Expectations have an exaggerated influence on our experiences  in all areas of our lives and travel is no exception. I try my best to travel with a completely open-mind, no expectations or biases. Of course, this is nearly impossible to do; how can you read about or talk to people about a place and not have those facts/ideas influence you? And so we arrived in Santiago with thoroughly low expectations. Several travelers had told us to avoid it if possible, while our guidebook even said that it can take awhile to appreciate the city.

            Perhaps it was only due to my über-low expectations, but I actually liked Santiago. It’s a pretty modern city with (and very key) a good availability of snacks and street food. Like BA, the only other SA capitol we’ve been to so far, Santiago has a third of the country’s population. Luckily, Chile only has a third of Argentina’s population, so Santiago is not too crowded. Unlike BA, Santiago is relatively clean, has good public transportation (good metro, no black-exhaust-spewing buses), and lacks the incessant littering of the Argentine capitol. On our first day, we explored the city center with the highlight being Santa Lucia. Santa Lucia is a hill in the middle of the otherwise flat city (although it is surrounded by snow-capped mountains), with numerous gardens, a cathedral, and the ruins of an old fortress and its ramparts. It was a cool place because old architecture was either built into or cut out of the rock. From the peak were awesome views of the sprawling city, although heavy smog/haze rendered the surrounding mountains nearly invisible.

            We spent much of today scouring the city for an English-language bookstore to buy a Bolivia guidebook, but our search turned up empty. At least we got to see a lot more of the city though. Santiago doesn’t have a whole lot of appealing sights to see, but we did check out the uninteresting National History Museum as well as the equally uninteresting (and now-electronic) trading floor of the Bolsa de Comercio (Santiago’s stock exchange). To kill the rest of the time until our bus tonight, we caught an afternoon showing of “Quantum de Solace,” the newest 007 flick. Luckily it was in English, although the Spanish dialogue wasn’t subtitled. It was interesting though, as much of the movie was filmed in Chile’s Atacama Desert. In fact, I read that there was big fiasco and filming was interrupted because some Chilean politicians objected to Chilean land being depicted in the film as Bolivia (Chile invaded and acquired the disputed land in the 1830’s, although Bolivia still does not recognize it and has some holiday regarding the stolen land). Despite the bad reviews, I thought it was a good film. Sure there’s not as much plot as the first Daniel Craig one, but it had good action and fight scenes. Plus, I like that there’s not all the gadgets and stuff from the old Bond movies. Anyways, I was entertained and it was more interesting given that we were in Chile and headed to Bolivia (although the desert scenes were shot in Chile and the La Paz scenes were shot in Panama City, the plot focused on the water shortage in Bolivia and the battle against privatization of water utilities, which is grounded in recent history; if you’re interested, Google some combo of Bolivia, water wars, and Bechtel).

            We didn’t do too much- hung out at some parks/plazas, people-watched, and visited a few sights- but it doesn’t seem like there is a lot to do in Santiago. In total, we were only in Santiago for two full days. Just long enough to acquire a good first impression and probably just short enough to not have it spoiled.

 

a little bit of Rapa Nui

We ended up going to Santiago sort of by accident.  Originally we had wanted to return to Argentina from Coyhaique, but to get to our destination, El Bolson, required taking two buses.  We had two options for this: take a bus to Sarmiento and transfer to another bus to El Bolson, or, we could take a bus headed to Puerto Montt (via Argentina as either there is no direct road heading north from Coyhaique or else the road in Argentina is much better, I’m not quite sure how it works) and then, because we would not be allowed to get off in Argentina for some unknown and stupid reason (probably involving someone potentially being able to make money off us) hop on another bus heading back in the direction we came for 4-6 hours, and then yet another bus for the final couple hours. 
this is what i am talking about

I’m not sure if improvisation is an aspect of travel or a synonym of it, but we’ve been doing a lot of improvising lately. After countless changes of plans and a 20-hour bus ride (that for lack-of-infrastructure reasons) took us into Argentina and then back into Chile, we arrived in Puerto Montt. The plan was to head back into Argentina, but having passed through our destination (no passengers are allowed off in Argentina for some reason) and not being too impressed, we decided to head north next. The only question was: should we stay in Puerto Montt or just hop on the next night bus to Santiago?

