Nice Weather For Ducks
As if there was a cosmic balance the needed to be fulfilled, after a three week humidityless stint, the moisture finally caught up with us. And it came with a vengence.
One nights stop in Chillán brought us to the Lake District miles south of Santiago (Chillán - not much to write home about outside a random mexican mural in a school library that we visited) from where we continued south. Even though people warned us that it really rains in the Lake District we were convinced we would be fine. We live in Britain after all and on arriving in Pucón, the town we had chosen as our base, the slight drizzle seemed oddly familiar, so we made some grand plans for the day after.
Bright eyed and bushy tailed we woke up ready for action only to see the world had disappeared and been replaced by a humongous cloud. And so it remained. After a few a hours and a quick check of the weather forcast we changed our plans from trekking to driving, although in hindsight perhaps kayaking would have been a better option.
We drove around the lakes and parks in a hire car, catching glimpses of majestic volcanos and tranquil lakes, but we never managed to see the whole vista. What we did manage to do is get stuck on a dirt road, deep in the deserted forrested park just after crossing a rickety sideless wooden bridge over a raging river. Oh and needless to say it was raining hard. A few heart-in-mouth minutes later we had reversed back over the bridge, turned round and retreated back home. There we met a couple of gringo strangers who thought it would be a great plan to take a night tour to some thermal baths. As we hadn't accomplished much that day, drinking Pisco Sours in a hot bath sounded perfect, and indeed it was in its own peculiar way. We ending up having a great time with the lovely german/english couple in a hardly lit wooden hut about 10kms out of town. The place was a proper spa but we seemed to have been sneaked in by the night watchmen, to earn themselves a few extra pesos. The four of us had the place to ourselves but with no lights! We finished off having a mud bath in something that can only be described as black ash mixed with weeds, moss and a bit of water. Most disconcerting.
Pucón itself was quite unlike the rest of the South America we had seen. It looked like it belonged on the Swiss Alps with its wooden lodges and Germanesque names. Even though it is a bit of a toursit trap (apparently much worse in summer) , and it never stopped raining, we ended up liking it (well what we saw anyways).
One nights stop in Chillán brought us to the Lake District miles south of Santiago (Chillán - not much to write home about outside a random mexican mural in a school library that we visited) from where we continued south. Even though people warned us that it really rains in the Lake District we were convinced we would be fine. We live in Britain after all and on arriving in Pucón, the town we had chosen as our base, the slight drizzle seemed oddly familiar, so we made some grand plans for the day after.
Bright eyed and bushy tailed we woke up ready for action only to see the world had disappeared and been replaced by a humongous cloud. And so it remained. After a few a hours and a quick check of the weather forcast we changed our plans from trekking to driving, although in hindsight perhaps kayaking would have been a better option.
We drove around the lakes and parks in a hire car, catching glimpses of majestic volcanos and tranquil lakes, but we never managed to see the whole vista. What we did manage to do is get stuck on a dirt road, deep in the deserted forrested park just after crossing a rickety sideless wooden bridge over a raging river. Oh and needless to say it was raining hard. A few heart-in-mouth minutes later we had reversed back over the bridge, turned round and retreated back home. There we met a couple of gringo strangers who thought it would be a great plan to take a night tour to some thermal baths. As we hadn't accomplished much that day, drinking Pisco Sours in a hot bath sounded perfect, and indeed it was in its own peculiar way. We ending up having a great time with the lovely german/english couple in a hardly lit wooden hut about 10kms out of town. The place was a proper spa but we seemed to have been sneaked in by the night watchmen, to earn themselves a few extra pesos. The four of us had the place to ourselves but with no lights! We finished off having a mud bath in something that can only be described as black ash mixed with weeds, moss and a bit of water. Most disconcerting.
Pucón itself was quite unlike the rest of the South America we had seen. It looked like it belonged on the Swiss Alps with its wooden lodges and Germanesque names. Even though it is a bit of a toursit trap (apparently much worse in summer) , and it never stopped raining, we ended up liking it (well what we saw anyways).
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