This page describes my trip to Chile and Argentina in Nov 2006. Pictures can be seen at image station albums

I have long been aware of the spectacular glaciers that flow from the large ice sheet Hielo Sur on the Chile/Argentina border area. When I saw American Air was running a reduced miles offer to Santiago I jumped at the chance. I had just enough miles (40 short) of the 32,500 required for this special. Normally most airlines require 50K freq. flier miles to fly to South America.
Note: All prices are given in Chilean and Argentinean Pesos. At the time of my trip 1 U.S $ = Ch. 520 and 1 US $ = 3.3 Arg. peso.

Got dropped off at the PDX Airport in the morning. I was a little worried about the baggage weight and my MSR stove attracting TSA attention but fortunately they overlooked it. The flights up to Miami were uneventful but they had a delay in Miami, so American Air put me up at a hotel and also gave me meal vouchers. Later I would discover they also credited 13000 freq. flier miles so all in all I am very satisfied with the way they treated me.

Sat, Oct 28, 2006 : Arrive in Santiago

Oct 29, 2006 : Santiago, Park San Cristobal

Oct 30, 2006 : Santiago to Puerto Natales

It rained all night long. Casa Cecilia had a corrugated plastic sheet roof over a courtyard-like common area and you could really hear the rain pounding off it. In the morning I felt pretty groggy and tired. The long journey from Oregon and yesterdays trip were all adding up and I felt in no kind of mental or physical shape to start backpacking on this rainy day. So I had the complimentary breakfast (nice homemade bread, cheese, jams and Nescafe). Then I ventured out briefly to the harbor where I saw some black-necked swans. I walked over to the Coast Guard station and the ticket office for the famous ferry from Puerto Montt. After this brief walk along the waterfront I returned to Casa Cecilia and crawled back into my bed. Had a humorous disturbance when the maid barged into my room as I was sleeping, she withdrew with profuse "culpas" and did not venture back in till mid-afternoon. The rain kept pattering on the roof most of the day, lulling me into a hibernative nap. I got up in the afternoon and chatted with an English couple who were waterproofing their gear before leaving on the 2pm bus to TDP. By this time it was raining heavily outside with slushy snow mixed in. I was really glad I had decided to stay. In the evening I cooked a pasta mix I had bought in Punta, just o check if it was edible. It turned out to be quite decent. As I ate my pasta, I chatted with an Englishwoman who had just returned after a soggy trip to TDP. She had gone up to Refugio Chileno but couldn't go to the Torres because of snow. She generously gave me some large black plastic garbage bags with a dire warning that I was going to need them. After dinner I fired up the MSR stove to make sure that it worked. Finally I went out and told the girl at JBA tour to put me down for tomorrow mornings bus. It was Halloween night and apparently the local kids had fully adopted this American custom. They were wandering around in groups in the blustery evening , collecting candy. The girls were mostly dressed as witches and the boys seemed to favor the "Scream" mask. I wandered around town some more, making final purchases for tomorrow as well as scoping out a few hostels and hotels. I found a nice buffet to but was too full from the pasta I had eaten earlier to partake. I spread all my gear out on the 2nd bed and finished up packing. It was one of the heaviest packs I have ever toted. I finished my prep but had a hard time falling to sleep because of excitement. The rain seemed to ease up late at night.

Up bright and early and went down to breakfast. Met a Swiss woman who was also going to do the W in TDP and was by herself. Furthermore she was taking the same bus into the park as me. We were joined by a couple of German girls at the table. They were also going to TDP but only for a day hike. The bus picked us up around 7 and we were off. The day was still quite cloudy but at least it wasn’t pouring rain. We drove around town picking up passengers before heading out. Most of the road to TDP was unpaved but the surface was reasonably smooth or the bus must have had good shocks because the ride was not jolty at all. The terrain was a little more interesting with distant snow-covered mountains. There were also small hills to break the monotony of the mostly flat land. The bus ride took about 3 hours. We stopped briefly at a restaurant in Cerro Castillo for bathroom break. Here we caught our first glimpse of the Paine Massif. Pretty soon we fetched up at the entrance. We passed herds of orangish-brown llama like camelids (Guanacos?) near the entrance. They were quite unafraid of humans and appeared pretty placid. The bust stopped at the guarderia and we got off and lined up to pay the exorbitant 15000 peso park entry fee. Many people took the waiting shuttle to the Hosteria Las Torres. I asked the ranger about weather forecast and options. He suggested it might be better to start from the Glaciar Grey side since the Torres were not going to be visible given the cloudy conditions. That seemed like the logical choice and I was leaning towards starting from that side anyway. By this time The Swiss girl and I had agreed to stick together -- at least for the initial part of the trip. She was pretty tall (6 ft) and thin, in her mid-30s, her name was Veranika and she was from the German part of Switzerland. The bus continued inside the park for about half an hour before dropping us at another ranger station near the boat dock. The boat to Refugio Pehoe was going to leave in an hour or so. The map indicated a nice waterfall in the vicinity so Veranika and I walked over there and checked it out. It was a pretty impressive affair. There was an old washed out bridge over the river emptying into Lago Pehoe. On the return we got anxious as it was getting pretty close to the boats departure time. The boat fired up its engine prompting Veranika to break out into a run. I could only muster a quick walk with my heavy pack. The boat was in no hurry to leave so I got onboard, stashed my pack and then went out onto the deck. As the boat pulled away from the dock we got the first good look at the snow-covered Cuernos shrouded with clouds. The view had an electrifying effect on the crowd since this was the first sighting of these legendary rock towers we had all been fantasizing about. Much photo and videography ensued as the boat headed out onto the lake. The ride to Refugio Pehoe took about 1/2 hour. The Refugio was a very impressive affair with a large lodge, store and camping area. The tent campers had access to a large octagonal kitchen facility as well as hot showers. I quickly finalized my packing while Veranika vanished to get some food. The fabled Patagonian wind was blowing but nothing as bad as I feared. After hiking in the Columbia Gorge in winter it was not that big a deal. The trail to Refugio Grey started out by ascending up a sheltered valley . The slope was pretty moderate but I found myself stopping soon to take off all the multiple layers I had donned in the morning. I should mentioned that I was also packing my 0 degree sleeping bag and was prepared for extreme cold. Probably overkill in retrospect but I didn’t want to take any chances. We made steady progress and soon passed a small lake called Laguna Patos. The scenery up to this point was nice but nothing spectacular. Things got a lot more interesting from here on out. We could see condors circling in the sky. All the rock in this area showed evidence of extensive glaciation with smooth slabs of granite. Essentially we had been going up an old ablation valley. Soon we came to our first view of the Lago Grey. It was an impressive sight with ice bergs beached along its shores. We could see across the vast lake to the mountains on the other side. Behind those mountains lay another gigantic glacier called Geike but unfortunately it was not accessible due to treacherous terrain and private property access issues. The trail kept climbing in a moderate up and down fashion, crossing numerous side streams. We took a couple of snack and photo breaks along the way but made steady progress. The terrain was interesting with patches of lenga forest. Flowers seemed to be in short supply except for the firebush (notro aka Embothrium Coccineum)) that were ablaze with large orange flowers. To the right were snow-covered jagged peaks. We eventually came to a pass where we got out first glimpse of the vast face of Glacier Grey. This prompted much photo-taking and rejoicing. It seemed like we were making excellent time and would soon reach the Refugio. This proved to a gross over-estimation. The scale of things here is so gargantuan that its very easy to make this mistake. It took us over 2 hours from this point to get to the Refugio. Along the way it started to rain, first slowly and then more heavily. Finally I had to dig out the black plastic bag I had procured in Punta Arenas. It took some MacGyver like manipulation with duct tape to get it to stay on my pack but after that it worked like a charm. The final portion of the days hike led down fairly steeply to the refugio. Along the way we ran into this German couple, the girl was freaked out by the wet rock along the trail and walking down it very slowly. Later Veranika found out that it was the girl's first ever backpack trip. This section did have some tricky footing but nothing too outrageous. Soon we saw the welcome sign pointing the way to the Refugio. A little bit of somewhat steep downhill and then we were at the sandy campground right on the shore of Lago Grey. It had taken us about 6 hrs to hike up from Pehoe, the signs suggested 4 hours. All the signs in the park gave distances in time rather than kms. There were no designated campsites but there was plenty of room. The ground was soft, flat and sandy. I pitched my tent under a big lenga tree and secured the tent with extra guy lines. There were some rustic and unstable benches and tables scattered about the place. I commandeered one of them and set up my stove and cooking supplies on it. A guy soon showed up with a sign-in register. I had to shell out 3500 pesos per night for camping. The Refugio Pehoe was considerably more expensive (15000 pesos for a bunk). There were several rustic wood buildings in this campground. One was the Refugio run by Andescape, another was the ice trekking company's hut. Finally there was a small building with a store (almacen), a couple of bathrooms and outside sinks. I took advantage of a few minutes of sunlight to snap some photos from the lakeshore. There were maybe 4-5 tents in total. The glacier trekking people had several tents setup but they were unoccupied. I cooked up some food (Lipton rice and a packet of tuna) and the went into the refugio to eat my dinner. It was pretty nice and cozy with a woodstove, benches and tables. The staff seemed pretty laid-back and had no problem with us lowly tent campers eating inside and washing our dishes etc. I was pretty tuckered after the ling day and quickly hit the sack. After settling in I realized that I had left my camera out on the lake shore while taking pictures. A brief panicked search of the lakeshore in my underwear resulted in the recovery of the camera. I breathed a sigh of relief and returned to the tent and fell asleep. Throughout this trip I exercised extreme caution and locked up my tent with a small lock on the door zipper whenever I left it for extended periods. I doubt it would have deterred a determined thief but it made me feel safer. I didn't have anything stolen as far as I could tell.

