After one relaxing day in Bariloche, Argentina we are on the road, or rather on the bus to Osorno, Chile. Osorno is the first large town outside of Bariloche, west of the Andes Mountains and our first opportunity to rent a car.
The drive through the Lake Region of Argentina and over the mountains is beautiful even if we are sitting next to the bus toilet. The ride is seven hours long, takes us through the Argentinean border exit and the Chilean entrance border. Between the two borders is a long winding bumpy rock road with lots of workers getting it ready for paving. Clearing customs in Argentina involved getting off the bus and having your passport stamped.
The border crossing in Chile was a little bit more complicated. The bus pulled up to an X-ray machine similar to those found at airport security. Each passenger got off the bus one at a time and handed their carry-on luggage to the security person. Your bag is run through the X-ray machine and the bag is handed back to you. I am not quite sure what they are looking for but the main purpose of all this is appeared to be the illegal import of fruits and vegetables. One lady had numerous apples wrapped in individual napkins and each one discovered was quickly thrown in the garbage. After all passengers were off the bus, the driver moved forward until the first luggage compartment was next to the X-ray machine. Then, a large fellow in a lab coat pulled each of the checked bags from the underneath compartments on the bus and ran each bag through the X-ray machine. After every bag had been removed and placed back on the bus, customs officials boarded the bus and searched for anything left on board. The livelihood of Chile is it's fruit and vegetable exports, so they take very seriously any little bugs or small creatures entering their country. The entire bus inspection took about an hour. Then the large guy in the lab coat boarded the bus and each passenger started handing him money. Karen and I looked at each other and we gave each other the confused ‘Now what look'. He was collecting his baggage handling fee and did not move on until each passenger handed him some money. We handed him some Chilean coins, not knowing what the customary tip per bag is for a customs official.
We arrived in Osorno an hour or two later, grabbed our bags and set off to rent a car. Karen had made a list of rental car places and our first stop was Budget. The town of Osorno is a small pleasant town that has nothing to offer tourists. The downtown area was modern with numerous shopping areas, selling the latest modern appliances and it even had two mega supermarkets; the first we had seen in South America. The guidebook listed the Budget office at the same location as the Lan Chile Airline office so we followed our map sweating the entire way until we got to the office. We have been gone for seven weeks and so far have had to do little walking with all of our stuff. It sure is nice to take a taxi for a couple of bucks and be chauffeured to your destination. Karen walked into the office and asked about Budget and the ladies behind the counter all looked at us like, "This is the Lan Chile office". As it turns out Budget has not been in that office for a couple of years and they gave us the new address. We picked up our bags and once again set out for the Budget office.
The Budget office was a small lot that consisted of four cars and three or four people sitting inside. The gentleman we talked to spoke English which made it easy to gather all the necessary details on renting a car. After everything was added up the price came to around $68 a day plus a $140 drop off fee. Since we only had three days left in Chile this made the car price work out to $100 a day. The guy seemed straight forward and honest but the $100 US a day was too much and we wanted to check with a couple of other car rental companies. It was now 1:00 PM and we walked out the front door carrying our backpacks. The thought of walking around town carrying our backpacks was not very appealing so I turned to ask the gentleman at the front door if we could leave our bags inside. It did not take five seconds for us to be out the door and they had already locked up for the 1:00 PM to 3:00 PM siesta. The siesta thing presented a problem because that would mean that all the other rental car places would be closed and we would have to wait until after 3:00 PM. Karen and I made the quick decision to skip trying to find a cheaper price and rent from Budget. I informed the Budget guy of our decision and he said "Great, come back at 3:00 PM." Karen pleaded with him to let us rent the car now and he quickly pointed out to come back at 3:00 PM. Karen was not happy and she had no problem pointing out, "I was so mad I could have spit in his face." They were at least nice enough to open the door so we could leave our bags. We had gotten up at the crack of dawn to take a seven hour bus ride, walked three miles through the city with our 35 lb. backpacks at midday to get to this Budget rental office and he sends us away because it is Lunch time. We wanted to talk to the manager but this guy was the manager. Chile was not being kind to us.
We grabbed some lunch and went through the hassle of trying to get money. None of the bank machines worked and we could not find a bank that would give a cash advance on Visa or Master card. Our next option was cashing American Express Travelers checks. American Express travelers checks are relatively useless in South America. No one will take them and none of the banks will cash them. After our third or fourth bank we finally found someone that told us to go sit over in the corner. Everyone at the banks had been very nice but could not provide us any banking services. We sat on the couch wondering what we were supposed to do next. We did not know if they would cash the Travelers checks or give us a cash advance on a credit card. I really did not blame them for not wanting to hassle with it. We are not customers of the bank and we would never become one. If the bank gives a cash advance on a credit card it is loaning you the money until thirty days later when the bank gets reimbursed by the credit card company. Cashing travelers check is even a more difficult task because the bank has to do all the necessary paperwork and then send it all into American Express before they can get a reimbursement check. I did not blame the banks for one second for not being able to help us. After a few minutes of sitting on the couch, a gentleman came down from upstairs and asked to see our travelers checks. He inspected them to make sure they were valid and then gave his approval to the man behind the counter. A few moments later we walked out with Chilean money in our hands and only an hour to go before siesta was over.
Karen was determined not to give our business to the siesta minded Budget but we discovered that they had the best price in town. We returned to Budget at 3:00 PM and we began to fill out the necessary paperwork. I have rented numerous cars in my business travels and I know it pays to be careful and make sure you review everything on the contract. My problem with the budget contract was that none of the prices had been filled in. He just kept telling us $68 US a day and that included taxes and insurance. Each time I would press him to fill out the information, he would look at me with the "You are the stupidest tourist I have ever met" look. After I got through the anxiety of this he wanted us to fill out a signed blank credit card voucher. When I asked him what this is for he said, "I do not know what the total amount will be until you return the car." I wanted to point out that it is $68 US a day times three days, not too hard to figure out unless you are the stupidest rental car person I ever met. If we had not been so frustrated I would have given him a no thank you and moved on to another rental car company. I accepted the paperwork and we moved outside to do the car inspection. We walked around a small silver four door car from Korea. It only had a couple of scratches and they had already been pre-marked on the inspection form. I was quick to notice that the car did not have any hub caps on what appeared to be four spare tires. This was not marked on the inspection sheet and when I asked him to mark it, he gave me the stupid tourist look again. Five minutes later Karen and I had freedom for the first time in a month. We could go anywhere and do anything at our own leisure.
