres, but I hustled along as quick as I could so that I could beat the Americans to the top.  I passed them at about 2/3s of the way.  Hurray!  Then I got complacent and they passed me just as the three of us got to the top.  Bastards.

Cerro Dorotea is right beside the strait that Puerto Natales sits on, and at the top of this hill it was WINDY.  The air seemed to blow right across the ocean, down the strait and hit you like a medicine ball as soon as you created over the top of the hill.  The Americans, Ramsay and Kirsten, medical students on break, and I crept up the hill crouched down and took so precarious pictures at the top.  Dilly had to get a picture at the summit, naturally.  The wind had stripped the top bare of all vegetation so it was really just a bunch of gravel and a weather station up there, but the views of the mountains across the strait were nice.  Overall it was worth it.

The Americans and I chatted on our way back down, animosities (that they probably didn't know existed) forgotten.  At the bottom the wife and her son offered us tea and biscuits in their home, which was kind if awkward, the three of us not able to say much more than "gracias".

We shared a cab back and in town I showed them a good souvenir shop I had found the day before.  Then we parted ways and half an hour later ended up at the same restaurant for dinner.  I didn't say hi until I was done my meal and ready to leave because I was feeling smothered in our new relationship.

Torres del Paine

After a day of wandering around Puerto Natales I was able to email a reputable tour company and arrange a day hike to the base of the Torres.  The Torres ("Towers" in English) are three mountain spires that the entire Torres del Paine national park is named after.

My tour guide Laura (or "laa-ooo-rra", which is how she pronounced it) picked me up at 7:30 in the morning.  There were three other people in my group; Audrey a Frenchwoman around my age and a middle aged Brazillian couple.  

The drive out to the park proper took about an hour and a half.  On the way there Laura told us the forecast today was not good.  We can expect to have rain the whole way up and back, with 70km/hr winds.  If it's cloudy, we may not even see the Torres.  Ohh boy...  

Once we got out to the entrance to the park there was already a long line to get our entrance tickets.  Laura took us past the long line to the desk, argued in Spanish with the park attendant and succeeded in getting us our tickets in about 5 minutes.  Honestly, this part and the drive out there was pretty much what I was paying for.  I was told you really don't need a guide on the trail (and you don't), but to have other people arrange my transport and entrance made the money I spent worth it.  Oh, and the forecast posted in the entrance pavilion confirmed Laura's earlier dire predictions.

Once we were through the gate it was another 15 minute drive to where we would start the hike.  There were some very fancy luxury hotels at the base of the hike.  I had looked them up and spending a few nights there would have cost more than my whole trip.  

The van pulled into the parking lot, we got out, looked up, and.... It was beautiful.  A few odd clouds in the sky, hardly any wind and a comfortable 15 degrees Celsius.  People talked a lot about how much of Chile is covered in "microclimates", the idea being that because Chile is so narrow and is bordered by ocean and mountains the weather is very unpredictable.  In this case the microclimate gods were on our side, and had decided to give a big middle finger to the weather forecasters.  Huzzah!

Laura handed out trekking poles, snacks and our lunch.  I had my own trekking poles because I was just that keen.  Laura explained that the first couple kilometers and the last kilometer are the worst bits, and with that slice we were off.  I wondered what the driver did while we were gone.  Maybe he likes to knit.

The climb took us up the west side of the valley, so the whole way up we had brilliant views of the river that carved the valley below us and the opposite side that was covered in a black sand.  Despite what Laura said, Audrey, myself and Laura found the going to be not so hard and we were making good time.  However, we then realized that we were missing the two Brazillians.  Laura went back to fetch them.  Waiting on the Brazillians became a recurring theme, but I didn't mind.  It gave more time to enjoy the vista and take pictures with Dilly, my stuffed green traveling companion. 

Wait, have I mentioned yet that my niece Julia gave me a stuffed, green dog to take with me?  His name is Dilly and he was always by my side.  Well, by my back.  There is a pouch in the top of my daypack that is perfectly Dilly sized.  I'm pretty sure I have more pictures of Dilly than myself this trip.