Up around 8 am. It was quite cold in the morning so I made my way to the refugio and warmed myself by the stove. Veronica was up already, she had a rough night because her flimsy sleeping bag had not kept her warm. She had a fairly basic tent which she had acquired in Peru or some place and it was clear that it would not hold up in serious rain. She decided that this was the end of her camping adventure and she would stick to refugios for the rest of the trip. We decided to hike up towards Glaciar Grey and decide later whether to spend another day here or pack out back to Pehoe. The day was cloudy but dry and a lot warmer than yesterday. Visibility was reasonable as well. The trail forked shortly after we left the refugio. We decided to go left and soon fetched up at a beautiful cove with gigantic icebergs beached in its shallow water. The face of the glacier seemed a stones throw away but in reality was probably a good 1/2 hours hiking distant. We both dug out our cameras and started shooting. This was the first close encounter with glacial ice and we took our time meandering around this inlet. It was obvious that the glacier had receded but at one time filled this whole cove. This whole area was labeled Mirador Grey on the map. After this major photo fest we explored the glacier-polished cliffs that jutted out towards the face of the glacier. This provided great overlooks of the whole inlet as well as extensive views of the glacier face and the huge sea of ice that extended off into the distance as far as I could see. This was a truly gigantic glacier, the largest I had ever seen. Portage Glacier in Alaska seemed puny in comparison. The glaciers in the Cascades are chickenshit by comparison. We wandered around separately on the rocky cliffs, taking pictures and soaking in the scenery before hooking up back at the trail. The trail was squeezed onto the mountainside due to the glacier and lake so we had to climb a bit to get past this bottleneck. The trail continued to climb in an up-and-down manner that totally characterizes the entire W. Many stream crossings, each involving going into a dip and then climbing out the other side. Finally we reached Guarda Grey. This was a free campground. There was a toilet which was basically a squat-type deal but at least it flushed. There was a side-trail leading off to another Mirador. This trail was quite muddy and steep enough to require scrambling in places, but mercifully short. Pretty soon we were on a dramatic viewpoint overlooking humongous crevasses of Glaciar Grey. This was another photo extravaganza opportunity and I made full use of it. Words can't really describe the immensity of this glacier. After making our back to the campground we tried to find the trail but found it barred by yellow tape and trail closed signs. I decided to ignore that and proceed. It was about 2:30 in the afternoon at this point. Only 15 minutes up the trail we encountered another closed sign that warned of avalanche and rockslide danger in English. I chose to ignore this one as well but as soon as I cleared the top of this section I realized that the warnings were no exaggeration. Ahead of me was a deep ravine with crude wooden ladders anchored with ropes on the other side. The trail on my side was OK but it ended in the ravine filled with snow and avalanche rubble. Above us the ravine transitioned into a very steep gully leading up to the jagged peaks that tower over the glacier. I wanted to cross the gully but Veronica flat out refused. "I go back". I made a half-hearted attempt to cross it but found the unconsolidated rubble was like walking on basketballs made of snow. The idea of crossing this crap, and then negotiating rickety ladders of questionable durability on the other side was not very appealing - especially since I would be alone and an injury could become a major problem. Consequently I decided to call it a day and head back. On the way back we had the consolation of spotting a gorgeous Magellanic woodpecker with a large red head. It seemed totally unconcerned as it hopped around on a tree trunk 15 feet away. I got some good pictures and video footage before it flew away.Another curious thing I noticed here and elsewhere in the park were circular balls of yellow fungus (Pan de Indio or Darwins Fungus) growing on lenga trees. We got back to camp around 5. on the way back we saw the boat come in and drop off more people and give a tour. It was great to see the boat in front of the glacier because it gave a sense of perspective to the sheer scale of this behemoth. It was early enough that I could have packed up and made it at least partially back to Refugio Pehoe but I was feeling pretty tired. My ankle had started hurting already after hauling the heavy pack yesterday and all the hiking today. The trails here were pretty rock and hard on the feet. Consequently I decided to spend another night at this campground. Veronica had already booked a spot in the refugio and quickly moved her stuff in to the building. There were a couple of new parties camping. As I was cooking dinner one of the guys spotted my MSR and came over. He complained that he couldn’t get his stove to work. Turns out he was trying to burn diesel in it! I explained to him that diesel is very hard to ignite. Truckers in Pakistan in winter will take a blow torch to heat up the fuel lines and its still hard to ignite the damn thing. The guy shuffled off to the almacen in search of white gas. After eating I decided to check out the shower facility. I had hauled a towel and shampoo with me and it was time I put them to good use. The shower stalls were pretty basic but the water was hot and it didn't run out even though I took a leisurely 30 minute shower. I was a happy camper after this luxury. Suddenly the 3500 pesos fee didn’t feel so bad after all. I changed into clean clothes and went into the refugio and sat by the stove. I started feeling pretty drowsy with the shower and the warmth from the stove. Veronica was all settled in with her fellow refugio dwellers and they were being served a 3 course meal by the refugio staff. I was feeling very sleepy so I hit the sack and slept like a log.

Up at the usual time. Went into the refugio and had a cup of coffee for $2. The guy in there couldn’t figure out where I was from. When I told him Pakistan, he was totally blown away. Apparently no one from Pakistan had ever passed through here on his watch. He grabbed his mate bowl and we sat by the woodstove and chatted for a while. After eating I packed up and got ready. Veronica was also packing up her belongings after spending the morning exploring the area around the campground. We hit the trail and made much better progress back to Pehoe than on our way in. The initial climb up from the refugio was hard, but after that it was mostly the same old undulating trail that we were getting used to by now. We stopped in the same streambed that we had taken a snack-break in on day1. The wind had been blowing hard all day. It had been the strongest since the beginning of this trip and blew me off-balance a few times but I quickly corrected with my poles. It still wasn't really bad compared to the winds I have experience at Angels Rest when the east wind is blowing through the gorge. There were considerably more people on the trail. Many of them seemed to be day hikers and some were being escorted by guides. It was fun to try to identify them from their gear and clothing. The Germans seemed to like Jack Wolfskin jackets. Spaniards seemed to sport Lafuma gear. Italians had Salewa tents. We took about 4 hours to reach Refugio Pehoe. After reaching Pehoe we dumped our packs by the ranger station and took a break in its lee from the wind. Veronica spoke Spanish much better than me and she held a long talk with the ranger about the Camp Italiano. I couldn’t follow most of it but heard the word "bosque" mentioned repeatedly by the ranger. The g ist of the conversation was that Camp Italiano was well-sheltered from the winds due to the forest of lenga trees. Bosque means wood. I took this as a good sign. It was only 2:30 in the afternoon and it made no sense to me to waste a day camping in this refugio when Camp Italiano was only 3 hours away. However this camp had no refugio so Veronica and I decided to part ways at this juncture. She checked into the Refugio Pehoe and I decided to carry on after a brief break. I spent some time in the cavernous eating area of the Refugio with Veronica and a Dutch girl who was her acquaintance. The Dutch chick had a scruffy looking boyfriend who didn’t seem too keen on the outdoors but was hacking it for her sake. As I was getting ready to leave I met a Japanese American guy from Seattle who was also staying at the refugio. He was the only American guy I met in my entire time in TDP. The bulk of the trekkers there are Chileans or from Europe, mostly Germans and Spaniards with a smattering of other nationalities. After munching on some snacks I bid V farewell and carried on. I was finally on my own but it was not as daunting a prospect anymore, now that I had spent some time here. The trails were well-marked and well-traveled and there were ranger stations and refugios dotting the trail. The trail soon left the refugio and started skirting Lago Skottsberg. The winds were brutal in this area. I had a hard time holding the camera steady for pictures. The upside was that the winds blew the clouds off the summit of the mountain towering above Lago Skottsberg. I got some great shots of the jagged glaciated summit with blue skies. Also the Cuernos hove into view lit dramatically by the sun but with dark grey clouds in the background. I realized that this might be a short-lived opportunity so I made many stops to take pictures. The wind in this section was blowing fiercely and struggling against it made me even more tired. I slowly wound my way past the lake and on towards the obvious gap of the Valle Frances. Above me were towering glacier-clad peaks with waterfalls cascading down. After what seemed like an eternity I finally reached the bridge over Rio Frances. Camp Italiano was located immediately after the scarily swinging suspension bridge. It had taken me close to 4 hours to walk the 8 kms from Pehoe (map said 2.5 hrs). I went straight past the guarderia and found a nice secluded spot at the very upper edge of the camping area near a stream. The area above my campsite was roped off, presumably to protect the water supply to the campground. There was a large PVC pipe with one end in the stream and the pipe seemed to be headed towards the guard-station. After dumping my pack I explored a little and found that the main campground was actually a little bit farther downhill. There was a whole forest of tents sprouted there but the bathroom was still closed. I felt glad that I had chosen a relatively quiet spot. The entire area was well-protected from the winds by a forest of large lenga trees. There was only one German couple camping nearby. Later on a group of three Spaniards (2 guys, 1 girl) would show up and setup camp. After I setup my tent, I cooked a dinner of pesto pasta (Chimpones Pasta Pronto brand) and tuna. The ranger came by and we chatted a little. I asked him it was safe to leave stuff in my tent and he said as long as it was "dentro" (inside) the tent or vestibule it would be fine. He remarked approvingly upon my MSR Dragonfly stove. He had a pretty cozy cabin in the guarderia with a woodstove. Tons of chopped firewood lay around -- solely for his consumption since campfires were prohibited. I took my food to the bridge and ate it sitting on a large boulder in the river. The view up the river to the huge heavily glaciated peak was awesome. A massive icecap covered the summit. In retrospect I should have brought my camera because this was the best view of this mountain. Clouds would close in overnight and stay put for the rest of my trip. After dinner I went as far upstream as I could to filter water, still I found a huge pile of shit and toilet paper just 10 ft downstream from my filtering spot, and right by the stream.

Got up at the usual time. All night long the wind had raged in the trees and I had been a little concerned about a branch or tree falling on my tent. Around 5 or 6 am I had heard a large crash. On getting out of my tent I saw a freshly snapped tree about 50 ft from me. After the usual morning chores, I packed a smaller day pack, put the rest of my stuff dentro and left. It was cloudier today but the peak across the river was still visible. The trail climbed steadily at a moderate grade past a beautiful waterfall. Soon I could see the huge expanse of the French Glacier as it spilled down right to the river. It had weird crevasses fanning out longitudinally. As I was hiking up I heard a thunderous roar as an avalanche of ice and debris tumbled down from the upper French glacier onto the lower one. In the distance the vast turquoise expanse of Lago Nordenskjold spread out towards distant mountains. The lake was bathed in sunlight but the wind was blowing huge 100ft tall curtains of mist across the lake surface. There were quite a few hikers going up. About an hour into the hike, one of the passers-by mentioned that Veronica had been looking for me in the lower campground. Sure enough, she soon hove into view along with her Dutch girlfriend. It was nice to see a familiar face, so we started hiking up together. The trail soon flattened out and started doing the up-and-down thing as we crossed numerous streams. Before long we arrived at Camp Brittanico. The camp was totally deserted. We went a little past it to an open area with a lot of dead trees providing a dramatic foreground to the awesome view of the Cuernos. The weather had been steadily worsening throughout the hike with high clouds moving in from the Pacific (Lago grey) side. We managed to get a few minutes of clear views towards the Cuernos before they were enveloped by mist. Veronica and her Dutch friend decided to call it a day here as they had to camp at Refugio Cuernos. I decided to press on to the Mirador after a snack. I also filtered some water at a nice clear spring here. As I was munching on my trail mix I encountered the British couple from Casa Cecilia. They had left on the really rainy day after waterproofing their pack covers. They were doing the W starting from the Torres side. The trail became quite steep from the dead trees onward but people coming down kept telling me the Mirador was only 15 minutes up the trail. The trail soon flattened out but was covered in snow. I followed the boot track in the snow but it petered out in a stand of lenga trees. I could see that it was headed up the moraine towards the Cuernos but I didn’t want to continue in the fresh snow. I backtracked and ran into the British couple again. They were standing at a rocky viewpoint which was in fact the Mirador. It even had a crude sign that said so, but it was hidden so I hadn't even seen it from the trail. I tripped and fell at this point and bashed my knee fairly hard on the rock. Thankfully it was not a serious injury but my knee would continue to hurt for the remainder of the backpack. The weather had gotten even worse, with clouds obscuring all the peaks on the west side. I could make out that we were close to the head of the Valle Frances. All around were granite spires and peaks that revealed themselves occasionally through the fast moving clouds. The Cuernos formed an impressive wall on the east side, but they were surrounded by misty clouds that made for poor shots. I sat for about 15 minute in the freezing wind hoping that I would get a clear window for some photos but no such luck. It was cold enough that it was snowing a little. Finally I decided to call it a day and head on down. The trail down was pretty steep, the last thing I needed with a hurting knee. However, soon I was back at the dead trees near Camp Brittanico. Even with the bad weather I dug out the camera and my small tripod and took some pictures. It started raining pretty steadily at this point and I just hunkered in my jacket and kept going down as fast as I could muster. Give the lateness of the day I decided that there was no question of moving camp tonight. The rest of the hike out was pretty uneventful. Most of the hikers had already gone down so I had the trail mostly to myself. After getting to camp I just cooked some food, took a couple of Aspirin and hit the sack. It was beginning to get pretty damp in camp even though the trees did protect quite a bit from the rain.