We now had to get food supplies and we headed for the mega supermarkets. Karen was very excited to grab a shopping cart and begin shopping. We did not make it two feet before we were stopped by a security guard who wanted us to check our backpacks. I gave him a very firm, "No thank you" and we moved on to shop. The mega supermarket concept must be new to this part of the world because they had security guards and video cameras everywhere in an apparent attempt to discourage shoplifting. The security guard must have decided that these Americans are not to be trusted because they followed us around the store waiting for us to stick some food in our bag. We spent the next hour planning our meals for the next three days and looking for a cooler. It turns out that ice chests are not very popular because we could not find one and nobody understood what I was talking about when I asked. I found a bag of ice to illustrate my problem and went through the motions of inserting and removing it from an imaginary box. I performed this activity for two or three supermarket personnel and finally came up with the Spanish word for an ice chest that is "Box." That is what they said. Great they figured out the imaginary thing was a box but I don't think they understood why I needed a box to carry ice. We had already filled the shopping cart with our food for the next three days and an ice chest was critical for our plans. We had to keep the beer cold somehow. I was determined to get an ice chest and left Karen to shop and I sat out for another store. I went to at least three other stores in the area and could not find an ice chest or anyone that even new what one was. My next plan of attack was to find a street vendor selling food and offer to buy their ice chest. As I approached each different food vendor I discovered that they do not have a cooler either. My head fills with thoughts of opening up a store that exclusively sells coolers. I returned to the supermarket and found Karen still having a great time walking around all the things to buy. We got in line at the checkout counter paid for our groceries and decided to continue our quest for a cooler by car. We drove around looking for that unique store that would have a stack of coolers in the back. Karen had me pull the car over because she saw a gift shop that might have a cooler. She returned a few minutes later with our $18 US cooler and our mission continued to a camping store for the purchase of a small compact burner for cooking. We were on the road at 6:00 PM heading south in search of a campground hoping we would find one before it got dark.
We set out for Fruitillar, Chile only 45 minutes south and located on a beautiful lake with a snow covered volcano in the background. We had a couple of wrong turns trying to find the Pan-American highway but after pulling into a gas station we were pointed in the right direction. The Pan-American highway, also known as Route 5, is the only major road traveling north and south in Chile. The road is two lanes and filled with extremely large trucks carrying everything imaginable. This made the driving very interesting because the trucks depending on their age were going either very slow or very fast. Karen would close her eyes each time I pulled into oncoming traffic to pass and I would depress the pedal of my rented Korean sewing machine, hoping that the four spare tires would not come lose. We had no problem finding Fruitillar and based on our guidebook we had chosen a campground and followed the directions listed in the book. According to the book you take the road until it hits the lake and then turn right. You then proceed until the road ends and the campground will be on your right. We followed the directions, turned right at the lake and kept waiting for the road to end. The end of the road never came and we kept getting deeper and deeper into the country on a bumpy gravel road. It was now close to being dark and time to turn back around. We pulled into a driveway and showed the address to a gentleman standing in the road. He looked at the address, paused and basically said you are here. I wasn't sure how that was possible because the name on the sign did not match the name in the guidebook and so far Karen and I had not been this lucky in Chile. Did I mention it was getting dark, so I turned on my blinker and headed for the campground area. It took 30 seconds for Karen and I realized that we had hit pay dirt. The campground had thirty spots surrounded by huge trees. Each camp site was bordered by nicely trimmed hedges and rose bushes in full bloom. Sitting in the back corner of each little piece of paradise was a fire pit, running water and a covered picnic table with electricity. The other surprising thing was that there was only one other set of campers in the campground. We picked the best spot and quickly put up our tent before it got dark. Things had finally started to click in Chile.
As I was setting up the tent, Karen visited our camping neighbors to inquire about firewood. Karen returned with an arm load of logs that were provided free by the campground. This place was the five star hotel version of camping. Dinner cooked on our new compact stove was fantastic and we settled in by the campfire until a sprinkle of rain suggested that we should retire to our tent ending a very long day.
It rained throughout the night and without fail we froze our butts off. We had our air mattress and our fleece sleep sacks but the cold just kept coming. The sleep sacks are rated for 50 degrees Fahrenheit and we had a full complement of clothes on, so we should have been warm. After much fussing and complaining I discovered another useful travel tip. I found that if I covered my head I would warm up quickly. The difficulty became keeping the shirt on your head and still be able to keep your mouth uncovered for breathing. I would fall asleep, only to awake 30 minutes later because I rolled over, the shirt fell off and I was freezing again. Tomorrow I would purchase a ski cap like bank robbers use and solve this sleeping in a tent problem once and for all.
Karen cooked a great egg sandwich breakfast and we packed up our tent for our journey south to Puerto Montt. Our camping neighbors were also packing up their tent so I wandered over to ask them if they needed a ride. I ask them if they spoke English and they replied in a heavy German accent, "Yes." I then posed the question about needing a ride and they returned blank stares and said "Please speak more slowly." I repeated the question and this time they understood the question. They answered "Yes" and then explained they learned British English in school so it is difficult to understand American English. I wanted to point out that half the people I know can't understand half the things I say. I get ahead of myself in thought, so my mouth is still working on a sentence and my brain is already worrying about something else. I call it lazy mouth others call it hard to understand. The couple is from Germany and they have spent six months in South America, visiting Peru, Ecuador and Chile. I could not imagine spending that much time in only three countries but this seemed to be very popular with many of the travelers that we met. The Europeans and the Australians take a year off quite frequently and a favorite destination is South America. The reasons given for such a fondness for South America is that it is cheap and unpredictable. The Germans really enjoy the sense of danger found in South America.
