The Push to Puerto Montt

March 11 … another day at sea, still rough; it was not as bad as yesterday although I got woke up in the middle of the night with little things going bump.  I rolled over and went back to sleep.

We’ve been busy -- bingo, cards, port and culinary lectures, a tour of the kitchen, an opera singer (whoops, didn’t realize that til we were there, but at least she did sing other things, too), a violin player, who was excellent and invited a youngster up to play a duet with him, and the opera singer to sing with him, hot tubbing.  There have been a number of things to do and we’ve certainly not been bored.

Today, though, the decks were not off limits and we were able to go out and walk the deck again.  It was great to have fresh air, and we were like kittens on catnip.  It was wonderful.  Weather’s getting warmer as we go north, 59 degrees today but still some wind.

On Thursday, March 12, we reached Puerto Montt, Chile, and it was another full day.  We had to take the tenders to shore again.  From there we loaded onto a bus and off we went.  But not for long.  What we took for smog was actually smoke.  There was about an hour delay as we waited for police escorts through the smoky area.

 

We had smelled the smoke as soon as we had gotten up and started moving about.  At first we'd thought it was smog.

Normally there are 200 days and 7-1/2 feet of rain in this area.  In other words, that’s the most part of eight months.  Currently the area is on its 29^th day of no rain and that means there is only about 32 percent of the water they usually have in their tanks, which I took to mean reservoirs.  The fire got started and while they’ve been fighting it, part of the problem is that some of the trees here have a resin inside that catches fire and is very difficult to put out.

A lot of people use wheelbarrows.

Groceries, gardening tools, you name it. 

In the early days this area was quite dense and filled with a tree that was related to the Sequoia, some of which were a few thousand years old.  The inhabitants logged all of those, using them to build homes and other structures, and then exporting the timber, which was one their main two exports, the other being potatoes. 

We were told that the shingles on those old buildings would last 80 years because of the resin in the trees.

Potatoes are native to Chile, and there are about 20 different varieties.  Originally they were exported to Spain, then France and the rest of the world.  In the 1980s, they also began farming and then exporting a lot of salmon and we were told they use natural products from the ocean to obtain the right color for the salmon depending upon which market it is for.  Some like it pinker, while others prefer a more red color.  It is one of their top five exports.

We were also told that salmon would be our lunch when we stopped.  I don’t like salmon much at the best of times, but thought I should at least taste it. This area also provides about 75 percent of the milk, butter and dairy products for the country, much of which goes to the Nestle factory … think chocolate.  But I digress.

The city of Puerto Montt, established in 1853 after all of the tree clearing, is known as the gateway to Chile’s Lake District, and that’s where were heading.  While it was named in honor of Manuel Montt, Chile’s president from 1851 to 1861, it was largely settled by Germans.

Another boat ride ... to see the volcano from the water.

We were on our way to see volcanoes.  Chile has more than 2,000 volcanoes, and the ones we saw were spectacular, the cones rising high above us, 5,000 feet, 7,800 feet.  There was an eruption in 1961, shortly after an earthquake that registered a 9.8 on the Richter scale, so the Chileans had a double dose of disaster that year. 

Osorno, a volcano standing 8,700-feet high.

 The Pan American Highway had been built shortly before these disasters, and had to be rebuilt after. The Chileans also made sure to build using a lot of wood as it moves with a quake rather than break apart like concrete or bricks.

I was excited to be on this highway, and have been on parts of it on several excursions on the trip.  The reason is that my friend, David Brown – who I reconnected with on Facebook after 50 years (who has since passed) wanted to travel this highway to Tierra del Fuego.  While he never had the opportunity to do that, he met a lovely lady, Patricia, the harpist, who came to meet and see us in Buenos Aires.  And without David I never would have met Patricia.

We rode past other lakes until our bus deposited us at Lake Esmeralda for a boat ride.  This is a beautiful lake, known by two names, because it is shared with Argentina.  The 640,000-acre Vincent Perez Rosales National Park is the oldest national park in Chile, and is also shared with Argentina.  The park is home to wildlife as well as many volcanoes, with the Osorno Volcano reaching a lofty height of 8,700 feet.  It is known as the Fujiyama of South America.

From the boat the volcano was even more magnificent.

 The volcano rose magically in front of us on our boat ride, offering splendid views of its snow and ice-capped tip. The top had a bit of cloud cover and we were told that only happens like that a few times a year.  When we first saw it, it looked like some alien space ship coming down to take possession. It was a photograph not only for the camera, but for the memory, and in the sunshine was more than we had expected to see.

You see all kinds of things, even a bus taking a boat.

 From the lake we proceeded to Petrohue Falls, located inside the park.  Petrohue means misty place.  I guess that is the usual way it is here -- misty, rainy, foggy.  We were treated to a beautiful day and the babbling water rushing mightily through narrow ledges of lava rock to crash down on more lava rocks below.

Photos really don't do this beautiful sight justice.

 

The water has a force not to be reckoned with.

We had to navigate small trails, only a person wide in most areas, with slick rocks, some handrails, and polished lava rock … it was a bit of an adventure, especially when you have so many people all clambering about wanting to see the same thing.  But still, we all managed.

Photo op.

 

Then we were walking the trail out of the park.

Then it was lunchtime … yay.

Tourist attractions at the restaurant ... a llama.

There was a rhea, much like an ostrich.

He had beautiful eyes.

I was starving and I knew the salmon would taste pretty good.  Yep, it was okay.  We were served appetizers of small cheese empanadas that were delicious, salmon with mashed potatoes and vegetables, homemade bread, an apple dessert, and wine.  While I do not drink we were also served pisco, which is an alcoholic drink that is usually with a sour and some sugar.

Pisco ... not my style.

I did stick my tongue in it to see what it tasted like.  Yuck!!!  Very sour and I did not like it, reaffirming my dislike for alcohol.  However, a few tables away it appeared the Italians liked all of it as they were singing vigorously, so I took them our two bottles of wine as most of the people at our table weren’t drinking it.  The Italians responded with loud laughter and singing even more boisterously.  I was grateful they weren’t on our bus, although I’m sure their bus mates were not as thrilled.

There was some type of deer with different horns.

This appeared to be a young one.

And rocking horse swings ... for adults?

From lunch our bus took us to Puerto Varas, the City of Roses.  And yes, it was.  There were roses of a variety of colors along every street, seemingly in every yard, and in front of every shop. 

Beautiful roses everywhere.

Puerto Varas is a community of about 32,000 people and was established by German immigrants more than 150 years ago.  It’s located on another huge lake, Lake Llanquihue, and has only had snow once in the past 75 years.  We would have some time here to shop or walk around. 

While the roses were beautiful, the best part of this visit was the flute players in the park.  They were playing a number of different flutes like none that I’d ever seen before.  They were all pretty much alike except for shape and sizes which were all different.

Ramon, on the right, and his sidekick.

The men were playing The Sounds of Silence, by Simon and Garfunkel … wonderful music from a wonderful time.  There is something about a flute that is mysterious, vibrant, yet eerie, a sound like no other instrumental sound.  These two gentlemen captured my attention and my head for a bit as they played.  I liked it so much I bought a couple of their CDs.  Yep, I’ll be playing that on my motorcycle.

Then it was back to the tenders and back to the ship for another evening’s entertainment and finally, bed.  Zzzzzzzzzzzz.