It rained and stormed all night. I felt really unmotivated to get out of the tent in the morning. Every half an hour or so I would hear anoise like rumbling thunder, I finally figured out that it was not the clouds but avalanches letting loose on the French Glacier. Finally the urge to pee overcame my reluctance to venture out and I dragged myself out during a lull in the rain. I had already packed up inside the tent so I quickly finished cooking and packed up the remaining stuff. As I was eating I noticed a curious hawk-like bird with a blue beak. It seemed to be eying my food with interest but still kept its distance. All my neighbors had already left. The Spaniards were heading off to a Refugio away from the W. The weather was the typical TDP mix with a little bit of rain, some clearing, wind etc. I soon left Valle Frances behind and made my way towards Lago Nordenskjold. This lake was an unbelievable turquoise color. The trail finally came out right to the lake on a pebbly beach. It almost felt like a postcard of a Caribbean shoreline apart from the crappy cold weather. I could see the roof of the Refugio Cuernos quite early on but again distances proved deceiving as it took me a good 2 hours from Camp Italiano to there. This refugio was run by a different company which had put up sign boards with distances after every 1 hour interval. It was very useful for calibrating my speed. I dumped my pack outside and went into the refugio to get some shelter from the elements. From here you could see the backside of the Cuernos. I had the $2 cup of Nescafe here as well as some trail mix. The wind outside had become quite strong as it whipped unobstructed across the lake. After spending an hour at the Refugio I started out again. The weather went from bad to worse in this section. Wind, rain and slushy snow all took turns battering me. I dug out all my rain gear, gloves, pack cover etc and trudged along somberly. This was the longest and most ambitious sol backpack I had ever done and it had taken its toll on my knees and ankles. The rest of the trip was pretty miserable. It took me about an hour more than the recommended time to get to the junction with the Torres trail. By this point snow was covering the surrounding hills maybe 300 ft above lake level. This meant that going up to the Refugio Chileno would require pitching a tent on snow. I could take a chance and go stay in the refugio but it might have been be full. Finally I decided to g camp at the Hosteria Las Torres and evaluate my future course of action. I was also getting worried about wasting too much time in TDP and not having enough time for Argentina. After the junction with the Torres trail, I left the national park area and entered private property. Horses grazed in meadows and pastureland. Finally I crossed a bridge and reached the hotel. This was a very impressive building compared to the refugios. By this time I was totally damp and soggy. There was a shuttle about to leave for the park entrance in 5 minutes. I did some quick math and figured out that this would enable me to catch the return bus to Puerto Natales. It seemed doubtful that the Torres would even be visible tomorrow given the crappy weather and snow accumulation above 500 ft. On top of the crappy weather, I just didn’t feel like I would be able to do a long 1000 m hike tomorrow and still make it out in time. So I decided to bid farewell to TDP and make my exit on the 7pm shuttle. All this decision-making happened in the span of like 5 minutes because the shuttle was about to leave. The JBA bus for Puerto was waiting at the park entrance. It was actually a van with a tow trailer for all the packs. We all piled and took off damp clothing. It felt really cold in the van for some reason. I spent the entire return trip wondering if I had made the right decision about leaving TDP. After reaching Puerto I checked into the Hotel Milodon. Then I grabbed my suitcase from Casa Cecilia and dragged it several blocks back to the Milodon. The room I got was OK, it was not as nice or clean as Casa Cecilia but did have a private bathroom and it cost the same (10000 pesos). After showering I spent some time walking about trying to secure a bus ticket for Calafate but all the bus ticket offices seemed closed. I was feeling pretty ravenous but the only buffet in town was closed. I had been fantasizing about it during the latter portions of my backpack so it was a major letdown. Finally I ended up going to a greasy spoon across the street from the hotel. It was called Masay and seemed popular with the locals. I had a burger with a fried egg (churrasco pobre) on it which was pretty decent. I had a hard time going to sleep because the guys next door kept yakking in Spanish till 12:30. The thin walls made it seem like they were talking in my ear. Even thumping on the wall did not deter these buggers.

Up early at 6 am. Rushed around trying to find a bus to Calafate. There was an old woman sweeping the office of Tourism Zaaj who gave me to understand that the bus to Calafate would be leaving at 7 am. I checked out a couple more places but everything else was closed. I rushed back to the Hotel Milodon and packed up. Since there was no clerk on duty I just left the money inside the room and dragged my bags 2 1/2 blocks to the bus office. I made it just in time as the bus pulled around the corner. The ticket was a fairly steep 10000 pesos. After boarding the bus I remembered that I had forgotten my towel. The driver wasn’t too pleased but he let me run back to the hotel and get it while he circled around the town to pick up more passengers. finally we were off. The road was the same as the route to TDP up to Cerro Castillo. After that point we went on a gated road towards Argentina. The customs and immigration stuff went very smoothly. We didn't even have to get off the bus on the Argentina side, the conductor took our passports and the passenger manifest into the office and handled it all. I had earlier had to write my info in the manifest since I had bought the ticket at the last minute. I was curious about the profile of passengers. The vast majority of foreigners seemed to be from Spain, followed by a smattering of other Europeans. I think I was the only US citizen there. The scenery got a little more interesting after crossing into Argentina. We passed some lakes with pink flamingoes in them. The other animals were the usual sheep and the occasional Nandu or condor. The weather seemed to have improved quite a bit and was considerably sunnier and I could see some hills and mountains off to the north. I was still pretty sleepy and tired from yesterday. The movie being shown in the bus was Vertical Limit, supposedly about K2 in Pakistan but actually shot in New Zealand. We seemed to travel along a plateau for a long time before descending steeply towards Calafate. This provided the first views of the gigantic Lago Argentina, which was an unreal turquoise color. Calafate seemed like a nice albeit touristy town. All the bus companies shared a common bus terminal which was located above the downtown area. There was a fairly helpful tourist office inside the bus terminal. They called up Hostel America del Sur to confirm that they had room. The hostel also provided a complimentary taxi ride from the bus terminal. When I checked into the hostel I was met by a bubbly Argentinean receptionist who showed me to my dorm room with 4 bunk beds and attached bath. Two of the beds had some underwear draped on them as a way of marking territory. I grabbed one of the remaining lower bunks. The room was quiet small but I managed to squeeze my luggage into a corner. The hostel arranged for tours as well and the girl gave me the run down on the various options. I chose to do the Upsala/Speggazzini tour which would be an all day affair and cost about $90. After this I walked down the dirt road, past La Tablita and crossed the bridge over a stream to get to downtown. My first objective was to get some local money from an ATM but all the ATMs in town were out of pesos. Apparently they didn’t stock them on Sundays. Furthermore a lot of the businesses in town closed down during the afternoon. I thought this siesta business was no longer the case in Latin America because I had seen no sign of it in Chile. However this custom seemed alive and well in Argentina. After wandering the town hungry and penniless, I went back to the hostel and took a shower. Met my room-mates who were a British couple in their 30s. In the evening we were joined by an 29 yr old Indian guy who took the remaining bunk. I found it a remarkable coincidence that the only 2 South Asians in town would end up in the same room. Around 6 I went back into town and waited in line at the only money changer. The rate was a crappy 3.04 to the $ but this was the only game in town because of the ATM screw-up. I changed 100$ and then found a buffet with a parrilla. The place was run by a Chinese guy and had a mixture of Chinese and Argentinean foods. Stray dogs were even more prevalent here than in Puerto Nat., again really nice looking and friendly dogs. Sometimes they would attach themselves to a passerby and walk along with them like they were going on a walk with their owner. It as a little sad but funny. The dogs seemed pretty cheerful and well-fed so probably not a bad existence. After dinner I spent some time hanging out at the hostel. The Indian dude was busy polishing up a bottle of wine by himself in the common area. Loud music blared and various European backpacker types were cooking their pasta dinners in the kitchen. The girl from the morning had been replaced by a tall boy. I paid up for the day and resolved to find other accommodations for tomorrow. The idea of sharing a room with 3 total strangers did not sit well with me. Given the popularity of this place it was highly likely that it would be a full-house tomorrow as well.

Up at 7am after spending a rather uncomfortable night. The Brit guy snored and my mattress was saggy on one side, causing me to constantly roll to the wall side to get some cushioning. The breakfast was pretty meager even by Patagonian standards, toasted bread and thin jelly and some sort of caramel sauce. I put my luggage under the staircase with the understanding that I might check back in at night if it wasn’t too crowded. The bus for the tour picked me up right from the hostel. We then drove around town to pick up a few more people before heading out. It took an hour of driving along the gigantic lake before we got to the docking port. The place was thronged with tourists spilling off many tour buses. We all lined up and paid our 30 peso park entrance fee before boarding a very nice catamaran. Most of the people rushed over to the coffee bar to get snacks and a hot drink. Soon we were underway and they let us go onto the upper deck. The day was pretty decent weather-wise with mostly sunny conditions. The clouds kept hovering over the ice-cap and formed spectacular lenticular clouds from time to time. We sailed past some spectacular large ice-bergs before making a stop at Lago Onelli. Here we all decamped and were escorted by a guide for a 30 minute walk from the dock to the lake. Along the way we spotted a gorgeous pair of woodpeckers, the red-headed male a showy contrast to the all-black female. The lake was spectacular with 4 glaciers pouring in from all sides. The lake had a very shallow outlet so it was jam-packed with icebergs of all sizes. My only regret was that they only let us stay here for 20 minutes or so. They were also very strict about not letting us wander too far because of "killer cows". These cows were brought in by German homesteaders and went feral after the homesteading venture failed. Anyway I was able to explore a little bit of the lakeshore and take lots of pictures before they started herding us back to the boat. Apparently you can come here with a guide only if you want to camp and explore. Soon we were back on the boat and cruising towards Uppsala Glacier. The As we approached it, there was a palpable sense of tension and danger. The wind got really strong and large waves rocked the boat.

