March 15 Day 3 of W hike - The rumbling of the Frances Glacier - see my profile for pics from this day.

March 15 Day 28 Day 3 of "W" hike
 We had a much better sleep and woke up to a blazing sunrise over a sea of tents.  Our food was safe in the dining hall, but one hiker we spoke to said that he was up when they unlocked it and saw a fox run out after spending the night in there.  We had a decent breakfast, packed u pour tent and got on our way.
 The first leg of the hike was listed as 2 1/2 hours so we budgeted an hour more.  It was overcast and a bit windy so a few more layers were required after spending most of he first two days hiking in a t-shirt.  The trail was the easiest of our journey, with gradual ups and downs through bushy terrain by small lakes, with the ever present mountains looming above us.
 We got to Camp Italiano is good time.  This was the most rustic of the camps on the W, which had reported closed a few days ago because of "poo problems".  The septic aroma was present throughout the area making us sympathize with those camping there.  Outside of the ranger's office was a huge pile of backpacks shed by hikers planning to return to the camp after heading up the side trail towards Camp Brittanica.
 The trail to Brittanica made up the centre line of the W but was very difficult and long.  We decided to head up as far as our bodies would let us and were glad of it.  After about 30 minutes you emerged from the forest and spent the rest of your time scrabbling over rocky trails beside a churning blue-grey river.  The view was stunning, as you had an unobstructed view of Glacier Frances up the mountain.  We heard was sounded like prolonged thunder which turned out to be glacial avalanches.  From this point on we'd hear the rumbling about every hour until we got out of range.
 On the way we met our Brazilian friends who had been hiking from the other direction and had a grand reunion.  A little later we met our Connecticut friends who pointed out a visible avalanche during one of the rumblings.  We were heading to Frances Lookout, which looked to be close on the map and when we started people heading down told us it was just over 30 minutes.  After hiking for 45 minutes others coming down speculated it was another hour, so we turned around once we found a nice viewing spot and had a snack.
 Chile needs cartographers!  As we said, Frances lookout looked close on a map, but wasn't.  The wooden trail markers had random information, such as on our first hike it told us we had travelled 4km in less than an hour.  Then, 90 minutes later, it told us we had travelled 4.5 km.  We learned not to trust maps, signs and markers which is frustrating, as it's comforting to know how far you've gone and how much you have left to go.

 We headed back to Italiano, picked up our bags and headed down to Camp Frances, pausing whenever we heard the rumble of the glacier.  This was the most basic place we stayed at, with assigned platforms for the tents, two picnic tables in a shelter for dinner, an open washing area but a new, state of the art washroom/shower facility.
 It had been sprinkling all day and after we set up the light rain became steady so we crowded into the tiny dining area and managed to get a spot in between a quiet but interesting Swedish guy on his first major hike and a loud, young group of Koreans.  After dinner we retired to our tent and heard the rain stop, only to return with a vengeance at 5 am.

Another amazing sunrise picture at Paine Grande.

Meg in the scrubby forest.

Frances glacier from the base of the trail.

March 14 day 2 of W hike - icebergs and exhaustion

March 14 Day 27 Day 2 of "W" hike
 You'd think that this would have been the easiest of days, since we were just retracing our previous day's hike to form the first line of our "W".  Problem one was that neither of us slept particularly well and so got a fairly late start.  We still had lots of company for breakfast but many ambitious types were long gone.  The outside of our tent was crusted with thin ice and Meg had trouble staying warm through the cold night.
 After breakfast we decided we weren't going to do the long hike to a hanging bridge to check out the view as we weren't up for adding hours and hours to our hike.  Instead, we took a closer trail which led us down to the side of a lake close to the glacier.  We had a great view, could almost touch the little icebergs and had almost perfectly still water.  It was one of the most magical places on our hike.
 Back at camp, we struck our tent, packed our bags, made our lunch and used the facilities before going.  I returned to our table first and was taking pictures of a bird in the tree when some French guys came over and told us that this bird had taken our bread.  We knew that the loaf of bread was in our backpacks but then remembered our sandwiches, which  were no longer on the table.  Fortunately, the guys had seen the bird take them and drop them under a tree.  Our lunch was recovered, intact.  Even scavenger birds aren't fans of pbj sandwiches in ziplock bags.
 Overall, the food we brought was probably insufficient.  Most breakfasts were: a piece of bread, a piece of cheese, a hard-boiled egg and instant coffee.  Lunch was our sandwich.  Dinner was a boil in the bag main with some chocolate bar or cookies and a tea.  Trail mix was the snack on the go for the whole trip.  By the third day our belts were no longer keeping our pants up, probably an effective short-term diet plan.  Try it and let us know how it works for you.
 It was a bad day for me,  The cold had left me with no appetite and meals were  choked down with little pleasure.  On top of that, the backpack felt heavy from the moment I put it on, knowing it would be a solid 5 hours before I could drop it for the day.  My strategy was to take it off during hourly breaks, which felt good but made it really hard to get it back on.  At least the weather was on our side, as it was warm and sunny, causing us to break early to take off any warm layers of clothing.
 For our journey, you could just take yesterdays description and play it backward.  The tough bit going down was relatively easy going up and we had to turn around to get the best views.  The number of people was still large, most of them going much faster than us.
 Today it took 5 1/4 hours to do the 11 km the map said would take 3 1/2 hours.  We stumbled into the palacial Paine Grande camp with little left in our tanks and set up our tent close to the washrooms.  The sun heated and dried our habitat nicely while we waited for the showers to open at 6 pm.   I saw a fox not too afraid of all the people and wandering close to the dining hall, not a good sign on the food protection front.
 I got in the first shift at the shower and after a wait for the water to get turned on, the hot water did the trick.  I was lucky, as Meg tried an hour later and had to settle for cold water.
  Again exhausted, I headed to bed right after dinner.  it got quickly dark after 8 and cloud cover meant that there was no star show tonight.  A few people had distant music or loud voices but by 10 it was quite peaceful.  We were lucky again, as this camp had a reputation for high winds with many windbreaks throughout the site, but we had barely a breath of the stuff.

This is the bird that stole our sandwiches!

Meg close to the Grey Glacier.

Meg with some stunning local scenery.

