The R&R Big Adventure

Cruising in Fiordland

I should learn not to say what we are going to do the next day in this blog as it will invariably tempt fate. We thought if we were going to have problems with flights on this trip it would probably be in South America. However, our flight to Queenstown on Sunday evening was cancelled due to a faulty cockpit computer and there were no other flights departing that evening. It was deeply frustrating as it meant we missed our Milford Sound cruise the next day, but better, we thought, that they discovered the fault at 30 feet, and not 36,000. To be fair to Air New Zealand, once we had disembarked they sprung into action and pulled people (I assume) from their back office, despite being a Sunday evening, to help sort new flights and overnight accommodation. We eventually got to Queenstown via Wellington (flying north, to fly back south) late afternoon on Monday, and during our final descent into Queenstown we could understand why the pilot said they couldn’t fly at night, given how close the plane was to the mountain tops, and sides, as we were coming into land. After seeing the Andes from various angles in South America, we wondered whether the Southern Alps of New Zealand would be an anti-climax: we were wrong. They really were spectacular.

As we had essentially now lost a day due to the flight cancellation, we didn’t hang around when we got to our hotel, and headed straight out in the hire car (a slightly rusted Toyota Corolla with nearly 175,000km on the clock – let’s hope it makes it back up to Christchurch next week…). We drove an hour north out of town to Glenorchy, a very pretty place on the northern shore of Lake Wakatipu. From here we had amazing views of the surrounding snow-capped mountains, and were geographically very close (across a mountain range) to where we would be sailing in Milford Sound, now on Wednesday. Interestingly, it was originally named after Milford Haven in Wales. From here we did a couple of hours circular walk by the lake, stopping at a quaint general store for water (which considering it was in the middle of nowhere, had a good range of champagne for sale, including Dom Perignon. Clearly houses in these remote parts weren’t cheap). Going into Queenstown for dinner that evening we came across lots of upmarket restaurants and shops, including a Louis Vuitton. It didn’t come as a surprise then when we later found out that some of the most expensive real estate in New Zealand is in this area. With stunning views in every direction of lakes and mountains, and lots of fresh air, you can understand why.

Tuesday we explored Wanaka and the surrounding area, another lakeside town, about an hour from Queenstown. We tried to do a country walk just outside Wanaka but literally got bogged down in bog, so had to give it a miss. However we were rewarded when we got to Wanaka with more amazing mountains-by-a-lake views, and less touristy then Queenstown. There was further evidence again here of how NZ invests in its open spaces, with a new boardwalk that bordered the lake, and plenty of free parking and facilities for visitors. We walked round a good proportion of the lake, and then after lunch, went onto Roy’s Peak, a mountain lookout a short drive out of Wanaka. We didn’t have enough time to do the trail to the summit and back (it takes over four hours) but even walking up a steep ascent for half an hour gave amazing views over the surrounding lake and mountains. The blue skies we had that day transformed into a lovely sunset in the evening back in Queenstown, and we took some lovely photos over the lake and town.

Wednesday morning we were up and out to catch the coach from Queenstown to Milford Sound to pick up our overnight cruise. Whilst Milford Sound is not that far as the crow flies from Queenstown, to get to it by road is a near 5hr drive (with stops) but which does go through some very beautiful countryside. As we pulled away from Te Anau, the gateway town to Fiordland, the weather set in, and it really started raining. The driver cheerfully announced that this was one of the wettest places in the world, and regularly receives 8-9m of rain per year. Yesterday afternoon the rain wasn’t just horizontal, it was coming at us from every angle of the compass. I was beginning to wonder why we had paid not once, but now twice for this trip (given we missed Monday’s departure) and what had we let ourselves in for, especially if the water was going to be rough. The driver continued his excitement for how ‘wild’ the Sound would be today, and how we would be ‘in for a treat’. Really?

We had a sense of what to expect when, during the last few kms of the drive to the dock, we could see mini waterfalls cascading from hundreds, if not thousands of places on the mountain walls that bordered the road. With so much water falling in one place at one time, it has to find a way down from the tops of the mountains as quickly as possible. We could barely see beyond the boat as we boarded, let alone the other side of the lake such was the ferocity of the rain, and thick low cloud that hung in the fiord. The briefing from the captain didn’t fill me with much hope (‘we may or may not be able to use the tenders or kayaks’) and as we set sail it really did look like someone was throwing buckets of water at the cabin windows. Given we were in a fiord, though, despite the wind and rain, the water was calm, and the boat wasn’t rocking. Phew. As we proceeded out into the fiord, we could gradually make out huge waterfalls, and similar to what we saw by the road on the journey down, huge cliff faces with thousands of mini waterfalls running off them. If we hadn’t seen it with our own eyes we would have thought it was a CGI effect. The gusts of wind were so strong at times that the water falling from over a hundred metres high didn’t have a chance to hit the fiord before it was blown sideways. We found out today that 36cm of water fell yesterday in that area.