Upsala is the largest glacier pouring out from the ice-sheet. It was guarded by mountains on the south side with small (relatively) glaciers. The mountains are only 3000 ft or so high but it doesn't take much elevation for glaciers to form here. I don’t know how close we got to it since there was nothing to provide scale. Nevertheless I could see that it was a gigantic river of ice, definitely bigger than Grey in TDP. It was hard to tell where the glacier ended and the Campo Hielo Sur (continental ice sheet) began. The captain steered the boat carefully past ice-bergs to get as close as possible to the glacier face. He tried to cruise parallel to the face but the big waves coming from the glacier didn't allow him much leeway. We almost immediately turned tail and started steaming away, the glacier gradually becoming smaller and less menacing. I could also catch tantalizing views of large heavily glaciated peaks in the interior of the ice-cap. Trekking onto this ice-sheet would no doubt be a mind-blowing experience. After Upsala we backtracked along our route before darting into another branch of this gigantic lake. This was arguably the most spectacular portion of the cruise. We passed by a couple of huge heavily glaciated peaks and then Glacier Speggazzini made its spectacular appearance. This glacier has the distinction of being the tallest face. We were able to get very close to the face because the water was much calmer in this inlet. The glacier obliged us by calving frequently into the turquoise waters. It was just a magical sight. Apparently the peaks surrounding us were the same ones we were viewing from Lago Onelli. This was the south side hence much more heavily glaciated. We spent quite a bit of time here before leaving. The peaks around the glacier were covered with clouds. However clouds move fast around here, and by the time we left they were mostly clear with a couple of gorgeous lenticulars. In terms of bang for your buck, this tour was clearly a winner. The return journey was also great since we paralleled the other side of the lake. Sheer cliffs laced with waterfalls cascading into turquoise waters. I filled up both my camera cards with pictures as well as shooting lots of video. On return to town I purchased a ticket for El Chalten as well as a ticket to see Glacier Perito Moreno in the morning. The company CalTur was giving a discount if you bought both tickets from them so thats what I did. It was 60 pesos for Moreno and 90 pesos for Chalten with a 10 peso discount. The Hostel America del Sur was full again so I moved over to a hostel across the street called Nakel Yenu. Even though I was no longer staying there, the Del Sur guy generously helped me book a hostel in El Chalten. Nakel Yenu was just as nice but totally deserted and cost the same. I also ran into Veranika again as she was staying the America Del Sur. Apparently she had managed to get a glimpse of the Torres during a 1/2 hour window of clear weather on the last day of her trip. I went into town to eat, my original destination was La Tablita but they were full up and not even willing to waitlist anyone. I ended up going to yet another buffet run by another Chinese family. Looks like they have the buffet market pretty much cornered in Calafate. After dinner I returned to the hostel, took a shower and hit the sack. I discovered from trial and error that it was better to sleep on the upper bunks since the mattresses seemed firmer and less used.

Nov 8, 2006 : Perito Moreno, Bus to El Chalten

Nov 9, 2006 : El Pilar to Camp Poincenot, Lago Sucia

Nov 10, 2006 : Lago Los Tres, Lago Piedra Blanca

Nov 11, 2006 : Cerro Torre, hike out and bus to Calafate

Up early from the sound of two passing hikers. It was about 6 or 7 am. I was acutely aware that I was camping illegally so I got up and started to disassemble my tent. It was a gorgeous clear day with the first light beginning to hit the sheer granite spires of Cerro Torre. I felt priviliged to have gotten up early enough to watch the sunrise on this magnificant piece of mountain architecture. I decided to stash most of my heavy gear and quickly hike over to Cerro Torre. The morning ws totally calm without a breath of wind. I came to a pond which had a perfect reflection shot of Cerro torre and snapped some great shots off the still water. The trail climbed a little bit before coming to a stream with separate horse and people crossings. I filtered some water here and continued. The trail now wandered along a rocky riverbed and came quite close to the Rio Fitz Roy flowing out from Laguna Torre. I soon reached the campsite and the delapidated outhouse. The lake was hidden behind a terminal moraine but Cerro Torre loomed over it. I finally crested the moraine and came to the breathtaking view I had worked so hard to reach. A big lake with floating icebergs, on the far end a massive glacier with the gleaming spire of Cerro Torre and its retinue of minor towers looming over it. To the left of the towers were some very impressive and heavily glaciated mountains (Cerro Grande, Doblado, Dato and Adela Sur). The whole area was as splendid a piece of mountain scenery as I hve ever seen and I had it to myself due to the ealry hour. The wind started picking up as soon as I came over the moraine and didnt let up for the rest of the day. I spent some time taking pictures, ran into a Brazilian dude who became very chummy after learning that I was from Pakistan. Apparently he had summited Broad Peak or Gasherbrum in Pakistan and had warm memories of Pakistan. He took a couple of shots of me and then we parted with mutual expresions of goodwill. I debated turning back but then figured since it was my last hurrah in Patagonia so I should amke the most of it. Consequently I headed up the right side towards Mirador Maestri. Along the way I ran into a large group coming up for ice-trekking on the glcaier. The advance party for this group was already setting up a rope crossing of Rio Fitzroy at the outlet from the lake. Seemed like a fun activity that I would have loved to do if I had more time. The wind had become pretty intense by now and I had to struggle against it as climbed up the moraine. It helped to go just below the lip of the moraine as it shielded you from the brunt. IT took me an hour or so with frequent picture stops to make it to the ramshackle mountaineers shelter at Miroador Maestri. It consisted of a A-frame shed made with corrugated sheet metal. It looked really delapidaed but atleast it was sited in a well-sheltered lenga forest. I was getting pretty hungry by now since I hadnt eaten anything since 6 pm yesterday. Unfortunately I couldnt find my stove and figured I had left it behind. I contented myself by eating some trailmix and looking at the view at a vantage point in the forest. The glacier was actually not tumbling into the lake directly but rather behind a small morinae with a gap in the middle. I was beginning to worry about making it to town in time for the bus so I high-tailed it out of there. The wind constantly pushed me around to the point where I fnally just plunge-stepped down the moraine just to get out of it. Then I hiked a little cross-country till I spotted the outhouse. I badly needed to go but this outhouse was no better than the one at Camp Poincenot. I finally stopped near the stream where I had filtered water and found a secluded spot to did a cathole and go. As I was fetching water from the stream I noticed that people had shat right on the stream bank and left toilet paper scattered around. Oh well. I quickly packed up my stuff from where I had stashed it. The heavy pack coupled with lack of food made me slow down to a crawl. The trail was flat enough with the usual ups and downs but I just felt deflated and almost nauseous. Finally I had to stop for a 10 minute break and eat some more trail mix. The trail led though flat scrubland in the Rio Fitzroy valley. Portions of the trail were quite scenic with bleached pieces of lenga wood delineating the trail as it wandered through profusely flowering dandelions. The only other flowers I spotted on this trip were a few anemones and of course the orange blooms on firebush.I finally came to a fork and decided to take the left one which supposeldy led to downtown Chalten. I soon passed a huge burnt tree with a warning sign that a smokers cigarette butt caused this burn. The wind was absolutely howling by this point and I had the hardest time in this final 30 minute stretch of all my trip. It was strong enough that it almost tossed me into the large thorny pin-cushion bushes a few times. I was able to avert this only with nimble use of my trekking poles. Soon I was wandering the dusty streets of El Chalten to reach the bus station. I dumped my pack there and rushed to the hostel, called a cab, bought some empanadas from the nearby bakery and made it back to the bus with 5 minutes to spare. The streets looked like a scene from some post-apocalyptic sci-fi movie -- hordes of trekkers hunched over their poles, staggering through the dusty streets in howling wind. I felt like I had finished what I had come out to do, sample as much of patagonia as I could in my allotted time. The trip back was a bit of a daze as it was getting dark and I was still recuperating from my adventures in the Park. On my return to Calfate I purchased a ticket for 50 pesos on the 8:30 am COOTRA bus from Calafate to Punta Arenas. Caught a cab back to Nakel Yenu Hostel. There were only 2 Spanish girls staying there so I got the room to myself again. I was feeling extremely grungy so took a shower. The bathrooms were quite dirty this time. One of the shower stalls had long hair jamming the drain and the other had a dirty soggy red underwear lying on the floor. I chose the stall with hair which of course meant that I was standing in ankle deep water by the time I finished showering. Nevertheless it felt great to be clean again. I rushed down to LaTablita, determined to check it out on my last night in Calafate. This time they had room and I enjoyed a very nice large steak in the crowded restaurant. Most people seemed to go for the large platters which had a sampling of many meats and sausages including disgusting crap like blood sausage, tripe and black pudding etc. After dinner I ventured into town to see if I could blow my remaining pesos on some touristy souvenirs. Unfortunately everything was closed because of the late hour. On my return I found that I was no longer alone in the hostel. There was a bunch of extremely loud and inconsiderate Israelis who had taken up residence next door. Even my room had a new guy who was sound asleep in his sleeping bag. I tiptoes in and crawled into bed quietly. It didn’t make any difference though because the people next door were slamming doors and talking loudly until 2 am. Even with my ear plugs I couldn’t shot off the infernal racket. Finally they quieted down and I fell asleep.

Up at 6 am. The damn Israelis were already up and raising an unholy racket. The bathroom was also still in a sorry state. I partook the breakfast as the Israelis checked out and left, leaving blissful silence in their wake. I had arranged for a cab at 7:30am to take me to the bus station. When I got to the terminal the bus was still being readied. Since I had a bit of time before 8:30 to see if any shopping was to be had. No luck since it was a Sunday. The only place in town that was open was the internet cafe, I tried to get him to burn my card pictures on a CD but his transfer rate was infernally slow. Finally I had to call it off and jog in panic back to bus station afraid I was going to miss my bus. Thankfully it was still there, in fact it didn't leave until 9 am due to paperwork issues with our passports. The journey back from Calafate went smoothly. I had a widow seat and got good views of the countryside. We stopped in Cerro Castillo briefly before making our way back to Puerto Natales. It was about 2:30 pm when I arrived and the woman at COOTRA gave me info that a bus for Punta Arenas was leaving at 3 pm. I caught a cab to Buses Gonzalez but their next bus was at 5 pm. The cab driver was a shifty bugger who charged 850 pesos just to drive me 1 block. He wanted even more money to go to other bus terminals so I gave him the boot, dumped my suitcase at a store and spent some time running around town checking bus departure times. Finally I realized that he next bus out was the 5:30 from Buses Gonzalez. After purchasing a ticket and leaving my luggage there, I wandered out in search of food and internet. Found a place where the guy finally transferred all my Las Glaciares pictures onto CD. He spoke very little English and gave me some grief about needing two CDS for the transfer but then his wife showed up. She spoke passable English and was able to interpret for us. This business took longer than I thought and left me no time for food. I just grabbed a couple of empanadas and rushed off to the bus terminal. The bus to Punta Arenas was pretty full. I originally traded my seat with an American girl who wanted to sit next to her friend. I thought I had both the seats to myself. However 30 minutes into the trip a large fleshy fellow with a bristling moustache plopped himself down next to me. Turns out he was friends with the driver and was chatting upfront but this was his seat. At this point the girl felt guilty and offered to move back to here seat and I gratefully accepted. The girls were exchange students from Georgia who were studying Spanish in Santiago. I had an interesting conversation with them. They were red-state republican types with family and boyfriends in the army. You don’t run into many unabashed war supporters in Portland but these gals sounded like they had been personally debriefed by Rush Limbaugh. Despite this we managed to have a pleasant conversation and were soon tooling through the outskirts of Punta Arenas past the numerous mortuaries. I split a cab with them since their hotel was pretty close to mine. I chose to stay in Hostel Paridiso. The woman who ran the place looked a little like Sissy Spacek. She gave me a large room but the lock on it didn’t work, then she finally put me up in a smaller room which was still pretty nice. The girls from the bus soon showed up as we had agreed to go have dinner together. We walked a good 20 minutes to get to downtown and go to Cafe Luna which was recommended in my book. I had a Cetolla(crab) and cheese dish that was very rich. Seemed like lobster fondue at Red Lobster, also had my first pisco sour. The rest had a large map of the world and visitors could put a pin in the country of origin. Surprisingly there were already a couple of pins on Pakistan. Afterwards we decided to get a cab since it was getting pretty late and cold. I was down to a T-shirt and shorts, the last clean items of clothing left. I nearly froze my ass off just waiting for the cab so walking was definitely out of the question. After bidding them farewell I went to my room and hit the sack.

