Sarah and I had a few hours to spare at the hostel before our very first South American night bus that took off at 11:15pm. We walked down to a yet to be visited district in Valpo which was rather charming with beautiful cafes and restaurants. We stopped at a cheap pub and ordered a quarter chicken with fries and a Pepsi to tie us over for the night as we listened to corny Spanish pop music. We strolled down the streets and found a really nice cafe with a balcony where we enjoyed a rather interesting orange custard cake which was variable in texture. Sarah commented on my eating rituals, “you stab at it, stare at it, eat it and stab at it some more.” We walked back up the moon lit cobble stone streets to our hostel one last time and napped in our beds for an hour or so, shivering from the sub zero temperatures.
We made sure to get to the bus station earlier than later in order to avoid another missed bus. We sat on a bench outside the terminal and these two local girls came up to us and sat right beside Sarah. We thought this odd as there was a lot of space on the bench, a light went off in my head. Just seconds later the horrible thief woman pretended to be looking into her friend’s bag. I saw her hands unzip part of Sarah’s bag. I yelled “Hey!” as best as I possibly could and they pretended to just walk away. Sarah didn’t realize what had gone on but she realized her bag had been opened. We both bitched about how violated we felt and decided to call the thief girl “Fake Louis Vuitton Punta.” She wore this tacky LV hat and purse and kinda paced around the terminal for the rest of the night before we left. We decided if this ever happened again we would confront the evil villain to their face.
Our Tur Bus, seven hour Classico (normal upright and uncomfortable seats) bus ride was hellish. Sarah lay sprawled across my lap and my left foot went numb after two hours. I could not wait to get off that thing. As the bus arrived in Concepcion the little bus man handed out courtesy cookies and coffee which I found rather humorous. We arrived at the terminal in the dark at 6am and went right to the only open tour operator and booked a bus to Temuco as soon as possible. Luckily the four hour bus to Temuco was barely full and left at 6:30am! We hopped on our next bus and dozed off until the sun rose at around 8am. Temuco is a small little town which acts as a hub for all of the native communities on the hillsides. We got onto our last bus of the day which lasted two hours. It was sort of a garbage dump on wheels but it got us where we wanted to go for only four dollars. The scenery here is gorgeous: huge shimmering lakes, towering mountains, crashing rivers and fog gripping the horizon.
Driving up to Pucon we could see the shimmering lake under the huffing cone of 2857m Volcan Villarica. The make shift road leading up to Pucon is lined with really beautiful resorts, hotels and cute B&B’s. We walked straight to our cute little chalet hostel called Refugio and were welcomed with open arms. The hostel is perfect: sleeps only a few people and has a warm fireplace and intimate social area downstairs. I grabbed a much needed shower and stood in my cool room listening to the pitter patter of rain on the top of the metal rooftops above.
The sun was trying to peak through the fog covered mountains as we walked to the local supermarket to make ourselves dinner. I bought a bottle of Santa Carolina Carmenere and made a big pot of pasta with onions, tomatoes, garlic, cab sauv, ground beef and aged cheddar. The owner of the hostel has the most adorable black lab (with clean silky fur, unlike that of the wild dogs we have been chased by every day). Sarah sat by the fireplace and I sat on the hanging hammock chair as we chatted with an incredibly eccentric German woman. She offered us some Pitronas which look like cones you may find laying on the forest floor. She had heated them up in a pan and told us to bite down on one side and push the fruit through. I nibbled at this decadent Chilean fruit and tried not to throw up (it was the texture of wax and tasted like stale fish). She was disappointed I didn’t eat my entire portion. I lay on the couch cuddling with Sarah under the covers as my hacking cough continued to get worse. I took a quick trip to an icy cold toilet seat and realized that icy bum is one of the most uncomfortable (and shocking experiences) one can have. I didn’t have the energy to read my book so I headed to bed and instantly fell asleep. I woke up in the pitch black of night aching all over with a fever and a hacking cough that could kill a cat. I was officially illin. I rolled around in my bed all night and purged myself to cry as I thought I should make this illness
intensely dramatic.
