The next day, we took a bus over to Chiloé, a small island about a 30 minute boat ride out. We first had to take a bus to a small town outside of Puerto Montt called Paraguas (umbrella),a name serving more as a reminder given the extreme weather conditions, before taking the ferry over and getting back on the bus to one of the main towns on the island called Ancud.
The island is the fifth largest in South America and the second largest in Chile, beaten only by the Isla Grande de Tierra del Fuego. The island is a major tourist attraction because of a distinct species of penguin which inhabits a small island not far from the coast, the Humboldt Penguin, a species which is now endangered and in fact, well protected by the Chileans. This is a species which I have now seen on 3 separate occasions in 2 different countries.
Fortunately, the bus ride was friendly and short. 2 hours seemed a breeze after the agonisingly long journey to Puerto Montt.
On arriving, the rain was even worse and the whole town of Ancud was flooded. To make matters worse (in popular opinion) or better (in my opinion), Ancud had to be one of the most hilly towns I have ever visited, sort of like a less saturated La Paz at a lower altitude. It was almost impossible to cross the road without going to at least shin deep in water. Traversing the town was more like a swimming exercise than a casual walk.
To most of you, this will sound like a wasted trip. The phrase, “that was a bad time to go on holiday” will probably come to your heads. However, this remains one of the best memories of the trip for me. It was absolutely insane. My hostel was directly opposite the bus station. On any normal day, this would be a 2 second walk, but on this particular day, because I hadn’t brough my bathers and I had a rucksack full of my belongings, I had to follow the hill down towards the beach (roughly 2 minutes), climb over a wall where the water stream could not reach, climb back over the wall on the other side of the street and walk back up the hill. 2 seconds became 4 incredible minutes in which I felt utterly astounded by what I was experiencing.
What made it incredible was to think that people actually live there. You would imagine the town to be ghost-like, but given that the rain is just as heavy throughout most of the year (perhaps excluding the summer months), society cannot just shut down. The people were forced to adjust to the terrible conditions. The streets were just as busy as they would be in any other small town, people would have no hesitation in sinking into the mucky abyss of the downhill water challenge, and business was normal. These people are an inspiration. They deal with adversity on a nearly consistent daily basis, and while not ideal, they cope with it and do not let it stop them from living.
My only regret on arriving was not buying and bringing a surfboard or something of the like. The rush of sliding from the top of one of the hills all the way to the bottom would be exhilarating, and it would probably make for a great YouTube video.
From Penguins to...Basketball?
Before you get your hopes up and scream with enjoyment that I achieved my dream of seeing the penguins on this day, I will say straight out that the one thing out of these people’s control is the sea. Adverse weather means unpredictable sea conditions and the tour operators refused to take me out to see them. They said, “Come back again tomorrow”, a phrase I am very accustomed too now and realise that it is a phrase of false hope, used by those who do not have the capacity to crush a young adult's dream.
Whilst it was a shame, I did see the penguins 3 months later, and I may not have had such a great cultural experience that day had it not been for the weather.
While moving into the hostel, I met a girl, Olivia, a 20-something year-old who had been working on a farm in Chiloé as part of her Masters in California. While stationed on another part of the island, she was in Ancud on vacation. Whilst there, she ran into 2 other Americans from California who had been brought over to Chiloé to play for the Ancud basketball team.
Apparently, basketball is a huge thing for the people of Ancud. While the US basketball is well-viewed throughout the rest of Chile, in Ancud there was a great passion for the local teams. Olivia managed to get tickets for me, my travel buddy and herself. It turned out that the game was to be played in the local school gym. While a bit of a low-key location, the gym was absolutely rammed full with passionate fans. The attendance must have been at least 500 people, quite a lot in proportion to the actual population of the town of Ancud (~36,000 people).
The people were out in full force. Fans carried huge flags which required 5 people to fully spread out. Others wore face paint and colorful wigs. Parents dressed up their kids and the atmosphere was incredible, with just about as much atmosphere as you would expect from an English football game. Qué aweanada! Weón! Qué haces! Andate a la chucha po! screamed the crowd to encourage their team or slate the other.