Anyhow, the trail up was lovely, not too hard, but also CROWDED.  You were never not in the sight line of at least half a dozen strangers.  And the people hiking up were very diverse and unexpected.  Couples with baby carriers, people in their 70s, whole families and people who I would have thought were far too obese to make the climb, but hell, they were doing it.

Half way up, after about two hours, we stopped at Chileno, the first "Refugio".  This is where people doing multi-day treks setup camps before doing day hikes up to the Torres.  It was a very busy place.  They had bathrooms (but no toilet paper - a good note for anyone planning to go up there), showers, a cooking area and a store.  A store that sold beer, by the way.  While we were there we saw a long train of horses pull up, carrying nothing but cases of beer.  I've heard from others that some people party there way all through the W trek.

After our lunch of sandwiches and fruit we took off.  At this point we were walking beside streams that were run off from the glacier that covers most of the Torres del Paine park.  You could take your water bottles and fill them up right from the glacial stream.  And oh boy, when you're hiking hard you have never tasted water as delicious as that.  It's the only water I've had that tastes better than Yellowknife water.

After some more trekking we got to the fabled "last kilometer".  And Laura was not kidding about that being the toughest part.  I do think she was kidding about calling it a kilometer though, because I think it was closer to two or three.  At this point the vegetation is all but gone, the inclination at least doubles and you are now grappling over boulders instead of idly strolling through the forest.

It was the first time I really felt decently challenged on the hike, but it was mitigated because the whole trek up was a traffic jam.  In many places only one person could fit up the trail at once, so you were often standing to the side to let other people by.  And you will be sick of saying "ola" to.  Every.  Single.  Person. You pass.  

Once up there though, the Torres was just around the corner.  I waited at the top for the rest of the group to catch up and then we all proceed in together.  And it really was quite the scene.  There was a glacial lake right in front of the Torres that was such an odd shad of blue.  Kind of like a teal.  I was told that was because of the sediments in the water.  And up there Laura told us the Torres are much younger than the surrounding rock.  The Torres, she said, are only 12 million years old and were pushed up through the surrounding older rock, which is why they were so much lighter than anything around them.  12 million is nothing geologically speaking, so I've been meaning to double check her figures  but haven't got around to it.

I have lots of pictures there, which do much better justice than my words.

After about 45 minutes we headed back down the trial.  And wouldn't you know it, that fabled rain started about 15 minutes before we reached the parking lot and cooled us off very nicely.

Heavy metal in Chile

... Is big.  There were massive posters everywhere for an upcoming Iron Maiden show and tones of kids were wearing Slayer and Megadeath t-shirts.

Chilean chips

In Chile the potato chips are mostly like what we have in Canada.  Lays, Doritos, etc.  But I had seen these little haystack looking chip things on the shelf beside the Lays, so before one flight I decided to grab some.

Ugh!  They're just little unflavored potato bread sticks!  So DRY.  Chile, you truly have the worst taste in food.

Puerto Natales

Puerto Natales is the gateway to Torres del Paine national park.  It's just a hour and a half away and serves as the jumping off point for day hikes, horseback riding, kayaking and multi day hikes on the W or O trekking routes that take you around most of the park.

So first, the bad.  When I got to Puerto Natales I contacted the company I was doing my kayaking trip with, and the weather was not looking good.  I was supposed to leave on the 15th, and they suggested instead we try for the 16th, but more likely we would have to cut the three day trip down to two days and leave on th 17th.

So that was unfortunate, but I made do.  I stayed at a place called Wild Hostel and the atmosphere was really nice and friendly.  The owner, Jarri, was originally from Helsinki so we got to bond a bit as latitude brothers.

I'm pretty sure that Puerto Natales exists solely as a tourism town.  I didn't see evidence of any other industry, and I walked around the entire town (which only takes about 45 minutes).  The upside is that people were even more willing to deal with my poor Spanish skills, and there was a derth of restaurants, shops and bars to enjoy.  Which is good, because my constantly changing plans meant I had a lot of downtime to deal with.