I finally had had enough of my aching body so I got up and took two Robaxacet. I woke up at 11am and the pain had gone away which was a relief. We walked through the town towards the lake and found ourselves a new friend. A bearded canine which Sarah instantly fell in love with. The beach sand was a dark black volcanic rock with several brightly covered overturned row boats. We sat and stared out into the waves and rolling hills in the distance. Wishing we could actually see the mountains that were draped in cloud cover. Walking back to the main street we stopped at a little Cafe and slowly sipped a cafe latte and munched on apple strudel. There is a large orange sign on the main street that roughly translates into something about running away from the volcano when the city siren goes off. Sarah and I joked about how dying here under a plume of volcanic ash would be the perfect romantic Shakespearean death. A sudden intense exhaustion fell over me as we paid the bill and I realized I needed sleep pronto. We bid the cafe owner and her hardcore uni-brow sporting son good day and jumped right into our cozy beds.
I lay in bed for a few hours and finally decided I needed to be proactive about my condition. I called my sister and she gave me some tips on what drugs I should take. I downed them immediately and headed to the tiny nook of a bathroom to shower. I simply love steam, showers and saunas. They relax the pained muscles when sick. It took me about an hour to figure out how to get the hot water working. I sort of pouted and kicked the nozzle hoping a stiff thrust would heat up the ice cold water guzzling out of the tap. I finally got the hot water working after running the cold water for several years. I stepped in the shower and my feet (which are the only parts of my body that are stiff and ice cold) started to feel as though they were being stabbed by little needle pricks. I stood in a half comatose state under the small little shower head trying to run around to get wet. I almost fainted at one point and grabbed the curtain to give my aching body some leverage. Being sick on vacation, is, so, fun.
Sarah and I spent the late afternoon reading by the fire. She bought herself some sandwich supplies and we sat by the dinner table munching on cheese. I chatted with a family from Tasmania which was rather interesting. They have two daughters, seven and nine both of who chatted with us as their parents made dinner (and appeared rather exhausted). Get this: this family of four is going on a seven month vacation! Australians never cease to amaze me. They have taken their two daughters to Egypt, Italy, Austria and Chile thus far. I can’t imagine traveling with two little girls for that long but they seem to be enjoying their trip of a lifetime immensely.
In a last minute heroic decision I decided to join Sarah and the wack job from Germany on a four hour excursion to a volcanic hot springs, located in the middle of nowhere. We sped down the most rural of roads and I felt like I was sitting on a cheap washing machine on turbo cycle as I bumped up and down along the pot holes. Cows have free reign here and apparently thoroughly enjoy standing along streets at 10pm at night. We swerved for about 30 minutes around bouncing rabbits and dumb loitering bovine, surreal. The wacko German (we still don´t know her name) spent the entire car ride telling Sarah she wasn´t sufficiently fluent in Spanish. She said a variety of other obnoxious things including several comments regarding the status of my relationship with Sarah. She claimed it is impossible to travel with a man without becoming intimately involved. We just looked at each other and laughed, assuring her our suppressed passions for one another dare not become a problem.
We arrived at the hot springs and had to walk down about 1000 wet and slippery make shift stairs with barely visible light leading our way. I could hear the rumbling of waterfalls and speedy rivers ahead. We changed in a little cottage and Sarah was the first to hop into the biggest pool directly beneath the chalet. I put one foot in and screamed. My feet were freezing from the drive here and the water felt as though it were scolding! It took me several minutes to adjust my body to the temperature of the water. I soon found myself immersed in volcanic mineral water the temperature of a steaming apple pie. Sarah and I sat on a rock as we rolled our eyes at the crazy German as she continued to say ridiculous things. We decided to leave the big pool in search of a smaller more intimate location. The clouds started to let down a mist of rain water as we stepped into a knee high pool of cooler pool of water. Sarah and I gossiped about what would be worse…living with the crazy German lady or with the neurotic hostel owner in Santiago for the rest of our lives. After two hours of soaking we cleaned up, walked back up a thousand or so steps at some moment past 11pm and swerved around several more cows as we braced ourselves on the bounding rural roads through the mountains and back to our hostel in Pucon.
Our hostel has no heat, well sometimes it does but certainly not in our bedroom. I froze myself to shiver our last night in our little chalet cottage as I coughed myself awake. My throat was sore and volatile. We purchased a bus ticket to Puerto Montt departing at 10:30am and enjoyed the first and last glimpse of the surrounding mountains before we headed further south towards the freezing Antarctic.