March 13 Day 1 of W hike - Glaciers and Illness

March 13 Day 26 "W" hike day 1
 I wasn't feeling great but had no fever, so we trooped to the station to get our 7 am bus.  I was fun to see all of the backpackers in town converge there as the sun rose.
 The bus took us to the park entrance and then to the catamaran dock where we had a one hour wait, so splurged on overpriced coffees.  As we lined up for the boat, we talked with our fellow hikers.  A bunch had never done overnight hiking before and one woman was going through Patagonia by hitchhiking.  There were certainly all levels of adventurousness here.  As we boarded we stopped a few times and were worried we wouldn't all get on the boat.  Someone said that its capacity was 80 (we had several busloads of hikers, probably double that figure) but we all got on and it didn't sink.
 The catamaran ride went by some scenic spots on a lake full of little islands.  It was a bit of a crunch as everyone had to cram into a line in the main cabin to pay for the ride and all of the bags were far from the exit, making leaving the boat slow.
 After 30 minutes we landed at Paine Grande camp, which had a series of large, modern buildings and near hotel-like conditions for the glampers (not us).  We took a quick pit stop and got started on our hike at about noon.  Water could be had in any stream, apparently it was all good in the park as long as you took water upstream from the trail.  Neither of us got sick, so I guess it was true.
 The weather was nice and the first few hours were a gradual elevation with views of Grey Lake.  People were constantly going past us and coming the other way, it was the busiest multi-day hike we had ever seen.  Apparently they had limited the number of overnight reservations so that the park wasn't overwhelmed but it was still teeming.  We saw one woman with a wide-brimmed hat and figured that she would be in trouble with the legendary Patagonian wind, but she had the right idea.  There was little wind during our hike and my hat would have kept lots of sun and rain off of my head.
 As we headed north along the lake we began to see bright blue glacial icebergs in the water which became more and more common.  Occasionally we'd go through small wooded areas but mostly we were hiking through open, scrubby and rocky terrain.   At the summit of the trail, we could look over the lake to the glacier proper, which was cleaving the bits into the water.  Quite a view.
 On the way down from the summit we had the worst part of the entire trail as you had to descend along a stream of wet rocks with big jumps for a fair period of time.  After that it levelled off and we were able to spot the roofs of the Grey Campsite.
 As we walked into the site, we went by the main building with hikers out in lounge chairs with glasses of wine.  The camp area had a small indoor dining area and washroom with showers and a store that sold alcohol, eggs and basic food.  It was a much more elaborate setup than we expected. 
 We were told to set up our tent anywhere so we picked a flat spot in the corner of a field close to the dining room and set up our abode.  We set up our stove in the cramped dining hall and talked to a couple from Connecticut who had been hiking the much longer "O" route.  They warned us of losing some food to mice, who had ripped hole through their tent to get in.  after dinner, we put our remaining food into two garbage bags, tied them together and threw them over a branch.
 Most people were considerate but one idiot out a speaker out and was cranking dance tunes.  It stopped before we got to sleep thankfully.  Since I wasn't feeling great, I was in bed before 9 but had trouble sleeping for more than short bits of time despite my exhaustion.  When we got up to pee in the middle of the night, Meg said that the stars were incredible but I hadn't brought my glasses and so missed out on the show.

Meg at the very beginning of our hike.

A typical view during our day.

The Grey Glacier.

March 11 and 12 - last day on thr ferry and getting ready for our hike

March 11 Day 24
 Woke up nicely, had breakfast, washed etc.  The day was cool and overcast with the deck wet from some overnight rain and occasional patches of sunlight.  The hills here were more rugged with fewer trees and lots of scrapy rock visible.  We chatted with a Brazilian couple who told us of an upgrade to our upcoming hike which would give you a tent, sleeping bag and mattress on all of your campsite, freeing you from hauling, renting and packing all of those things yourself.  That was something to look into once we got to Puerto Natales.
 Light rain came down on us throughout the day.  The scenery was misty and we saw more snow and some glaciers up in the mountains.  After lunch Christian the yoga teacher played classical guitar while we lounged in the bar.  Everyone then gathered on the top deck to watch as we went through the narrowest part of our trip and emerged into an area with little rocky islands covered with stunted trees. 
 Our arrival in Puerto Natales was controversial as the website said noon, we were told 5 pm then 8 pm and then 5:30 again.  This was a problem for friends of ours who had booked lodging at the actual park and needed a shuttle, which would be hard to find into the evening.
 We docked a little after six and everyone had to get their bags ready by 5.  We then waited until the ramp was lowered and slowly drifted off to the lounge once we realized that it wasn't happening quickly.  They served us dinner in the meantime and we finally walked off at about 8.
 The town was definitely rough around the edges, with worn homes, graffiti and an abandoned school along our way but our hostel was warm, friendly and easy to find.  We met two ferrymates at the check in desk and as we had tea later some more came in who were just passing by and saw us in the window.  We also met Jeff, a Canadian who had ridden his motorbike from Canada and had taken a different ferry from a more remote location.  We had some fun conversation and then headed to our room.  Apparently, internet was down through most of the town, so nothing to do but read, wash and go to bed.
March 12 Day 25
 Today was a day to get  ready for our trip.  Unfortunately the cold wind on the Navimag had given me a sore throat, but I wasn't about to cancel our trip unless I was completely incapacitated. 
 We walked 15 minutes to the bus station to get our bus tickets and park passes.  We then tried to make an 11 am info session at Erratic Rock but got lost and then found out there was no 11 am session.  We had a long talk with the dude who worked there anyway and got some good advice on where to get gear and grub.
 On the way out we met our Brazilian friends who will be moving to Toronto and made plans to meet with them for dinner.  Then it was a hearty hot lunch for us (also to kill time as most places close from 1 to 3 for siesta) , a visit to the supermarket and then another (the first didn't have peanut butter) and a great dried fruit store for trail mixes and camping dinners.  We also got a new hiking pole and that took us almost the whole afternoon.
 One thing about Puerto Natales is that it isn't ruled by humans as much as dogs.  Very healthy strays are on every street.  There were two in front of our hostel, barking at every car that tried to park there and then spent the night sleeping in the living room area.  We were told that the locals feed them and maybe neuter them, as we didn't see any puppies.  Some had formed small packs but none were as intimidating as the packs we saw in Istanbul.
 We decided to rent our gear at the hostel as they had the same prices as everyone else and we wouldn't have to haul the stuff all over town.  We then completely repacked our gear, keeping our hiking stuff in the big backpacks and leaving everything else in storage at the hostel.
 We had a great dinner with our friends, who were doing the same hike but from the other direction due to trouble booking sites.  They had paid to use the camp tents, sleeping bags and pads but when we looked at that it would have cost us more than an extra $100 a night, which was too much of a hit for our budget.  We compared info that we had gotten and Meg mapped out their job searches once they got to Toronto.  They also recommended a place to stay in the Atacama desert.  We polished off a bottle of wine and ate well, then left for our respective hostels as the bus the next day was at 7 am.

