Fjord Escort
Trip Start
Oct 15, 2007
1
44
97
Trip End
Aug 24, 2008
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Puerto Natales,
Chile
Tuesday, January 15, 2008
We found a taxi and got the driver to take us to a hostel called Erratic Rock, which we had read about in our guide book. We hadn't booked ahead anywhere as we had been told that the Navimag can be delayed by quite a long time if the weather conditions are bad, as the open ocean portion of the voyage can be impassable if the waves are too high. Unfortunately, this meant that we found ourselves turning up at a hostel which had no vacancies for the night.
We wandered around a few of the other places that the hostel owner had mentioned but found them to either be full or unnecessarily unpleasant, so we went back to Erratic Rock to see if we could get better directions to one of the hostels that the owner had mentioned and we couldn't find.
The hostel turned out to be difficult to find as it had no signs up yet. It was a very new place, and the owner, Isabel, was lovely. She had taken a booking for her only double room, but she made a phone call to another hostel and arranged for the people who had booked with her to stay at her friend's hostel instead.
We felt quite bad about this, as we had experienced the rough end of 'confirmed' bookings turning out to be anything but on a number of occasions. However, it later turned out that the original bookers had never showed up, which Isabel had suspected would be the case.
We went out into town for a wander around and found ourselves a place to eat. We went to El Asador, which our guide book described as a 'meat fest'. All vestiges of our former vegetarianism are now behind us. When the meat is this good, and well sourced so acceptable to our morals (such as they are), vegetarianism is a terrible waste. We are now officially omnivorous again.
Jacob had some peppered lamb salami to start and then a steak, whilst Kirsty had pork. We had a lovely bottle of wine with it: a Montes Classic Series Cabernet Sauvignon 2006, since you ask. Feeling well fed, we headed back to the hostel, where Kirsty collapsed on the bed and went to sleep and Jacob sat in the kitchen chatting with Isabel and a couple of American guests, drinking the wine and eating the fruit and nuts that Isabel kept producing. The fruit included raisins as big as prunes, which were salted, which worked surprisingly well.
The following morning, after breakfast, we went into town and spent a while trying to find some Sellotape before heading to the post office to send a parcel back home. We went for lunch at a café called 'El Living', which turned out to be a vegetarian café. We had tea and coffee (one each, not mixed...) and food, then hurried off to Erratic Rock for their daily talk. This was something that the owner, Rustyn (yes, he really was called Rustyn, and he didn't show a shred of irony about it) had mentioned to us the previous day when we had asked about accommodation. He had told us that the talk would cover the various activities that can be undertaken in the park and surrounding area. Ideal, we thought, for planning our next few days.
Unfortunately, this informative talk was nothing of the kind. It was all about the two major walks in Torres del Paine: the 'W' and the longer 'circuit'. We learnt nothing of any use to us for this trip, having already decided that we are woefully underequipped for such a venture this time around. We made the decision before we left home that we would not carry all of our outdoorsy kit with us for the few occasions that it would be useful, so we did not have the necessary boots, heavy duty waterproofs, tent, etc. etc. that would be necessary for a 5 to 10 day hike through the beautiful but difficult terrained and incredibly variable weather conditioned Torres del Paine. We did decide that we would come back to walk these trails at another time though.
After the talk, we went to the office and spoke to Rustyn, explaining again, but slower and in words of fewer syllables than we had used the previous day, that we wanted to go into the park for day trips as we didn't intend walking the W or the circuit on this occasion. He and his colleague gave us some information about horse riding and kayaking, which we had decided we were interested in doing, but we began to get frustrated when they kept offering us horse rides in Puerto Natales, as the companies were closer than going in to the park. Yes, but we want to go and see some of the park, and we would like to do it on horseback... never mind, we'll go somewhere where the staff listen to us.