After dropping off the Germans in the next town, we continued to drive south for Puerto Montt. The city of Puerto Montt is the end of the Pan American highway and travel further south is by ferry. It is supposed to be a spectacular trip south through the Chilean fjords. Alas, we are running out of time and our 45 day air pass is going to expire in three days. We did not want to risk exceeding our 45 day time limit. Porto Montt is a fishing town and a very busy port for the rest of Southern Chile. We navigate our way to the fish market and begin a very interesting tour. This was the oddest fish market I had ever been to. The market had Abalone, Sea Cucumbers, Giant Barnacles and some sort of fish/eel looking thing everywhere you looked. As you approached each little booth the proprietor would come towards you shoving some fish in your face. They were relentless as if they had never sold anything before in their life and the mortgage is due tomorrow. After they figured you weren't going to buy any raw fish they would drag you over to a big kettle boiling on a fire. They would open the lid and inside was a variety of fish and sausages boiling away. We would try and convince them that we were not hungry but they would not take no for an answer. Then we started telling them that we were both vegetarians and that produced the desired result. Now they just thought we were weird tourists in a fish market because of our vegetarian status. We moved onto the craft market and found quite a number of things that we wanted to buy. Since we had a car now we could actually make purchases and throw them in the trunk before our plane ride home. Out of all the craft markets in South America this was the best one we came across and we walked away with a wool blanket and numerous wooden animals. I also picked up my robbers ski mask for future tent sleeping. It was getting late and we still had to drive three hours north to the lake country so we packed up and headed out.
The lake district is supposed to be the highlight of Chile so we were both very excited about finding another perfect campground on a pristine lake. The Pan American highway in Chile is through farm country. Each side of the road is bordered by farms, pastures and police. The farm and pasture part are easy to understand but the police thing I could not figure out. At every major turn off on the highway or junction into a neighboring town there would be three or four cops standing in full uniform. They did not have a car or even a radio as far as I could tell. Every once in a while the cop would step out into the road and direct the car or truck to pull over. I was not sure if this was for speeding or just a routine safety check. It couldn't be for speeding because there were no speed limit signs. The only speed limit signs I had seen were for entering a town or a major intersection and it was posted at 80 km/h. I kept my sewing machine around 100 km/h and would get all the way to 120 km/h when passing.
We pulled into our first stop in lake country territory and started to look for a campground. The town Concepcion is small but has a couple of Universities and is surrounded by rivers. Our guidebook takes us on a route through downtown and over a bridge. We see a camping sign straight ahead and we follow it the rest of the way. Turning left into a driveway we end up in a field that is really a large backyard. We roll down the window and ask about camping. The gentleman starts off in rapid Spanish and Karen has that very frustrated look on her face again. I had already decided that I was not going to camp in the backyard. But we wanted to be polite so we ask the man to show us the camping just in case it was down by the river or somewhere else really nice. As I got out the car I was greeted by the family dogs and hurried to catch up with the camping tour. The place even had sheep grazing in the camping zone. You know what sheep do don't you, they dodo little round black pebbles. According to my observations they had visited every square inch of this backyard. I was not going to pitch a tent in sheep droppings. I got Karen back in the car and we keep this place on our last resort list and set off for the tourism office.
We worked our way back across the bridge and found the tourism office by the river. The place seemed very nice with various people rowing crew in the river. We managed to find the tourist lady in the middle of a nasty disease. In between each piece of paper she handed Karen, she would start coughing and I would wait for a lung to exit her body. The lady appeared to be delirious because she kept telling us that there were no campgrounds open after March 15 and referred us back to the field of sheep droppings. She had obviously not read our guide book because she would have read about all the places to camp. No problem I thought we still had a couple of hours of daylight left and we should be able to find a nice place. We went to the grocery store in search of firewood and purchased chicken and beer for tonight's campfire feast. We could not find any firewood so after our third store Karen returned with a bag of charcoal. I asked her if she got any lighter fluid and she said that she asked and they had no idea what she was talking about. I pictured myself sucking gasoline out of the sewing machine tonight.
We headed for a campground near the yacht club listed by the guidebook. After 45 minutes of following the directions not even a hint of a campground or the yacht club listed in the guidebook. I had an idea about what I was going to use to start a fire tonight. We headed back to town and decided we would pick up where we left off. We started following camping signs and some more guidance from the guidebook. We were heading in the right direction because it started to get downright scenic. We were surrounded by calm lakes and rolling mountains. I knew our luck was about to change. Just as a reminder I am writing this particular section after the fact so it has been very difficult for me to compose the Chile story without interjecting an overall opinion. We approached a very nice campground nestled next to a river and it looked like another five star campsite. I drove up to the entrance only to find a rope crossing the driveway and hanging on a stick. The place was empty and we figured we needed to ask someone for permission. Karen headed up the hill to a cabin where she was told that the camping was closed. I have provided enough supporting evidence for me to build my case, Chile sucks after March 15. It is so cruel to have campgrounds everywhere you turn to find them closed. What effort is required that mandates the closing of a campground after March 15. It turns out that Chile has a very defined summer season and it is over March 15 no ifs, ands, or buts about it. We were not ready to give up yet and searched for another hour until we reached the Pacific Ocean. It was getting dark and we found a closed campground overlooking the ocean, took a couple of deep ocean air breaths, finally admitting we had been defeated. We had chicken and beer in the cooler and no place to cook it.
We got on the road and decided to put as much of Chile as possible behind us. We are flying out of Santiago, Chile in two days and still had over eight hours of driving ahead of us. It took over an hour to retrace our path from the Pacific Ocean back to the Pan American highway. Traffic was heavy on the Pan American highway and traveling at night on a two lane highway was hectic. It appeared that 80% of the traffic were large tractor-trailers trying to avoid roadside inspections. The size of the Korean sewing machine that was our mode of transportation did not stand a chance of surviving a collision with one of those big trucks. The plan was to drive four hours and find a hotel for the night something that had absolutely no appeal to me. If I was asked the thing I hate to do the most, my reply would be, "drive more than two hours in a car". I can ride in a car all day I just start to freak out when I have to drive. The act of driving is extremely boring and my anxiety level increases dramatically. I settled in and tried to figure a way to make the time pass. Karen has the driving thing all figured out; it involves putting on the sunglasses and taking a secret nap. This was my first nighttime driving in Chile and I tried to figure out the rules.
As the cars and trucks approached from the opposite direction every other vehicle would flash their lights. At first I thought it was a warning about a speed trap ahead but I never saw any police. This pattern of light flashing continued and I checked to make sure that both headlights were still working. It became very annoying because the oncoming vehicles would flash their lights and then when they got very close they would turn on their high beams blinding me for thirty seconds. I knew there was no possible way they could tell that I was a tourist. It was making it impossible to drive. We approached the first major town and came across a brand new Holiday Inn Express and checked-in for the night. We gave the guy at the front counter our Chicken and he seemed very happy about it. I wondered how many people have given this guy raw chicken before because he did not seem surprised.
