The last time we wrote our trip was in jeopardy of ending before it even began. I can proudly report that our trusty steed has over to 1,100 miles behind her. Here’s how it all unfolded from Mendoza.
Our time in Mendoza was twofold. On one hand we were in complete disarray in trying to figure out our next move with our immobile car, and on the other hand we were doing our best to enjoy ourselves in a spot we had looked forward to visiting since we first discovered how our palettes danced to the taste of the Mendoza Malbec wines. We stayed with Francisco at TikayKilla lodge for the rest of our time in Mendoza and it felt as if we were staying with a close friend. He cooked us meals, invited us to join him and his friends for a bbq, drank numerous bottles of wine together and we just really enjoyed spending time hanging out in his company. With the help of numerous local Argentinians we had arranged to tow the car back to Santiago where we could calculate our next step as we could not replace a Chilean engine with an Argentinian one (not legally anyway) and the cost of parts in Argentina were prohibitively expensive. By this time, Osvaldo had somehow sorted out fixing our windshield wiper motor by having the copper re-wound and replacing all the resistors – “Argentines can fix anything” as he told us when we first met him. We were not permitted to leave Mendoza, however without a proper sendoff from the Land Rover Club, who invited us along on an impromptu “asado” (BBQ) in the foothills of the Andes. Mario, the mechanic, and Hans introduced us to the rest of their gang and treated us to round after round of chorizo and carne. A great way to end our stay in beautiful Mendoza.
The next morning was the start of the long journey back up and over the Andes. The trick of this trip would be that we would have to split up for the first, and definitely last time while traveling. The tow truck only had room for one passenger which meant that Jo would have to make the trip by bus back to Santiago and make her own way to the apartment we had booked. Francisco, now a dear friend, escorted Jo to the bus station and sent word to me once she was safely on a bus heading west. My trip wouldn’t be so easy. The car was loaded on the bed of a tow truck that appeared in worse condition that our car itself. I said my goodbyes and gave my thanks to Mario and he sent me off with a fine bottle of Mendoza Malbec (once again, everyone has been so generous to us here). I knew we were in for a long haul when only an hour into the 7-8 hour journey we had to pull over as the truck was overheating (isn’t this the same problem we had with our car?). The truck driver just added a liter of water to the radiator as he apparently does about every of every day, waited a bit for the engine to cool off and we were back on the road. Five more hours and five more overheating stops later and we were at the border. The driver had a quick word with the border patrol and came back to inform me that this was as far as he could tow me….what????
Apparently, Argentinian tow trucks don’t have the authority to work in Chile so this was the end of the line for him. So he unloaded my car, gave me his best wishes and headed back East. A quick chat with the border patrol and they had called another tow truck to come pick me up to take me the rest of the way. 30 minutes maximum they promised. Four and a half hours later there was word that he was close by. With the help of two border patrolman and one PDI officer, we pushed the car across the border, through customs and into Chile.
The thing I hadn’t mentioned yet was Jo’s progress along the same strip of road over the Andes. The plan was for her to take the bus to Santiago, hop in a cab and check into the apartment we had booked so we can make contact with each other. I tried calling the apartment desk for confirmation of her safe arrival. They said she had not yet arrived but they would give me a call once she did arrive. Six phone calls later and they still insist she has not arrived. I had three different border control personnel phoning the apartment, bus company and bus station searching for Jo’s whereabouts. By the time I was pushed across the border I was just about in panic mode. A customs officer tried his luck on his cell phone, had a quick word with someone on the other end and soon enough had Jo on the phone for me. She had been sitting in the apartment watching a big bang theory marathon for the last 3 hours. Stupid receptionist! Right, all is well, now to get me and the car back safely.
The second tow truck had me back in Santiago by 11 pm. What a day! Now for a car rescue plan. We reluctantly met with Arturo the next day who informed me that he has a new head to give to us to install into our car. The problem was that we did not have Mario to install it for us properly. He introduced us to a “4x4 expert mechanic” who promised he’d have us back on the road and good as new in two days. At this point we really felt like we were stuck between a rock and a hard place and wanted just to hit the road as soon as possible and this we thought was our best option.