Honestly, with all of the complications I kept on running into part of me was wondering if this whole trip was worth it.  Thankfully, the next day I did my first excursion into Torres del Paine itself.

Punta Arenas

I feel like I've told this story a lot lately, but here's the quick and dirty version.

I woke up in the morning and tried to check in online and realized the airline had my middle name as my last name.  I called them to fix it and they said they would try.  I headed to the airport and couldn't check in because the name on my ticket didn't match my passport.  Ten minutes after check in closed the airline called me and said it was fixed now. 

Not seeing any other option I booked a brand new ticket, leaving that night.  I did add one more day to my time in Patagonia, so that was one upside.  My flight didn't leave until 11pm however, so I now had to kill 11 boring hours in the Santiago airport.

I got into Punta Arenas around 1am and took a cab into town.  Earlier that day I had contacted my hostel and asked if they could accommodate me arriving between 1 and 2am.  They said no problem, so I was very surprised when I got there at 1:20 and no one was there.  I knocked on the door, rang the bell and called her phone to no effect.  After half an hour I gave up and walked into downtown Punta Arenas with my bags looking for a hotel.  I ended up at the Best Western at 2:30 am.

After that day, things picked up.  In my mini bar I discovered a new brand of beer, Austral.  Until then I had thought that Chilean beer was... Not awful, but not inspired either.  Just a lot of really bland lagers.  But Austral was actually good!  Satiated, I went to bed and enjoyed a very good breakfast at the hotel.

I spent the next day walking around this little southern town.  After Santiago, Punta Arenas (and seemingly all of Patagonia) was wonderfully relaxed.  The people were friendly and very understanding of my broken and irregular Spanish.  It seems that tourism is a bigger part of their industry there, so I think they are more willing to help the tourists out than in the Central Valley.

That evening I hopped on a bus to Puerto Natales, where I would experience the two highlights of my trip.

Santiago, part 2

... where Matt hikes up Cerro Santa Lucia and goes to a Spanish/English mixer.

After my mid-day bus from Valpo to Santiago I checked into my hostel, which I found out was mostly Spanish speakers.  This is the case in a lot of Chile.  Unlike almost every other place I've traveled, the majority of tourists in Chile are not English speakers, they are from other countries in Latin America. I would say about 75% speak Spanish as their first language, then another 10% speak German, French or a Nordic language and the remaining 15% speak English.  So there's a pretty good chance that you can arrive to a hostel where no one speaks your language.

After lementing this (and the INCREDIBLY creaky floor in my room) I figured I should make the most of the rest of my day, so I hiked up nearby Cerro Santa Lucia.  It's not as tall as Cerro San Cristobel but the park and fortifications on the hill and very impressive and visually appealing.  

Afterwards I went back to the hostel to watch some Netflix and enjoy a bottle of wine from my Casablanca valley adventure.  In the dining/lounge area I met the only other English speakers in the hostel (oh, besides Kirk!  But Kirk was very forgettable, so I forgot about him.  If you ever read this Kirk, I'm very sorry.  You may have been very interesting, but in the fifteen minutes we spent chatting you barely made an impression.  Maybe have some interesting anecdotes loaded next time.  You bicycled all around South America, you must have some), who are named Stephen and Dee.  They were British and very interesting (We probably have something to learn from them

Kirk.  After my initial outburst I now realize that I also don't always make the most compelling first impression, so should probably look inward before criticizing others.  But for some reason the British people you meet in hostels are always at least a little bit intriguing. Is it just the accent?  Should we start talking in fake British accents Kirk?  Probably not).