March 27
The next morning we tried to salvage our Chile disaster. A review of our guidebook made mention of an undersea coal mine tour that sounded interesting. It added a three hour detour to the ocean but we were desperate for something interesting. We headed west through farm country following the directions provided in the guidebook. The book mentioned that the last tour for the undersea coal mine was at 3:00 PM and we would be cutting it close. We took a quick break for a food and tried to call the number in the guidebook. Every attempt we made at a phone call yielded some prerecorded message is Spanish and we had no idea what it was saying. Chile has lots of natural resources, farming, forestry, and fishing. One thing they do not have is any place to eat. We had been driving for four hours on the only major highway through Chile and we could not find one place to eat. Every once in awhile a roadside stand would appear to be open but no cars or customers to be seen. The occasional modern gas station offered us our only food option.
Chile has lots of natural resources, farming, forestry, and fishing. Our drive through the country side was surrounded numerous factories all processing some sort of Chile natural resource. It was getting close to 3:00 PM and we were still trying to find the coal mine. The beautiful countryside turned into an industrial waste land. The roads were dirty, covered with trash and the air was rancid. Our luck in Chile had not changed but we were determined to find an undersea coal mine. The directions in the guidebook once again were useless and we pulled into a church parking lot for directions. It turned out we had actually gotten very close and we pulled into the park we think. Karen gets out of the car and checks with the person at the park gate. I could see from a distance that Karen could not believe what she was hearing. It was 3:05 PM and I figured we had just missed the last tour. Karen returned to the car and informed me that the coal mine had been closed to tours for almost a year. I had to laugh, it made perfect sense; we were in Chile and we had read about the undersea coal mine in our guidebook. The coal mine had shutdown because the price of oil per barrel was the lowest in a decade and that meant the coal mine was not making any money. The coal company has been owned by the same family for 150 years and they were forced to shut it down turning the town into a vast collection of unemployed mine workers. The family that owns the coal mine however, did keep a botanical park open for the locals and visitors. We were here so we decided to walk around the park and look at flowers.
We paid our park entry fee of $2 US a person and a park hostess asked if we would like a tour. She spoke English, so I tried to politely decline her offer. She told us it was included in the park entrance fee and the park had many stories to tell. She felt it was important for us to go on the tour to truly appreciate the park. I thought to myself that maybe this would work out after all. Did I mention we were still in Chile and our tourist luck still had not changed. We began the tour walking through the front entrance of the park. The area was very well kept with a variety of trees and flowers on display. We approached the first fountain and at the base of the fountain was a large steel statue freshly painted white. Our guide started to tell us about how the statue was a roman god and filled us in on the corresponding Roman mythology. Of course Karen and I had some familiarity with Roman mythology so we listened pretending like this was very interesting. At this point it was nice to see our guide try so hard on her English. Her English was actually very good the best we had encountered in South America and I wondered why she was working in the park. Our tour continued and we strolled pass more park monuments. As we approached each monument our guide would stop and begin her story. It became apparent that we she was unlocking the secrets of the parks. I could not believe our luck; here in a seaside park in the middle of no where someone had the vision to erect a statue of each and every roman god. We had somehow stumbled upon this rare jewel and we had that rare opportunity to learn the fables of Roman mythology. I am glad that the cliffs had a railing because I was tempted to jump.
We did not have the heart to tell her how totally uninteresting this was and she delivered each presentation as it was the most fascinating story that she had ever heard. She was very nice and trying very hard to make this park interesting so that we would tell all of our tourist friends. The park was beautiful and had interesting landscaping but we wanted to see the undersea coal mine and take a picture of the ocean. Yet the tour continued until we entered a cave covered with mirrors and places for candles when our guide informed us that the cave was natural but everything inside was man made. I almost gave her a "No Daaaaa!" We exited the cave at the entrance to a small rectangular pond with a statue on each corner. The guide turned to each corner of the pond and started to tell the stories associated with the gods of summer, spring, winter and fall. I had enough and Karen could tell. We politely informed our host that we only had 15 minutes before we needed to leave and we wanted to see the ocean. We got back in our car and continued north towards the famous Chilean wine country.
We still had six hours of driving to do because of the undersea coal mine detour and we did not get back to the Pan American highway until after dark. I was driving north for five minutes when the oncoming traffic started to flash their lights. I pulled over to check the alignment of my headlights that could be the only answer. I walked around to the front of the car and my problem became very clear. This Korean sewing machine was equipped with the new extra white headlights. I am not sure if you have seen these but they are now required on new vehicles because they provide a brighter white light for visibility. These extra bright lights made it look like I had my brights on and it was pissing off the other drivers so they felt obligated to blind me back. I pulled back onto the highway and would wait for someone to flash and I would flash them back showing what my high beams were truly capable of. This only worked on about 20% of the cars and the rest would show their anger by turning their high beams on making the road ahead disappear. It was really rough when the truckers would deliver their high beams. I couldn't take it anymore and we pulled over in the next town to check into a hotel. I hate Chile.
March 28
Our flight was leaving today from Santiago, Chile at 4:00 PM and we were still four hours away and Karen wanted to go on a winery tour. We got up early continuing our trek north. The lack of restaurants was still perplexing and we had not had breakfast. It was Saturday morning around 8:00 AM and we came across a spot on the highway that had trucks parked everywhere. It appeared that they had all pulled in for a bite to eat. We had seen many roadside buildings along the highway that would have the proper restaurant sign out front but we had not seen one with any customers. I informed Karen that we where stopping because I had to find out what this place was serving. I was expecting to walk in on a topless restaurant. We performed a U-turn and found a small spot between all the big trucks. We sat down for breakfast with a room full of truckers. We asked for a menu but none was available so we ordered eggs. A few minutes later I had an egg sandwich and Karen had some sort of tortilla egg wrap thing. Breakfast was OK but why was this place so packed. The room broke out in laughter and I understood why this place was so popular. When we walked in, there was a large TV at the front of the restaurant showing cartoons and I thought nothing of it. Every trucker in the place had their eyes glued to Saturday morning cartoons. Each cup of coffee approached the trucker's lips without even a momentary glance away from the Spanish version of Tom and Jerry. We paid our check laughing to ourselves that the secret to a successful restaurant in Chile is Saturday morning cartoons.