In Puerto Natales with one of the godlike creatures that the natives dressed up as in their ceremonies.

Landing at Puerto Natales with the Navimag in the background.

A lonely island on our last, misty day on the ferry.

March 10 - Navimag ferry Day 3

March 10 Day 23
 The crew had warned us that the big bay we were crossing was going to be the roughest part of our journey.  It was relatively calm, but hours of constant rolling take their toll and Meg chose to stay in bad rather than risk having breakfast.  I couldn't sleep so got up.  There were thick clouds over the mainland and nothing visible but sea on three sides and land in front of us, where we would eventually leave the sea and tuck back into calmer channels.  Dolphins and seals were spotted far off the side of the ship and the air was refreshingly cool after our stuffy cabin.
 The tour of the day was to see the bridge, which was a mix of original equipment from the ship's construction in the 70s and modern computerized instruments.  The captain was there looking at maps and the mate was walking back and forth, checking everything over.  We looked at the depth map and the narrow channels we were going through were often 1000 m deep, which was surprising.  We also learned that the ship uses 25,000 litres of oil and about 15,000 litres of water every day, so huge tanks made up a large part of a ship like this.
 We also passed a wrecked ship.  Apparently an enterprising captain sold off his shipload of sugar and headed for a known submerged rock.  The ruse was that these channels can be more than 1000 metres deep and once the ship was sunk, the insurance money would cover the "lost" cargo and he'd pocket what he'd already sold.  The problem was, the ship stuck to the rock and with no sign of sugar on board, he was found out.  The ship has been left to rust and house birds at this point and our passing of it was an event that got everyone out on deck.

 We read, chatted with people and enjoyed the views.  We went by a ship stranded on a submerged rock, waited for slack tide through the narrowest part of our journey and visited Puerto Eden to drop off supplies.  One of our ferrymates said that it was one of the most isolated communities on the planet, several days boat ride from the nearest settlement.  We could see a walkway through the town, a bit antenna for wifi and phones, a navy base and streetlights.  Many boats came to greet us and left with what looked like only a few sacks of supplies. 
 The ship had some anchor problems which lengthened our stay in Eden so the Tai Chi class was late and the classical guitar demonstration was delayed until the next day.  The water was calm, sometimes like glass, all day with plenty of sun and great views of rugged, glacier-scraped mountains.
 After dinner we gathered for bingo.  The crew handed out pirate hats and balloon swords to get us into the bingo mood.  Meg and I actually won the warmup game which consisted of bouncing ping pong balls off of a table and into a cup held by your teammate and got two sheep fridge magnets as our prize.  Our friend Peter showed amazing skill, winning the first two bingo patterns we had to get.  We ended with about a half dozen karaoke songs led with great enthusiasm by our host, Rodrigo. 
 Before bed we headed outside to see the perfectly black sky due to the overcast skies.  It was warm and calm and we were the only light for probably a few hundred kilometres.  Bed was next and we slept very well with the gentle rocking of the boat and hum of the engines.

The abandoned ship, but not many birds that day.

Puerto Eden, looking like many other fishing towns.

Dressed in our finest for bingo night with our friend Peter, who turned out to be the king of bingo.

March 9 -Navimag Ferry Day 2

March 9 Day 22
 We slept well and Meg was all excited that they had porridge for breakfast.  It was quite windy out but that didn't keep Christian from having a yoga class out on the deck, making sure that people stayed on their mats so that they didn't end up in the ocean.
 The showers were hot and had a changing area, food was plentiful, there were lounges with comfy chairs and benches all over the ship for people to find their own space.  We were constantly passing rugged land, often with tress bent in one direction by the famous Patagonian wind.  All day I saw maybe 5 houses, everything else is pristine, looking the same as natives and explorers saw it hundreds of years ago.  Passing ships were rare, for the most part we were own our own with the water and scenery with nothing to do but chat, read, listen to music or whatever.  It was a nice setup.
 In the morning we had some dolphins splashing beside the boat.  Our guide called out "whale sighting" no matter what the animal was.
 In the afternoon our young guide gave a presentation on fauna which mainly consisted of putting up pictures of birds and telling us what colours they were.  More interesting was a presentation on Mate by a more experienced presenter. Mate is an herb brewed like tea and mixed with almost everything imaginable.  You may have seen mate straws, which  are metal and have a bowl that is spoon-shaped and full of holes to act a s a sieve.  It was bitter and strong but almost palatable when mixed with a bot of sugar.  Many health claims are made about it and for some reason it is most popular in Syria and Jordan. 
 After dinner most people went out to watch the sun set as we neared the open sea.  We had time to watch it, the colours were wild and albatrosses kept skipping across the water to get out of our way. 
 At 9 we had an interesting presentation by a Quebecois man on the Canadian north.  We could barely follow his French but many of his photos were stunning of Inuit people, travel in the north and animal hunts.  We then screened the film Neruda about Pablo escaping government persecution.  Interesting but trying too hard to be artsy and clever.  By the time it was over the ship was really rolling so we went to bed to sleep through the rough part of the journey.

The sort of views we had as we cruised.

People getting sun and keeping themselves entertained on the ferry.