I was getting soaked enough just being on deck watching all this; ‘Bertie The Adventurer’, though, wanted to go out in one of the tenders. Fifteen or so people, all wearing lifejackets, crammed into one of the small boats, which then sped off into the murk, like a lifeboat leaving a sinking ship. I didn’t understand why they wanted to go out and get really wet, when you could essentially see the same things from the main ship, except with a glass of New Zealand white in your hand.

When they got back half an hour or so later – thoroughly drenched – R decided he also wanted to go for a swim, which they were letting people do. Three others joined him in the water, but then they all remembered the water was exceptionally cold, so that didn’t last long. R finally saw sense, showered off, and joined me for a drink. The weather was still battering the boat as we had dinner, but the boat was still not rocking, and fortunately we managed a good night’s sleep.

This morning we woke to a mixture of sun and mist, which made for an eery early morning start on the deck at 6.30am. Sure enough, as our experts had predicted, now the rain had stopped, the thousands of waterfalls we had seen off the mountains had now all but dried up. The clearing mists meant we could finally see the mountains in all their glory – and the different colours of rock and vegetation in the daylight. We were actually glad now we did have the rain to be able to see the contrasts of the fiord in the different weather conditions. We travelled down the fiord to the Tasman sea (and saw two cute small penguins venturing out into the sea from the rocks as we did so), and actually briefly ventured out in it. I was prepared for the worst – it is supposedly one of the roughest seas in the world – but fortunately the waves were small, and we came back into the calm waters of the fiord after twenty minutes or so.

The scenery both yesterday and today was spectacular, for different reasons, and we were glad we made the effort to do it. It was another long drive back to Queenstown, but with sunny skies we saw so much more on the way back, including a pair of very intelligent Kea birds (large parrots, native to the region), grooming and playing with each other by the side of the road.

No rest for the wicked (and why the delay in this blog). When we got back, we drove out to Arrowtown, a former gold mining settlement twenty minutes drive from Queenstown, which has some bijou shops, galleries and interior designers on its main street.

We’ve enjoyed our time in this part of the South Island, and can see why it is so popular – you could easily spend a two week holiday just in this region, exploring the beautiful scenery and going on different treks every day.

Test Match Special

The Cook Strait crossing was thankfully smooth, and the views as we approached the South Island were beautiful. The train journey from Picton down to Christchurch was made better by the fact our carriage wasn’t very full and the meal service very friendly. It is indeed a scenic train route, and we were glad we took it – seeing vineyards, rolling hills, salt flats and lots of coastline on the journey south. You could smell the waves from the open air observation car. It is fair to say we had sampled a few glasses of New Zealand wine by the end of the nearly six hour journey. After checking in to our hotel, we had a short explore of Christchurch, but it wasn’t a late Saturday evening finish.

Sunday morning, and R was excited to be going to see England play a Test Match (his first) in Christchurch. The bright blue skies buoyed the mood. He went off to watch the cricket whilst I wanted to explore Christchurch, and especially find out more about the devasting earthquake that struck in February 2011. The impact of it was already obvious to see – lots of shiny new buildings around the city, the cathedral still under restoration, and a fair few empty plots of land where I assume buildings once stood. The Quake City Exhibition shone more light on this: 185 people died, over 80% of the central city was either destroyed or needed to be demolished following the quake, and over a third of Christchurch’s houses were affected by liquification of the ground. The impact of it nearly fourteen years later though was some very smart new commercial and residential premises, and a thoughtful public realm, including an understated memorial wall by the Avon river that runs through Christchurch, remembering the names of those who died. Interestingly, as part of the cathedral restoration works, dampeners (similar to those we saw in Wellington’s Parliament buildings) are planned for its foundations. The city is certainly very low rise, with only a few buildings over ten stories or so.

I then moved on to the Botanical Gardens – immaculately laid out (as is common it seems in NZ) , with everything well tendered, watered and trimmed. The rose garden in particular with stunning – seeing it in what is now early Summer here, all the bushes and climbers were in full bloom, and a riot of colour and scent filled the garden. The New Zealand Icon Garden was also looking particularly lush, filled with notable plants of the country including of course the iconic fern.

Walking through the city centre it continued to feel strange to see Christmas trees, snow scenes in shop window displays, and to hear Shakin’ Stevens blasting from shop speakers, when everyone is in shorts and T-shirts. Surely they should be playing Christmas songs about Santa dashing through the surf, or people having frisbee, not snowball, fights on the beach? Children growing up in the southern hemisphere must surely go through a period of confusion when snow is featured everywhere at this time of year. In Chile, as we saw ourselves, festive shopping bags even said ‘Happy Christmas’ in English, and with a festive snow scene. Why?!

Apparently England had done well with their balls, wickets and runs, so with the Test Match now over, and R in a happy mood, we met up again (strange being apart for a few hours for the first time in two months!) to have a drink together, before meandering by the river in the late afternoon sunshine to get back to our hotel.

We are now at Christchurch airport, waiting for our flight to Queenstown (avoiding a six hour drive) and from where we will really start exploring the South Island. Tomorrow we embark on a long coach journey to Milford Sound, and an overnight boat trip in the famous Fiordland, which should hopefully make for some spectacular views, weather permitting.