So Stephen mentioned that there was an English/Spanish speakers mixer going on next door organized by an English teacher (Why didn't they tell us about that at reception Kirk?  It would have been nice).  Stephen and I went and quickly met Carlos who ties twelve other Latin Americans for the most exuberant person I've ever met.  Carlos introduced us to some other locals and encouraged us to speak as much Spanish as we could, which started off a not very much and after four or five drinks increased to a pretty impressive amount, although none of the native Spanish speakers could understand what we were talking about.  After a few hours Stephen decided to go to bed and I said that sounds like a good idea and I'm going to bed too and then about a hour after that I left and went to sleep.

Random thoughts waiting for a bus in Punta Arenas

1) Chilean accents are weird/difficult.  I am not the only one who thinks so.

2) Chileans are honest.  A few times I've over paid someone by accident because I've misheard them and they insisted I take back my money.

3)... Except some cab drivers.  They rip me off about 50% of the time.

4) Whoever told Chileans olives and raisins go together is pulling the longest running national prank.

5) Why is it thirteen/fifteen?  It should be threeteen/fiveteen dammit.

6) Chileans use "ciao" instead of "adios". That's... Why?  Why use Italian in this one instance?

7) Patagonia feels much more relaxed than the Central Valley of Chile.  The people and pace here seems more at ease.  It's a nice change.

Casablanca

My new plan was to head to the Casablanca valley, about 30 minutes east of Valpo.  Casablanca is the only wine region in Chile known for its whites instead of its reds.

I tried reaching out to three or four tour operators to get me there.  One got back to me, and said he could do a tour for $300 CDN.  That seemed pretty steep for a visit to two or three wineries.  So I talked to Kent, the owner of my hostel, and he said it was possible to visit the wineries using a bus or collectivo (shares taxi) to get to Casablanca and then taxis to jump from winery to winery.

I headed down in the direction of the bus station that Kent said most collectivos leave from.  I poked around there but couldn't find one, so then I asked at the bus station information desk about buses to Casablanca and they said one was leaving in an hour.  I had already spent 45 minutes on my search and the day was getting short, so I grabbed a cab for a relatively outrageous sum (40 times what the bus fare would cost).

My first stop was Casas del Bosque.  It's a very pretty winery.  There was a tractor-pulled wagon that does little tours around the grounds, although I didn't opt for that.  It looked like a winery you could see in Canada, but with a Latin style to it.  I went to the front desk and asked if they had a tasting available.

I should probably interject here that visiting wineries in Chile isn't like it is in Canada.  You are expected to book a tour of the winery at least a week in advance and that tour would last two hours and include a tasting of a few wines.  The tours begin according to a set schedule, which isn't really my thing.

Instead I showed up at Casas del Bosque and asked what they had available.  They had a tasting starting in 40 minutes, so I did that.  

They lead us into a very nice tasting room.  It was me, two couples in their 30s and their wee babies and a couple of retirees.  They were all American.  Or at learnt I assume.  They exuded a very "American" bearing.  

Anyway, we tasted four wines.  They were all pretty good, with my favorites being the Chardonnay and the Syrah.  That being said, it wasn't mind blowing wine.  But still good enough for me to buy two bottles of Chardonnay.

After the tasting I asked the front desk to call me a cab to take me to the next winery.  They called around and... There weren't any.  Somehow every cab in this tiny Chilean town was occupied.  Not sure what to do at this point, the very nice lady at the counter talked to some of the tour bus drivers on my behalf and found one willing to drive me to Kingston Winery.

Kingston Winery is a much smaller winery than Casas del Bosque.  It actually started out as a wheat farm.  The owners (who were from Michigan) saw some potential in the late 90s for winery in part of their massive estate, and Kingston Winery was born.  The Kingston facilities were less impressive than Casas del Bosque, but they really made up for it with a very friendly host, Francisco, and a beautiful view.  While the Casas del Bosque experience had a very corporate feel to it, Kingston felt much more relaxed.  Fransisco ambled around the grounds and wine making facilities with us and was not hesitant to top up our glasses if we found a wine we especially liked.  Fransisco stuck around after the winery actually closed, chatting with me and the other guests; a couple of Montanans, a Brazillian sommelier and his girlfriend.