Got up later than usual. The breakfast in the hotel was pretty mediocre, pretty much coffee, bread and jam. My benzina blanca bottle was still half-full and the cleaning woman at the hotel was very happy to accept it. So in 8 days of camping I only used up 500 ml of gas. Way to go MSR Dragonfly! Then I grabbed my cameras and made my way to downtown Punta Arenas. Along the way I stopped at the main city cemetery with multi-story casket towers. Downtown was a busy bustling place. I found myself recognizing some of the stores including the place where I had bought my white gas during the 1 hour stop on my way to Puerto Natales. The day was sunny and windy. I could see the harbor in the distance but didn’t get a chance to check it out. Most of the time was spent looking for any tour operators who might be able to whisk me to see the penguins but alas there were no such tours. I did find a tour that went to Isla Magdalena at 7 am. Had I known about it last night I might have swung something but now it was too late. To salvage my time I checked out a museum devoted to the life of one the rich tycoons of the early 20th century. It was very opulent with fainting couches in the bathrooms and ornate ceilings. It even had a few native Indian artifacts. Then I went to main Plaza de Armas of the town and bought a couple of souvenir caps from the various vendor stalls surrounding the main statue. By this time it was getting pretty close to my departure time so I skipped lunch and made a beeline for the shuttle office located in downtown. The van stopped by my hotel where I picked up my bag and left. Although my bag was considerably lighter after the backpack foods consumption, I was not taking any chances. The check-in went OK except for a moment of worry when the woman asked me to place my "mochilla" on the scale. I feigned ignorance of Spanish and also mentioned "carry on" repeatedly. Mercifully her attention was diverted elsewhere and she didn’t make a big deal out of it. I though I was through with the hassles but the security screener decided to search my backpack. He extracted the tent poles and pegs but were nice enough to give me a baggage tag and left me go. I did not want to go back and face the gimlet-eyed woman at the check-in counter again. The trip back was nice. I again sat on the right to get good views but the clouds were much thicker so I didn't get as good a view as on my way in. Still I caught plenty of glimpses of the vast Patagonian glaciers as well as the backside of Fitz Roy. I had ordered vegetarian food this time and I was thankful for my foresight because it was pretty pork-laden fare for the rest of the passengers. We arrived in Santiago on time and I took the 4000 peso shuttle to Residencial Mery. She gave me a nice room with 3 beds and a V for 9500 pesos. After securing the room I made a beeline for Providencia and had a great steak and a pisco sour at Eladio. Then I wandered around on Pedro Valdivia a little bit before catching a cab back. The metro had closed at 10:30 pm and I wasn’t sure if buses went back to the hotel. Hence shelling out 2000 pesos for the cab. Got back to the Residencial around 1 am and immediately hit the sack.

This was supposed to be my last day in Santiago. Got up fairly late and went to breakfast at the McDonalds around the corner. Their breakfast consisted of coffee and a couple of medialunas (sweet croissant). I had emailed to see if I could change the date of the flight. Miraculously it turned out that American could change the reutrn date and had offered to push it back to 11/29. I was torn a little, sometimes getting what you wish for can be a bit of a dilemma. On the one hand I was exhausted from my recent adventures, on the other the prospect of returning to the rainy NW was not very appealing either. I decided to think about it a little so I checked out, left my bag at the hotel and took the metro to Ahumada. As I walked along Ahumada to the Mercado in the bright sun, the air fragrant with blooming jacaranda trees,I decided that any extra time in sunny Chile was preferable to the rainy short days and unemployed boredom that awaited me on my return. Consequently I called American and asked them to go through with the change. While I waited for her to do that I went to the Mercado Central and wandered around. The place was laden with shops selling all kinds of exotic seafood - presumably freshly caught. Many restaurants were interspersed among the fish stalls with touts trying to corral you into eating at their establishment. I finally succumbed to the overtures of a waiter at a restaurant that seemed well-patronized by the locals. The salmon I had there was absolutely delicious, the soggy papa fritas were so-so. Then I made my way into the non-touristy area beyond the Mercado and across Rio Mapucho. There was a huge flower market and beyond it an interesting looking church. I ended up walking along this non-descript road with shops selling misc. household goods and mattresses etc. I found a telephone center and called US to find that my flight had been changed to 22 Nov., apparently the reservation system was changing rapidly and 11/29 was no longer an option. I felt relieved but also a little unsure as to what to do now with the extra time. I figured even in the worst-case scenario I could spend some time soaking up the long warm days in Santiago for the extra week. It was too late to even think about Vina del Mar at this point so I instead decided to walk over to the Museo Pre-Columbian. This museum was located pretty close to the city center but I had to ask around a bit to find it. It was about 5 pm at this point and the museum closed at 6. The receptionist woman assured me an hour would be sufficient so I plunked down the 2000 peso for the ticket. The museum was pretty well stocked with Indian artifacts ranging from Central America (Maya) all the way to Patagonia. It was pretty informative with English and Spanish captions so I took my time gawking at the stuff. Very cool stuff ranging from weapons to religious statues and elaborate pottery. By 6 pm I had gone through most of the stuff but a lot still remained. The guard had to practically escort me out as I was the one the last couple of people in there. I somehow got turned around while walking back to the metro. I thought I was taking a short-cut but ended up in a vast mall with a XXX theatre inside it (Special discounts on Wednesdays and for senior patrons over 60). Once I came out of it I wandered around a little bit before sighting the big government tower and getting my bearings. It was rush hour and people were lined up in long queues stretching half a block to get onto buses. I spotted a cafe called Ali Baba with darkened windows and correctly surmised that it was a Cafe con Piernes. The inside was pretty dark with skimpily clad waitresses chatting with customers. I had a cup of dark, sweet coffee and chatted with the only English-speaking chick in there. The place seemed like a cross between a strip club and coffee shop but the price was right -- 700 pesos to drink a cup of coffee and ogle beautiful girls. It was strictly legit as far as I could tell. After getting back to the Residencial I checked into a new smaller room since the big one was gone. This one was slightly cheaper (8500 pesos) but also a lot smaller with no TV. After resting for a bit I went to Providencia and had dinner at a Doner house run by a Muslim Turk. Nice wrap + soda for about 2000 peso. For once I didn’t have to worry about pork in the food. Afterwards I wandered around on 11 de Septembre before catching a bus back to hotel. The bus dropped me off right at Republica. One of the few times when I didn’t have to check into a new room. Creaky floors meant that ear plugs were necessary. I think apart from the camping I ended up using these babies every night.

This was a total down day as I was feeling exhausted from my non-stop traveling. I got up late. Took my clothes to a near by laundry recommended by the Residencial Mery owner. It was not inexpensive, but at this point I was down to 1 pair of shorts and a dirty T-shirt so it was imperative to get it done. After dropping it off I wandered around Echuarren road and found an interesting building called Univ. of Americas. Very modern looking steel/glass structure. I wandered into their cafeteria and gabbed some coffee. This whole area of Santiago seemed to have a high concentration of schools and universities which probably accounted for the very youthful atmosphere around Alameda and downtown. I spent most of the day sleeping in my room. Finally dragged myself out in the evening and went and bought the bus ticket to Pucon. Also went to Eladio for dinner. Wandered across Alameda on Republica to another quaint neighborhood. There was a interesting bar/hostel which had a photo exhibition on Patagonia. I also checked out the rooms which looked unkempt and had some long-term residents flopping out in them. The photos were nice and featured TDP as well as some volcanoes.

I got up around 6 and got ready for the long bus ride to Pucon. I was a little concerned about using the metro during rush hour to get to the Bus Terminal but it looked like that side of the metro was not very crowded in the morning. I just slid my bag through the turnstile and then walked in with my ticket. The Bus left promptly at the appointed time. I was sitting on the right side of the bus so I couldn’t get a good view of the Andes. However there were clouds blocking the mountain view anyway so I didn’t feel too bad. I had the two seats to myself. The road took us past industrial areas and farmland with numerous vineyards. We made a few stops at various towns to pick up and drop passengers. I almost got left behind at one of these stops where I ordered some food and the bus driver started pulling out while I was waiting to get my order filled. He could see me frantically waving at him but the asshole just kept pointing to his watch. Later on he stopped the bus at his favorite roadside rest. and his assistant ran in and picked up food for the both of them while we waited a good 5-10 minutes. We passed through Los Angeles, Temuco etc before getting off the Pan Americana and heading towards Pucon. The terrain changed to rolling hills and lush green country side with pine trees and eucalyptus. Before long the smoking hulk of Vulcan Villarica came into view. We passed through the town of Villarica and then fetched up in Pucon. I got off the bus and dragged my heavy suitcase down a dirt road in search of Hostel Travel Pucon. While I was asking a guy directions he mentioned that he also rented rooms in his house. It looked pretty decent but for some reason I felt a little suspicious and decided to stick with the well-reviewed Travel Pucon. Apparently it was just a few houses down from the bus terminal but there was no sign out front. I was greeted by two barking dogs one of whom was a pit-bull. However they soon became friendly after I spoke a few words of endearment. The Hostel was deserted apart form a 15 yr old girl with red hair done up in dreadlocks. She claimed that her mother was away and she was running the place. I secured a bunk in a dorm for 5000 pesos. She said there was no one else in there for the night so I felt OK bedding down in there. She also generously let me use the internet for free. I dumped my bags and went into town for some info on tours and Villarica climbs. The first tour place was the most expensive at 45000 peso, others including Ecole seemed around 35000. I also found out that I could catch a bus to Parque Nacional Huerquehue on my own and do some hiking so I resolved to do that the next day and size up my option for climbing Villarica tomorrow after returning from my hike. I walked back to the Hostel and entered through the backdoor which the girl said would be left open. She was lying in a semi comatose state watching TV in her room. I cooked up some food in the kitchen (rice and tuna). She came out to make some tea and I engaged her in conversation. Her English was pretty basic but a lot better than my Spanish. Apparently she was Swiss, as was her mother, but they had been living here for years. The mother had gone up North to Arica or Serena with the girls grandfather who was visiting from Europe. I found it very odd that the mother would leave her 15 yr old daughter to run the place with strange men in the house, but maybe that’s just me. She also mentioned that some French climbers had died on Villarica recently and it was best to go with a guide. The place was freezing cold but the gal obligingly lit a fire in the woodstove which warmed up the place very quickly. A dog fight erupted outside and I could hear a dog making a wailing sound. The girl ran out and came back to report that one of her dogs had a "hole" in it from the dog fight. Later on an elderly guy showed up and he and the girl stood out by the gate and talked for a good half hour. I felt better that at least there was some adult looking after her. I was feeling very tired so I hit the sack soon after dinner and checking my emails.