March 8 - Navimag ferry day 1

March 8 Day 21
 We managed to get out of our room by 4:45 am and our taxi was waiting properly for us.  At the airport was had to pay for our checked bags but everything else went smoothly.
 When we arrived Puerto Montt we immediately noticed that the temperature had gone from 25 degrees to 5.  The transport into town was a shared taxi and traffic was pretty gummy but we got to the Holiday Inn Express where our fellow ferry passengers were gathering.  We chatted with some of them and the vibe was good, very friendly people all up for the journey.  We signed in, dropped off our backpacks and had 3 hours or so to explore Puerto Montt before we got our shuttle to the ferry.
 I first heard about Puerto Montt from a travel article in the paper referring to it as a place where many backpackers reported being pickpocketed.  The travel guide also mentioned escalated danger there as well as stating that the cathedral was one of the few attractive buildings in the city.
 We walked around the busy commercial centre of the city and visited a gallery in the Diego Rivera arts centre.  They had one room of landscapes and portraits but had a nice cafe with excellent orange juice and red current jam.  We tried to find Meg rugged sandals but failed and settled for lunch at a cafe with okay food and nice beer.  Our waitress had decent English and was Venezuelan, having escaped here with her family and managed to get a job.
 Our shuttle took us to the ferry and we hauled our bags to our room.  There were various levels of room, we had the second lowest with no window and a shared bathroom but a door to separate us from hallway foot traffic.  We had 4 bunks so lots of space to spread out our stuff and the beds were surprisingly cosy. 
 We napped a bit after our early morning and then went up for the mandatory instruction session.  We found out that there would be activities during the day as well as the basic safety instructions around fire and evacuation.  The ferry had no alcohol of wifi and advertised itself as a digital cleanse.  The literature also recommended that you bring that long book you've always meant to read along with you.  The cafeteria was nice and the upstairs bar (mocktails and 0.5% beer) had cosy couches and picture windows.
 There were many large outside decks with benches, a foosball table and a giant chess set.  Everyone was very friendly and from talking with people we heard that the ship was only at half capacity (100 instead of 200 people) and the forecast was excellent.  We were to have a less crowded and relatively smooth crossing and the crew seemed really friendly.  We also got the information that school was in (March is their September) so high season was effectively over so places and activities were unlikely to be fully booked and deals could be had.
 We didn't get going until 6 pm but the views in port were still wonderful in the bright sunlight.  People were taking pictures, lounging, enjoying the view and reading their books in the sun.  We watched as the ropes were cast off and a tug helped to push our ferry in the right direction.  We also saw a sea lion surfacing and diving as it made its way into port.
 The view of Puerto Montt as we were leaving was quite scenic as in the distance were a dormant volcano and a snow covered peak.  Also we progressed the view became more regular with water and land in the distance and we retired inside.
 We were almost constantly talking with our fellow passengers who were very well travelled and great sources of information.  Dinner was tasty salmon with interesting but not tasty seaweed stuff.  Water, coffee and tea were there 24 hours if we wanted it.
 We had an evening talk about the route we would be taking.  Our guide was still working on his English and many of his statements weren't really clear, it felt like is first time doing this.  He did inform us of the scenic and tricky bit along our route, where to take nausea pills and where to look for whales.  After the talk there was a movie that no one knew the name of but it was almost 10 and we had sleep to catch up on.

The tugboat captain does some squeegeeing while waiting to help us.

Sunset from the ferry.

March 6 and 7 - Last days resting in Santiago

March 6 Day 19

 We had a nice breakfast in our room and just hung out in the morning.  Meg still needed rest at noon so I headed out on my own to check out the funicular to the top of a big hill graced by a giant Virgin Mary and the Pablo Neruda house. 
 I decided to walk there, which took about 30 minutes.  Along the way I went by the main arts centre, which was aptly described by our guidebook as looking like a rusty cheese grater.  I went through several busy squares before I crossed the river, which was a stream of muddy runoff.  I then walked through a student area and saw a busy food truck and got a hot dog absolutely smothered in mayonnaise.  I regretted my choice when I found both a shawarma stall and a burrito joint just one block further along the way.
 There was a 20 minute lineup for funicular purchases because the ticketing system was slow and people were having long, involved discussions about the 6 or so choices of ticket types.  I purchased a one-way ticket, figuring that if they sold such a thing there must be a path down that could be taken.
 The bottleneck for the lines was at the ticket booth so there was lots of space in the funicular itself.  It was made up of two cars linked by a cable that went in opposite directions and followed the same track other than a bubble in the middle to keep the two cars from crashing into each other.  The ride was smooth and the views progressively more impressive as we ascended. 
 The views at the top were worth it.  Santiago is a very large city surrounded by mountains so the view from a steep hill in the middle of it will be impressive.  At the top was the giant statue as well as a small chapel and an area covered in old candle wax and memorabilia from people praying for their loved ones.
 After a few minutes of looking around I decided to find the path down.  The roads didn't descend at all and I wandered around for a bit before finding a map that showed several bikes-only trails heading down and one pedestrian one that seemed to go in the right direction.  I found a directions post that seemed to mark a path as a pedestrian one and followed it for about 30 minutes, but the path neither ascended nor descended so I couldn't get down off the mountain nor back up to the funicular and I could see that a large iron fence went along most of the bottom of the hill.  It was hot and I wasn't encountering anyone but occasional construction workers laying pipe so I started going down dusty switchbacks to get down from there, but they always ended in warning signs saying that pedestrians couldn't cross because of construction danger.  Eventually I decided to go through a barrier and talk to some construction guys who said it was alright to go down the road after a truck finished coming up, which would be in a few minutes.  While we waited he offered me some ice cold water, which was very welcome as I left my water bottle back in the room.
 After the truck passed I thanked my hosts and headed out of the construction entrance and found my way down.  Close to the funicular was the Pablo Neruda house.  I went in with an audioguide, this time only having 11 stops.  The house was interesting, full of knick knacks, Diego Rivera paintings, surrealist furniture and rooms based of the interior of ships.  It was nice but not exceptional and  about 30 minutes is all it took to see everything.
 I grabbed a soda and headed back to the room where Meg was sick of being sick and decided to take the antibiotics out travel medicine consultant recommended.  We then went for a walk through the neighbourhood looking for rice and soup for her.  We found a sushi place that had both and I tried Chilean sushi.
 What is up with Chilean food?  There and empanadas everywhere, but other than that pizza, sushi, hot dogs and gelato are the order of the day.  The two sushi places close to us were combination sushi/Peruvian places.  We thought it was an odd combo, but Peru has ceviche so they are two cultures that eat raw fish and there has been a Japanese president of Peru so the links are many. 
 Chilean sushi comes with no wasabi or pickled ginger, just a bottle of soy sauce and a shallow bowl of oyster sauce.  One roll and cooked chicken and cream cheese wrapped in rice, rolled in bread crumbs and deep fried.  The other had salmon and cream cheese in rice with an avocado outer coating.  I had to scrape out the sweet cream cheese with my chopsticks to make them at all edible and was jealous of Meg's excellent looking chicken soup.
 We walked around for a bit in the neighbourhood and saw a lot of people sleeping on cardboard and discarded mattresses on the street, just in one area.  We wondered if they were Venezuelans like in Columbia but later on a cab driver said that they were Chileans.  They all kept to one small area and had a sense of community, maybe staying close to the local hospital.  After the walk we were ready for sleep.
March 7 Day 20
 We got up and the drugs seemed to be doing the trick, Meg was feeling better.    We did laundry and then headed out to find stamps and visit some museums.
 At the main square we found the post office with the help of a police officer and found a huge lineup, but another officer told us there was a separate office for buying stamps, but it was closed for lunch.  We left and walked down busy pedestrian streets toward the museum and stopped for lunch at a nice sidewalk patio place that had excellent microbrew beer and tasty chicken and rice. 
 The museum of Bella Artes also contains the contemporary art museum.  The building is gorgeous with huge open spaces, female figure pillars a la the Acropolis, ornate metalwork and a big glass bubble for a roof.  The main hall displayed sculptural reproductions and everything else was closed except for the contemporary stuff on the top floor, which had some interesting pieces but our Spanish wasn't good enough to get most of the context.