The island is the fifth largest in South America and the second largest in Chile, beaten only by the Isla Grande de Tierra del Fuego. The island is a major tourist attraction because of a distinct species of penguin which inhabits a small island not far from the coast, the Humboldt Penguin, a species which is now endangered and in fact, well protected by the Chileans. This is a species which I have now seen on 3 separate occasions in 2 different countries.
Fortunately, the bus ride was friendly and short. 2 hours seemed a breeze after the agonisingly long journey to Puerto Montt.
On arriving, the rain was even worse and the whole town of Ancud was flooded. To make matters worse (in popular opinion) or better (in my opinion), Ancud had to be one of the most hilly towns I have ever visited, sort of like a less saturated La Paz at a lower altitude. It was almost impossible to cross the road without going to at least shin deep in water. Traversing the town was more like a swimming exercise than a casual walk.
To most of you, this will sound like a wasted trip. The phrase, “that was a bad time to go on holiday” will probably come to your heads. However, this remains one of the best memories of the trip for me. It was absolutely insane. My hostel was directly opposite the bus station. On any normal day, this would be a 2 second walk, but on this particular day, because I hadn’t brough my bathers and I had a rucksack full of my belongings, I had to follow the hill down towards the beach (roughly 2 minutes), climb over a wall where the water stream could not reach, climb back over the wall on the other side of the street and walk back up the hill. 2 seconds became 4 incredible minutes in which I felt utterly astounded by what I was experiencing.
What made it incredible was to think that people actually live there. You would imagine the town to be ghost-like, but given that the rain is just as heavy throughout most of the year (perhaps excluding the summer months), society cannot just shut down. The people were forced to adjust to the terrible conditions. The streets were just as busy as they would be in any other small town, people would have no hesitation in sinking into the mucky abyss of the downhill water challenge, and business was normal. These people are an inspiration. They deal with adversity on a nearly consistent daily basis, and while not ideal, they cope with it and do not let it stop them from living.
My only regret on arriving was not buying and bringing a surfboard or something of the like. The rush of sliding from the top of one of the hills all the way to the bottom would be exhilarating, and it would probably make for a great YouTube video.
From Penguins to...Basketball?
Before you get your hopes up and scream with enjoyment that I achieved my dream of seeing the penguins on this day, I will say straight out that the one thing out of these people’s control is the sea. Adverse weather means unpredictable sea conditions and the tour operators refused to take me out to see them. They said, “Come back again tomorrow”, a phrase I am very accustomed too now and realise that it is a phrase of false hope, used by those who do not have the capacity to crush a young adult's dream.
Whilst it was a shame, I did see the penguins 3 months later, and I may not have had such a great cultural experience that day had it not been for the weather.
While moving into the hostel, I met a girl, Olivia, a 20-something year-old who had been working on a farm in Chiloé as part of her Masters in California. While stationed on another part of the island, she was in Ancud on vacation. Whilst there, she ran into 2 other Americans from California who had been brought over to Chiloé to play for the Ancud basketball team.
Apparently, basketball is a huge thing for the people of Ancud. While the US basketball is well-viewed throughout the rest of Chile, in Ancud there was a great passion for the local teams. Olivia managed to get tickets for me, my travel buddy and herself. It turned out that the game was to be played in the local school gym. While a bit of a low-key location, the gym was absolutely rammed full with passionate fans. The attendance must have been at least 500 people, quite a lot in proportion to the actual population of the town of Ancud (~36,000 people).
The people were out in full force. Fans carried huge flags which required 5 people to fully spread out. Others wore face paint and colorful wigs. Parents dressed up their kids and the atmosphere was incredible, with just about as much atmosphere as you would expect from an English football game. Qué aweanada! Weón! Qué haces! Andate a la chucha po! screamed the crowd to encourage their team or slate the other.
I have never seen a basketball game in my life, and I did not understand the rules but quickly learnt as the game went on. I quickly found myself joining in the atmosphere and cheering on what is now my favorite, and therefore best basketball team in the world, Ancud. What made the evening even better was that Ancud won by a 20-point landslide!