: Up early and . The girly told me that the hostel was going to be full tonight so I should make alternate arrangements. That was fine with me because I was beginning t find this place a little creepy and unsettling. I had a can of peaches as my breakfast and then off to the Buses JAC terminal. As always I cut things fine and showed up at the bus stop at about 8:25 to catch the 8:30 bus to Huerquehue. The ticket was 3500 pesos for round-trip and the bus returned at 5:30 pm. It took us about 1 1/2 hours to get to the park. A lot of school kids use this bus to get to school so we made frequent stops to pick them up. At the park entrance the bus dropped us off. I paid my 4000 peso park fee and studied the map and chatted with the guards. The best option was a loop hike that went up to a high plateau with several lakes and forest of monkey puzzle (araucaria) trees. The long 3 day traverse mentioned in the Lonely Planet Trekking book was closed due to snow. I filled up my water bottles at the guarderia and got ready to hike. I started out by myself but soon ran into a Slovenian guy named Gregor who was alone as well. We seemed to band up without any explicit verbal agreement as happens so often on the trail. The route followed a dirt road to the opposite end of the lake Tinquilco where we crossed a sizeable stream on a bridge. There was a campground and hosteria at this stream crossing as well as a deserted food stall. I had brought little to eat besides a snack bar and some chocolate milk but since nobody was manning this stall I couldn’t buy anything. We kept climbing uphill on a road until coming to a park sign and some restrooms. This is where the real trail started climbing up in earnest. The trail was quite muddy and in places they had installed wooden ramps over the exceptionally muddy spots. There were occasional viewpoints looking down at Lago Tinquilco with Vulcan Villarica in the background. The forest was mostly mature Coigue with thicket of Qilla bamboo. I had forgotten my hiking poles so I grabbed a handy walking stick of bamboo someone had left along the trail. It came in real handy for negotiating the numerous muddy spots. Somewhere along the trail Gregor and I hooked up with an Italian couple (Francesco and Simona) and we all hiked up as a group. There were a couple of side trails to scenic waterfalls which we took. The upper one was called Trafulco and the lower one was .... After the 2nd viewpoint the forest started transitioning to monkey puzzle trees. Soon we reached the first lake, Lago Chico. The whole area was very pretty with remarkably clear water in the lakes. Groups of parrots squawked and flew around in the thick canopy. We decided to head right towards Lago Toro and then loop back towards Lago Verde. The trail wound along the lakes offering great vistas of snow-covered peaks and lovely forest of araucaria. I stopped to take lots of pictures. We took a break on the shores of Lago Toro to get some great shots of the lake and surrounding forest. On the return part of the loop we hit some snow on the trail. I foolishly urged the group to take the side trail to a smaller lake called Lago Patos. However this trail had a lot of snow and mud on it and I slipped and fell on the trail and one of the lens from my glasses fell out. I almost gave up on finding it but on the second pass I located it off to the side of the trail. The group returned without getting to the lake , saying the trail was even harder farther up. After this we high-tailed it back down because it was getting late. The group kind of fell apart at this point with very man for himself. I took my time going down because the muddy stretches were quite slippery and I almost lost balance and fell a couple of times. The way down went pretty fast and by 4:15 I was out at the 2nd guarderia near the stepladder gate. Here I found the rest of the group taking a break. The latter part of the hike seemed to take forever, I was getting a little worried that I had somehow missed the road that led to the guarderia and bus pickup but I made it out to it by 5:15 pm. The bus ride back into town was fast and soon we were back in town. I checked out a few hotels including the one Gregor was staying at but none seemed particularly great so I decided to go back to Rodrigo’s place. Stopped at the Hostel to collect my bag but the place was locked and deserted. I banged on the door in vain for a while before finding an open window and peering in. It turned out to the girls room and she was sprawled out on her bed after smoking something. She looked pretty out of it and I had to bang on the window quite a bit to get her attention. There was no signs of anyone else there and I strongly suspected she was bullshitting me about the place being full up. I told her to stay put because I was coming to get my bags shortly. Then I went to Rodrigo’s place which also was locked and appeared deserted. Then I noticed the girlfriend sitting in the room with her back to the window. I had to bang on the gate for a while to get the woman’s attention. Once I was able to do that she opened the door and also called up Rodrigo who quickly showed up and seemed very pleased that I had come back. He even gave me a ride to Hostel Travel Pucon to collect my bags. When he found out I was planning to climb Villarica tomorrow he offered to take me into town and hook me up with one of his friends who ran a guide service and maybe get me a discount. He also told me to steer clear of Limay Tours which was exclusively patronized by Israelis. Apparently he was not a fan of Israelis. I rode into town with him in his pickup. He tried to hook me up but his buddies were either full up for the next day or not running tours yet. I tired of this crap and was beginning to suspect that Rodrigo was acting like a tout so I told him I would find something on my own. Gregor had climbed Villarica yesterday and recommended Trancura for their fees and service. I walked over to town, noticing these long-legged grey birds that seemed to quite prevalent in the area. They made a loud braying noise quite out of proportion to their size. Pucon is a very pleasant albeit touristy town. I went to the Trancura office and waited quite a bit while the girl gave the climb spiel to a bunch of American kids in Spanish, then she had to give me the same spiel in English. I booked the climb trip for tomorrow after spending some time trying to bargain. My logic being that I would be providing most of my gear , but the gal wouldn't budge an inch. This was a common theme during my visit to Chile, these guys have little to no interest in bargaining. She sent me to their main office where I was assured they had climbing gear in my size. I was instructed to show up at 7 to get my gear. The girl said we would leave around 9 after all the gear had been fitted. Then I did some groceries for tomorrows climb as well as some eggs, cooking oil and tortillas for cooking since I was tired of eating out. Returned to find Rodrigo and one of the tour guides opening new North Face clothing in the living room. He said he was "conducting some business". I cooked up some dinner of scrambled eggs and then hit the sack to get up early from tomorrows climb. Sometime late at night I could hear an altercation between the dog and the grey birds with a lot of barking and indignant squawking.

Up early and cooked my self some breakfast of tuna and rice. The Trancura girl had said they would try on gear from 7 till 9 so I dallied a little bit. I did have a nagging fear that I might have misunderstood her. Those fears were proven correct when I showed up at the Trancura office and found it closed and deserted. I walked back to the sales office hoping to find someone there but it was closed as well. I saw the Limay office was open. I guess that maybe why Jews do so well in business, the good ol' work ethic. Anyway I rushed over there and asked him if it was possible to get on the climb. He said yes, but it was going to cost extra since he would have to take me the trailhead myself. He said 30,000 pesos and I agreed. I would have paid this much to the Trancura people anyway. The guy quickly furnished me boots, ice-axe, crampons, gloves, glissading pants and sun glasses. The we got into a van and drove at high speed on dirt roads. He called up the main van on cell phone and radio and caught up with them shortly after the park entrance. I piled into the van with the rest of the group and we made our way to the chairlift and trailhead. There were 3 Chilean guides and the rest of group was about 10 or so Israeli boys and girls in their 20s. I quickly started shedding layers after our brief hike to the lift. The head guide made it clear that we needed to turn around by 3 pm whether we summited or not. I opted to take the 5000 peso chairlift as did most of the group. The climb is about 1400 m ( 4600 ft) but this lift cut it down by about 400 m to a more manageable 1000 m (3300 ft). We were instructed to get put our pack in front like we were hugging it and get on the chair. There was no restraining bar on the chairs and I felt pretty vulnerable getting on it. However it was mercifully slow and smooth so I didn’t feel in jeopardy at any point during the ride. The day was beautiful with great visibility and no clouds. The snow was mostly gone from under the lift and people were walking up underneath. Villarica spewed steam pretty much non-stop into the clear blue sky. Our group assembled at the top of the lift. The guide gave a brief summary of climb and showed people how to hold ice-axes and then we were off. We started to switchback up a well-beaten track in the snow going up between two small rock ribs. I opted to use trekking poles as did the guides, but the rest of the group had their ice-axes in hand. There were many other guided groups going up this same track so things had been pretty much churned up and provided stable footing, but the rest of the area was somewhat icy. We progressed at a pretty steady pace for an hour then stopped at big concrete shelter that might have housed a lift at one time. I had brought chocolate milk, orange juice and water (3 liters) as well as some candy/nutrition bars and apples. The guides pretty much kept us trudging along at a slow and steady pace with hourly breaks. The well-graded switchbacks in the snow ensured that the uphill never became too strenuous. After the second break at the end of the rock rib the slope steepened and I dug out the ice-axe and put away one of my poles. The view down was spectacular and very much like climbing Mt. Hood or one of the other Cascade volcanoes. We could see down to the Lake Villarica with the towns of Pucon and Villarica anchored on its opposite ends. In the distance the very distinctive double-coned Vulcan Llaima and the smaller Vulcan Queterpilli. After about a couple of hours the trail became much steeper and icier but the head guide told us to keep going without crampons. His reasoning was that other groups with crampons had already softened it up for us. For the most part he was right but there were a few icy spots where I felt the need to kick hard into the ice to make enough of foothold for secure passage. At the last break I saw a couple of familiar faces, it was Francesco and Simona, the Italian couple I had met yesterday in Huerquehue. They were all decked out in their yellow Trancura gear and crampons. They seemed to be straggling and had a guide shepherding them along so they didn't stop and chat for long. A couple of the gals had started struggling halfway into the hike so I gave them some words of encouragement and told her to use the rest step. She seemed pretty grateful for the advice and did in fact eventually make it to the summit. Pretty soon we entered the rime ice zone where fumes from the crater were billowing down on the strong wind blasting over the volcano. I found myself coughing and wheezing frequently. Before long we popped out on the crater rim. The view was stupendous into the almost circular steep-walled crater. Copious amount of toxic gas was spewing from it, and when the wind blew it our way it felt like we would suffocate. However the wind would quickly shift it away and then I could breathe a little easier. It was pretty chilly up there so dug out my fleece layer as well. The guide told us to ditch our packs and head towards the place where we could possibly get a look at the red lava sloshing around inside. He warned us to stay no longer than 6 minutes in that area due to the very active fumaroles. As we rounded the crater I got my first look at the very symmetrical Vulcan Lanin. The guide led us to the view point and sure enough I saw red lava splash on the crater wall and soon cool to a dull orange. This place was much more susceptible to fumes spewing from the crater as well as the numerous fumaroles right around us. I found myself frequently coughing and staggering around to get out of the path of the fumes. The draw of the place kept me there for longer than 6 minutes to get photos and shoot some video before the guides hustled the stragglers including myself back to the main area. We all sat down and ate something while admiring the view. The wind was blowing pretty hard and I was a little worried about getting down. The guide dismissed the idea of crampons yet again and told me we would be "making slides" most of the way down. I donned the pants they had provided. These were made of some vinyl or rubber-like material with a padded seat for glissading. They were loose enough to put on over other layers but had no draw-string so they kept slipping down. We started down the steep stuff and a couple of the group fell but didn't slide out of the track. Pretty soon the guide decided that it was safe to glissade. The sun had started to directly shine on the slope and snow was softening up rapidly. The rest of the group had never done this and ended up losing their ice-axes and tumbling uncontrolled down the slope. I had a really short ice-axe and it was hard to walk down with it while maintaining an upright posture. However it was fine for glissading and it had a leash on it unlike the rest of the groups axes. We did some pretty glorious glissading most of the way down to the top of the lift. I noted the guide looking approvingly at my technique and occasional self-arrest to stop. Most of the guides also figured out that I had some prior experience from my Mazama shirt with the crossed ice-axe logo. I took off my cumbersome pants at the top of the lift. It was getting really hot at this point so I shed some layers and then walked down with the blond-bearded guide named Jose. We talked about mountains in Pakistan and Patagonia and he knew about Rainier and Hood. The van ride back was pretty cramped and uncomfortable but I was flush with the successful climb and didn't mind too much. After handing back their gear and reclaiming my boots I walked around town a little. Had an empanada and then wandered on back to the Rodrigo place. Hostel travel Pucon presented a deserted look and it seemed totally empty with the gate closed. Ran into Rodrigo on the way back and he graciously offered me a ride back to his place. I told him of my successful climb and the mix-up which resulted in my climb with Limay. At the hosteria I quickly showered, ate left-over breakfast and crashed. I could hear some ruckus and a dog yelping but didn’t pay too much attention. Around 9 pm, Rodrigo knocked on my door and told me someone had shot his dog 3 times. I was really disturbed by this because he was just a cute harmless looking small dog. I had petted him on my return and he was as friendly a dog as can be. Fortunately the dog was alive, Rodrigo had taken him to the vet and gotten him stitched up. I cooked myself some eggs and stuff and had dinner than went back to sleep.