We checked out a few agents and decided that we would go sea kayaking on the fjords the following day, have a day of admin and recovery the day after, then go horse riding in Torres del Paine the day after that. We found a company who could take us kayaking on the nearby Fjord Eberhardt the following day and found another company who would be able to take us horse riding in the park...probably. A junior member of staff was working and wasn't sure what options were available, so told us to come back later when his boss would be there. We did this, but the boss wasn't there, although the member of staff had been able to get some more details, so we decided on a ride. Unfortunately, the poor member of staff then couldn't get hold of the horse riding company in the park on the radio (apparently they didn't have a phone) so we had to leave it and arranged to come back the following afternoon once we had come back from kayaking.
We went out for food at a place that Isabel had recommended to us, which was OK but not particularly spectacular. We had Lomo al lo Pobre (poor man's steak), which is a steak, fried egg, onions and chips. Filling, but could also be used to floss your teeth with.
The following morning, we were up early and breakfasted, then stood on the street corner outside the hostel waiting for the company to pick us up to go kayaking. Something unheard of in the history of south America then happened: the van arrived exactly on time. Picking ourselves up off the floor after getting over the shock, we jumped in the van and were taken off to the fjords.
There were five of us kayaking and two guides, Jim and Juan Pablo. We paddled up the fjord, which at times was pretty hard work due to the wind (despite Jim's earlier assertions that "It's never windy when I go paddling". Yeah, right) but the scenery was beautiful: clear waters, big mountains and circling condors, which due to their size, occasionally blotted out the sun.
At the top of the fjord, we landed the boats on a small beach and sat in the sun, eating the picnic of sandwiches, biscuits, chocolate, juice and tea or coffee that was provided for us. Full of food (Jim had overestimated the number of biscuits required to feed seven people: he possibly thought that he had to feed seventy) , we got back in our boats and paddled back towards the beach we had launched from. The going was considerably easier with the wind behind us, to the extent that we ended up drifting along propelled by the breeze for a while. There was a patch that was a bit rough, so we all rafted up, i.e. held onto each others kayaks so that the seven boats formed a nice stable raft structure, and bobbed our way across the rough patch into the calmer waters.
We arrived back on the beach we had left from, tired but exhilarated. It had been a fantastic day.
Juan Pablo, it turned out, also worked for the horse riding people, so we arranged to meet him there later on to organise our trip into the park. We headed back to the hostel for a while, then went back to the horse riding place. Juan Pablo wasn't there, but we were able to book the ride that we had decided on the previous day.
We decided to go back to El Living for food that evening, where we had some nice food, some slightly less interesting cake and a pleasantly relaxed evening sitting on their couches, reading their magazines.
The following day had been decreed a day of admin. Unfortunately, we had forgotten that it would be Sunday, so weren't able to arrange transport to either Punta Arenas or Santiago as we had intended, due to the various travel offices being closed. However, we spent several hours doing internet stuff and getting our Travel Pod a bit more up to date (entries this good take time, you know...), stopping only for a terrible sandwich containing some odd lumps of cellulose.
Once we could no longer see straight, we decided to call it a day and went for food. We found a restaurant which looked nice, despite its large, slightly creepy bonfire-night guy standing by the sandwich board in the street. This theme continued inside, and we were given the table next to the weird stuffed effigy of a bespectacled, moustached, Clive Dunn type man, which was located just behind Kirsty, but sufficiently in her eyeline for her to keep looking over her shoulder to see who was standing behind her. Odd.
We headed back to the hostel and prepared our things for a trip into the park the following day, played cards for a while, and then to bed...
It was a very early start the following morning. We were up and breakfasted, then waited on the corner at around 6.30am for the bus. It came along pretty much on time (what's going on with this place?) and after a few loops around Puerto Natales picking up various passengers, we were taken to the park. The journey itself was not to interesting, but as we arrived in the park, we could see some of the peaks through the clouds. Absolutely beautiful.