            It was raining steadily when our bus pulled into Puerto Montt. Despite the grey dampness that pervaded the city, we decided to stay at least a night and have a look around. For the first time since arriving in South America, we followed a tout. He seemed nice and showed us cards and photos from a few hotels. We agreed to have a look at one of them and followed him a couple blocks. When we stopped in front of an industrial building on a deserted street and rang the bell, we asked where the hotel was. He told us that this was an alternate location, to which we said we’ll look for our own and walked away. Walking through the downpour towards the closest recommendation in our guidebook, we decided to never follow another tout in South America.

            We did find the place in our book, a nice family-run hospedaje close to everything in town. Besides checking our email and buying some food from the market, we stayed inside all afternoon due to the rain. I was beginning to doubt our decision to stay in Puerto Montt, because it was pouring so hard, it was impossible to do or see anything.  After dinner, we contented ourselves with a movie night of sorts, since our room had a TV with some English movie channels.

            It was overcast all day today, but it only rained a little bit in the midday. We started our day by walking down to the water (Pacific Ocean for the first time in awhile) and along the waterfront for a couple kilometers to the fishing port of Angelmo. There were a lot of colorful fishing boats docked and a few smaller vessels which transported people to the various islands in the bay. We saw some sea lions swimming around, waiting for some scraps of food from the market. The seafood market was interesting, but not terribly appetizing. There were plenty of shellfish, prepared in every which way- raw in bins, cooked and strung together on strings, or packaged. Unfortunately, most of the fresh ones looked dead already and there didn’t seem to be nearly enough water or ice. The fish (mostly salmon) was cheap (around 2.5 USD per kilo of filet), but didn’t look so good either. I’m not sure if any seafood with ever live up to what we ate in Japan though. We did sit down for lunch at a nearby restaurant though. Joylani ordered clams and I got a huge salmon filet. Mine was good, Joylani’s wasn’t. I told her I didn’t think it would be that great and she scolded me for not saying anything when she was deciding what to order. But I pointed out that I’d advised her against ordering barnacle, so I felt that I had helped her avoid even worse food.

            After lunch, we walked along the waterfront back towards town. Several times we passed groups of teenager, who would ask where we were from. Upon telling them as we passed, they’d ask for a dollar for talking to us. We tried to avoid teenagers the rest of the day. We checked out the surprisingly modern mall, before walking back to our hospedaje. Later, we sat near the waterfront and talked while we waited for our night bus. Puerto Montt was not exciting, or even interesting really. But it is a typical Chilean town and gave us a better feel for the country.

Hospedajes, or residencials, are a type of boarding-house/hostel. They are generally the most economical form of lodging (besides camping), have shared bathrooms and thin walls. Guests may be foreign or domestic tourists, short-term borders (like teachers), or locals in town for business. The rooms are part of a family home, and, unlike other family-run places we have stayed, the home and rooms share the main entrance, kitchen facilities, etc. Each hospedaje we’ve stayed at in Chile has had a different feel and each has been an interesting experience as we stay in someone’s home. The first few we have stayed at have been very welcoming, and though facilities were shared, we at least had a bit of privacy and were left to ourselves when in our rooms. After this last one though, we are ready for a change. First of all, we were a bit turned off by the fact that guests must pay for the use for the kitchen (apparently standard in Coyhaique, though we have not seen this anywhere else). More than one shower a day will cost you extra, as will sitting in the living room.
The spirited abuela who is the owner, while friendly and helpful, is also loud and we can always hear her squawking away in the kitchen or hallway. On the second night we were in our room and she knocked on the door to see if another guest could use our tv. It was an odd request, however I didn’t mind giving up the tv, but having this lady knock on our door like we were relatives rather than paying guests was a bit annoying. Much later that night I had trouble falling asleep due to the two guys upstairs. Through the thin walls I could clearly hear them pop open beer cans and yap away at their jolly conversation. I contemplated going upstairs to ask them to be quite, but really didn’t want to get out of bed, and didn’t want to upset them. Finally I could take it no longer (it was one or two in the morning already) and when I heard the voices stop and footsteps coming downstairs to the bathroom, which was next door to our room, I got out of bed and waited in our doorway for the beer-pisser to emerge. He was a bit startled to see me standing there when he opened the door. I smiled and asked if he was in the room above mine. No, he shook his head. Sure you’re not, mr beer breath, I thought to myself. I innocently said, in Spanish, “Oh, sorry. You know, there are two guys up there talking so loudly I can hear every word they are saying.” He gave me a guilty look and I said goodnight as he headed upstairs. The chatting ceased. Then, it started again, but this time it was just one man on the phone. But thankfully that soon ended as well and I was finally able to fall back asleep.