: Up early but apparently not early enough. Went to the bus station to find bus to Bariloche gone. Found that there was another bus to a town called San Martin de Los Andes in Argentina at 11:30am. The book called San Martin the Jackson Hole of Argentina. Sounded good and there wasn't much left to do in Pucon at this point, so I decided to take the bus. Quickly packed up and settled with Rodrigo who seemed a little disappointed that I wasn’t staying longer. he did recommend a Hotel Intermonti in San Martin, saying he paid about 8000 pesos for a room there. His dog was outside with half its body shaved and 3 sizeable stitches. He seemed really shaken but slowly wagged his tail when he saw me after some initial hesitation. I commiserated with Rodrigo about this seemingly random act of violence. This was probably the most distasteful/criminal thing I witnessed during this trip. Otherwise most people everywhere else seemed really friendly and law-abiding. This time Rodrigo made no offer of a ride so I dragged the bag 3 blocks to the bus station and got in line behind a bunch of Israelis. Of course they snapped up all the remaining window seats and I was stuck in an aisle seat next to a old lady who originally tried to tell me that my seat was "occupado". I was having none of it so she sullenly moved over. We rolled though lush green country side with bushes laden with yellow flowers lining the road. Finally we began to climb and soon the road changed to dirt. We passed some dramatic cliffs and then stopped at a small roadside restaurant by a rushing clean river. I grabbed a queso sandwich and some Nescafe before going out back and taking some pictures of the river and the aforementioned cliffs. Soon the bus started climbing in earnest and then Vulcan Lanin hove into view. It was a dramatic sight to see the perfect cone rising out of a plateau covered with beautiful forest of monkey puzzle trees. I finally couldn’t restrain myself and went into the drivers cabin to shoot some video out the door. turn out I jumped the gun because within 5 minutes we came to a stop at the Chilean border post. We all filed out for paperwork, I went though as soon as I could and then came back out to take pictures of the spectacular vista. Then we trundled over to the Argentinean side a km away and spent some more time in paperwork and more photography. I struck up conversation with a Canadian couple from Vancouver, BC. The guy was really worried about a sausage he was carrying. I told him to hang on to it, if they caught it they would chuck it. This whole area was very scenic and I believe it is known as Paso Mumil Malal. On the Argentina side they processed the Chilean nationals first and then the rest of us. The drive into Argentina was great because I finally saw a herd of Huemul deer. A bunch of the locals including the lady seated next to me got off at a small town along the way. The bus dropped us off in San Martin around 6 pm. I was a little worried since this town didn’t seem to have too many cheap accommodations. I left my suitcase at the bus station with the baggage guy and then wandered around checking out hotels. Most were quite expensive ranging from 50 to 100$ but I finally stumbled upon a nice mom-and-pop kind of place called Hotel Las Lucarnas right near the main Plaza Armas for 55 pesos/night. Hotel Intermonti was considerably pricier at 105 pesos/night. I quickly dumped my pack and walked back to the bus station, stopping at a grocery store enroute to purchase some juice. Collected my bags and took a taxi back to the hotel. Then I ventured out to see what this town had to offer. The plaza was pretty lively with a soccer game in progress and folks enjoying their Sunday evening. I walked over to the tourist office which was open even on Sunday evening at 7pm. They had hotel rates for the entire city listed on a whiteboard. The very helpful person told me of all the various tour options as well as walks I could do near town on my own. This was probably the most organized tourist info office I saw during my entire trip. She also pointed out a helpful tidbit of information about Lanin. Apparently that border crossing offers a better view of Lanin than any organized tours to the local lakes. Therefore I narrowed down my options to 7 lakes tour or a local tour to a nearby waterfall. Armed with this information I hit a few tour operators. One thing that soon became clear was that these operators were geared more towards the local tourists and not foreigners. None of the people spoke English. Also most of the tours were either full or hadn't started yet or weren’t scheduled for tomorrow. After getting this info I decided to first secure my line of retreat and book travel back to Chile. The bus station had 2 companies that went to Chile. Both left around 6 am. I debated between Temuco and Pucon and decided to go with the 6 am bus to Temuco. Temuco is along the main bus route from Santiago to Puerto Montt and offered better chances of catching a bus with minimum wait. After this I rushed back and foolishly wandered into the first tour office. The girl there glibly assured me that she would arrange the 7 lake tour for me, and I paid up and left with my voucher and instructions to be ready at 8:30 for my bus trip tomorrow. As I was in my hotel room getting ready to go grab some dinner, there was a knock at the door and it was the girl from the tour office. She sheepishly admitted that the tour was full and she could switch me another tour to a big lake with view of Lanin. I was pretty pissed and refused to accept this bait & switch. She refunded my money, apologized and left. It was well after 9pm at this point and all the tour offices were closed. The one guy who seemed most reliable was Yucos tours, he did have room on his tour when I spoke with him earlier but of course now he was closed. I tried to call his cell and email him but got no response. Walked over to a restaurant and foolishly ordered their parrilla lamb. I was hoping this would be better than the buffet places in Calafate but I was wrong. I got the same bland, gristly lamb as before. Only difference being that I shelled out a lot more money for it. I resolved to get up early tomorrow and see if I could salvage the 7 lakes trip, otherwise just do some day hiking to a Mapuche settlement near the Lago Lacar right next to town.

Up at 5 am. Walked over to Yucos but the place was totally deserted. Walked back to hotel and tried calling the office. Someone picked up around 8:15 and I tried to communicate that I really wanted to go to the 7 lakes tour. He said a bunch of things I didn’t understand but then he said some stuff about getting to his office "ahora". I took that as a good sign and hightailed it to his office. He was there with a couple of his kids lying sleepily on the bench. Originally he claimed the van had left but I prodded him to try radioing the driver. He relented when he found out I just had today. I knew the driver would probably be making the rounds of the hotels in town. Sure enough he was able to recall the van. I shelled out 65 pesos and gratefully clambered aboard. The rest of the tourists were all Hispanic and the tour guide was young gal named Silvia who prattled on in Spanish for large parts of the trip. We picked up some of the remaining tourists from hotel near Lago Lacar. I was originally sitting in the back by myself but was later joined by a hefty couple. Last stop the van made was at a fancy resort just outside town to let in two more women. The last seat was pretty much full with the 3 of us and the newcomer woman made some comment about "robustio" passengers. The guide Silvia at this point graciously gave up her seat and stood in a corner of the van to start the tour. She started out by pointing out some Mapuche farms and a little bit about their history. Then it was on to the lakes. We stopped at Lago Machonico. Sylvia made sure the whole van repeated the name in a sing-song manner so that I find it very easy to recall it even now. We stopped at various waterfalls and lakes for photo ops. Sylvia also went into how ponderosa pine was introduced here and is muscling out the native lenga forest. All this area was part of Parque Nacional Lanin. Very scenic with lakes and cliffs though no big mountains. We passed by Lago Villarino, Faulkner ( a missionary), Ceferino, Escondido etc. The predominant forest here seemed to be Coigue with some lenga mixed in. Also stopped at a hosteria by a lakeside where I had some fried bread and coffee. There were many nice car campgrounds by some of these lakes and plenty of people recreating and fishing. The road became dirt/gravel surface shortly after the first lake. Around 1 pm we fetched up at Villa de Angostura, a pretty town. We passed very close to the Chilean border -- it was 10 km up the road from the turn off to Villa Angostura. The group headed for a rest. in town but I decided to explore the place a little. The main drag was pretty touristy with lots of T-shirt shops, tour operators etc. I finally found a nice rest. and had very tasty trout cooked in butter for only 18 pesos. The food prices in this town seemed pretty reasonable. I rushed back to the van after lunch, worried they might leave but the group was still finishing up their leisurely lunch. I ended up doing some more shopping. Bought a T-shirt or 2 and a mate bowl con bambilla (straw). After lunch we drove along Lago Manuel Huapi towards Bariloche. This was a huge lake reminiscent of Lago Viedma, though not with the turquoise water. Weather was coming in and showers moved across the lake. Wind kicked up white caps on the lake reminding me a little bit of the Columbia River. On the opposite shore we could finally see Bariloche. We rounded the lake and passed over its outlet , Rio Limay where some windsurfers were doing there thing. Yet another reminder of Columbia River. The city of Bariloche turned out to be a pretty large, bustling with people and traffic. We were dropped off at the entrance to its main drag with instructions to be back in an hour. The road passed through a little arch to enter this area. This area was the most touristy that just about anywhere else I had been in Patagonia. T-shirts, knickknack, tour guides, chocolate shops jostled each other for space. Throngs of tourists milled around. I hit a few shops and bought the obligatory T-shirt or 2 and chocolates. The weather had turned pretty cold and it was drizzling a little bit. I had foolishly decided to wear only a T-shirt so I was feeling pretty cold. Every intersection opened towards the lake and cold air was blasting through these openings. The uphill side looked interesting but was shrouded in clouds. Apparently there are some ski areas nearby. We dropped off a few people in Bariloche so on the return trip we all sprawled out on the seats. The group was getting a little tired and Sylvia the guide also ceased her chatter and took up a seat and chatted with the group. This bunch loved saying "claro" after every sentence so conversations were interspersed with frequent choruses of "claro". I am guessing it means something like "absolutely I agree". We made brief stops at the headquarters of Parque Nacional Nahuel Huapi and a governor's mansion with nicely landscaped grounds. Apparently Eva Peron used to stay here. We headed back on Ruta 40, the same road that takes you south towards Calafate and Chalten. Rio Limay paralleled the road in many spots. The scenery looked high-desert-like with the now-familiar pincushion bushes. The scenery became pretty dramatic near a place called "confluencia" where Rio Limay meets another river flowing out from one of the lakes. A series of dramatic cliffs with fantastically shaped rock formations started dominating the landscape and drew oohs and aahs from the group. Raul the driver pulled over so we could get some pictures. We stopped shortly thereafter at a gas station where I had a mediocre empanada and some juice. Then we got off Ruta 40 and headed up a dirt road back towards San Martin. This entire area had very dramatic rock formations that seemed to be composed of tuff lava. Very reminiscent of the Capadoccia area in Turkey. It was getting late so the driver didn't make too many stops. The light was also less than optimal due to increasing cloud cover. We wound our way up past rock formations with names like Cabeza de bebe (baby’s head), mochillero (backpacker) and a phallic looking one that the religious types had named "finger of god". The road passed through a dramatic gap called Paso Cordoba before starting its descent. We stopped at a small roadside shrine to a St. Ceferino who was the son of a local cacique (shaman). The father had 5 wives and was a local big-shot but the son opted to convert to Catholicism and went to Europe for education. He caught TB over there and died. There is a lake named for him that we passed earlier in the day. People had left small offerings like shoes, bottles etc. at this little shrine. Our group took some photos including group photos before we headed down. We passed through some huge estancias where logging seemed to be the main activity. Finally the road passed yet another gloomy looking lake before we finally hit pavement and completed the loop. The van deposited up back in town close to 9pm .On my return to the hotel I realized that my towel had disappeared. The owner acknowledged that they had mistakenly taken it and she had washed it already and it was being dried. I quickly dumped my cameras and went looking for food. I settled on a place that seemed to be doing brisk business. The owner was a blond German looking dude. Across from me was a party of locals, there was one smartly dressed gal in particular who looked very striking as she smoked a cigar and drank wine as she talked animatedly with her male companions. She looked like she would be right at home on a large estancia riding a horse. I ordered a huge 1 lb steak which was very good. These guys don't know shit about lamb but they know their steaks. On my return the dried towel was waiting for me. I had a hard time recognizing it but the "Made in Pakistan" label removed any doubts as to its origins. I settled my bill as well since I would be leaving early in the morning. On the whole I really liked this hotel.