It turns out that Ancud is currently the 3rd best team in Chile, as that the team attracts players from countries other than America. As guard, the team currently plays a new venezuelan import. Whereas it can be said that Chile may have certain frosty relations with the US due to a rough collective memory, in fact, it was great to see the solidarity here. Everyone was happy to see foreign talent shine. It showed me a true cultural difference between Ancud and several parts of mainland Chile. The bigger, historical issues did not seem to matter and the Chiloéans loved the American players. Grudges did not seem commonplace, something quite refreshing to see.
Floody Hell!
Disclaimer: If the preceding pun offends you, I apologise.
Later that very same day, on returning to the hostel around 9, I realised we actually had nothing to eat...at all.
I’m not sure whether it was for sheer lunacy or because I really wanted to man up and immerse myself in the Ancudian culture, but despite the continuing torrential rain, I went on what should have been a 20 minute walk to the nearest supermarket, on the hunt for some great empanadas.
The people of Ancud, as I mentioned, do not welcome the rain, but do not see it as a problem. If they tackle it every day, I thought at least that I could manage it for one night.
I did not know the way very well, but having had a 2 second glance at Google Maps before the wifi cut out, I somehow felt confident enough to go out and find the market. Fortunately, my Spanish is more than good enough to ask for directions.
1 minute after leaving the warm comfort of the hostel, I found myself regretting not having worn my waterproofs. My jeans were soaked up to the knees as I attempted to cross the first road. Thinking back to how successful my walk down to the beach had been earlier, although slightly more time consuming, I decided that it could be the most viable option to get to the market.
I asked 2 people who were passing me for general directions towards the market. They advised me to cut through the streets as normal and after a few turns here and there, there would be one straight road leading towards the market. I then proceed to ask them how to get to the beach from the market, and to my pleasure, it turned out I would only have to cross one road to get there.
As I watched on in astonishment as the two people walked without hesitation through water so deep you could drown, I realised that if I wanted to avoid hypothermia and generally making an ass out of myself, the best option would be to go to the beach.
The beach was pleasant and I managed to go across it with no problems, climbing back over the wall when I could see the market in the distance. To cross the one road without getting wet would be easy as it seemed possible to jump across. It could have been so perfect, I could have reached the supermarket and gotten back without so much as a scratch. As you can maybe guess by my use of the conditional tense...something went wrong.
Climbing over the wall of the beach, I immediately lost my footing and fell hands and knees first into the oncoming rushing stream of water soaking not only both my legs, but a large part of my jacket and my glasses which had until that point been protected by a fortunate direction of the wind.
I was defeated, embarrassed and ashamed. Two boys in the distance looked on probably chuckling and murmuring Gringo weón under their breath.
I could barely see, I was soaking from head to toe but, motivated by the prospect of a glorious Pollo, Queso y Crema (Chicken, Cream and Cheese) empanada, I soldiered on. By the time I reached the supermarket, I was still soaking. The cleaners that night may not have been happy with me bringing in mucky water around the store, but the staff all wanting to go home because of the late time I arrived, seemed indifferent and had no problems with me entering.
The exact path I took around the store was pretty clear based on the trails of mucky crap dragging behind me. One straight line to secure the empanadas; then to the chocolate aisle; then doubling-back to the empanada stand realising I felt greedy and actually wanted more; then back to the chocolate aisle for a Hershey’s; then for the drinks; and then out. In a sense, I have literally left my mark on Chiloé then.
I got back with no problems, except from the occasional Harry Potter shout-out to which I am accustomed and was able to chow down on that well deserved empanada.
The story I think is one which demonstrates how great a day can become, even when all your original plans get washed away (as it seems everything does in Ancud). From Penguins, to Basketball, to a genuine uphill battle for an empanada, the adverse weather was the reason behind it all.
While I am not a fan of the rain, this was a sight to behold. Maybe my opinion would change if I was living under those conditions all the time, but the ridiculous rain was incredible experience which has found itself a permanent place in my fondest memories.