We abandoned our guidebook and we picked a winery outside of Santiago,Chile based on an advertisement in a local tourist guide. The winery appeared to be about 45 minutes southeast of Santiago and all we had to do was find it. We knew the name of the town and had a simple tourist map but no directions. I was determined to get Karen to a winery so she could touch some grapes on the vine. Karen was navigating and we took an exit that would get us going in the right direction. It shouldn't take us more than thirty minutes and it looked like we would have plenty of time. Before we knew it we had arrived in the worst smog infested slum I had seen. The quality of the air was so bad we had to roll up the windows and our $100 US day car did not have factory installed air. We gave ourselves a drop dead turn around time of 1:00 PM, if we had not found it by then we would head to the airport. It did not look promising because everywhere I looked was concrete, trash and no sign of greenery. We pull over and ask directions to our target town and we would get a rapid fire Spanish response that would involve a right turn here, three blocks, a left turn. We would give a gracious and drive away going what did he say again. We pulled into our destination town at 1:05 PM and it was too late to turn back now even if we did miss our flight. We got final directions from a local and after turning around a couple of times we pulled into a small gate of the winery. We had made it and it was only 1:15 PM. I couldn't believe that this was one of Chile's largest wineries based on its location. In California the wineries are in the rolling hills of the countryside. This winery was in the middle of a smog infested slum. We parked the car and hurried to find a tour. I was growing a little concerned about how long it would take us to get to the airport because we did not even know what airport we needed to go to. I asked Karen our resident expert in Spanish to ask someone how long it would take to get to the airport. She turned and let me have it. I had just made her ask directions to the winery from at least ten different strangers and she was done. She told me to go ask and it was delivered without any sugar. I walked over to the first man I saw and asked him he spoke English. He replied in the mother tongue, "Sure what can I do for you." Karen couldn't believe how lucky I was. The gentleman told us it would take 45 minutes to get to the airport and we could follow him because he was headed that way. I responded that we had just gotten here and wanted to go on a quick tour. "The winery is closed" he replied. I thought Karen was going to cry because at this point we did not hate Chile it hated us. The gentleman was nice enough to ask the guard if we could go in but the last tour started at 1:00 PM and we had missed it by twenty minutes. I did not even want to argue it was time to leave Chile.
We had not actually gotten to the city of Santiago yet but we had been warned that the traffic can get bad. The map showed a belt way around the city and we navigated our way to the proper exit. The belt way turned out to be a two lane curved road with an over abundance of trash on the road side. Traffic was bumper-to-bumper and vendors walked up and down the center of the road selling junk. I was hungry, tired of driving and could not wait to get on a plane. We arrived at the airport and looked for the place to return our car. The Budget guy was expecting us and after we re-packed our bags he drove us to the main drop off point of the airport. We were greeted by a smiling face that I did not recognize at first. Then it dawned on me that this was one of the guys who worked at the Budget office in Osorno. He had taken the bus up this morning and would drive the car back. It was actually kind of nice to see a familiar face who was happy to see us. We checked our bags and were excited about going home for a week to visit with friends and family.
The drive through the Lake Region of Argentina and over the mountains is beautiful even if we are sitting next to the bus toilet. The ride is seven hours long, takes us through the Argentinean border exit and the Chilean entrance border. Between the two borders is a long winding bumpy rock road with lots of workers getting it ready for paving. Clearing customs in Argentina involved getting off the bus and having your passport stamped.
The border crossing in Chile was a little bit more complicated. The bus pulled up to an X-ray machine similar to those found at airport security. Each passenger got off the bus one at a time and handed their carry-on luggage to the security person. Your bag is run through the X-ray machine and the bag is handed back to you. I am not quite sure what they are looking for but the main purpose of all this is appeared to be the illegal import of fruits and vegetables. One lady had numerous apples wrapped in individual napkins and each one discovered was quickly thrown in the garbage. After all passengers were off the bus, the driver moved forward until the first luggage compartment was next to the X-ray machine. Then, a large fellow in a lab coat pulled each of the checked bags from the underneath compartments on the bus and ran each bag through the X-ray machine. After every bag had been removed and placed back on the bus, customs officials boarded the bus and searched for anything left on board. The livelihood of Chile is it's fruit and vegetable exports, so they take very seriously any little bugs or small creatures entering their country. The entire bus inspection took about an hour. Then the large guy in the lab coat boarded the bus and each passenger started handing him money. Karen and I looked at each other and we gave each other the confused ‘Now what look'. He was collecting his baggage handling fee and did not move on until each passenger handed him some money. We handed him some Chilean coins, not knowing what the customary tip per bag is for a customs official.
We arrived in Osorno an hour or two later, grabbed our bags and set off to rent a car. Karen had made a list of rental car places and our first stop was Budget. The town of Osorno is a small pleasant town that has nothing to offer tourists. The downtown area was modern with numerous shopping areas, selling the latest modern appliances and it even had two mega supermarkets; the first we had seen in South America. The guidebook listed the Budget office at the same location as the Lan Chile Airline office so we followed our map sweating the entire way until we got to the office. We have been gone for seven weeks and so far have had to do little walking with all of our stuff. It sure is nice to take a taxi for a couple of bucks and be chauffeured to your destination. Karen walked into the office and asked about Budget and the ladies behind the counter all looked at us like, "This is the Lan Chile office". As it turns out Budget has not been in that office for a couple of years and they gave us the new address. We picked up our bags and once again set out for the Budget office.
The Budget office was a small lot that consisted of four cars and three or four people sitting inside. The gentleman we talked to spoke English which made it easy to gather all the necessary details on renting a car. After everything was added up the price came to around $68 a day plus a $140 drop off fee. Since we only had three days left in Chile this made the car price work out to $100 a day. The guy seemed straight forward and honest but the $100 US a day was too much and we wanted to check with a couple of other car rental companies. It was now 1:00 PM and we walked out the front door carrying our backpacks. The thought of walking around town carrying our backpacks was not very appealing so I turned to ask the gentleman at the front door if we could leave our bags inside. It did not take five seconds for us to be out the door and they had already locked up for the 1:00 PM to 3:00 PM siesta. The siesta thing presented a problem because that would mean that all the other rental car places would be closed and we would have to wait until after 3:00 PM. Karen and I made the quick decision to skip trying to find a cheaper price and rent from Budget. I informed the Budget guy of our decision and he said "Great, come back at 3:00 PM." Karen pleaded with him to let us rent the car now and he quickly pointed out to come back at 3:00 PM. Karen was not happy and she had no problem pointing out, "I was so mad I could have spit in his face." They were at least nice enough to open the door so we could leave our bags. We had gotten up at the crack of dawn to take a seven hour bus ride, walked three miles through the city with our 35 lb. backpacks at midday to get to this Budget rental office and he sends us away because it is Lunch time. We wanted to talk to the manager but this guy was the manager. Chile was not being kind to us.
