Chile

Greetings from the land of volcanoes, stray dogs and instant coffee - otherwise known as Chile. Despite the often chilly fall weather, we´ve enjoyed the first two of the country´s defining attributes and I´ve managed to find some nice alternatives to the third.

After our triumphant hiking adventure in Patagonia´s Torres del Paine, we were treated to more spectacular mountain scenery on our drive through Chile´s Lake District, though we also endured our second volcano flop of the trip. Unlike our failure in Nicaragua due to excessive flabbiness, however, high winds forced us to abort the scaling of the very symmetrical and very active Volcan Villarrica after about an hour of climbing. The pity is that we could have slid down the mountainside in the snow, using pickaxes as brakes. More or less.

As a nice consolation, we discovered a fantastic complex of volcano-heated thermal springs in a waterfall-fed canyon called Termas Geometricas. We spent the rest of the afternoon hopping from pool to pool, enjoying the Japanese-style design with its rustic red-painted changing sheds and walkways - and only reluctantly left what has been the hottest water we´ve yet found in the country.

On our week-long tour of the scenic Lake District (south of Santiago) we also sampled some very nice lager beer, sauerkrat and pork sandwiches in the heavily German-influenced region. One of our best lunches, in fact, was at a chain restaurant called Bavaria. To our great disappointment, though, the waiters did not wear lederhosen.

And then there are the dogs. Chileans love them, but seem to be incapable of keeping them in any one location for very long. Hence entire packs of what look like extras from a lovable Disney movie endlessly roam the nation´s streets, yards, highways, woods, riversides and any other accessible surface. Fortunately, they´re quite friendly, and several only half-heartedly tried chasing our car while a small army of floppy-eared mutts looked on with only mild interest.

As we´ve found, the country´s many mountains represent only a small fraction of Chile´s natural beauty. Near the resort town of Pucon, we spent a day in the lovely and well-maintained Huerquehue National Park where we hiked up to a lake ringed by old-growth monkey puzzle trees, or araucaria. We had seen one or two of these odd-looking evergreens in botanical gardens but never so many big ones growing wild. Very impressive. Here´s a view of the lake in the late afternoon sun.

Also noteworthy is the beautiful but otherwise deserted wooden lodge where we stayed in the park that night and where we enjoyed a superb wine-accompanied dinner. Despite its many attractions, it listed as its prime amenity the unusual fact that it served real coffee rather than Nescafe instant for breakfast. Priorities, priorities.

Geoff has been gradually adding to his list of new bird sightings, with some colorful ibises and species spotted in the Chilean countryside. Other species have apparently sensed his affection for avian life and sought him out like an old friend. Hiking back to our rental car from the park lodge, for example, he was befriended by a flock of local chickens residing on park-bordering farms, who were really, really reluctant to let him leave after he fed them some delicious trail mix. Here´s a nice shot of them in hot pursuit, seemingly screaming, "Ah, kind sir, just a bit more?!!"

After our narrow escape, we headed down to Chiloe, a large and very atmospheric island known for its fishing, folklore and a collection of antique, Jesuit built, wood-shingled churches that have been preserved as a UNESCO world heritage site. As with the rest of the Lake District, we had nearly every tourist spot to ourselves and encountered plenty of dogs and Nescafe. The old churches were indeed fascinating, though several of them were populated only by giant black vultures perched atop their steeples.

We´re now in Santiago, which is quite large but vibrant and full of interesting art. The city´s museum of pre-Colombian art is nop-notch and apart from preserved textiles, burial urns, and a wonderful sculpture of a monkey skin-wearing warrrior, contains some really old pots that were undoubtedly used for the country´s first batches of instant coffee.

We did it. And we have the stinky clothes to prove it.

Our four-day trek through Chile's Torres del Paine national park required frequent last-minute changes of plan, waterproof jackets, pants and backpack covers and most importantly, a complete indifference to clothes and boots that reeked of cheese left in a hot car for several weeks.

After a few days of less-than-ideal weather, however, we lucked out with a magnificent view of the park's three iconic towers on our last, stunningly beautiful day.

(First, though, one image from Lima, Peru, where the facade of the beautiful La Merced chuch formed a striking counterpoint to a military statue across the square):

Even before officially entering Torres del Paine, we saw three of the big five animals inhabiting the area: several guanacos, which are essentially llamas; the Chilean condor; and the nandu or lesser rhea, a smaller cousin of the ostrich. Which leaves the puma and a small deer species, both of which were apparently smart enough to take cover in the foul weather. We're also fairly sure we spotted a few Chilean flamingoes, which were likely regretting their decision to dawdle a bit more before heading north with the rest of the flock.

The most popular hiking route through the park is a W-shaped trail, with the towers most visible at the W's final tip. Due to the lousy weather, though, the park rangers suggested we save them for last, which ended up being great advice. A brief recap:

Day one: Our first icebergs. After donning our so-called rain-proof outfits and backpack covers that made us look like workers responding to a chemical spill, we caught a catamaran across a lake and slogged 11 kilometers in the rain and snow past another large lake to a rustic refugio. The smallish cabin was a bit like a ramshackle skiing lodge, with bunkbeds crammed into tiny upstairs rooms and a common space with a small fireplace on the ground floor. The skies cleared a bit toward the end of the day, and we were able to admire the impressive Glacier Grey, which has scoured away the rock around it even as it retreats, leaving large blue icebergs floating in the slowly expanding Lago Grey. Monkey, our travel mascot, had a particularly nice view.

Day two: We began with a nice hike to get to a closer vantage point of the glacier.

After much oohing and ahhing, we headed back the way we had come and stayed in the far cushier Paine Grande refugio - about 19 kilometers of hiking in all. After blissfully hot showers and an impressive dinner, we were able to get to know some of our fellow travelers a bit more (a big hello to Gareth and Suzanne from London, Marilou and Wilbert from Amsterdam, Luis from Madrid and Eric from Beijing). Clothes were beginning to have that not-so-fresh aroma.

Day three: A bit of a washout. We had planned to hike a good bit of the base of the W and see the "not to be missed" Valle Frances. After an hour of hiking through pelting rain and gusts that easily topped 60 miles an hour, we were completely soaked, absolutely miserable and unanimous in our decision to miss the valley in favor of another boat and bus ride to a brand new and rather warm refugio that would at least allow us a shot of the seeing the towers the following day. Clothes had a rather indescribable fragrance.

Day four: A welcome break in the weather. A pre-dawn hike led us up through pasture land, around a mountain, into the woods and finally, after a precarious and exhausting scramble up a steep pile of icy boulders that ranks as one of the more adventurous things we've yet done, we were rewarded with a spectacular view of the three towers and a small lake below them. Despite the howling wind and our aching muscles, we were able to savor the sight and bask in the sunshine with our hiking companions, Gareth, Suzanne and Eric:

We're now recovering at a wonderful hotel called Indigo with impressive views of Puerto Natale's Last Hope Fjord, and the clothes have been thankfully banished to a laundry service.