It turns out that Ancud is currently the 3rd best team in Chile, as that the team attracts players from countries other than America. As guard, the team currently plays a new venezuelan import. Whereas it can be said that Chile may have certain frosty relations with the US due to a rough collective memory, in fact, it was great to see the solidarity here. Everyone was happy to see foreign talent shine. It showed me a true cultural difference between Ancud and several parts of mainland Chile. The bigger, historical issues did not seem to matter and the Chiloéans loved the American players. Grudges did not seem commonplace, something quite refreshing to see.
Floody Hell!
Disclaimer: If the preceding pun offends you, I apologise.
Later that very same day, on returning to the hostel around 9, I realised we actually had nothing to eat...at all.
I’m not sure whether it was for sheer lunacy or because I really wanted to man up and immerse myself in the Ancudian culture, but despite the continuing torrential rain, I went on what should have been a 20 minute walk to the nearest supermarket, on the hunt for some great empanadas.
The people of Ancud, as I mentioned, do not welcome the rain, but do not see it as a problem. If they tackle it every day, I thought at least that I could manage it for one night.
I did not know the way very well, but having had a 2 second glance at Google Maps before the wifi cut out, I somehow felt confident enough to go out and find the market. Fortunately, my Spanish is more than good enough to ask for directions.
1 minute after leaving the warm comfort of the hostel, I found myself regretting not having worn my waterproofs. My jeans were soaked up to the knees as I attempted to cross the first road. Thinking back to how successful my walk down to the beach had been earlier, although slightly more time consuming, I decided that it could be the most viable option to get to the market.
I asked 2 people who were passing me for general directions towards the market. They advised me to cut through the streets as normal and after a few turns here and there, there would be one straight road leading towards the market. I then proceed to ask them how to get to the beach from the market, and to my pleasure, it turned out I would only have to cross one road to get there.
As I watched on in astonishment as the two people walked without hesitation through water so deep you could drown, I realised that if I wanted to avoid hypothermia and generally making an ass out of myself, the best option would be to go to the beach.
The beach was pleasant and I managed to go across it with no problems, climbing back over the wall when I could see the market in the distance. To cross the one road without getting wet would be easy as it seemed possible to jump across. It could have been so perfect, I could have reached the supermarket and gotten back without so much as a scratch. As you can maybe guess by my use of the conditional tense...something went wrong.
Climbing over the wall of the beach, I immediately lost my footing and fell hands and knees first into the oncoming rushing stream of water soaking not only both my legs, but a large part of my jacket and my glasses which had until that point been protected by a fortunate direction of the wind.
I was defeated, embarrassed and ashamed. Two boys in the distance looked on probably chuckling and murmuring Gringo weón under their breath.
I could barely see, I was soaking from head to toe but, motivated by the prospect of a glorious Pollo, Queso y Crema (Chicken, Cream and Cheese) empanada, I soldiered on. By the time I reached the supermarket, I was still soaking. The cleaners that night may not have been happy with me bringing in mucky water around the store, but the staff all wanting to go home because of the late time I arrived, seemed indifferent and had no problems with me entering.
The exact path I took around the store was pretty clear based on the trails of mucky crap dragging behind me. One straight line to secure the empanadas; then to the chocolate aisle; then doubling-back to the empanada stand realising I felt greedy and actually wanted more; then back to the chocolate aisle for a Hershey’s; then for the drinks; and then out. In a sense, I have literally left my mark on Chiloé then.
I got back with no problems, except from the occasional Harry Potter shout-out to which I am accustomed and was able to chow down on that well deserved empanada.
The story I think is one which demonstrates how great a day can become, even when all your original plans get washed away (as it seems everything does in Ancud). From Penguins, to Basketball, to a genuine uphill battle for an empanada, the adverse weather was the reason behind it all.
While I am not a fan of the rain, this was a sight to behold. Maybe my opinion would change if I was living under those conditions all the time, but the ridiculous rain was incredible experience which has found itself a permanent place in my fondest memories.