From North to South

Firstly, apologies to anyone who gets the email version of this: my last post had several typos and grammatical errors which R highlighted to me after I sent it. I will make sure the editor-in-chief clears this post first.

When we left Lake Taupo on Wednesday morning, we headed for the Huka Falls just outside of town. They are lovely waterfalls in their own right, but the walk by the river that feeds them was glorious too – beautiful crystal clear water that you rarely see in rivers, especially not in the UK. We would have liked to walk for longer, but we (or rather Robert) had a lot of driving ahead, so we continued on, stopping briefly at the Waipunga Falls en route. Visible from a look-out point off the road to Napier, these spectacular falls appear out of the forest from nowhere, and cascade down quite a height.

Napier is famed for its art deco buildings that came about as a result of a rebuilding boom following New Zealand’s deadliest earthquake in 1931 which destroyed most of the city. The different pastel colours of the buildings did look lovely in the warm Spring sunshine: it is just a shame that the canopies that protrude over the pavement from most shops here, protecting shoppers from the elements, also hide a lot of the buildings’ facade from view. Dinner in Napier was on a vine-clad terrace, in a winery just out of town, the Mission Estate. We learnt that it was here in 1851 that French missionaries first introduced wine production to New Zealand.

Thursday was ushered in by another beautiful sunrise. The blue skies gave us great views from the top of Te Mata peak later that morning. It had 360 deg views across the surrounding countryside, and only a handful of people were up there when we visited. Today was the longest drive of the trip so far (and thank you R) and we made good progress to Wellington, arriving mid afternoon, and able to check straight in to our Airbnb which was very centrally located. The weather had turned extremely windy, so we didn’t linger for long by the waterside, but instead did a bit of exploring downtown. Unfortunately Wellington is not as well laid out as Auckland, or with as modern buildings. The mix of 60s concrete tower blocks, a mishmash of architectural styles, and ill-thought-out road layouts made me think the city planner must have had a drunk night out in Birmingham, back in the day, and thought that was worth emulating.

Yesterday was culture day. We started with a tour of the Parliament Buildings, where I learnt three important facts: firstly, New Zealand doesn’t have an upper house – any bills are presented to select committees for scrutiny and amendment; secondly, that New Zealand was the first democracy to allow women to vote in 1893; and finally, that the oldest buildings on the site (Parliament House and Library) have a series of shock absorbers in their foundations (put in place in 1992 refurbishment works) to ensure the buildings can withstand earthquakes up to 7.5 on the Richter scale. We got to see some of these on the tour, and also saw how the Library had essentially been cut in half, with a small gap running up the walls and ceiling, to allow movement of the building in an earthquake. The most modern of the three Parliament Buildings, that formerly opened in 1977, and which houses the Prime Minister and the leading party MPs’ offices, is called the Hive – although in reality it looks like a brutalist, inverted concrete fairy cake.

Following a short walk through the botanical gardens, and a trip on the ‘cable car’ down the hill (in reality, a funicular), in the afternoon we visited The Museum of New Zealand (Te Papa Tongarewa) on the waterfront. A few people had recommended it, and we weren’t disappointed. The first exhibit we saw was a very moving, multi-media piece on Gallipoli. Aside from first hand stories and harrowing accounts of the various battles, the exhibit was brought to life by huge (4x size) life-like models of soldiers, nurses and others involved in the front line. The attention to detail on these was incredible – every hair, drop of blood, and bead of sweat on their brows was amazing. Everyone who walked past stopped to appreciate the craftmanship. Somehow having these oversized models next to the descriptions of what happened made the accounts all the more moving.

Other exhibits in the museum included the science behind earthquakes and volcanoes (I didn’t realise that Lake Taupo, where we had recently visited, was a caldera, and is one of the most studied super volcanoes in the world) and a history of immigration to New Zealand. All fascinating stuff.

This morning was an early start to get to the Interislander Ferry port, and check in for our 8.45am ferry to the South Island. No lugging cases on deck here – everything is very efficient: bags are checked in, and we won’t see them again until we get to Christchurch. When we get to Picton we are picking up a scenic train, the Coastal Pacific, for a 6 hour journey down the coast. Hopefully the blue skies we currently have hold out. Crossing the Cook Strait can be a choppy affair, but thankfully the crossing is currently smooth – my experience on boats is mixed to say the least, as Day 12’s entry testifies.

November firsts

Yesterday morning was gloriously sunny, and it inspired R to go for a long run along Whitianga beach. Not the usual start to a late November Monday morning. As we were handing over the keys to the owner of the motel, he recommended we stop off at Hot Water Beach on our drive to Rotorua, so named because of the geothermal activity under the sands. As we duly walked across the sands, hired shovel in hand, we could see a crowd of people either digging holes, or lying in what looked like giant sand castle moats, but which must have contained the hot water the beach was famous for. After digging in at least eight or nine different places (it was trial and error to find the hot water streams near the surface of the sands) we were beginning to think this was a PR stunt by the ‘Hot Water Beach Cafe’, but eventually our efforts paid off, and our shovel struck gold, or rather hot water. Some of the pools were too hot to stand in, and it was a case of alternately stepping into the cold sea water, before plunging the same foot into the hot pools seeping into the freshly dug holes.