We arrived at the 'administration' area where we were due to be meeting the company to go riding relatively early, so we wandered over to the offices which the visitor centre had told us were for the horse riding company and spoke to a guy there, who was determined not to understand a word of what we said, regardless of the quality of our Spanish. We eventually managed to make ourselves understood and were told that we needed to meet in the office at 2pm.
We wandered a little, found a restaurant and had a bite to eat, which eventually arrived at about ten to two, despite us having ordered only a sandwich and a bowl of soup at around quarter past one. We managed to eat very fast and found the same man who had told us to be there at two. Except now, he was telling us to be somewhere else.
Having killed a lot of time, we were a little annoyed that we were now in the wrong place and were going to be late getting to the right place. We followed the directions given to us by another man from the place that apparently didn't deal with horse riding, and as we were hurrying in that direction, we were intercepted by two other men in a jeep, who were looking for us and took us to where we were supposed to be.
Panic over, we met our guide, who was a Spanish only speaking gaucho, when he spoke at all. The whole afternoon would be spent conversing in sign language and guess work.
We met our horses, who we were not properly introduced to, so we don't know their real names, but we christened them 'Munchy' and 'Awkward Bastard'. Jacob rode Munchy, who was a large, white beast and Kirsty got Awkward Bastard, who was smaller, darker and considerably less interested in moving.
Riding in South America is somewhat different to riding in the UK, so Kirsty's previous experience with riding was probably more of a disadvantage. Nothing she did could persuade Awkward Bastard to move at anything faster than a slow plod. Meanwhile, Gaucho and Jacob had trotted off: Jacob's horse was happy enough to follow Gaucho's horse, but would lunge for any passing foliage he could conceivably get his teeth around whilst trotting past.
Kirsty caught up with the others, but the same thing happened again as we started to ride up a large hill. Nearing the top of the hill, Gaucho pulled up his horse and tore off a lump of a shrub, stripped the majority of the leaves off (Munchy's eyes lit up) and presented the stick to Kirsty, for whacking Awkward Bastard with if he continued to ignore her.
We continued up the hill, with Kirsty keeping up far better now that she had a stick to threaten Awkward Bastard with. She didn't really have to use it: once was enough and then Awkward Bastard decided that all in all, it would be easier to keep up with the others.
We came to the summit of the hill and had a fantastic view looking over the lakes, some of which were glacial, which meant that there were some lovely different blues. We took a few photos and then started to ride down the other side of the hill.
We stopped for a while to let the horses rest and have a graze (Munchy had, of course, already eaten, but didn't let that put him off attempting another course) then rode round back towards where we had started.
As we arrived back at Gaucho's ranch, we encountered one of his horses running around loose. He tried to round him up, showing suddenly what a talented horseman he was, but the loose horse still managed to evade him and raced straight towards the two of us. Jacob was OK, as Munchy had taken the opportunity once again to have a quick nibble and Jacob, pragmatically, had decided that it was wise to let him eat as he was unlikely to cause any problems that way, and just kept a hand to the reins in order to get out of the way if necessary.
Awkward Bastard of course, was slightly more awkward about things and decided to have a bit of a shouting match with escapee horse. Both whinnied at each other a bit, but Gaucho soon had escapee horse back under control and we returned to the ranch without any further excitement.
Whilst waiting for the bus back to Puerto Natales, we wandered around the visitor centre and sat and looked at the view across the lake for a while, then decided to go back to the café place for hot chocolate. We then got the bus back to Puerto Natales, which stopped en route at a little service place, so we were able to get some empanadas for tea.
We got back in to Puerto Natales quite late and had showers and played some more card games before heading to bed.
The following morning, we headed into town and, after a brief trip to a pharmacy for throat lozenges for Kirsty's sore throat, we attempted to organise what we were going to do with the rest of our time in Chile. We had decided that if we had time, we would like to go to Punta Arenas before heading up to Santiago in time for our next flight.
We then spent a frustrating day going backwards and forwards trying to decide what the best option would be.