Karen was determined not to give our business to the siesta minded Budget but we discovered that they had the best price in town. We returned to Budget at 3:00 PM and we began to fill out the necessary paperwork. I have rented numerous cars in my business travels and I know it pays to be careful and make sure you review everything on the contract. My problem with the budget contract was that none of the prices had been filled in. He just kept telling us $68 US a day and that included taxes and insurance. Each time I would press him to fill out the information, he would look at me with the "You are the stupidest tourist I have ever met" look. After I got through the anxiety of this he wanted us to fill out a signed blank credit card voucher. When I asked him what this is for he said, "I do not know what the total amount will be until you return the car." I wanted to point out that it is $68 US a day times three days, not too hard to figure out unless you are the stupidest rental car person I ever met. If we had not been so frustrated I would have given him a no thank you and moved on to another rental car company. I accepted the paperwork and we moved outside to do the car inspection. We walked around a small silver four door car from Korea. It only had a couple of scratches and they had already been pre-marked on the inspection form. I was quick to notice that the car did not have any hub caps on what appeared to be four spare tires. This was not marked on the inspection sheet and when I asked him to mark it, he gave me the stupid tourist look again. Five minutes later Karen and I had freedom for the first time in a month. We could go anywhere and do anything at our own leisure.
We now had to get food supplies and we headed for the mega supermarkets. Karen was very excited to grab a shopping cart and begin shopping. We did not make it two feet before we were stopped by a security guard who wanted us to check our backpacks. I gave him a very firm, "No thank you" and we moved on to shop. The mega supermarket concept must be new to this part of the world because they had security guards and video cameras everywhere in an apparent attempt to discourage shoplifting. The security guard must have decided that these Americans are not to be trusted because they followed us around the store waiting for us to stick some food in our bag. We spent the next hour planning our meals for the next three days and looking for a cooler. It turns out that ice chests are not very popular because we could not find one and nobody understood what I was talking about when I asked. I found a bag of ice to illustrate my problem and went through the motions of inserting and removing it from an imaginary box. I performed this activity for two or three supermarket personnel and finally came up with the Spanish word for an ice chest that is "Box." That is what they said. Great they figured out the imaginary thing was a box but I don't think they understood why I needed a box to carry ice. We had already filled the shopping cart with our food for the next three days and an ice chest was critical for our plans. We had to keep the beer cold somehow. I was determined to get an ice chest and left Karen to shop and I sat out for another store. I went to at least three other stores in the area and could not find an ice chest or anyone that even new what one was. My next plan of attack was to find a street vendor selling food and offer to buy their ice chest. As I approached each different food vendor I discovered that they do not have a cooler either. My head fills with thoughts of opening up a store that exclusively sells coolers. I returned to the supermarket and found Karen still having a great time walking around all the things to buy. We got in line at the checkout counter paid for our groceries and decided to continue our quest for a cooler by car. We drove around looking for that unique store that would have a stack of coolers in the back. Karen had me pull the car over because she saw a gift shop that might have a cooler. She returned a few minutes later with our $18 US cooler and our mission continued to a camping store for the purchase of a small compact burner for cooking. We were on the road at 6:00 PM heading south in search of a campground hoping we would find one before it got dark.
We set out for Fruitillar, Chile only 45 minutes south and located on a beautiful lake with a snow covered volcano in the background. We had a couple of wrong turns trying to find the Pan-American highway but after pulling into a gas station we were pointed in the right direction. The Pan-American highway, also known as Route 5, is the only major road traveling north and south in Chile. The road is two lanes and filled with extremely large trucks carrying everything imaginable. This made the driving very interesting because the trucks depending on their age were going either very slow or very fast. Karen would close her eyes each time I pulled into oncoming traffic to pass and I would depress the pedal of my rented Korean sewing machine, hoping that the four spare tires would not come lose. We had no problem finding Fruitillar and based on our guidebook we had chosen a campground and followed the directions listed in the book. According to the book you take the road until it hits the lake and then turn right. You then proceed until the road ends and the campground will be on your right. We followed the directions, turned right at the lake and kept waiting for the road to end. The end of the road never came and we kept getting deeper and deeper into the country on a bumpy gravel road. It was now close to being dark and time to turn back around. We pulled into a driveway and showed the address to a gentleman standing in the road. He looked at the address, paused and basically said you are here. I wasn't sure how that was possible because the name on the sign did not match the name in the guidebook and so far Karen and I had not been this lucky in Chile. Did I mention it was getting dark, so I turned on my blinker and headed for the campground area. It took 30 seconds for Karen and I realized that we had hit pay dirt. The campground had thirty spots surrounded by huge trees. Each camp site was bordered by nicely trimmed hedges and rose bushes in full bloom. Sitting in the back corner of each little piece of paradise was a fire pit, running water and a covered picnic table with electricity. The other surprising thing was that there was only one other set of campers in the campground. We picked the best spot and quickly put up our tent before it got dark. Things had finally started to click in Chile.
It rained throughout the night and without fail we froze our butts off. We had our air mattress and our fleece sleep sacks but the cold just kept coming. The sleep sacks are rated for 50 degrees Fahrenheit and we had a full complement of clothes on, so we should have been warm. After much fussing and complaining I discovered another useful travel tip. I found that if I covered my head I would warm up quickly. The difficulty became keeping the shirt on your head and still be able to keep your mouth uncovered for breathing. I would fall asleep, only to awake 30 minutes later because I rolled over, the shirt fell off and I was freezing again. Tomorrow I would purchase a ski cap like bank robbers use and solve this sleeping in a tent problem once and for all.
Karen cooked a great egg sandwich breakfast and we packed up our tent for our journey south to Puerto Montt. Our camping neighbors were also packing up their tent so I wandered over to ask them if they needed a ride. I ask them if they spoke English and they replied in a heavy German accent, "Yes." I then posed the question about needing a ride and they returned blank stares and said "Please speak more slowly." I repeated the question and this time they understood the question. They answered "Yes" and then explained they learned British English in school so it is difficult to understand American English. I wanted to point out that half the people I know can't understand half the things I say. I get ahead of myself in thought, so my mouth is still working on a sentence and my brain is already worrying about something else. I call it lazy mouth others call it hard to understand. The couple is from Germany and they have spent six months in South America, visiting Peru, Ecuador and Chile. I could not imagine spending that much time in only three countries but this seemed to be very popular with many of the travelers that we met. The Europeans and the Australians take a year off quite frequently and a favorite destination is South America. The reasons given for such a fondness for South America is that it is cheap and unpredictable. The Germans really enjoy the sense of danger found in South America.