Noisy people aside, Coyhaique is mildly interesting. This town is the center of activity for the region and is thus home to several banks, pharmacies, a hospital, and the central plaza even has Wi-Fi, though I don’t think many residents actually own laptops. Perhaps the most appealing aspect of “big townness” is the two big grocery stores. These supply everything from produce, canned goods, lots of beverages, bakeries, sundries, Christmas decorations, meat, cheese, and huge sacks of flour. The man I sat next to on the bus ride here told me that every few months he and his wife come to Coyhaique to restock on their food supplies. (This particular time he was coming to town for a minor operation at the hospital, which unfortunately had to be rescheduled due to the public service workers’ strike.) I saw many other people pushing around completely loaded carts who must have been doing the same. Matt and I didn’t buy nearly as much as these people, though we did enjoy the selection after the last couple of days in the middle of nowhere. Plus Coyhaique is set admist beautiful scenery, so despite a noisy guesthouse, it wasn´t too bad.

Coyhaique is the largest town in Chile’s Region XI and contains half of its population. That’s not saying much, since Region XI only has 100,000 inhabitants. It is surprising that so few people live in such a large area, but we haven’t seen very many people during our past few days of driving. The terrain is rugged and since arriving in Patagonia, everywhere has been pretty desolate. We’ve often driven for hours without passing a village or people. As Joylani commented after our four drive from Chile Chico to Guadal, “We drove for four hours and saw three cars, one tractor, and three horses.” With that in mind, Coyhaique’s importance is probably derived from the lack of anything (except scenery) in the surrounding region. It is a relatively scenic town, hemmed in by mountains alongside the Rio Simpson, but it’s things like the internet, the bakery, the supermarket, and ATMs that we’re enjoying here. The past week hasn’t been rough really, but its nice to arrive in a place with things. As ridiculous as it sounds, I’m almost tired to just looking at nice scenery. So, while here, we’ll stock up on pesos and catch-up on our cyber lives. With not much else to do in Coyhaique, we’ll head to Puerto Montt tomorrow.

Although Puerto Tranquilo was nice, it was a bit too tranquilo and one day was enough for us. At 10:15am, exactly 24 hours after we arrived, we set off for Coyhaique. After my posts on the scenery the past few days, this blog will seem like a broken record, but today’s scenery was again spectacular. The most unusual thing about the drive though was that our van hit and killed a pudu. We read that the pudu is in danger of extinction and even the guy sitting next to Joylani said he’d only seen one in the seven years he’s lived in the region (well, now he’s seen two). He was actually an interesting, if not a bit eccentric, character to talk to. He and his wife moved to Chile from Germany seven years ago. They live in a little far-flung place called Puerto Grasse, although he said its smaller than a village. He has a guesthouse, but doesn’t get many guests: just ice-climbers and scientists who study glaciers. But he gets by without any business, as he mentioned he can buy goats from his neighbors for about $40. I think he talked so much and gave us a tour of the drive because he never talks to people, living such an isolated existence. He only goes to Coyhaique every three months to stock up on essential supplies. In a way, we were like him- heading to Coyhaique to get out of the woods.

Pudu is a species of really small deer (I have heard they are the smallest, but I am pretty sure I saw more dainty ones in a museum in Brunei).  It is really rare to actually see one, and our minibus had the unfortunate happenstance to hit one.  It was so small that until the drive stopped a ways down the road and everyone started getting out, I didn’t realize we had hit anything at all (it was a pretty bumpy ride already).  We were the only tourists on the bus, but everyone was equally in awe of seeing such a rare creature.  For a few minutes our small group solemnly stood on the side of the road watching it.  And then one of the men picked it up to take it to the side of the road.  He propped it up over a log, in a hunting pose, as another passenger snapped a photo.  After trying a few positions to place the dying animal, he settled on placing it behind the log, out of view from the road.  From the posing, to the placing, to actual realization that our driver and bus contributed to the possible extinction of this little animal, the whole event was a bit surreal for something (road kill) that is generally mundane.