Our time in Mendoza was twofold. On one hand we were in complete disarray in trying to figure out our next move with our immobile car, and on the other hand we were doing our best to enjoy ourselves in a spot we had looked forward to visiting since we first discovered how our palettes danced to the taste of the Mendoza Malbec wines. We stayed with Francisco at TikayKilla lodge for the rest of our time in Mendoza and it felt as if we were staying with a close friend. He cooked us meals, invited us to join him and his friends for a bbq, drank numerous bottles of wine together and we just really enjoyed spending time hanging out in his company. With the help of numerous local Argentinians we had arranged to tow the car back to Santiago where we could calculate our next step as we could not replace a Chilean engine with an Argentinian one (not legally anyway) and the cost of parts in Argentina were prohibitively expensive. By this time, Osvaldo had somehow sorted out fixing our windshield wiper motor by having the copper re-wound and replacing all the resistors – “Argentines can fix anything” as he told us when we first met him. We were not permitted to leave Mendoza, however without a proper sendoff from the Land Rover Club, who invited us along on an impromptu “asado” (BBQ) in the foothills of the Andes. Mario, the mechanic, and Hans introduced us to the rest of their gang and treated us to round after round of chorizo and carne. A great way to end our stay in beautiful Mendoza.
The next morning was the start of the long journey back up and over the Andes. The trick of this trip would be that we would have to split up for the first, and definitely last time while traveling. The tow truck only had room for one passenger which meant that Jo would have to make the trip by bus back to Santiago and make her own way to the apartment we had booked. Francisco, now a dear friend, escorted Jo to the bus station and sent word to me once she was safely on a bus heading west. My trip wouldn’t be so easy. The car was loaded on the bed of a tow truck that appeared in worse condition that our car itself. I said my goodbyes and gave my thanks to Mario and he sent me off with a fine bottle of Mendoza Malbec (once again, everyone has been so generous to us here). I knew we were in for a long haul when only an hour into the 7-8 hour journey we had to pull over as the truck was overheating (isn’t this the same problem we had with our car?). The truck driver just added a liter of water to the radiator as he apparently does about every of every day, waited a bit for the engine to cool off and we were back on the road. Five more hours and five more overheating stops later and we were at the border. The driver had a quick word with the border patrol and came back to inform me that this was as far as he could tow me….what????
Apparently, Argentinian tow trucks don’t have the authority to work in Chile so this was the end of the line for him. So he unloaded my car, gave me his best wishes and headed back East. A quick chat with the border patrol and they had called another tow truck to come pick me up to take me the rest of the way. 30 minutes maximum they promised. Four and a half hours later there was word that he was close by. With the help of two border patrolman and one PDI officer, we pushed the car across the border, through customs and into Chile.
The thing I hadn’t mentioned yet was Jo’s progress along the same strip of road over the Andes. The plan was for her to take the bus to Santiago, hop in a cab and check into the apartment we had booked so we can make contact with each other. I tried calling the apartment desk for confirmation of her safe arrival. They said she had not yet arrived but they would give me a call once she did arrive. Six phone calls later and they still insist she has not arrived. I had three different border control personnel phoning the apartment, bus company and bus station searching for Jo’s whereabouts. By the time I was pushed across the border I was just about in panic mode. A customs officer tried his luck on his cell phone, had a quick word with someone on the other end and soon enough had Jo on the phone for me. She had been sitting in the apartment watching a big bang theory marathon for the last 3 hours. Stupid receptionist! Right, all is well, now to get me and the car back safely.
The second tow truck had me back in Santiago by 11 pm. What a day! Now for a car rescue plan. We reluctantly met with Arturo the next day who informed me that he has a new head to give to us to install into our car. The problem was that we did not have Mario to install it for us properly. He introduced us to a “4x4 expert mechanic” who promised he’d have us back on the road and good as new in two days. At this point we really felt like we were stuck between a rock and a hard place and wanted just to hit the road as soon as possible and this we thought was our best option.
The new cylinder head arrived the next day and the mechanic got busy putting the engine back together. The next day I returned to retrieve a “road worthy” vehicle. On our test drive, once the engine was hot and got into some high revs, something went wrong. A portion of the vacuum system in the engine had to be cut during disassembly and was not properly reassembled. The “expert mechanic” explained to me that since this car had been converted from a catalytic to a fuel injected engine that this tube was no longer needed. He plugged the tube, disconnected suction of the vacuum system and sent me on my way. It all seemed fine for the first 20 minutes or so until the engine started revving quite high in neutral. Not cool. Sure enough when we went back to find the mechanic in the morning he was nowhere to be found and did not answer his phone…big surprise. Since we were all checked out of our apartment and the car was all packed up to hit the road we went searching for another mechanic, this was mechanic #7 for those of you keeping count. The mechanic we found turned out to be a welder and not a mechanic but even he could tell us that this tube needed to be replaced and directed us to a mechanic who could do the job. Unfortunately it was Saturday afternoon at this point and he could not find a replacement part until Monday. Great! Back to Santaigo!