After dropping off the Germans in the next town, we continued to drive south for Puerto Montt. The city of Puerto Montt is the end of the Pan American highway and travel further south is by ferry. It is supposed to be a spectacular trip south through the Chilean fjords. Alas, we are running out of time and our 45 day air pass is going to expire in three days. We did not want to risk exceeding our 45 day time limit. Porto Montt is a fishing town and a very busy port for the rest of Southern Chile. We navigate our way to the fish market and begin a very interesting tour. This was the oddest fish market I had ever been to. The market had Abalone, Sea Cucumbers, Giant Barnacles and some sort of fish/eel looking thing everywhere you looked. As you approached each little booth the proprietor would come towards you shoving some fish in your face. They were relentless as if they had never sold anything before in their life and the mortgage is due tomorrow. After they figured you weren't going to buy any raw fish they would drag you over to a big kettle boiling on a fire. They would open the lid and inside was a variety of fish and sausages boiling away. We would try and convince them that we were not hungry but they would not take no for an answer. Then we started telling them that we were both vegetarians and that produced the desired result. Now they just thought we were weird tourists in a fish market because of our vegetarian status. We moved onto the craft market and found quite a number of things that we wanted to buy. Since we had a car now we could actually make purchases and throw them in the trunk before our plane ride home. Out of all the craft markets in South America this was the best one we came across and we walked away with a wool blanket and numerous wooden animals. I also picked up my robbers ski mask for future tent sleeping. It was getting late and we still had to drive three hours north to the lake country so we packed up and headed out.
The lake district is supposed to be the highlight of Chile so we were both very excited about finding another perfect campground on a pristine lake. The Pan American highway in Chile is through farm country. Each side of the road is bordered by farms, pastures and police. The farm and pasture part are easy to understand but the police thing I could not figure out. At every major turn off on the highway or junction into a neighboring town there would be three or four cops standing in full uniform. They did not have a car or even a radio as far as I could tell. Every once in a while the cop would step out into the road and direct the car or truck to pull over. I was not sure if this was for speeding or just a routine safety check. It couldn't be for speeding because there were no speed limit signs. The only speed limit signs I had seen were for entering a town or a major intersection and it was posted at 80 km/h. I kept my sewing machine around 100 km/h and would get all the way to 120 km/h when passing.
We pulled into our first stop in lake country territory and started to look for a campground. The town Concepcion is small but has a couple of Universities and is surrounded by rivers. Our guidebook takes us on a route through downtown and over a bridge. We see a camping sign straight ahead and we follow it the rest of the way. Turning left into a driveway we end up in a field that is really a large backyard. We roll down the window and ask about camping. The gentleman starts off in rapid Spanish and Karen has that very frustrated look on her face again. I had already decided that I was not going to camp in the backyard. But we wanted to be polite so we ask the man to show us the camping just in case it was down by the river or somewhere else really nice. As I got out the car I was greeted by the family dogs and hurried to catch up with the camping tour. The place even had sheep grazing in the camping zone. You know what sheep do don't you, they dodo little round black pebbles. According to my observations they had visited every square inch of this backyard. I was not going to pitch a tent in sheep droppings. I got Karen back in the car and we keep this place on our last resort list and set off for the tourism office.
We worked our way back across the bridge and found the tourism office by the river. The place seemed very nice with various people rowing crew in the river. We managed to find the tourist lady in the middle of a nasty disease. In between each piece of paper she handed Karen, she would start coughing and I would wait for a lung to exit her body. The lady appeared to be delirious because she kept telling us that there were no campgrounds open after March 15 and referred us back to the field of sheep droppings. She had obviously not read our guide book because she would have read about all the places to camp. No problem I thought we still had a couple of hours of daylight left and we should be able to find a nice place. We went to the grocery store in search of firewood and purchased chicken and beer for tonight's campfire feast. We could not find any firewood so after our third store Karen returned with a bag of charcoal. I asked her if she got any lighter fluid and she said that she asked and they had no idea what she was talking about. I pictured myself sucking gasoline out of the sewing machine tonight.
We headed for a campground near the yacht club listed by the guidebook. After 45 minutes of following the directions not even a hint of a campground or the yacht club listed in the guidebook. I had an idea about what I was going to use to start a fire tonight. We headed back to town and decided we would pick up where we left off. We started following camping signs and some more guidance from the guidebook. We were heading in the right direction because it started to get downright scenic. We were surrounded by calm lakes and rolling mountains. I knew our luck was about to change. Just as a reminder I am writing this particular section after the fact so it has been very difficult for me to compose the Chile story without interjecting an overall opinion. We approached a very nice campground nestled next to a river and it looked like another five star campsite. I drove up to the entrance only to find a rope crossing the driveway and hanging on a stick. The place was empty and we figured we needed to ask someone for permission. Karen headed up the hill to a cabin where she was told that the camping was closed. I have provided enough supporting evidence for me to build my case, Chile sucks after March 15. It is so cruel to have campgrounds everywhere you turn to find them closed. What effort is required that mandates the closing of a campground after March 15. It turns out that Chile has a very defined summer season and it is over March 15 no ifs, ands, or buts about it. We were not ready to give up yet and searched for another hour until we reached the Pacific Ocean. It was getting dark and we found a closed campground overlooking the ocean, took a couple of deep ocean air breaths, finally admitting we had been defeated. We had chicken and beer in the cooler and no place to cook it.
We got on the road and decided to put as much of Chile as possible behind us. We are flying out of Santiago, Chile in two days and still had over eight hours of driving ahead of us. It took over an hour to retrace our path from the Pacific Ocean back to the Pan American highway. Traffic was heavy on the Pan American highway and traveling at night on a two lane highway was hectic. It appeared that 80% of the traffic were large tractor-trailers trying to avoid roadside inspections. The size of the Korean sewing machine that was our mode of transportation did not stand a chance of surviving a collision with one of those big trucks. The plan was to drive four hours and find a hotel for the night something that had absolutely no appeal to me. If I was asked the thing I hate to do the most, my reply would be, "drive more than two hours in a car". I can ride in a car all day I just start to freak out when I have to drive. The act of driving is extremely boring and my anxiety level increases dramatically. I settled in and tried to figure a way to make the time pass. Karen has the driving thing all figured out; it involves putting on the sunglasses and taking a secret nap. This was my first nighttime driving in Chile and I tried to figure out the rules.