It was time for breakfast after all that morning’s activity, so we stopped further along the coast at Tairua for a bite to eat. We have noticed how every town here seems to have very clean and well maintained public toilets: compare and contrast with the UK, where they are either non-existent, or vandalised / covered in graffiti. And not just clean toilets, but well maintained flower beds and grass verges – everywhere is immaculately mown – no ‘re-wilding’ as an excuse for lack of local council budget here. We’ve been following agapanthus coming into bloom in the southern hemisphere as we have been doing our travels: we first noticed them out in Colombia in early October; they bloomed later in the cooler lake district in Chile in early November, and now in late November they are out in force in New Zealand. The yellow gorse that borders the country roads is looking especially colourful in the bright morning sunshine’; the ‘New Zealand Christmas Tree’, Pohutukawa, so called because of its bright red flowers which come into bloom around this time of year, is also looking lovely. It’s so nice to be enjoying late Spring flowers in what is normally a dark and dreary time of year for us.

Next stop a couple of hours down the coast was Mount Maunganui, a beach suburb with an extinct volcano overlooking the beach. It was possible to walk up it, which we duly did in an hour; our bodies hadn’t quite forgotten the training from the Inca Trail. From the summit you could see large acres of forestry, a major industry for New Zealand. There were also large numbers of kiwi and avocado fields in this region – identified by the extremely tall hedges running by the sides of the road, to protect the crops from frost and winds.

They say you smell Rotorua before you see the signs, and we certainly got strong sulphur whiffs coming from the geothermal activity as we approached the town. I remembered reading about this before asking R if he wanted to lower a window in the car. Bubbling sulphurous pools sit between the town and the lake, and are free to walk around, albeit with fences and large signs everywhere warning of the dangers of getting too close to them.

Yesterday morning we went to the Waiotapu Thermal Wonderland, half an hour from Rotorua. The day starts watching the Lady Knox geyser erupt – I thought this was a natural phenomenon, but it has to be kick-started by an employee pouring detergent over the geyser, which causes a plume of water to shoot a few metres in the air for a couple of minutes. You can then walk round the reserve seeing various bubbling pools of water, mud and steaming lakes. Quite a natural spectacle. Back in Rotorua, and a nature of a different kind, as we went on the Redwoods Tree Walk. As the name would suggest, this is a series of rope walkways and platforms, suspended several metres above the ground, that enables you to walk high up amongst the large forest trees. There were few people around at lunchtime, which made for a very peaceful experience for the two of us.

After reaching Lake Taupo, our next overnight stop, we decided to get up close to the thermal activity of the region, so spent an hour or so at The Wairakei Thermal Terraces nearby. Essentially a series of geothermal outdoor pools, at varying temperatures, bathing in them is supposed to help rejuvenate the body. Not sure if it was the minerals in the water, or just having a hot bath, but our legs certainly felt better for it afterwards.

Our motel for the night was on the waterfront of Lake Taupo. We were planning on going out for a curry that evening but thought given we are in a motel we could order food in rather than sit in a soulless (and badly lit) curry house in the back of town. Yet another first time experience for us: a Tuesday night in November, having dinner sitting in shorts on a balcony, watching the sun set over a lake :)

The forecast for today is good again so we are planning on visiting a couple of waterfalls en-route to Napier, famed for its art deco buildings, and our next stop on our North Island tour.

Nirvana or not?

Despite not getting much sleep on the plane to New Zealand, and being awake since 2am local time, Thursday was remarkably productive. We went food shopping, R went for a short run, and then we took a leisurely walk round the harbour to downtown Auckland. Its compactness means its equivalent City, Docklands and West End are a short walk apart from each other: the big four accountancy firms all having shiny, waterfront glass boxes five minutes’ walk from some very smart apartments. There are worse places to be an accountant. It almost felt Scandinavian, in that the city was very clean, walkable, and with very little graffiti. Certainly on this walk we didn’t see shabby shopfronts, or numerous empty retail units. We continued the reconnoitre with a trip up the famous Sky Tower to get our bearings. From the top we could see how quickly Auckland becomes low rise residential again: the amount of bays, headlands and islands it has translating into lots of waterfront homes that are a short drive from the centre. We were struck by how green the city is too; the volcanic history of the region also became quickly apparent with the many dormant volcanoes that are now hills or islands clearly visible. This looked like a very nice place to live.

After seven weeks in South America we were missing some British comfort food. Finally being able to get some decent sausages in a supermarket again, Thursday’s dinner was homemade Toad In The Hole. We crashed and burned soon after we finished it.