The Reds at Kingston were better than the Whites, so I nabbed a bottle of Syrah and grabbed a ride back to the main square of Casablanca with the Montanans from my tour.  Soon after they dropped me off the elusive Casablanca bus popped up and I paid a ridiculously low fare to get back to Valparaiso.

Casablanca

My new plan was to head to the Casablanca valley, about 30 minutes east of Valpo.  Casablanca is the only wine region in Chile known for its whites instead of its reds.

I tried reaching out to three or four tour operators to get me there.  One got back to me, and said he could do a tour for $300 CDN.  That seemed pretty steep for a visit to two or three wineries.  So I talked to Kent, the owner of my hostel, and he said it was possible to visit the wineries using a bus or collectivo (shares taxi) to get to Casablanca and then taxis to jump from winery to winery.

I headed down in the direction of the bus station that Kent said most collectivos leave from.  I poked around there but couldn't find one, so then I asked at the bus station information desk about buses to Casablanca and they said one was leaving in an hour.  I had already spent 45 minutes on my search and the day was getting short, so I grabbed a cab for a relatively outrageous sum (40 times what the bus fare would cost).

My first stop was Casas del Bosque.  It's a very pretty winery.  There was a tractor-pulled wagon that does little tours around the grounds, although I didn't opt for that.  It looked like a winery you could see in Canada, but with a Latin style to it.  I went to the front desk and asked if they had a tasting available.

I should probably interject here that visiting wineries in Chile isn't like it is in Canada.  You are expected to book a tour of the winery at least a week in advance and that tour would last two hours and include a tasting of a few wines.  The tours begin according to a set schedule, which isn't really my thing.

Instead I showed up at Casas del Bosque and asked what they had available.  They had a tasting starting in 40 minutes, so I did that.  

They lead us into a very nice tasting room.  It was me, two couples in their 30s and their wee babies and a couple of retirees.  They were all American.  Or at learnt I assume.  They exuded a very "American" bearing.  

Anyway, we tasted four wines.  They were all pretty good, with my favorites being the Chardonnay and the Syrah.  That being said, it wasn't mind blowing wine.  But still good enough for me to buy two bottles of Chardonnay.

After the tasting I asked the front desk to call me a cab to take me to the next winery.  They called around and... There weren't any.  Somehow every cab in this tiny Chilean town was occupied.  Not sure what to do at this point, the very nice lady at the counter talked to some of the tour bus drivers on my behalf and found one willing to drive me to Kingston Winery.

Kingston Winery is a much smaller winery than Casas del Bosque.  It actually started out as a wheat farm.  The owners (who were from Michigan) saw some potential in the late 90s for winery in part of their massive estate, and Kingston Winery was born.  The Kingston facilities were less impressive than Casas del Bosque, but they really made up for it with a very friendly host, Francisco, and a beautiful view.  While the Casas del Bosque experience had a very corporate feel to it, Kingston felt much more relaxed.  Fransisco ambled around the grounds and wine making facilities with us and was not hesitant to top up our glasses if we found a wine we especially liked.  Fransisco stuck around after the winery actually closed, chatting with me and the other guests; a couple of Montanans, a Brazillian sommelier and his girlfriend.

The Reds at Kingston were better than the Whites, so I nabbed a bottle of Syrah and grabbed a ride back to the main square of Casablanca with the Montanans from my tour.  Soon after they dropped me off the elusive Casablanca bus popped up and I paid a ridiculously low fare to get back to Valparaiso.

Mendoza... Kinda

So after three-ish days in Valpraiso my plan was to go to Mendoza in Argentina. I got up early and walked to the bus station.  When I got there I checked with the Andesmar ticket desk and they said something along the lines of "no sale" which I took to mean the bus hadn't left yet.  Afterwards I found out that no, that meant the bus was NOT coming, ever.  Apparently the pass through the Andes was in danger of a landslide so the pass was closed and the bus was canceled.

So at that point I was stuck in Valpo and had to make a new plan.