 On the way out of the museum I spotted someone sitting on  a bench whom I saw in the museum and looked familiar so I went up to him and said, "Peter?"
"Yes..."
"Buckland?"
"Yes!"
 He was a gallery owner in the Saint John arts scene and had retired and was travelling with his wife Judy.  What a coincidence!  We had a great chat, exchanged experiences and were all amazed by the moment.
 We headed back, Meg got her stamps and we walked to the Italian place we had been to a few nights before for more excellent food.  The pesto wasn't as good as our pasta the previous night but the soup and service were excellent and we got an outside table.
 We had to pack our stuff up for our 4:15 am flight the next day so headed back and got to bed early.

Santiago from the top of the hill.

Neruda's house from across the street, no photography allowed inside.

Bella Artes Museum main atrium.

March 4 and 5 still chilling in Santiago

March 4 Day 17
 The breakfast at the hostel was good and we spent the morning dropping off laundry and getting a sim card.  The guide book and government website say that foreigners must register their phones online and wait 5 days for approval but our little shop didn't seem to worry about that.  Violation of Chilean law #2.  They spent a good 20 minutes on our phone and only charged us $4, pretty good service.
 I booked us a better place for our last 3 nights in Santiago and we headed to the subway to get our BIP cards to use the metro system.  Then it was off to La Moneda, the presidential palace as it was one of the few attractions in the city open on a Monday.  To visit the palace, we would have to book 3 weeks in advance and so that wasn't happening.  Underneath the palace was an art installation that focused on hoses in Chile over history.  There was also a show featuring pictures of market vendors and a room of oddities from the animal kingdom.
 We walked up a long pedestrian mall and kept trying various ATMs, none of which would work.  On some of then I got a blue 404 screen which is not what one expects.  The mall ended at Plaza De Armas where we visited the cathedral and then headed back.
 We dined at a local Italian place which had tasty zucchini cilantro soup for Meg and amazing wild mushroom ravioli with truffle oil for me.  Meg also had garlic pasta, craving blandness. 
 Back at our room we had another good night of sleep.  Meg found some Youtube channels featuring Winnie the Pooh stories read by Stephen Fry and Judy Dench for mental comfort food.
March 5 Day 18
 Our last day at Chile Pepper.  Before we left, Meg was stretched out on the bed when what looked like a ladybug crawled down her stomach.  A last tick!  I picked it up and gished it and it was full of blood.  Violation of Chilean law #3, no bringing animals into the country.
 Checking my e-mail, I saw a series of fraud alerts and found that the reason I couldn't use any ATM was that my withdrawal request exceeded my daily limit.  Easily fixable, so we were able to take out money now, the only annoyance being the $13 service charge that Banco De Chile applies.
 We packed up after getting our laundry and put our bags into storage as we couldn't move into our new place until 2 pm and had to check out of our old one by 11 am.  We headed downtown to look at the highly recommended Human Rights Museum, beside Parque Quintas Simple.  We took a quick detour into the park, there was security at the entrance and all foreigners had to sign a book before entering.  There were museums in the park and it went on for 6o hectares.  The bit we rested in was shady and well-used but a little concretely, with large paved walkways and a cement-lined and really murky artificial lake.
 Like most museums in Santiago, the Museum of the Memory is free.  We paid a few dollars each for the audioguide which had more than 70 info stops.  The first floor was all about monuments and judicial processes set up since the Pinochet regime.  The second floor was about the coup and violations by the dictatorship.  It included the names of all of the disappeared, survivor testimony and the government processes that created the culture of fear.  There was video, newspaper images, documents and items made by prisoners.  The museum was very well curated and didn't shy away from brutality but also didn't get gratuitous about it.  A very interesting thing was the constant references to Sept. 11, which for them in 1973.  It has a different meaning here, just like the word "America" refers to our hemisphere, not jut the US, in South American countries.
 Refreshingly, the topo floor focused on protests during the regime and its eventual downfall.  he sheer number of protests were amazing, considering that everyone involved in these events would be risking not just their own lives but those of their extended families.  The 80s were a more active time for protest, eventually leading to a democratically elected president in 1990.  Surprisingly absent from a museum with so much information was the American involvement in installing Pinochet and Thatcher's protection of him from the European court.  Maybe those were just missing from the English translation.

 We headed back to our hostel to move our bags to our new place and Meg was up for a 30 minute shlep so we asked Francisco to call us a cab.  We were told it would be 30 minutes for a taxi.  While we waited we found out that one of the desk clerks at the hostel was a Venezuelan who was "volunteering" in exchange for room and board.   The taxi driver then didn't turn on his meter and said it was a flat $50 CDN ride.  We told him we weren't going to the airport.  I guess our hostel assumed this instead of supposing we were going to another residence.
 The taxi driver was cool with that and we made it to our new place with our host, Pimpo.  The place had a nice courtyard and the room had more space and a kitchenette but was very compact.  We settled in, I went shopping and around he neighbourhood etc. while Meg rested.  I grabbed some empanadas and Meg reheated yesterday's pasta and we watched some Youtube together.  

Meg in front of La Moneda.