We awoke on Friday morning to beautiful blue skies. Feeling much fresher, we got the 9.20am ferry over to Waiheke Island, which had been recommended by a couple of friends. And what a lovely island it was – we walked around nine miles across it, passing gorgeous bays, quiet beaches, little cafes, and then small vineyards dotted inland. We stopped at one for lunch, admiring the views of the hills opposite. We thought there must be a catch to all this, some kind of dark undercurrent we didn’t know about. Nowhere in the world we had visited before had such consistency of immaculate houses, well-kept gardens, friendly, smiley staff, or such clean roads and beaches. What happened to the disaffected youth with a spray can? The mum screaming at her five feral children? The housewife who didn’t smile at every stranger? Or the neighbour who didn’t paint his clapboard house every year? Are they quietly rounded up and deported to Australia every week? The only unfriendly person I had met so far was a Russian on the ferry over: too much attitude, and collagen, who snarled at me in a thick Russian accent that I had to move seats because my aftershave (I actually wasn’t wearing any) was giving her friend an allergic reaction. She got short shrift from me: we didn’t hear anything from her for the rest of the journey.

We thought we would try a couple of bars on Friday night, seeing as how we were in a new capital city. The choice of gay bar in Auckland is not huge; and our expectations were not great. However, one had the ambience of a student union bar that had not had any investment since the 1980s (and I assume had just been condemned, given the sink hanging off the wall), whilst the other was trying for a Western (cowboy) saloon / Polynesian disco bar / thrift shop-tut look, but with a twist of bad karaoke. Both had few customers. It was definitely rougher round the edges in this part of town (K Road); we weren’t in Waiheke now, Toto. It wasn’t just the jet lag kicking in at 10pm that sent us home early.

Saturday morning was one of our occasional admin/laundry days. Getting that out the way, we went to visit Mount Eden, a large hill a short drive from the city centre that gives great views back over the city and waterfronts. In the afternoon we met up with a couple with whom we share a mutual friend in London, and who had very kindly agreed to show us around some more of Auckland. They drove us to more of the waterfront areas, including where one of them grew up; places we would not have visited without insider knowledge. It was great to see familiar faces again, and the day finished with a delicious Thai meal with them in a neighbourhood restaurant – thank you Colin and Al, if you are reading this, for a lovely afternoon!

This morning was an early start – we had to check out of the Airbnb, but we also needed to pick up a hire car at the airport to start our tour of the North Island. We were driving up to the Coromandel Peninsula, which has some stunning scenery. Driving along the motorway the countryside looked almost British – until we saw several tall palm trees bordering a field, or a volcanic hill with cows grazing on it. After lunch in Coromandel town, we stopped at the Driving Creek Railway. We didn’t know what to expect, but it was the brainchild of a potter from Auckland, Barry Brickell, who settled there. He established a pottery, and needed a means to bring clay down from the hills above for his kiln. He started building a narrow gauge railway in 1975, which grew and grew over the years. It is now nearly 3km long, and winds through bridges and tunnels to a vantage point called the Eyeful (!) Tower, which has superb views over the peninsula. Scattered by the track are some of his, and his fellow potters, pieces. Quite eccentric, but very quaint. The pottery still remains to this day, and budding potters can attend courses there.

From there it was about another hour to Whitianga on the northeastern part of the peninsula, and our overnight stop. There is a beautiful long stretch of beach opposite our motel, which had barely a soul on it at 6pm. Like Waiheke, we keep thinking where are the boarded-up shops, the fast food vans, or the hordes of visitors that would be in every British seaside town on a sunny day in late Spring. We wonder, but to be clear, we certainly don’t miss them.

Farewell to South America

I’ve been a bit tardy keeping up with the blog, as we have had a busy few days in Santiago, so be prepared for a bumper edition.

Arriving in a proper, albeit new, city again on Friday evening felt strangely familiar, after spending so much time in desert, lakes and mountains. We knew the area our hotel was in – Lastarria – was convenient for nightlife, but we didn’t realise it was slap bang in the middle of Santiago’s ‘Shoreditch’, with a great selection of trendy cafes, bars and restaurants right on our doorstep.

We also didn’t realise it was Santiago Pride the following day, until we accidentally stumbled upon it on Google. The next afternoon we made our way to the square where the march was gathering, but they had already set off down one of Santiago’s main avenues, Alameda. Full marks for effort, but the parade was reminiscent of a provincial Pride in the UK, rather than one befitting a capital city. It could also have done with more marshalls to keep the parade on track, as just when we thought it had finished, another crowd of marchers appeared round the corner. Keep up, dears. Once the parade had passed, we continued with our sightseeing, but as we continued further down Alameda avenue later in the afternoon, we could hear a thumping bass line coming from a square nearby – the advertising forgot to mention there would be a stage with DJs. We couldn’t not check it out. It was touch and go though as to whether this was Gay Pride, or a goth gathering, judging by the number of men and women at the event wearing head-to-toe black, with stacked boots and heavy eyeliner. About a third of the crowd was probably made up of street vendors who had capitalized on the event, and who had set up makeshift stalls, trestle tables, or even just thrown a table cloth on the ground, selling everything from home-made cocktails, cold beers out of their cool box, Pride merchandise, and even, in one instance it seemed, the contents of their knicker drawer. Unlike a London Pride, you didn’t have to queue for half an hour in a pub to get a round of drinks, or try and find an elusive chilled six pack in a Soho convenience store: Dolly brought her trolley to you: the beers were cold, and less than £2 each. As I don’t drink beer, I had to seek out the entrepreneuers who were selling cocktails from their cool boxes or shopping trolleys. Some enterprising third year university students (as I got to find out) were selling Mopicos (Mojito/Pisco blends), and another guy, Piscolas, out of his makeshift cool box. I did think at the time these drinks might haunt me again in the early hours, but thankfully the spirits they were selling must have been genuine(ish).

