I live at the northernmost end of highway 101. In an idyllic fishing village built by Swedes more than a hundred years ago. A place for loners and lost souls. People running away from their old lives, or running to start something new. In the 60’s & 70’s there was a surge of expats to the area, draft dodgers, hippies and the like, mixed in with gruff local loggers and salty fisherman, descendants of the original settler families. So it’s a mixed bag to say the least.

I’ve always romanticized the other end of the highway being like some sort of parallel universe.

So when we were brainstorming trips, and South America was on the radar, Chile lined up for us. Great safety records for traveling. Reasonable flights. Thor had been interested in Uruguay, mostly for the grilled meat scene via an Anthony Bourdain episode, and one day that may still happen. Chile had an amazing parilla scene of their own though. Regardless. We booked Chile on a whim. When I say booked, all we booked were flights. We were winging it.

March 17th – Santiago to Pichilemu

Santiago felt very accessible, western. We had no idea where we were going. Other than south. We rented a car from the airport, headed into town, located a bookstore for a map, and patched together where we were heading first, the coast. Before completely leaving the city we stopped at a shopping centre to collect a few necessities and cruise the food court. I can’t remember exactly what we had, but the ambience was authentic bustle and 10 cent washrooms. 

Pichilemu sounded like a pokemon character. We arrived after dark, a lovely bnb via the lonely planet guide, on the ocean, albeit March is apparently their version of Fog-ust. We knocked at the very large gate and a fellow ushered us in, gave us some room keys and headed off into the night. 

March 18th – Constitution 

We were surprised by a lovely breakfast spread delivered to the door. Tea, cold cuts, and the most memorable; pan amasado. Bread meets biscuit. Delightfully dense, soft, yet flaky. It was a reoccurring throughout the trip. And I didn’t mind. We continued south along Route del Mar, following Thors google maps – sending us on a wild goose chase, along dirt roads, through strange abandoned feeling towns, like summer break had ended and everyone had left back to the cities. Stopping in Punta de Lobos, abandoned. Laguna Torca to stretch our legs, feeling abandoned.

We eventually got to Constitution, a large city with north of 40,000 residents. As we entered the valley, overlooking the city, it felt like we were in a different world. Not a bustling metropolis by any means, but after feeling lost all day it was nice to be back to civilization. We did a loop through town and headed to the coast. We stumbled across Playa Cable. A charming family run joint, in the midst of a rebuild after the devastating 2010 earthquake & tsunami. We were the only patrons, but were warmly welcomed, enjoyed dinner at the main house while the nuclear family ate at another table.

I should also mention the travel charades. I told Thor I’d learn Spanish before our trip. I lied. Then proceeded to step back and forfeit any attempts of communicating while on said trip. Thor resorted to travel charades as neither of us even knew the basics, he basically made sleeping motions while the people would show him a price on a calculator. It was extremely entertaining to say the least.

March 19th – Coastal

We were booked in for two nights. We explored the town, followed a back road through dry fields, found a small cafe, the woman invited us to the back where there were cauldrons of soups and stews and chickens meandering around. Enjoyed a lovely lunch spread and wandered around aimlessly.  Someones horses were walking themselves though the town square. Stumbled upon black sand beaches, played with random friendly dogs on said beaches. Everyone was effortlessly friendly, kind and very tolerant of our complete lack of language skills.  

March 20th – Chasing Waterfalls 

We departed early, the morning was beautiful and clear, the air was fresh from the sea. We stopped by the morning market on our way out and picked up some beautiful strawberries, pepino melon, water melon and a knife to eventually slice it up. The geography was changing rapidly as we made our way inland through wineries and tobacco fields on a mission to find “Siete Tazas” 7 waterfalls. Around lunch we stopped for our first (and last) completo, a chilean speciality, grande hotdog, loaded with mayonnaise. We eventually make it to the falls, which, as it was dry season, were quite underwhelming. We continue along to find some accommodation that wasn’t really open, but they let us stay anyways. We were technically in the boonies, but we managed to find a shop selling “churacos” the chilean bun made into a sandwich, just as the sun was setting, with no one else around except a trio of chilean cowboys that departed as we arrived. 

March 21st – Into the Mountains

I’ve never been to Whistler, or Colorado, but that’s how I’d describe Pucon. We stayed in a lovely German B&B, Hotel Gudenschwager, with picturesque views of the lake as well as the semi active volcano. We arrived in the afternoon and sorted out a parilla feast for dinner, a mountain of steaks and fire grilled meats, sausages and chops. 

March 22nd – The Lowlight

We hit the road after filling up on a beautiful breakfast spread. Today was the day to finally drive the stretch south to Puerto Montt, the end of the road. Puerto Montt is a port city in Chile’s Lake District, and is known as the gateway to the Andes mountains and the Patagonian fjords. A jumping off point for adventure tourism. We didn’t really know what to expect, but we were both a bit underwhelmed. We briefly walked though a market, which felt intimidating and strange. There was a lot of hustle & bustle, working folk, but  I couldn’t quite put my finger on what was missing. We didn’t linger long, we hopped back in the car and heading a bit further south to Alerce Andino National Park and went for a short walk, stretch a bit and clear our minds. We weren’t expecting a tourist hub, but it felt like a very industrial port.

After our brief jaunt south to the park we head north and inland towards the volcano, stopping eventually due to our rumbling stomachs and a roadside sign for empanadas. We park on the shoulder of the rather quiet highway and walk down a flight of stairs to ring the bell to what turns out was a backdoor of a home, the mother of the family (who very strongly reminded me of my sweet Italian auntie) invites us in while the husband makes up the empanadas, we sit in the living area with a handful of very sweet family members, all intrigued by our interest in their country. Their home was modest and comfortable, with beautiful views overlooking the Lake Llanquihue , at almost water level. We communicate to the best of our abilities, telling them about our adventures and our lack of plans. They suggest we stop to see Saltos River and Petrohue Falls just ahead, which we do, and I score a beautiful hand knit alpaca sweater (and one for sister) from a local woman selling at a stall on the walk in. We continue along, eventually driving all the way up volcano Osorno and spending the night in a chalet esque rental near the lake. 

March 23rd – Parilla

The next morning we head north again, but it’ll be a much shorter driving day. Valdivia

Dinner at Parilla del Thor

March 24th

Morning fish market

Drive back to Playa Cable

Beach fires, longanizas, ensalada Chinena

Supermarket

Dulce de leche

Dinners at the main house

Rebuilding after the tsunami & earthquake