The plague So, after we spent that night in the what felt like a wild west city or just an abandoned mining town, we made our way to supposedly one of the region’s most beautiful parks - the Pumalin Nationalpark of Chile (founded and run by the Northface founder). We found out, that you can drive into the park and camp right there in the beautiful scenery, the mountains in the back, flowers, green lawns and forests right around us. Perfect - we are getting better again with choosing our camping spots. So off we went and drove in the actually completely empty part of the park. It was not yet high season so of course the camping grounds and hiking trails were empty. No doubt. That was at least what we concluded. We found an absolutely wonderful place - the most perfect green lawn, with yellow flowers right next to a flowing riverbed. And, as said, in total solitude. We decided to celebrate this with a picnic by the river. We took out our sandwiches, water, and some fruit. It felt as if we had been put right into a Disney filmset when we walked down to the water. The only thing missing was us holding hands, jumping up and down and singing the sound of music. Oh and by the way - the entrance to the park was free. Can you believe it? Anyway - half way down to the water, there was a humming sound and something that looked like a big fly was circulating around M’s head. “Just a fly” he said. I commented that it rather sounded like a wasp. Instead of flying off, it targeted M’s head quite persistently. Not too pleasant. And then, another one appeared, and along with it what felt more like 856 others. And they were not just flying by, they were ALL flying towards us. So it was over with the sound of music (which we never sang) and also with the Disney idyll. We were instead very inelegantly running back to Elvis, sidestepping along the way, who was standing like a rock by the bushes. We just managed to get into the car and closed both doors, before the cloud of insects flew against our windows. Anyone ever red “The Swarm” from Frank Schaetzing? If so, you can imagine the kind of feeling we had. Anyhow, we obviously could not stay here (especially as we saw that these little buggers had a huge trunk that seemed to be trying to get through every kind of clothing layer we had on (even the tea towel M was wearing on his head for protection). We were sure it had something with us being so close to the water so we drove further into the park. Surely there were less of them there. We stopped at an empty parking space to do one of the short hikes. But I was prepared now. With 28 dregees and sun I put on a longsleeve, a hoodie, sunglasses and leggings. M had a similar outfit - he just skipped the leggings. We got out of the car, and nothing.... For almost 3 seconds. Then there was the same inconvenience as had been by the river. I put on my hood, took the tea towel for waving around me and we went hiking. This was still supposed to be a most beautiful park, and we tried to see past the black little devils. Once into the woods, there were indeed less of them and they were only replaced by gigantic hornets. But they seemed to be more interested in flowers than in hoodies and let us pass. When we got back to the car our “friends” were already waiting for us - so we decided that we had seen enough of this most beautiful national park (which it was) and would look for another (even if less idyllic) camping spot. One where we could actually be outside without being attacked and bitten before we had cooked pasta for dinner. And we found it - just off the Carretera Austral, M saw a riverbed below the mountains, where a small gravel road was going to. We drove down, parked Elvis next to the mountains and the water, got out of the car and counted -1, 2,..3...3...3 - NO humming, NO insects (which we later found out were called Tabanos, and which would bite happily anyone coming their way) only pristine scenery. So relieved we took off all our layers (almost), sat in the sun, played cards, drank frappe (useful to be greek) and had the best afternoon to relax. We were afraid that someone would chase us away - but apart from a truck and a 4 wheel car, nothing drove by and no one disturbed us. Thanks Karma, you seem to be back. Quick Prayers For the next two days it was: Carretera Austral. M navigating the car with an average speed of 30km/h on a non-existing road. From all the shaking, breaking, stopping, accelerating and praying for Elvis to make it - I cannot remember much else. But M does not stop to remind me how incredibly scenic it apparently was. The brazilian Zumba instructor For my birthday we were spending time in (front of) a hostel in Coyhaique, a sleepy but cute town further down south. As we needed 8 attempts