As the evening wore on, we got chatting to some locals. Up until the curfew at 9pm, the police presence had been discreet. Once the music stopped though, everyone dispersed from the square, and no-one seemed in any mood to continue the party. Clearly people didn’t mess with the police here. A kind couple insisted they dropped us off at our hotel in their Uber, as they didn’t want tourists getting the Metro at that time (9.30pm on a Saturday?). We expected the gay bars to be heaving that night, but were surprised they were fairly quiet. The area of Bellavista, whilst having several gay bars and clubs, was quite low key, and no people were filling the streets, as you would expect during a UK Pride event.

The relatively early finish on Saturday night suited us, as we had a bus to catch the next morning to Valparaiso, a major port city 90 minutes’ drive from Santiago. Whilst the guidebooks recommend seeing Valparaiso, at least three Chileans had warned us it was quite dangerous (and also smelly). Whether it was because we went on a Sunday morning, it was perfectly safe; the multi-coloured houses perched on the steep hills of the town, reached by funiculars, were very pretty, made even more picturesque by the bright sunshine. Viña del Mar, fifteen minutes down the coast in an  Uber, was heaving with families escaping from the city on its long stretch of sandy beach.

Monday was a full day of wine tasting: the tour we had booked included visits to four vineyards in the Isla de Maipo region, just outside Santiago. The first we visited was novel for the fact it was an eco-farm / vineyard, which meant we got up-close to some chickens and turkeys (the chickens ate any bugs feeding on the vines, negating the need for pesticides; whilst the turkeys warn the chickens of any predatory eagles, looking for a tasty chicken dinner), and we also fed some lambs and horses. Its organic wine, however, definitely had aromas of farmyard manure. The final vineyard we visited was especially nice – a large, well-established estate, Undurraga, with beautiful vineyards and large flower beds full of roses in bloom. We got chatting to some interesting people on the tour, including a retired Sunday Times business journalist, and a retired Australian diplomat. You can imagine the conversation on the minibus flowed better as the afternoon wore on.

Tuesday was our final day of this trip in Santiago, Chile, and South America, so we wanted to make the most of it. We started the day with a ride on the funicular that went up the San Cristόbal Hill. Unfortunately Tuesday seemed to be school trip day, with dozens of school parties up there the same time as us. Given there is a large statue of Our Lady of the Immaculate Conception at the summit looking down on Santiago, no doubt every good Catholic school in the city has to include a visit here as part of the curriculum. We took the cable car back down (for variety) and ended up in a smart part of town, Providencia, with lots of large houses, manicured lawns, and expensive boutiques for the local ladies who lunch. Quite a difference from the rest of Santiago. Stopping for a drink in a shopping centre (weird seeing a huge Dior-sponsored Christmas tree lit up when it was sunny and 28deg), we moved on to the Torre Gran Costanera (the tallest building in South America) and an amazing view having lunch from the 61^st floor. The day finished with more sightseeing downtown (we were getting the steps in, and becoming experts on the Santiago Metro system) before we finished the day with haircuts in a trendy barbers in Lastarria, and a couple of cocktails in a neighbourhood bar.

One of the few criticisms of South America (aside from having to put toilet paper in a bin, which frequently didn’t have a lid) is the bureaucracy, especially at airports. Leaving Santiago Tuesday evening,  we arrived in plenty of time for our 00.40 flight to Auckland, but then spent an hour queuing to be processed by emigration. We were anticipating the worst arriving in Auckland this morning, but despite the onerous declarations we have to fill in (including declaring we had been on a farm in recent days), we thankfully weren’t hauled aside to have our bags picked through. We got to our Airbnb in the dockside / CBD area in no time – enough time for me to update the blog before we go exploring (and no doubt collapse with jet lag tiredness this afternoon).

We have had a superb time in South America- we have seen and done so many different things. Whilst walking the Inca Trail and seeing Machu Pichu is Robert’s favourite experience, for me it is hard to choose between desert or lakes, mountains or beach, cosmopolitan Santiago, or foodie heaven Bogotá. The friendliness of the people, which I have mentioned several times in this blog, the variety of countries, geography and food, and what I have learnt about their different (and shared) cultures and history, will remain with me for a very long time.

Country Life

If the hotel we had stayed in in Chiloé was in Europe, I would definitely recommend friends and family stay there (Hotel y Cava Estancia Rilan). Aside from the great views, design, and attention to detail (fresh flower displays everywhere, and a large scented candle in the bedroom), the service has been very personal and friendly – the husband and wife team who built and interior-designed it respectively introduced themselves to us over dinner. I also got a lick from their dog 😊.