We promptly checked into our 10th different accommodation in Santiago to wait out the weekend. Monday morning we headed back to mechanic #8 who told us it would be a half day job. A simple job became a very difficult job as he soon learned that his muscle was no match for the 22 year old beast. A one man, half day job turned into a three-man, 9 hour job. All the while Jo and I pretty much staring at them, willing them forward. By 8 pm we were finally on the road heading south. We had planned a 4 hour drive for that day but instead pulled over to sleep at a Copec gas station amongst all the 18-wheelers. It was at this point that we felt the car needed a new, hopefully luckier, name. Taking into account everything the car had put us through to this point, we appropriately named her “el diablo”, the devil.
Early to rise, we hit the road to make up some ground. We hoped to hit the lakes district as quickly as possible, but el diablo had some other thoughts. Every 40 kms or so the temperature gage would start to creep higher so we would pull over to let her cool down. The radiator was full of coolant, so no issues there. It was at this point that el diablo let us in on another one of her little secrets: she likes to drink oil. Once she was all topped off with high mileage oil she purred like a kitten(or rattled like a coin in a tin can) and stayed cool as the other side of the pillow. We were now ready to eat up some miles, but at 50mph, it could take some time.
We promptly checked into our 10th different accommodation in Santiago to wait out the weekend. Monday morning we headed back to mechanic #8 who told us it would be a half day job. A simple job became a very difficult job as he soon learned that his muscle was no match for the 22 year old beast. A one man, half day job turned into a three-man, 9 hour job. All the while Jo and I pretty much staring at them, willing them forward. By 8 pm we were finally on the road heading south. We had planned a 4 hour drive for that day but instead pulled over to sleep at a Copec gas station amongst all the 18-wheelers. It was at this point that we felt the car needed a new, hopefully luckier, name. Taking into account everything the car had put us through to this point, we appropriately named her “el diablo”, the devil.
Early to rise, we hit the road to make up some ground. We hoped to hit the lakes district as quickly as possible, but el diablo had some other thoughts. Every 40 kms or so the temperature gage would start to creep higher so we would pull over to let her cool down. The radiator was full of coolant, so no issues there. It was at this point that el diablo let us in on another one of her little secrets: she likes to drink oil. Once she was all topped off with high mileage oil she purred like a kitten(or rattled like a coin in a tin can) and stayed cool as the other side of the pillow. We were now ready to eat up some miles, but at 50mph, it could take some time.
Our first destination was Parque Nacional Conguillio. With the time traps the previous day, we made it to a campsite just outside the park where we rested up for the following day. This was our first night in high altitude and we made a note that we would need to buy additional blankets as sleeping in our -5°C sleeping bags and several layers of clothes just wasn’t going to cut it. Conguillio’s draw is centered around the active Volcano Llaima which has violently erupted 35 times in recorded history. The entire park is located on fields of volcanic rock and gravel. The native trees to this park are reminiscent of scenes from Jurassic Park. Even the way the dirt roads were carved through the forest and volcanic rock were quite pre-historic. We were just expecting a pterodactyl to swoop in between the trees at any point. We gave ourselves a full day and night there to do some short hikes and take in the gorgeous scenery of the magnificent volcano standing tall amongst the surrounding mountains and lakes.
We kept heading south from there to an even grander volcano, Volcan Osorno, and found our first beach camp on the shores of Lago Todos Los Santos in Parque Nacional Vicente Perez Rosales. We didn’t have a whole lot of time here as the road to the park was more gravel than we expected. The stillness of the lake was just what the doctor ordered. Soon after the sun set behind us we watched as the moon rose from the mist on the far side of the lake. The next morning we got a glimpse of what this trip would be like if we were bussing through this continent. A quick stop at some waterfalls on the way out of the park found us surrounded by hundreds of camera wielding tourists fresh off the bus. Somehow the scenery is not so serene when you witness it as part of a mob. Further south to quieter pastures we headed.
Our next heading was the mythological island of Chiloe, which was recently ranked by National Geographic as a top 5 island destination for its pristine seascapes and proctected forests. We headed there for the top notch seafood. We weren’t quite sure how long we would spend there as ferries off the island are hard to come by. Our first destination was to Panuhuil, the launching point for tours out to view penguins. We decided to make a night of it as we found some amazing cabanas on a bluff overlooking the beach that we just couldn’t pass up. A very relaxing night, with our chef at the lodge restaurant cooking by candle light due to the frequent power cuts was followed by a morning boatride out to three small islands inhabited by Magellanic and homboldt penguins. A tiny fishing boat being thrown around by the pacific ocean was our vessel for viewing the cute little birds. It was definitely worth the extra hour drive down the gravel path to reach the beach.