March 2 and 3 Santiago and recovery

March 2 Day 15 Two days and no pictures.  Not every aspect of travel is super-exciting.
 Transit day!  We had breakfast at the hotel and said out last goodbyes.  Our taxi was 20 minutes early but had no problem waiting.  On the drive to the airport you could see many beach condos being built and the airport itself was right next to a very pleasant looking strip of sand, if you didn't mind planes constantly going over you while you sunbathed.
 As we checked in the desk clerk asked for our onward ticket, which we didn't have as we wanted our dates to be flexible.  We insisted we didn't need one but found out later in rereading our guide book that he was right.  He let us go through anyway and this would be our first violation of Chilean law.
 We transferred in Bogota at another nice, new airport.  As I looked at our gates number I saw that our tickets were standby, so went to the gate and was told that they were oversold by 10.  We had lunch and I exchanged money, then went back to the desk to hear that they had offered bonuses for people giving up their seats and we had one and needed just one more for us to get on.
 We were still waiting with a group of others after the plane had fully loaded, fully braced for news that we would have to take a flight the next day and negotiate our compensation with them.  Fortunately, he handed us boarding passes and our seats were together!  Bonus.
 North American airlines could learn so much from the rest of the world when it comes to making passengers happy..  We had entertainment screens and watched a few movies, had two meals and the drinks came around several times with free alcohol, should one desire. 
 We landed too late to get a bus to the subway (which closes at 11 pm).  We tried to get a shuttle but they were very confused and got our information wrong twice.  We then paid a bit more and got a taxi who was very confident and so not surprising got lost in our neighbourhood.
 Finally we arrived at the Chile Pepper hostel with our host Francisco waiting with a key.  It was a bunk bed room but we were used to that and so quickly went to sleep.
March 3 Day 16
 Meg needed a recovery day so most of the day was spent at the hostel.  They offered to move us to a room with a double bed so we took them up on it.  We had only booked two nights and so looked for airbnb alternatives on the advice of a friend who had stayed in Santiago before.  Unfortunately, our old account was linked to phone and e-mails that we had cancelled, so I set up a new one.  They then required a phone # to verify who we were and we did not have a Chilean sim card yet.
 I went through the neighbourhood trying to do some errands but Santiago takes its Sundays seriously.  Almost nothing was open and so no laundry or sim card purchasing could be done today.  We booked the hostel for another night, it was basic but comfortable and the sprawling layout was interesting and the staff were nice.
 We were the only diners at the pizza place we went to for dinner but Meg was happy to have a spinach salad.  A French guy helped us translate why our bill payment didn't go through.  Apparently you can choose to pay the entire bill in one go or delay it, a strange choice.
 Back at the hostel we had a good night's sleep mainly because very few other people were there.  Maybe airbnb is cutting into hostel business but if our time there is representative then Chile Pepper Hostel won't be around much longer.

March 1 Day 5 Lost City Trek - Relief and exhaustion

March 1 Day 14
 We arose after checking our boots for scorpions and had a cold breakfast but were looking forwards to what we supposed to be our easiest day of hiking.  We had to backtrack for about 5 minutes to get onto a smaller path upon which we would be the only tourists, and not many mules or motos either.  It would be mostly descending today as we were heading out of the mountains back to the city.  For a bonus, we had put our daypacks on a mule and so were less laden than we had been previously.
 The hike started off alright as we skirted farms and we up and down hills with excellent views.  Raphael would often visit people and catch up with us when he was done.  Initially, he ran to get up with us after dealing with our backpack mule and was actually sweating, the first time we had seen this. 
 One of our group was having bad stomach problems so at one of the farms we stopped to hire a mule for her to ride.  The mule was led by a smiling girl who looked about 8 years old but seemed to know what she was doing.
 Soon after the farm, Raphael warned us of an area that had a lot of ticks.  One of our group reached down to grad a dropped pole and his hand was immediately covered with a hundred black specks about the size of black pepper bits that swarming over his skin.  He brushed off what he could but ended up finding the little demons on various body parts for the rest of the day.  The group moved quickly through this area but the day's morale did not recover.
 Meg was starting to feel badly but kept moving forwards along the narrow trail.  We had to take another break when the mule's saddle broke and everyone clustered to puzzle out how it could be repaired.  We stopped in another farm with very healthy animals and watched a crew of piglets chase their mom all over the place and suckle when they could.
 Everyone was exhausted as we continued down our narrow trails in the heat.  As we neared the end we had two river crossings which fortunately weren't too difficult.  After the last one we rejoiced to see the Wiwa village of Gotsezhi.  We walked through it and saw a lively village full of people including a schoolhouse with boards on easels and kids playing ball in the street.
 Our destination for lunch was a further 10 minutes past the village and we really dragged our asses there until we could finally sit.  Everyone collapsed in their own way; sitting, lying, leaning and drinking the juice that was provided to us.
 We were visiting a Planeterra project in association with G Adventures.  The village is outside of the normal tourist route to the lost city so the funds go to building eating and sleeping areas for visitors, good washrooms and training the women to cook for large groups of visitors.  The lunch was excellent, vegetable soup followed by a whole fish with vegetables and more juice.
 After lunch, Filipe went over the project and told us we would only have a short visit with the women's weaving project as he wanted to get back to the city early because carnivale might be starting today which would gum up the streets.  We visited a small shelter where an older and younger woman were weaving and many bags of various sizes were on display for sale.  We saw the dyed fibres they used and got to ask questions and many bags were sold to our group.
 It was then time to get back into our 4 x 4s and head to Santa Marta.  The road from the village was much rougher than our road in and Meg had trouble trying to nap as the vehicle bucked from side to side and spun its wheels several times navigating the step, dusty roads.
 Everyone was cheered to see pavement and the traffic was thick and slow as we headed back into town.  We got back in good time as carnivale wasn't going to really happen until the next day.  We found our bags and had a few hours to freshen up before dinner.
 As we showered more tick removal happened.  Wendy's roommate became an expert after watching Wendy take 10 ticks off of her.  I only had one and Meg had a maybe one that we removed anyway.  It felt really good to put on clean clothes and bag our reeking hiking gear.
 We gathered in the lobby and collected tips for Filipe.  Meg and another member weren't up for dinner so we said some goodbyes.  The restaurant was a Greek/Italian beast with good pizza and I had the Greek paella which was also tasty.  We had lots to talk about and it felt good to sit in dry clothes.

 Many goodbyes were said after dinner as we had an early flight the next day.  I repacked my stuff for flight while Meg rested and caught another tick scooting along the floor.  Sleep was good but far too short.

Terrain criss-crossed by grazing animals.