Yesterday we tried to get to the Pacific Ocean from a neighbouring national park, but a large course of water between the dunes and the beach stopped us. The driving rain didn’t help. We certainly got humidity in this part of the world. We stopped for lunch in a restaurant in one of the famous stilted houses on this island, and had a great view of the various birds on the water below. We realised that many of the dogs we have seen on the roads in Chile are not strays, but domestic dogs that like to take themselves for walks, often with one or two canine friends in tow. They are not scared of cars either, so on the drive back to the hotel, we had to be especially careful turning corners or going round blind bends. God forbid if we got in the way of them. 

We spent late afternoon watching the rain clouds come and go from our hilltop bedroom window: it really was quite relaxing. Dinner was another delicious affair – made more entertaining by seeing the owner’s dog take up its position on the restaurant balcony wall, in the rain (Chilean dogs don’t mind the elements) contently surveying all the countryside beneath him, as night fell.

This morning we set off on the drive back north to the mainland, and to Puerto Montt, to get our final internal flight in South America to Santiago. It has been yet another punctual departure – I really thought we would have had at least one flight cancellation or serious delay whilst we were here. I suppose I can look forward to that again when we return to the UK. 

After nearly two weeks of Chilean desert, lakes and rural countryside, we are looking forward to spending a few days in the capital, to enjoy some warmer weather again – and to experience a bit more civilisation. Who knows, we may even stay up beyond 10pm.

“You’re not from round these parts”

Given we had two volcanoes practically on our doorstep in Puerto Varas, we wanted to see if we could go up at least one of them. The drive yesterday morning from our hotel was pretty straightforward, but as we wound our way up Osorno, the cloud cover was becoming increasingly thick. By the time we reached the ski station, and as far as the road took us, visibility was pretty poor. Still, we had come this far, so persevered to see how far we could walk. The ground was either soft ash that crumbled under foot, or patchy frozen ice that was very slippery, especially up the slopes. We ascended about 300m but then the slopes became increasingly steep and icy. With another three months of our trip to go, now was not the time to get a broken ankle. We called it a day and continued driving to the beautiful Saltos del Petrohué waterfalls, which also had a great view of Osorno, the summit of which remained teasingly under cloud cover.

Further along the river to Petrohué itself, the road ran out: clearly a sign to stop for lunch. The nearby 4* hotel looked inviting, but was totally deserted, despite having amazing views of the surrounding forest and lake. The waiter looked surprised when we wanted to order lunch. The menu was limited, and we both decided on a hamburger. Did papas fritas (chips) come with that we enquired. No, he replied, only popcorn. Could you ask the chef if he could do chips with the hamburgers, we asked (not unreasonable, we thought). He came back and replied in English (and R and I agreed afterwards this is what he said): “It would be difficult to do papas fritas, as we are working with them”. So the chef is working with them… and I suppose they were outraged when we suggested having them with our hamburgers? Clearly that was the case, as that old family favourite, hamburgers, with a side of popcorn, was what he served.

After lunch, we decided going for another walk near the beautiful lake that was surrounded by pine tree-clad mountains. What was going to be a 2hr walk ended up being over 3 1/2 hrs, as we extended the route and took advantage of the brighter afternoon weather. We crossed two very wide river beds that had absolutely no water in them – a sign of global warming perhaps? After all that walking, we slept very well last night.

This morning the weather finally cleared and we got a great view of Osorno across the lake from our hotel. We then drove to Chiloé, an island south of Puerto Montt. It is proper rural Chile and, from the stares we were getting from the locals when we arrived off the car ferry, it would be fair to say that they don’t get that many (Chilean) mainlanders, let alone English off- off-islanders. Our first stop for a coffee on the island was in a town called Quemchi. Nearly all the houses on this island are wooden structures, the newer ones no more than wood-clad Portakabins, and most could do with a lick of paint, or three. We found two cafes on the waterfront – one had a workmen drilling in the middle of it, the other was more down-at-heel, with badly hung net curtains. We went for the one with net curtains. The menu board said they did Americano and espresso doble (amongst other hot drinks). We asked for these. The owner nodded in understanding. We then both got identical mugs of instant coffee.

As we continued our journey south down the island the scenery got increasingly better – the road going up and down like a rollercoaster ride, each hill summit giving a better view of an estuary, or of meadows in various shades of green, punctuated with yellow gorse (in bloom everywhere in this region) or livestock. This definitely felt more like rural England – save for the six vultures we spotted, picking over the remains of a run-over cat ☹.

The long drive to our hotel was worth it – set on a hill, overlooking both fields and an island in the middle of an estuary, and unlike the rest of the buildings we had passed, it is ultra modern; very Scandi and hygge: lots of cosy cushions, throws, and sheepskins around the place. R went for a run and confirmed that the shower – with its own window overlooking the landscape – was amazing. We are looking forward to truly feeling like we are getting away from it all here for a couple of days.