The next day we would learn that the next ferry off of Chiloe wasn’t for another 5 days. With the ferry’s website down and no one answering phones for days, we had to drive 2.5 hours to get this info. This now meant we would have enough time further explore the island. Being late in the day and unable to find any accommodation in the island’s capital, we had to settle for an overpriced campsite just outside of town. The one saving grace of this place were the three very young puppies that were wandering between the sites, one of which took a liking to us and settled under our table for the entire eveing…too cute. Early the next morning we headed to a town called Chonchi which was hosting the Festival Costumbrista that day. We apparently arrived a bit early as all the food stalls were still in the preparation stage but we were able to snap a few photos anyway. We thought it best to depart before the copious amounts of alcohol we spotted were consumed by the eager crowds. We headed back north to visit an even smaller island called Quinchao, accessible by about a 5 minute ferry from Dalcahue. The first town we came to on the island was called Curaco de Valez which has a small waterfront area whose brightest star is a tiny oyster shack that serves the islands finest and freshest seafood. We ordered some salmon ceviche followed by some of the largest oysters we have ever seen. I asked Jo how many she wanted, and she answered a dozen, until she saw them, emmm, one? I didn’t even know it was possible for them to grow this large but we ordered one of the large (the shell was about a foot long) and one medium (only about 9 inches). We’re used to slurping down oysters whole, so it was quite a different experience to have to cut the oyster into 6 pieces just to fit them in your mouth…but they were definitely delicious.
We kept heading south from there to an even grander volcano, Volcan Osorno, and found our first beach camp on the shores of Lago Todos Los Santos in Parque Nacional Vicente Perez Rosales. We didn’t have a whole lot of time here as the road to the park was more gravel than we expected. The stillness of the lake was just what the doctor ordered. Soon after the sun set behind us we watched as the moon rose from the mist on the far side of the lake. The next morning we got a glimpse of what this trip would be like if we were bussing through this continent. A quick stop at some waterfalls on the way out of the park found us surrounded by hundreds of camera wielding tourists fresh off the bus. Somehow the scenery is not so serene when you witness it as part of a mob. Further south to quieter pastures we headed.
Our next heading was the mythological island of Chiloe, which was recently ranked by National Geographic as a top 5 island destination for its pristine seascapes and proctected forests. We headed there for the top notch seafood. We weren’t quite sure how long we would spend there as ferries off the island are hard to come by. Our first destination was to Panuhuil, the launching point for tours out to view penguins. We decided to make a night of it as we found some amazing cabanas on a bluff overlooking the beach that we just couldn’t pass up. A very relaxing night, with our chef at the lodge restaurant cooking by candle light due to the frequent power cuts was followed by a morning boatride out to three small islands inhabited by Magellanic and homboldt penguins. A tiny fishing boat being thrown around by the pacific ocean was our vessel for viewing the cute little birds. It was definitely worth the extra hour drive down the gravel path to reach the beach.
The next day we would learn that the next ferry off of Chiloe wasn’t for another 5 days. With the ferry’s website down and no one answering phones for days, we had to drive 2.5 hours to get this info. This now meant we would have enough time further explore the island. Being late in the day and unable to find any accommodation in the island’s capital, we had to settle for an overpriced campsite just outside of town. The one saving grace of this place were the three very young puppies that were wandering between the sites, one of which took a liking to us and settled under our table for the entire eveing…too cute. Early the next morning we headed to a town called Chonchi which was hosting the Festival Costumbrista that day. We apparently arrived a bit early as all the food stalls were still in the preparation stage but we were able to snap a few photos anyway. We thought it best to depart before the copious amounts of alcohol we spotted were consumed by the eager crowds. We headed back north to visit an even smaller island called Quinchao, accessible by about a 5 minute ferry from Dalcahue. The first town we came to on the island was called Curaco de Valez which has a small waterfront area whose brightest star is a tiny oyster shack that serves the islands finest and freshest seafood. We ordered some salmon ceviche followed by some of the largest oysters we have ever seen. I asked Jo how many she wanted, and she answered a dozen, until she saw them, emmm, one? I didn’t even know it was possible for them to grow this large but we ordered one of the large (the shell was about a foot long) and one medium (only about 9 inches). We’re used to slurping down oysters whole, so it was quite a different experience to have to cut the oyster into 6 pieces just to fit them in your mouth…but they were definitely delicious.