Raphael shows us the old sugar cane crushing machinery.

Tired hikers and the Mamo.

Feb. 28 Day 4 Lost City Trek A good day to ride a mule

Feb. 28
 Once again we didn't have to get up at dawn but this time the other groups were a little more considerate so the noise wasn't too bad at 5 am.  The previous day at dinner Filipe had surveyed if anyone had had enough with hiking and wanted a mule for the day.  We were only hiking 4-5 hours but two of the hours were steep ascents.  Four people opted for the mules, including Meg.
 The first hour was a straight ascent for an hour, thankfully mainly in the shade.  We were retracing our steps but they were heavy ones.  We had a pineapple/orange break at the camp where there were still Columbian soldiers and rifles all over the place.  We heard about mule drama from the riding team with our equine friends kicking at each other and narrowly missing Felix.
 Next was a descent down to the river with the metal bridge where we had a break as the sun was out fully today.  We were now on a dusty, deeply grooved path in direct sunlight for another hour of ascending.  One of us would voice hope if ahead we saw anything resembling our camp for the night.  Finally we were correct and collapsed in the dining area, with the mule people already there being annoyingly fresh and perky.
 Now the fun started.  A few people had found ticks on them so everyone partnered up and had pre-shower tick inspections.  I had two, one of which I had noticed the day before but thought it was an old scab.  Wendy, with her medical training, became our resident tick puller although her previous tick removal experience was solely with felines.  Our cook, Chavez, gained notoriety when he removed one with his bare fingers from one of the women's butt.  They looked It certainly was a new and creepy experience for most people on the trip.
 We spent the afternoon playing games in the dining area including Skip Bo, dice, Scattergories and Handbanz with only Skip Bo in commercial form and the rest with pencil and paper.  Good to see so many gamers of different ages amongst the group. 
 Before dinner we gathered in a circle around a fire to hear stories from Felix and Raphael.  The pile of logs were huge but they burned quite nicely as we settled in.  Felix told a long and rambling but funny story about Unlucky Pedro, which was a trickster-like character who got into lots of trouble but solved his problems by dressing as a woman and stealing all of the treasure from a king who fell in love with him.   We asked Filipe (who was translating these stories from Spanish) why he was unlucky and he said that he didn't understand either.  Felix said that the moral was if you did bad things but made up for them later you could be forgiven, but he made up for them by stealing from someone else so it didn't seem really moral.
 While Felix was telling his story, Raphael was digging postholes for our G-Adventures banner and impatiently pointing to his watch.  His stories were more traditional ones about how the toucan got its beak and how people arose from their shadows but they were short and to the point, lacking Felix's skill for embellishment.  He told a few of them, telling us how many stories he knew and that the full creation story would take several days to properly tell.

 While we were sitting there some people noticed that there were many ticks on the ground so many of our group tucked their feet up.  I flicked off a few that I noticed on my hand, they were small and tough like fleas.  Just before dinner a scorpion walked out of the fire and Raphael chased it off.  In case anyone needed reminding that we were in a jungle...
 We dove into our dinner, which was Chavez's last with us so Felipe put out a box to collect tips in.  It was delicious and we finished off with a headbanz game before climbing into our bunks to sleep.

Meg and her gallant steed.

Jungle dressage.

Some of the scenery we were constantly surrounded by.

Felix the storyteller.

Feb. 27 Day 12 Lost City Tour Day 3 A Farewell to Hammocks

Feb.27 Day 12
 Since we made it to the lost city the previous day, we were allowed to sleep in.  Unfortunately, the group that came in late had to get up at 5 am and they were as rude and loud as they were the night before, with their guide remaining the worst of the bunch.  The requests for them to be quiet started out polite but were no more effective when they became "Shut the #$%% up!".  Once they left we had some time to sleep but Meg and I were awake and she went for a walk by the river and came to breakfast in good spirits. 
 After a filling, starchy breakfast we retraced our steps back to Wiwa camp for another night.  This would be our shortest hiking day with a long descent that was harder on your mind and knees but didn't make you sweat as much.  In spite of it being only a 4 hour hike, we all agreed that the last hour was a long one, probably because of the toll the previous two days had taken on us.  The scenery was as beautiful as ever but we were glad to be hiking just in time for lunch.
 After eating we had a 15 minute walk to a waterfall for a swim.  I was expecting just some water going over a rock but it was beautiful and we swam in our sweaty clothes tp rinse them out.  Several members of the group climbed up the falls and sat in the spray but those injury-minded amongst us stayed down in the pool below, admiring the view and letting the cool water soothe our complaining muscles.
 We walked back to camp, showered, changed into our clean clothes and slept or lounged about for a few hours.  Most showers were still fine but one had a sleeping dog in it and another had a bare wire hanging down in the middle of the stall, not something you'd like to have with you in the shower.   Before dinner, Raphael had us gather in a firehouse to learn about Wiwa culture.  He and Felix had their tamburus which were given to them at adulthood.  They consisted of a calabash filled with powdered seashell and a stick coming out.  When they had time they would chew coca leaves, take a bit of the powder into their mouths via the stick and think about removing negative thought and replacing them with positive ones.  They then spit out the coca/shell mixture and rubbed it around the rim of the calabash, gradually forming a large ring.  The tamburua were made and given to people by their mamu and they could read how people were thinking by the state of their tamburu.  When the ring got too large, they would keep it in one place to be used to perform certain rituals and get a new, more portable one.
 We also heard that when boys came of age they had to live with  a spinster or widow for several months to learn how to live with a woman.  They would fix the woman's house or tend their crops in return for this service.  Felix was asked how he would react if his children wanted to join unban society and he said that he would be happy for them if they chose that life but they had to learn Wiwa ways and respect for nature first.  Both of our Wiwa guides were very open to whatever questions we had and served us coca tea and popcorn while they spoke.
 There were many groups there that night and so we couldn't even fit our bunch at one table.  It was the weakest meal of the trip - canned tuna sauce on pasta.  Everyone was clos to collapsing by the end of dinner and we returned to our bunks, with Wendy's bedbug bunk empty but almost all of the others full.  I had another good sleep at Wiwa camp.

This hut has a solar panel if you look closely.

Our post-hike waterfall.

Felix and Raphael give a talk in the fire hut.

Feb. 26 Day 11 Lost City Trek 2 - The lost city- all to ourselves!