Chilly Chile

Considering it is late Spring here, we had an unusually cold and wet day yesterday, with temperatures below what they were in London. The scenery driving further south from Pucόn to Valdivia was deceptively familiar – as if we were in the West Country; except the locals were jabbering in Spanish (or rather, Chilean). We made our way to the fish market when we arrived, and whilst the guidebook told us to expect to see sea lions there, we were not expecting the colossal, morbidly obese (by the looks of it) animals that were all lined up behind the quayside fish stalls, waiting to be fed discarded fish heads. Vultures were their unlikely companions; dozens of them hovered overhead, like a scene from The Birds. The impatient sea lions actually tried to lift up the steel barriers with their noses to get at the fish as it was being cut up to sell. I wondered how many poor fish sellers had been accidentally flattened over the years.

After lunch – a delicious local fish and chips – we headed out of Valdivia to try and get to some of the great beaches we could see from the road. It turned out to be a quite a challenge, due to there being no parking and/or no path down to the beach. Eventually we found a beach we could access: deserted and very wind swept – the verdant cliff tops making it definitely seem much more like Ireland or Wales in November, except we were looking out to the South Pacific, and this was Chile in Spring. We worked out the next nearest land mass due west would be New Zealand, 5,400 miles away, somewhere near Napier (North Island) – where we will actually be in two and a half weeks’ time 😊. We persevered walking on the beach until the driving wind and rain made us retreat to the car. A big pot of hot tea and a couple of scones would have gone down a treat, but then we remembered we were still in Chile. The seaside café we stopped at didn’t even serve coffee: a pisco sour was just wrong.

The drive back to the hotel was made more entertaining by a sea lion deciding to bask itself in the middle of the road heading into town. As we followed the other cars, gingerly driving round it, we could see another group of sea lions had somehow managed to heave their heavy bodies up from the river and onto the nearby quayside. If anyone got too close to take a photo, their deep growls soon sent that person scurrying back.

This morning’s weather was a considerable improvement on yesterday as we set off to our next stop in the lakes, Puerto Varas. We stopped half an hour away from there at Frutillar, recently made famous as the final check point in the last ‘Celebrity Race Round The World’ TV programme, where Scott Mills, Kelly Brooks et al had to get speed boats, to get across the lake to the volcano on the opposite shore. There were in fact two volcanoes rising up in the distance, Orsono and Calbuco, which made the lakeside views even more spectacular. We spotted several German flags in the town, and some businesses with German names, and read that many Germans had settled in this region of Llanquihue in the mid-1800s. It did seem incongruous to see Alpine-style chalets in this part of the world.  Driving round the lake from there to Puerto Varas we had further lovely vistas of the lake and surrounding mountains and volcanoes, with green meadows and grazing cows on the other side of the road. I am not sure many people would immediately associate this image with South America.

The German theme continued when we got to Puerta Varas, with cafes specializing in ‘Kaffe und Kuchen’, which were popular late afternoon. I had to have an apple strudel; and probably the best pot of tea I have had so far in South America. R agreed his mug of hot chocolate was delicious. I am typing this in a lounge of our hotel: the style of décor is wood chalet, and the smell of a burning log fire is pervading the air.

This all seems a million miles from our recent hot, dry desert adventure less than a week ago – and yet we are still in the same country.

Be careful what you wish for

After saying we were looking forward to more humid climes, we weren’t quite banking on torrential rain lasting all night and into this morning. We are staying in an Airbnb mountain lodge for a couple of nights, which has amazing panoramic views over the forests, and snow capped mountains and Villarrica volcano that surround Pucόn. It is in the middle of nowhere though (up a steep and twisting gravel road to get here), and when we arrived, discovered it doesn’t have any locks on the doors, only an electric gate further down the mountain. As the night (and rain) settled in last night, we noticed the owner had an impressive selection of (very large and very sharp) professional Japanese cook’s knives. He also has a leather butcher’s apron hanging in the kitchen, an axe lying outside one of the (unlocked) doors, and an industrial incinerator in one of the outbuildings. If we were going to be murdered in the night, it didn’t stop us doing several loads of washing, so we were up to date with our laundry. I must admit when I awoke in the night due to the sound of heavy rain, in my contact lens-less state, I was trying to work out which shadows were which bits of furniture in the large, open plan space. Fortunately, nothing moved.

Having survived the night, this morning we decided to visit a nearby national park to hike to a lake and waterfalls. It was a gloomy, murky morning (there is a theme here) and we didn’t see another soul en route, but the two hour uphill and muddy trek was worth it to see the spectacular waterfalls and views down towards the forest below. The drive back though was initially through thick, low-lying cloud – it truly was a spooky, foggy landscape. Rather than any more walking or driving, we decided the best course of action was to get a bottle of Malbec from the nearest mini market and settle in for the night with some home-cooked food. The mountain peaks are just peeking through under the clouds as I type this – I’m hoping we have a clearer morning tomorrow for a good sunrise. ‘Wood cabin in the middle of nowhere’ is a another new experience for me, now ‘sleeping on the ground in a tent’ is ticked off the list, hopefully for the first and last time. I’ve also learnt how to use a wood pellet burner: if we had another couple of nights here, these W14 gays could be chopping wood and skinning rabbits.