Day 8-10: Punta Arenas

Thus far I am not impressed with Punta Arenas. When I arrived it was rainy and depressing. I hoped that sun would improve the city, but it hasn´t. I was not suprised when Greg, my unofficial tour guide, told me that Punta Arenas is unaffectionately referred to as Puta Anus.

My main complaint is that there are all these beautiful colonial buildings that have been left in a horrible state of disrepair. Imagine the French Quarter after it has been abandoned for several years. The only layer of paint not peeling is the grafitti that covers the walls of nearly every building. The only buildings that appear to have been spared from the spray can are the mansions that surround the Plaza. And most of these building have not been preserved as museums, but have instead been turned into banks, restaurants, and travel agencies.

A few redeeming factors, though, are the Avenues lined with meticulously groomed juniper trees, an enormous cemetary, colorful churches, and the Strait of Magellan. As strange as it may sound, the cemetary is really impressive. The gravesites range from rows of buildings that have graves stacked two stories high, to gardens with real and/or fake flowers, to statues and monuments, to family mausoleums, and finally to miniature churches. No matter how humble the grave is though, there are always pictures and an assembly of knick knacks surrounding it.

Yesterday I went to Seno Otway, a magellanic penguin colony. It was really surprising. As the bus got close to the entrance, I wondered if I had gotten on the wrong bus. Instead of the ice and snow I expected, the terrain reminded me of south eastern Idaho. It was desert-like with sagebrush-type bushes and weeds. Then there was the exotic mix of fauna: penguins, of course, sheep, ostriches, and dolphins. With the exception of the penguins, there were no arctic animals around.

The penguins were amusing. It was the time of year that the baby penguins lose their baby fuzz. They spent a lot of time bending their neck backwards preening. My favorite, though, were the ones playing in the water. The fearless ones dove in without hesitation like an armless child on a slip-n-slide, but the other ones timidly stuck their heads in the water and then belly-flopped into the water.

I spent my last day in Punta Arenas taking a cruise down the Magellan Strait to Isla Magdelana. Although the island itself was nothing to write home about (hee-hee), every square inch of it was covered with penguins.

Day 5-7 Torres del Paine

After my last entry, I flew into Puntarenas and caught a bus to Puerto Natales. By the time I got there, it was late and I only had a few short hours to organize my trip to the Torres del Paine National Park. I ran around frantically searching for a map, renting camping gear, buying bus tickets, and buying food from the very limited selection at the only open grocery store (I had to be very creative).

Because of the short time that I have on this trip, I had decided to hike the W circuit (4-5 days) instead of the full circuit (12 days). The W consists of three 8+ hours hiking up into the mountains, seperatated by two 4-6 hours hikes across the mountains. The major attractions, besides the already beautiful scenery, are the Torres del Paine, Cuernos del Paine, and Grey Glacier.

I was so excited the night before I left, I could barely sleep. The two-hour drive the the park entrance was surprisingly unimpressive. A lot of desert. There were a handful of wild lamas though. Then, all of the sudden, we were approaching this huge, beautiful purple mountain-range. It was a perfect, sunny day. For the first three-and-a-half hours, I was unstoppable. I was making great time and could not make myself stop for a break. I tried to break for lunch, but I only took about three bites of my leftover pizza before I decided to eat lunch when I got to the top. There was plenty of fresh river water along the trail.

But about an hour before the summit the steep trail turned into a steep field of boulders. The scrambling took its toll on my already weak knee, and by the time I reached the top my knee was on fire. The Torres, huge pillars of mountain extending from a milky aqua lake into the clouds, were so breathtaking though that I temporarily forgot about my pain. I spent about an hour just looking at them and the strange shapes the clouds took around them and snapping photos.

It was a very slow descent. A nice german boy, Benjamin, took pity on me and walked the last two hours with me. When I got back, I made a hotdog pizza--pita bread, packets of tomato sauce, processed parmesan cheese, and cut up hotdogs. It was surprisingly tasty (I was famished) and treated myself to a couple of oreos. Then I crawled into my bivvy sack and went to sleep before it got dark (about 9:30).

A note about the bivvy sack: This was the first time I had ever used one. After several renditions, I finally got it to stand. Though stand is really an overstatement. This was an old school bivvy sack that didn´t even have room to sit up, let alone stand. I´m still not entirely sure that it was put up right. It took a lot of wiggling to get in my sleeping bag and an impressive show of acrobatics to get dressed the next morning and out of the bivvy sack. Only after I sommersaulted out of it, did I realize that there was a second zipper down the side! =)

Anyway, I convinced myself that rest was all my knee needed, packed up camp, and headed on day two. I did not get very far before I realized that I was not going to make it, at least not without risking the remainder of my trip. It wasn´t worth the sacrifice, especially when the other sights could be viewed from the bus. So I hiked the hour-and-a-half back to the entrance and caught a bus to the shorter day hikes. I was very disappointed! I did a short hike to the lookout of the Cuernos (horns) of Paine. Although I´m sure it was nothing compared to being at the base, they were still pretty impressive.