with Elvis to drive up the steep and slippery driveway, we decided to leave him up there for 3 days - allowing the car to rest, and while he was up there, us too. The hostal Las Salamandras was a beautiful, bit quirky cabin with a hot tub (!) on the deck outside. This would be perfect for a nice evening with the stars out and a glass of wine. We did not count in the other guests though - the first night the really cool owner Tim (from the UK who got first stuck and then happily married in Chile) fired up the tub (with wood) for another couple (which was actually staying IN the hostel). When it was ready we looked outside - and it was steaming and filled with water… and also eight 13 year old girls from the gymnastics competition, who were all staying, with their 20 other bffs, in the very same hostel. So the first night, no one went in (except the Justin Bieber Fans who asked twice if I knew what a Selfie was and if there was an english word for it too). At midnight, when I turned another 20something, M had arranged a little surprise in the back garden of the property, I had to close my eyes (and fell on my way there). He had made me an Adventskranz all by himself, for the christmas addict A, and we cheered with apple cider. Girl 1, 2 and 3 came out of the bushes and sang Happy Birthday, which was super cute. We also took a selfie. A day later, on my birthday, Tim hung a sign in front of the tub (private birthday), which was incredible nice of him, and after M & I had BBQd steaks on the left over cole the gymnastics group had used for lunch we made some mulled wine (as it was about to be christmas soon). When I went back inside to check on the wine - all girls were assembled in the common room, and a guy was shaking his butt (covered in baby blue lycra) ecstatically in front of them to the sound of Shakira. When they saw me - they all started singing happy birthday (in spanish) while dragging me onto the “dancefloor” with them. The (as I was told 5 times brazilian and very muscled) zumba instructor (god knows why a Chilean gymnastics class needs a zumba teacher from Rio) was grinning even more euphorically while he was now going in circles showing off the baby blue package even faster. I lasted approximately 5 minutes (the mulled wine I had before did help). Using the favour of the hour (with everyone inside) M & I then hopped inside the hot tub outside as it was finally dark. It was perfect. The light outside broke, which made it even better as now you could see the stars. Girl 1, 2, 3 up to 28 all respected our privacy. Success. The Wrong Ticket As the boat to the Chilean border town goes only a few times a week, and as another trip on 200 km gravel was not an option due to our timely constraints - we went to the boat office (first to the wrong one, which was an hour detour by foot) and booked a boat (it turned out only boats on Thursday, Friday and Sunday take cars and they leave at 8 pm at night). As we wanted to go as early as possible, we booked Thursday, 10 December. We drove the way to the ferry in Puerto Ingeniero Ibanez, spent our time in the non-town with eating cheese sandwiches and watching Netflix at a construction site with the streaming-quality wifi (whaaat?). When we stood in line to get on the boat I looked at the ticket. Here it was, black and white: Diciembre 11. Hang on, 11!!!??? We definitely had booked for December 10. The ticket guy must have reserved the wrong day. Oops. More and more cars were going up the boat with us being almost last in line… I got out, explained our dilemma to the lady in the ticket office and got a very german answer: “It says 11 - so you have to wait until tomorrow. Nothing we can do. Period.” Grmpf. Here I was, a half-greek in Southamerica - and that should be it? Not with me. I went out, walked up to the boat guys and explained again - pulling a very sad face, and mentioning an important meeting I had in Chile Chico (no way we wanted to stay in this deserted city over night, no matter how good the wifi). The boat guy looked at me, then at the ticket and shrugged - as long as they could close the ship gate, he did not see an issue. And so we went on the overloaded boat as the last to go on board, the gate hardly closing. Now that is what I call Southamerica! In Chile Chico, we arrived in the evening (10 pm) and wanted to head out early to cross the border. So M suggested to sleep right in front of the police station on the street - that way we were safe and would save money as well. Fair point. We went into a bar just to use their sanitary facilities, crawled into the car in front of the Gendameria and the next day headed off to Argentina. A whole new adventure. Good night. Stay tuned, M & A
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