Up at 5 am. finished packing quickly. The taxi showed up shortly after 5:30 and I was on my way on the 6 am bus to Temuco. Never did get to partake the breakfast at Hotel Las Lucarnas. The bus trip was pretty uneventful. We stopped a km before the Argentinean border for 10 minutes to give a ride to a group or 5-6 soldiers. These same soldiers then took up station behind the counter and started stamping our passports. The Vulcan Lanin view today was a little marred by some clouds but these burned off just in the 1/2 hour we spent going through immigration. On the Chilean side my suitcase got pulled into their screening machine and he asked me to open it. After fishing around in there he extracted the almost empty jar of Albertson's creamy peanut butter, but his superior gave it the green light so he put it back. We trundled down the dirt road and stopped at the same small restaurant by the river for a snack/bathroom break. More short stops in Pucon and Villarica where most of the passengers got off. The bus dropped us off not in the main bus terminal in Temuco but a small bus stop near the bustling vegetable market. This city was the most non-touristy of all the places I saw in Chile. Just everyday people living their lives. I had to drag my bag around a while and ask people in my broken Spanish where TurBus was located before realizing that it was nowhere within walking distance. Finally flagged down a taxi and negotiated 1500 peso to the TurBus terminal. It was about 1:15 pm at this time and the TurBus woman said there was a Salon Cama leaving at 2:15 which had one spot left. I jumped at it even though it was twice as expensive as a normal seat. Partly because I wanted to see what the fuss was about and partly because it got to Santiago by 10pm whereas the “Classico” that left only 15 minutes later at 2:30 took a full hour longer and got to Santiago at 11 pm (by which time the metro would be closed). The bus was very comfortable, the seats looked like something out of the first class cabin of an airplane. They reclined to about 70 degrees so you could sprawl out in relative comfort. As a bonus I found that I was on the right side of the bus and had a great view of the Andes from the large glass windows. They also served up some snacks along the way. I was tired from the early morning start and slept soundly for a couple of hours. The bus got to Santiago right on time. By this time I was feeling pretty beat after almost 18 hours on the road. The janitor at the bus station got pissed because I threw some water on the tarmac. I mumbled a "lo siento" and quickly walked away to the metro and hopped on the train to Republica. When I rang the bell the assistant appeared and my heart sank when she said "no tenemos". I knew the place was getting busier when I left a week ago but I didn’t think it would be totally full. Fortunately the main woman came along and mentioned they had one "pequino" room. I gratefully took it even though it was just a converted closet under the stairwell. I was in no mood to wander around town looking for a room at this hour. In retrospect I should have called from somewhere and made that reservation. Anyway I hauled my bag up there and managed to jam it in by the bed, leaving no room to even stand in the place. It had become quite hot in the city and I opened the window to let some air in. While I was in the bathroom taking a leak I felt my heart pounding like crazy and felt dizzy so that I had to lean against the wall to stop myself from falling. Don’t know if it was the 18 hours of sitting or lack of food that caused it but I decided to go back and lie down in bed for a few minutes. After resting for a bit I felt better and decided to go to Providencia to get some food. The metro was closed but the packed buses were still running. I managed to get one and got off at Manuel Montt. I was going to check out a Peruvian rest. that was recommended in the book but it was closing just as I walked in. I finally ended up eating at one of the bustling sidewalk cafes along 11 de Septembre. It was some sort of chicken soup/curry thing and bread. There was some sort of football match in progress and people were glued to the TVs in every joint. About the time I was heading back I noticed much festivity was in progress with people driving around honking their horns and flying large flags out the windows. Apparently Colo Colo is a big local favorite soccer club and it had just won a match at 1 am. I was dog tired and just crashed out after making it back to the Residencial.

: Up at 9 am. Went out for a breakfast of coffee and a greasy empanada in a small shop on Echuarren. Packed up and left my luggage under the table at Residencial Mery and then caught the Metro to Manuel Montt around 11 am. As expected most of the restaurants don’t even open for lunch till 1pm. So I ended up back at the Doner house for lunch. Then I proceeded to wander around for a while before catching metro to Terminal de Bus. I was thinking maybe I had some time to go check out Vina Del Mar but a quick investigation revealed that would be very risky since it was 2 hours each way and I didn’t want to risk missing my flight. Walked back to Mery, checking out roadside stalls and a big clothes/shoes market next to the main bus station. Interestingly they are selling T-shirts with football team logos from all over the world but I couldn’t find a single T-shirt with Chile on it. Picked up my camera and took the metro to Cerro Santa Lucia. Its an interesting area with a nice park and the impressive national archives building. However this place seemed heavily infested with beggars. I got pestered by the beggars a little but managed to give them the brush-off. First one was a girl who claimed she needed some money for metro (I gave her the "No hablo Espanola treatment), in the park an older woman claiming to be a gypsy asked for change. I used "no tengo dinero" but the crafty biotch points at my pocket where the humongous Chilean coins are sticking out like a sore thumb. At this point the earlier girl also pops up and makes some sort of rude comment. The word corazon in it seems to indicate that cold-hearted or heartless might be one of the terms she used. Anyways I oiled out of this park and entered the park. The place has a reputation for being unsafe but I found a couple of cops sitting at entrance who are registering all visitors. There was a small overpriced artisan market inside the park with Easter Island stone heads and similar crap for sale at exorbitant prices. Park has nice statues, fountains etc and a steep but short climb to the lookout. As with San Cristobal I ended up taking the long way down past kissing couples. After exiting the park I noticed that police seemed to have gone on high alert. The metro station had 4-5 carabineros with hands on the unholstered guns which made me somewhat nervous. There was an artisan market across from the Santa Lucia park and I spent the next hour or so in there looking at touristy crap. Bought yet another mate bowl and woolen hat before heading over to the Ahumada area for another dose of doble borqilla ice-cream. My mission now was to blow all my remaining Chilean money but still have enough to get to the airport. To this end I revisited the Cafe Piernes called Cafe Ali Baba on one of the side streets. The only English speaking waitress in the joint recognized me from my last visit and greeted me like a long-lost friend. I had a cup of coffee and chit-chatted with her. Told her I was on my way out and she insisted I take a couple of pictures with her. Too bad she does not have email because one of them turned out pretty nice even in the dimly lit interior. After this I debated getting some food but it was getting late. I passed by the govt. house and they were setting up chairs for an outdoor concert in the park on the back. Looked like some big shots were going to be there because I noticed secret service type security guys with ear pieces, casing the joint and looking suspiciously at passers-by. Anyways I walked back to the Residencial Mery. The city was bustling with rush hour traffic. The central park blocks in the middle of Alameda were thronged with teenagers and cute school girls in their uniforms. I felt a little sad at bidding farewell to Santiago and stopped at some points to take some last shots of the statues and city scenes along the way. Collected my bags at the Residencial and hauled them to the Metro Republica stop. Was a little alarmed when my ticket wouldn’t work, I had already pushed the suitcase through the turnstile. Anyway it worked on like the 5th try after I went back to the attendant he gestured to insert it vertically. At the Bus Terminal I bought the ticket for the 8:30 bus to Airport and started waiting. A guy with trekking poles and big backpack was waiting on the same bench. Turns out he was a Chilean on his way to Torres Del Paine to do some guiding. The bus deposited us at the Airport around 9pm. I checked my bag and backpack and only kept the lid from my backpack as carry on. After 3 weeks of hauling these bags I was sick and tired of it and wanted to go minimalist. The ticketing and security stuff went like a breeze and soon I was in the departure lounge. Blew the last bit of money on a pastrami wrap at Dunkin Donut and then onto the plane. Of course they had to see if we had gels or liquids (a check not normally performed outside US). A sign that we were on our way back to fortress (or is it police state) America. Nov 23, 2006, Thanksgiving Day : Arrived in DFW after a long 10 hour flight. Surprisingly I was able to sleep most of the way which is rare for me. At DFW I was again "randomly" selected for customs inspection. The guy gave up after a half-hearted poke through my dirty clothes and camping gear. I was originally slated to stay in DFW for almost 10 hours before flying out at 6 pm but luckily I was able to get a standby seat on a 9:10 am flight. Just enough time to grab some fried chicken at Popeye's before hopping on for another 5 hour journey to PDX.

All in all a great trip except for the erratic weather in TDP. For future treks I would make sure I had a nice rolling duffel in addition to my backpack. It was hard to haul the clunky suitcase around. It is imperative to bring ear plugs if you value a quiet nights sleep, because the thin walls, noisy neighbors and snoring dorm mates are ubiquitous in Patagonia.

Junaid Omar