Day 3-4 Puerto Montt

I´ve spent the last couple of days in the bustling city of Puerto Montt. The city is built around, as the name suggests, a port. It is very unique though. It looks like a large lake with mountains (and, in this case, an impressive volcano) surrounding it. But its water is ocean blue and it has beautiful waves. If it wasn´t so chilly, I would be tempted to take a dip.

The town is swarming with tourists. I wasn´t as suprised by the amount of tourists, as I was by the lack of Americans. I have only met one couple from the U.S. since I landed in Santiago. It has been nice because I have had plenty of opportunities to practice my Spanish, but a bit frustrating at times. In most of the places I have gone the country or city is very dependant on American tourists. Usually there are throngs of people offering places to stay, places to eat, or tours to go on. That is not so here. I have had to look for these things wherever I go. For the most part I don´t mind. I would rather spend the extra time (and money) for the peace, but it has been difficult finding food.

Today was the first time that I knew what I was getting when I ordered at a restaurant--well kind of. The vocabulary for different items of food is so different from country to country. In other countries the owners have had english menus or spoken a bit of English. Here that is not the case. I order something and hope for the best. Usually I am pleasantly surprised. I have had some interesting meals though--some sort of beans and sauce over spaghetti noodles with an egg sunny side up and a whole sausage on top or a hot dog with guacamole and yellow mayonaise on top.

Today was different though. As I was walking along the port in search of wool mittens, I stumbled upon a fish market that made Pike´s Place look small in comparison. The market was lined with cocineras and I walked into number 93 and ordered Jaiva, the infamous crab. The owner/cook walked out into the market got fresh crab and cooked it. When it arrived, however, I was suprised to see that there was no shell or tools to crack it with. She had done all the work for me, and all that was on my plate was a big pile of crab. Mmmm . . . .

Day Two--Curico

As much as I was impressed by Santiago, I´m not a city person. I decided to catch the first bus to Curico. Alexandra, a girl that worked with me at the Supreme Court, had suggested that I check out this waterfall near Curico called Siete Tazas, and I knew that the area was famous for its wine. It was a short bus ride through field after field of grapes, corn, or sunflowers.

Once I arrived, however, all of the hotels were closed. It was harder to find a place to stay on a Sunday in Curico than it is to find a place to eat on Sunday in SLC! Rather than sleep on the street I decided to catch the next bus to Puerto Montt (12 hours). Unfortunately the next bus didn´t leave until 7:15, which gave me five hours to kill.

By this time, I needed a drink. I walked into the first bar I came across and ordered a taza of wine. Well, I forgot that a taza means measuring cup rather than drinking cup. The bartender looked puzzled, but poured me a shot of what appeared to be homemade wine. =) We had a pleasant conversation and the drink was on him.

Curico is a quaint little town. It has a really beautiful palm-lined plaza with several beautiful fountains. There were also a number of really beautiful, simple churches. My favorite, though, were the colorful houses. They were all built in a row, but each was a different bright color.

On my walk back to the bus stop, Hernan (the bartender) waved me over to meet Javiera. Javiera, was dressed in a bright pink net belly shirt with a powder blue bra underneath. She unnecessarily introduced herself as a homosexual tranvestite. Needless to say, she had several interesting stories. While s/he entertained me with stories and a dance to remember her by (as if I could forget), Hernan served me the most wonderful watermelon. I was a pleasant way to spend an afternoon.

Day One-Santiago, Chile

After months (years) planning this trip, it is almost surreal really being here. The plane was surprisingly small for the length of the flight (almost 12 hours). I must have been exhausted though. I had no problem sleeping for almost the entire flight. I was amazed at the view when I woke up. The clouds were so uniform that I wasn´t sure if they were clouds or the ocean. When we got closer to Santiago, the mountains began peeking (no pun intended) up from the frothy ocean of clouds. I wondered if there were people under the clouds or whether they were fog covering the ground. This question was soon answered when we descended into smoggy Santiago. The air was so thick that you would never know that the city is surrouned by mountains. It makes SLC´s inversion look like a clear day.

I spent most of the first day wandering around. The buildings here have a clear Spanish influence, moderately ornate with bright colors. My favortie sight was Cerro Santa Lucia, a park that is located atop a mountain. There are several building built into the mountain. At the base there is a fountain/building that resembles a three-tiered wedding cake with the Greek god Neptune as the topper. Once you climb that there are several levels of worn, steep stairs. At the top is an amazing view of the city (I wish the mountains were visible).

Right as I was snapping a photo, I felt something crawling up my leg. I went to swat it away. It was a bee! And boy did it hurt when it stung me. Imagine the shocked looks on the Chilean tourists´faces when I cursed loudly and began lifting up my skirt. Fortunately, for me, I had shorts on underneath. What a way to start the trip!