The next stop on our extended tour of Chiloe was to double back to the infrequently visited tiny town of Chepu, the lone gateway into the northern portion of Parque Nacional Chiloe. The draw to this “town” is an eco-camp site called Chepu Adventures. This is truly an eco-site as the only water they have is collected rainwater, with the showers solar heated and the electricity all generated by their own windmill, which among other things powered a free wifi signal, quite unexpected in this remote area. They had nice cabanas on offer but we opted just to sleep in el diablo. Fernando, the visionary and owner of the place welcomed us in to his little slice of paradise. He and his wife offer a self-guided sunrise kayak trip on the Rio Grande. We were up at 4:45 to get suited up in our kayaking gear, as it is quite cold in this part of Chile, and were in the water by 6 am with only the moon and stars to guide us. This was by far the best kayaking experience of both our lives as we found ourselves surrounded by the morning mist in complete darkness as we heard the river birds and sealife wake up around us. We could definitely see why this island is draped in folklore of mythological creatures. It’s like nothing we’ve ever seen and find it very hard to describe. It seemed like a mixture of the start of a horror movie and a fairy tale, eerie and wonderfully peaceful at the same time. I’m pretty sure Jo got more than a few gallery shots on this magical morning.
Today was our last full day on Chiloe so we decided to take the long drive south slowly and break it up with a lunch in Castro. I was finally able to sample one of Chiloe’s signature dishes, a curanta. This is traditionally prepared similar to a pigroast in that they would heat up a bunch of rocks, stick them in the bottom of a pit, throw down some banana leaves as a base and throw on lots of their fresh shellfish namely mussels and clam and then some chicken, pork and chorizo for good measure, then cover the lot of it and let it cook. I ordered a plate and was presented with a feast fit for 4. It was quite good but a bit much for a lunch. Since there again was no accommodation available in Castro we headed all the way south to the port town of Quellon from which our boat back to the mainland departs tomorrow – what a shithole this town is. Our hotel has a bum sitting on the front step presumably in case we get lost we can just follow his scent back home. The saving grace of the town was the little restaurant called Maduro that just served up some surprising delicious moist salmon and exquisitely cooked shrimp – well seasoned food is a rarity in Chiloe and Chile in general so this was quite a find.
Tomorrow we have a midnight ferry ride that will have us in Chaiten by 7 am where we will begin driving the Austral Highway which is the raw bit of Chile that we have been looking forward to exploring. Hopefully we’ll finally get away from the seemingly hundreds of hitchhikers that we have seen all the way through Chile thus far. We were expecting to run into lot of tourists in our travels but what we weren’t expecting is for those tourists to be mostly Chilean backpackers. Hopefully the next time we post a blog we will be deep into the heart of Patagonia…
Today was our last full day on Chiloe so we decided to take the long drive south slowly and break it up with a lunch in Castro. I was finally able to sample one of Chiloe’s signature dishes, a curanta. This is traditionally prepared similar to a pigroast in that they would heat up a bunch of rocks, stick them in the bottom of a pit, throw down some banana leaves as a base and throw on lots of their fresh shellfish namely mussels and clam and then some chicken, pork and chorizo for good measure, then cover the lot of it and let it cook. I ordered a plate and was presented with a feast fit for 4. It was quite good but a bit much for a lunch. Since there again was no accommodation available in Castro we headed all the way south to the port town of Quellon from which our boat back to the mainland departs tomorrow – what a shithole this town is. Our hotel has a bum sitting on the front step presumably in case we get lost we can just follow his scent back home. The saving grace of the town was the little restaurant called Maduro that just served up some surprising delicious moist salmon and exquisitely cooked shrimp – well seasoned food is a rarity in Chiloe and Chile in general so this was quite a find.
Tomorrow we have a midnight ferry ride that will have us in Chaiten by 7 am where we will begin driving the Austral Highway which is the raw bit of Chile that we have been looking forward to exploring. Hopefully we’ll finally get away from the seemingly hundreds of hitchhikers that we have seen all the way through Chile thus far. We were expecting to run into lot of tourists in our travels but what we weren’t expecting is for those tourists to be mostly Chilean backpackers. Hopefully the next time we post a blog we will be deep into the heart of Patagonia…
click on the photo below to see gallery
