Chile Day 1-2 - On the Advantages of Being Flexible

At first, I was worried that I hadn't done much planning for this vacation. What little planning I had done was already moot before I even left the airport. It has been raining here lately. A lot. Still is. Still will, for at least 2 or 3 days. As my first act here was going to be a raft down the Futalefu River, this didn't bother me much from afar. Who cares if it's raining when you're already navel-deep in glacial meltwater? Unfortunately, too much rain means too much water volume. The river is already on the high end of class V and the extra flow makes it too unsafe to raft commercially. On the bright side, I learned this by talking with a raft guide in the airport, so I didn't have to fly to Chaiten then bus to Futalefu for the same disappointing news. A bit of quick rescheduling later, and it now appears that I'm going to Argentina tomorrow. I'll be back here next week when the river chills out a bit. It's expensive to get there, but the hiking is supposed to be amazing and it does count as another country I can say I've visited.

Chile travel tip #1: When flying north-south, sit on the left side of the airplane. Once you clear Santiago's substantial pollution belt, the view of the Andes is incredible, and it lasts the entire trip. I'm actually amazed that this country has survived as a political unit. It's so narrow, long, and mountainous that I can't imagine administering it with horses, boats, and snail mail.

The language barrier is a bit high here. My spanish is pretty poor (but improving!) and almost nobody speaks English. Studying the phrasebook on the way in, I can now handle the following:: "What seems to be the problem, sir?" "I don't know how that got in my luggage." "Please don't detain me." "I wish to contact my consulate."

IMG_0011.JPG
Originally uploaded by wolftone.

Puerto Montt is described by Let's Go as the kind of place that you want to get out of as soon as you arrive. I agree based on what I've seen, though with the rain I'm not sure how many outdoor attractions I would want to visit if they existed.

Dinner tonight at the fish market. The core is a warren of men in rubber overalls gutting fish and shelling oysters, but the perimeter is a collection of tiny (2-3 table) restaurants serving apparently identical menus. If there is nobody in the restaurant, the staff is charged with standing outside and flirting with passersby. As far as I can tell, they don't even have names, only numberts. I chose the one with the nicest tablecloths and the least aggressive touts. In the end, I got some wonderful mussels, soup, and wine for less than a stick of Moose sausage would have cost in Norway. I think I'm starting to like this country.

I closed out the day at a concert in the old train station museum. The band's style seems to be somewhere between Jim Morrison and the ubiquitous peruvian pan flute bands stationed in Harvard Square. The drunk guy with the guitar outside makes some nice (if discordant) accompaniment.

That's it for now, I think. It's good to be here, even if things aren't going as I expected.