Feb. 26 day 11
 We had some rain during the night so only clothing that was under the edge of a roof was dry, the rest was still quite wet.  We put on our soaked hiking gear, packed the other wet things in plastic bags, had breakfast and set off.  The coldness of the clothes barely lasted 10 minutes before we started to heat up from the hike and our sweat would have soaked the stuff in a little more time so no big deal.  This was the only rain we saw in the two weeks we spent in Columbia.  Dry season indeed.
 Wendy woke up covered in bedbug bites.  It was surprising, as my mattress and hers were only separated by a few inches on the same board but I had none.  The bites were undeniable and I didn't envy her them.
 Today was listed as being the toughest day of the hike because of a particularly steep ascent and they weren't kidding.  We followed the stream for a bit, having to scramble over rocks.  The next section was on land but very narrow.  Fortunately, there were newly installed fences between the trail and the dropoff, giving us the additional help of having ropes and wires to hold onto as we hiked.  What had been a dusty trail was now a muddy one and the rocks were slippery as we headed up higher and higher. 
 One of our group ate something bad during our stay in Santa Marta and needed a mule for the first day of the hike.  she decided to stay in Wiwa camp until we returned and was asking everyone if they had an extra book they could leave with her, but no luck.
 I'm mainly describing the hiking, but every once in awhile you'd snap out of your staring-at-your-feet-and-moving-on mode and look around at the incredible jungle we were in, a few days away from the nearest paved road. 
 Most places had electricity via generators and a few places even had wifi.  Some of the mule trains that passed us had big, green canisters of propane for cooking with.  For better or for worse, tourism brings modern conveniences bit by bit.  The competition for charging plugs was still pretty fierce during our time there.
 Our basic pattern was every hour we'd regroup to make sure that everyone was still with us.  The guides took turns being at the front and back of the group.  every two hours we'd get a surprise of watermelon or pineapple and oranges.  Every four hours we'd stop for a meal (uniformly huge and starch-packed, lots of energy for hiking).  There was no pressure to hike faster than you were comfortable doing and people would chat and pant together in changing clumps during the day.
 At one place we saw soldiers camped out, giving each other haircuts and taking it easy.  Their rifles were leaning all over the camp but they didn't make anyone nervous.  We drove through many army raod stops during our two weeks in Columbia but they never hassled us. 
 At around noon, we arrived in our camp for the night.  It was a newer, Wiwa-run one and we were told we would be the only ones using it.  It was different in that it was all hammocks which none of our group had done more than nap in prior to today.  The facilities were good enough and we had another good meal before deciding on our next move.
 We decided that instead of spending the rest of the day lounging and having to get up early the next morning to visit the lost city, we do the 1 1/2 hour hike in the afternoon and have the place to ourselves while we visited it.  We had the time and it would make the next day's hike that much easier.
 The hike took us across more jungle, though two rivers we had to take off our boots to cross and tehn a final half hour climbing the more than 1000 steps that led to the lost city.  These steps were often narrow, always wet and slippery and often so worn they were angled downwards.  Many were loose and the slope they made varied from very to insanely steep.  Every step had to be watched and regular pauses for catching breath were made as we followed the centuries-old path.
 So it felt great when we reached the top.  Apparently the site had never been lost but shared amongst the local indigenous people for sacred meetings at various times of the year.  A few decades ago, local archeological robbers found the site and spend years tearing it apart and extracted unknown numbers of treasures for black market sales.  After that the area was made a park and reconstructed followed by its opening for tourism and ultimately, our arrival there. 
 Most of the area was covered by large, circular stone terraces of varying sizes and placements.  The isolation and surrounding jungle really gave it a presence, on top of the fact of teh hard work we had to do to get there.  We were the only ones there besides some soldiers who were permanently stationed there.
 Raphael started us off by leading a ceremony where we were all given coca leaves We were to take any negativity and put it into the leaves.  Then we were to discard the leaves into a pile and focus on positivity and thus enter the site in a positive frame of mind.
 Our guides showed us some marked stones that marked geographic and culturally significant places.  He described a few things about then but said that only a mamo could properly interpret the carvings on the stones.  A mamo is sort of a holy man.  Rafael told us how the high mamos are kept from seeing the sun for 18 years and are kept from women and specially trained to be holy.  The details sometimes changed in translation but the idea was that they were treated differently from a young age, exposed to experiences to put them in an uncommon state of mind and looked upon to guide their village and be lifelong spiritual learners.
 As we moved from one area to another on the site we invariably had to climb more steep staircases.  We had a canine companion all along the day's journey who was christened different names by different hikers.  These names were combined into Gordon B Flea Doggie and he followed us until the next day, never begging for food but often getting underfoot as we hiked.
 We finally came to our final plateau even though we could see more of the city continue up the hill.  The views were excellent and many photographs were taken before our guides came down with our surprise - chips and nuts on a platter edged with Oreo cookies and guava fudge.  I only had a bit of the sweet things as I was down to 1/4 cup of water and couldn't afford to eat the salty snacks.  i was really looking forward to juicy fresh fruit but they were so proud of their platter I didn't complain.
 We took a different back down the lost city which gave us an idea of how sprawling it was.  we went by some huts and several more series of terraces of different sizes and configurations with smaller stone trails leading down that were part of their water system.
 We all dreaded our return down the 1000+ slippery steps.  We went slowly and cautiously with several people slipping but no real injuries. We were already quite exhausted and the descent took all of our remaining concentration.  The first ones to the bottom took off their boots to recross the river but once the guides showed up they took everyone across a series of stepping stones so the slower people didn't have to get their feet wet.
 We were now pushing sundown and this was not a trail that one would want to navigate in the dark.  Parts were difficult but we made it back to our camp just before 6 pm to find that we would be sharing it with several other groups that night.  Dinner was excellent as always but it was loud and crowded as everyone tried to get into their hammocks.  I found them quite uncomfortable and they were so close together that when anyone moved they set off a series of movements along the row of hammock, just like those rows of silver balls on strings that you put on a desk and pull the one on the end to click the rest of them.
 Just as we were nodding off, a loud group arrived and started yelling over us and banging into hammocks.  Their guide was the worst of them and they were quite obnoxious as they got their hammocks sorted.  Eventually we got back to sleep but this was the worst night for sleeping on the trip after the longest day of hiking we had to do.

Meg celebrates arriving at the lost city with Felix.

Straight out of a Kipling story.

Just a few of the more than 1000 steps that we went up, then down.