The Countdown

• **Sorry for the delay, we have a lot of updates coming soon! Stick with us!***

T-minus twelve days until the folks arrive in Pucon. This means we need to get out of town and go explore some surrounding areas, keeping Pucon fresh for their stay.

Day 1: “A lively university scene, a strong emphasis on the arts, plenty of history and surrounded by rivers and natural beauty – Valdivia just may be Chile’s most attractive and enjoyable city.” (Lonely Planet’s description in their 2004 South America: on a shoestring) There had to be an inside incentive for this kind of review. No way, no how does this city deserve its rave report. We tried looking for the riverfront highlights, the youthful vibe, the artsy-fartsies, but they weren’t there. It was a river town, an industrial blue-collar, college community that was trying to make the next step toward grand “turismo”, but was missing the beautiful plaza, restored historical housing and catholic cathedrals. Maybe that was the beauty. Maybe the lack of all that is what makes this place the hidden gem – its simplicity. Either way, it wasn’t what we were looking for and after a night in a crummy cabana connected to a house with screams lurking from the walls, we were back at the bus station by 7:00am the next day to navigate our way to Bariloche, Argentina.

The view from our cabana window.

Days 2-7: Even with our early to bed, early to rise philosophy to catch the only direct bus to Bariloche, we came up empty. It’s high season and the locals are traveling. We eventually made it to the renowned town of chocolate at the past-prime time of 10:00pm, giving us about zero chance of finding a hostel with room for two. After a good few hours up and down the streets lined with backpacker hang outs, and even after asking a few places if we could sleep on their lawn, we gave in to an overpriced and over-rated hosteria (a step up from hostel dorm-living, but not yet a hotel) found yet again in our dated and misleading guidebook. The next six days passed without a whole-lot-of excitement. We meandered through the streets, sampled sweets, inhaled ice cream and enjoyed our sleep. We were lazy and we liked it… just ask Duke.

Days 8-12: On our way from Chile to Bariloche, Argentina, we passed Villa La Angostura. We made a mental note at the time and returned there for the last five days of our countdown. We didn’t make the same mistake twice, so this time we had reservations at a beautifully owned and operated hostel tucked a couple blocks off the main drag, down a dirt road next to the chicken coupe and raspberry patch. We felt comfortable here. It was our speed. Crystal clear lakes, jutting mountain tops, rock beaches and tall timbers giving way to hiking trails and viewpoint overlooks were all accessible within a few kilometers. Marisa earned another badge of honor by braving a 12km hike through the majestic hills of the Parque Nacional Arrayanes' peninsula in her tattered Addidas flip-flops. I won’t go into the back-story of why she was wearing the sandals and not shoes, but I will add that we also survived the jaunt without any water. On top of that trek, we also spent a day on mountain bikes, ascending and descending the local hills (Marisa’s favorite past-time) in order to find a nearby lake and beach. The lakes in this region still hold the remnants of glacial water, giving off an assortment of bluish-green tones and clarity- a perfect place to spend an afternoon with a good book. But while Marisa was enjoying her time off the bike, I was itching for more. I decided that I was going to go back to the peninsula and bike the 12 km out and then 12 km back with the three hours of daylight left. It was a blast. I have never really taken a mountain bike on a trail before and now I understand why so many love the sport. Navigating through the trees, over roots, around rocks, down steep slopes and around humongous bulls eating their dinner just off the trail’s edge, what’s not to like? I did have a small accident with a thorn bush that I am still nursing, but overall, a great experience.

Somewhere in the mix of all this fun and excitement, we managed to wait to long to buy our return bus tickets to Chile. We needed to be on an AM bus on February 2nd to ensure that we would be awaiting my parents in Pucon when they arrived at 10:50pm later that night, but now found ourselves boarding a 1:15pm bus that was already 20 minutes late. Back over the Andes, through customs (for both countries) and into the hub town of Osorno, Chile, where we needed to hop on a north bound bus for Pucon. Again, we were too late. But Marisa was not taking NO for an answer and finally found someone to help us with an alternate route. Three more hours by bus, a negotiated 50 minute cab ride to Pucon and we had beaten them there – success! Bienvenidos Mom and Dad, you made it! And so had we. The countdown was complete.