So the adventures begin...

I can hardly believe that this is only day 3 here in Pucon -- I feel as though I have lived here for months already. The hostel we are staying in makes us feel so at home and the days are so long here that it is easy to forget.

Anyhow, I guess I will try to be chronoligal here, to keep things sane.

Thursday evening Molly and I caught the late afternoon minibus to Los Pozones, one of the many thermal baths in the area. Although we weren´t entirely sure there would be another bus to take us back that evening, we made our way down the slippery, muddy hill, taking in the smells of the steaming earth and the fresh rain, admiring the cascading greenery and panoramic view. There were about seven different baths, which consisted of natural rock pools anywhere from 12 feet t 30 feet across, steaming in the cool, after rain air, filled with people of all ages and walks of life. We undressed down to our swimsuits (which, of course, resulted in a few comments about gringas, no han vista al sol, mira que blanca es...) and got in. It was really amazing. It would have been worth the while even if we hadn´t gotten in the water, just to see the scenery. A roaring river ran alongside the pools, filling the air with its soothing music, and the rain sporadically dribbled down on us, cooling our faces while our submerged bodies soaked in the earth´s natural heat. After about an hour and a half we dashed into the cold air and tried to dry off as well as we could sharing one traveler´s towl that was about 10 by 24 inches. We made it, then climbed the muddy steps to the bus stop where a bus did in fact arrive shortly thereafter to carry us along the bumpy road to the place we´re calling home for these three days.



Friday we slept in, and it was glorious. The beds are equipped with layers upon layers of blankets, and the smell of wood and wet earth put me quickly to sleep and then gently soothed me awake in the morning. We explored the town a bit, visited the black volcanic sand beach, got lost for a while, then met outside the hostel to leave for the canopy tour. Molly and I and a girl named Laura, from Uruguay, who works at the hostel loaded up in the bus, picked up some Israili boys from another hostel, and headed out to the river. We have gotten to be friends with Laura -- she is patient with our slow spanish intake, and I love listening to her stories and explanations of things. Anyhow, we all jumped out of the van and suited up in our zipping gear, and hoped that we understood the important points of the directions they gave us all in Spanish. This was the best way to see the scenery I could have asked for -- a crew of really friendly guides zipped us from platform to platform through the lush greenery of the canopy, periodically over a gushing river or inbetween two very close trees. For about an hour we did this, zipping back and forth, swapping jokes and talking about where we were all from with the guides. It was a sweet experience. When we got to the end and we were chatting with everyone, they told us one of the guides was having a birthday party later that night, and we were invited. (This ended up being a failed endeavor, as we only knew the street name and nothing else. ) Later in the evening we braved the super market and then cooked some deliciously fattening potatoes for ourselves and our friend Laura with bacon and cheese -- except that cheddar cheese does not exist here. they only know of one kind of cheese here in chile, but luckily it is delicious.

Saturday we woke up at 3:45am, threw on several layers of highliter-yellow gear, and piled into a van with granola bars hanging out of our mouths to ride to the base of the Volcano Villarrica. The plan was to start climbing ridiculously early in order to watch the sunrise from the steaming crater of the still-active volcano. We started in the frigid early morning mist, and I can´t tell you if it was the stars above me or the altitude that took my breath away -- or maybe a combination of both. We could see millions of stars speckling the sky, unfamiliar constellations smiling down on us and urging me to keep on keepin on through the steep incine of loose gravel. I don´t know exactly what I expected, but apparently not that we would be walking up a slope the whole way. Within the first half hour Molly and I had fallen to the back of the group (along with the two other Americans on the trek) and before I knew it Molly was no more than a tiny twinkling light slowly making its way up the path below me, accompanied by the angelic light of Francisco, the patient guide who stayed with her as she threw up the granola bars from an hour earlier. As morning began to peep over the horizon, we neared a building that housed the end of a ski lift, where I waited with Molly and we continued up together with our faithful guide. Having left all of her energy in a puddle of vomit a few hundred feet below us, Molly was moving very slowly and it became apparent that we weren´t going to make it to the top. So, we went as far as we could in a stop-and-go fashion, then perched ourselves on some nice rocks for an hour or so, then slid down the ice on our butts like penguins as far as the ice went. My ego didn´t want me to write the truth, that we didn´t make it to the top, and we joked about stealing some of our friends´pictures from the crater so we could tell everyone we made it, but alas, my conscience got the better of me. So there it is, the story of the volcano that we only 1/3 of the way conquered. Fortunately, Francisco was muy muy guapo and willing to partake in choppy Spanish conversation with us, which made it much more enjoyable. Besides the fact that the views were absolutely incredible. As the clouds rolled in with the morning sun it began to look like we were at the beach, and that the clouds were the sea. It was absolutely phenomenal.
So, then we came back, took the best nap of our lives, got dressed up, and went out to take advantage of the free drink coupons that our hostel hands out to its guests at a bar called Mamas y Tapas. By the time we left, our table was decorated with two empty beer glasses, a coffee mug with the remains of Kahlua, a tall, empty white russian glass, and an empty pisco sour. We had quite a time, and made our way back to the hostel to eat a bit and chat with some Israli guys that are staying here. We had quite a night.

This morning we had to get up and pack up our things to check out by 10, and we will be leaving in about 30 minutes to Parque Nacional Huerquehue to camp for a few days. So, I won´t have any access to internet for a while, but keep the comments coming! i love hearing from you guys!!!!!!

love love,
catie