It turned out to be relatively expensive to take a flight from either Puerto Natales or Punta Arenas to Santiago, so we decided to write off going to Punta Arenas and organise getting to Santiago by bus. We went to the bus office and found that the price for a bus to Santiago wasn't much better than a flight. Given that a three hour flight for a little bit more cash was going to be incalculably more comfortable for both of us than a two day bus journey, we decided to go back to the flight people and get a flight to Santiago.
The flight from Puerto Natales to Santiago was in less than an hour. We couldn't get to the hostel to collect our bags and get to the airport in time.
Damn.
The next flight wouldn't be for several days.
This would all be a lot easier to take if we hadn't had to queue for upwards of thirty minutes each time to get the information.
We went back to the bus station, having decided that a two day bus that got us to Santiago before the next flight would even have taken off was probably the best remaining option.
No.
"Yes, when you spoke to us before, we told you the price of the bus. You didn't ask if it was full, so we didn't think to tell you. There are no more buses until.... the 22nd. Yes. That's right, we have no more buses to the capital city for a week."
Crap.
Back to the flight office, another thirty minute wait.
The flight woman then made a bad situation worse: "No, the flight to Santiago in a few days is now fully booked."
Things were starting to look bad.
Fortunately, it turned out that there would be flights from Punta Arenas to Santiago. We could either get a bus to Punta Arenas and fly from there later the same day, or get a flight from there in three days time, which would not only give us a chance to see Punta Arenas, it also cost less than any of the prices we had originally been quoted and barely more than the bus would have been.
Fairly obviously, we booked the cheaper flight and sighed a sigh of relief that we were going to be able to get back up to Santiago.
Then, gritting our teeth, we went back to the bus people to try and organise a bus to Punta Arenas.
"Sorry, full."
AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAARRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRGGGGGGGGGGGGGHHHHHH! !!!!!
However, there are lots of bus companies running between Puerto Natales and Punta Arenas. The bus people were, this time, remarkably helpful, not only recommending a couple of other bus companies, but phoning around for us to find one with spaces that day.
We walked to the relevant office and managed to secure ourselves bus tickets to Punta Arenas.
Sounds so simple. It had taken most of the day.
We now had a couple of hours to kill before going to Punta Arenas and only one more task: to find ourselves some accommodation.
We went to an internet place and looked on the various hostel booking websites to try and find somewhere to stay for a few nights in Punta Arenas. We found several that looked reasonable. However, it seems that one thing that all accommodation booking sites have in common is that they will not let you book accommodation for the same day.
It is, of course, utterly unthinkable that anyone would need to organise a place to stay for the night on the same day.
It seemed more and more likely that at some point, we had done something which had seriously pissed off some God type deity and now, our comeuppance was well and truly being had.
We decided to go and speak to Isabel, who seems to know everyone, and see if she knew of a place we could stay in Punta Arenas.
She didn't.
Something made Kirsty think that there was an Erratic Rock branch in Punta Arenas, so we checked out 'Black Sheep', the Puerto Natales tourist newspaper, which gave details of their Punta Arenas branch. We popped over the road to speak to Rustyn and (miraculously, given both the God awful day we were having and Erratic Rock's previously demonstrated lack of ability to listen to what you actually need), he was able to book us in.
Thank Christ for that.
Having spent the whole day organising transport and accommodation, we were by now, starving. We found a little restaurant just off the main street, which turned out to be incredibly good. We had some soup and then Kirsty had a seafood ravioli and Jacob had corn cake. Corn cake is a speciality of Chile and is made of mashed sweet corn which is then baked into a cake. This version had stir fried vegetables which were topped with the corn and baked. Extremely tasty.
We collected our bags from the hostel and then headed to the bus station to catch our bus to Punta Arenas. Kirsty, still feeling unwell and utterly exhausted by the day, promptly fell asleep.
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*Gasp*
Oh my goodness...something was on time in South America! ... *Dialling CNN* Louise Brown TravelPod Community Manager