As the cars and trucks approached from the opposite direction every other vehicle would flash their lights. At first I thought it was a warning about a speed trap ahead but I never saw any police. This pattern of light flashing continued and I checked to make sure that both headlights were still working. It became very annoying because the oncoming vehicles would flash their lights and then when they got very close they would turn on their high beams blinding me for thirty seconds. I knew there was no possible way they could tell that I was a tourist. It was making it impossible to drive. We approached the first major town and came across a brand new Holiday Inn Express and checked-in for the night. We gave the guy at the front counter our Chicken and he seemed very happy about it. I wondered how many people have given this guy raw chicken before because he did not seem surprised.
March 27
The next morning we tried to salvage our Chile disaster. A review of our guidebook made mention of an undersea coal mine tour that sounded interesting. It added a three hour detour to the ocean but we were desperate for something interesting. We headed west through farm country following the directions provided in the guidebook. The book mentioned that the last tour for the undersea coal mine was at 3:00 PM and we would be cutting it close. We took a quick break for a food and tried to call the number in the guidebook. Every attempt we made at a phone call yielded some prerecorded message is Spanish and we had no idea what it was saying. Chile has lots of natural resources, farming, forestry, and fishing. One thing they do not have is any place to eat. We had been driving for four hours on the only major highway through Chile and we could not find one place to eat. Every once in awhile a roadside stand would appear to be open but no cars or customers to be seen. The occasional modern gas station offered us our only food option.
Chile has lots of natural resources, farming, forestry, and fishing. Our drive through the country side was surrounded numerous factories all processing some sort of Chile natural resource. It was getting close to 3:00 PM and we were still trying to find the coal mine. The beautiful countryside turned into an industrial waste land. The roads were dirty, covered with trash and the air was rancid. Our luck in Chile had not changed but we were determined to find an undersea coal mine. The directions in the guidebook once again were useless and we pulled into a church parking lot for directions. It turned out we had actually gotten very close and we pulled into the park we think. Karen gets out of the car and checks with the person at the park gate. I could see from a distance that Karen could not believe what she was hearing. It was 3:05 PM and I figured we had just missed the last tour. Karen returned to the car and informed me that the coal mine had been closed to tours for almost a year. I had to laugh, it made perfect sense; we were in Chile and we had read about the undersea coal mine in our guidebook. The coal mine had shutdown because the price of oil per barrel was the lowest in a decade and that meant the coal mine was not making any money. The coal company has been owned by the same family for 150 years and they were forced to shut it down turning the town into a vast collection of unemployed mine workers. The family that owns the coal mine however, did keep a botanical park open for the locals and visitors. We were here so we decided to walk around the park and look at flowers.
We paid our park entry fee of $2 US a person and a park hostess asked if we would like a tour. She spoke English, so I tried to politely decline her offer. She told us it was included in the park entrance fee and the park had many stories to tell. She felt it was important for us to go on the tour to truly appreciate the park. I thought to myself that maybe this would work out after all. Did I mention we were still in Chile and our tourist luck still had not changed. We began the tour walking through the front entrance of the park. The area was very well kept with a variety of trees and flowers on display. We approached the first fountain and at the base of the fountain was a large steel statue freshly painted white. Our guide started to tell us about how the statue was a roman god and filled us in on the corresponding Roman mythology. Of course Karen and I had some familiarity with Roman mythology so we listened pretending like this was very interesting. At this point it was nice to see our guide try so hard on her English. Her English was actually very good the best we had encountered in South America and I wondered why she was working in the park. Our tour continued and we strolled pass more park monuments. As we approached each monument our guide would stop and begin her story. It became apparent that we she was unlocking the secrets of the parks. I could not believe our luck; here in a seaside park in the middle of no where someone had the vision to erect a statue of each and every roman god. We had somehow stumbled upon this rare jewel and we had that rare opportunity to learn the fables of Roman mythology. I am glad that the cliffs had a railing because I was tempted to jump.
We did not have the heart to tell her how totally uninteresting this was and she delivered each presentation as it was the most fascinating story that she had ever heard. She was very nice and trying very hard to make this park interesting so that we would tell all of our tourist friends. The park was beautiful and had interesting landscaping but we wanted to see the undersea coal mine and take a picture of the ocean. Yet the tour continued until we entered a cave covered with mirrors and places for candles when our guide informed us that the cave was natural but everything inside was man made. I almost gave her a "No Daaaaa!" We exited the cave at the entrance to a small rectangular pond with a statue on each corner. The guide turned to each corner of the pond and started to tell the stories associated with the gods of summer, spring, winter and fall. I had enough and Karen could tell. We politely informed our host that we only had 15 minutes before we needed to leave and we wanted to see the ocean. We got back in our car and continued north towards the famous Chilean wine country.
We still had six hours of driving to do because of the undersea coal mine detour and we did not get back to the Pan American highway until after dark. I was driving north for five minutes when the oncoming traffic started to flash their lights. I pulled over to check the alignment of my headlights that could be the only answer. I walked around to the front of the car and my problem became very clear. This Korean sewing machine was equipped with the new extra white headlights. I am not sure if you have seen these but they are now required on new vehicles because they provide a brighter white light for visibility. These extra bright lights made it look like I had my brights on and it was pissing off the other drivers so they felt obligated to blind me back. I pulled back onto the highway and would wait for someone to flash and I would flash them back showing what my high beams were truly capable of. This only worked on about 20% of the cars and the rest would show their anger by turning their high beams on making the road ahead disappear. It was really rough when the truckers would deliver their high beams. I couldn't take it anymore and we pulled over in the next town to check into a hotel. I hate Chile.
March 28
Our flight was leaving today from Santiago, Chile at 4:00 PM and we were still four hours away and Karen wanted to go on a winery tour. We got up early continuing our trek north. The lack of restaurants was still perplexing and we had not had breakfast. It was Saturday morning around 8:00 AM and we came across a spot on the highway that had trucks parked everywhere. It appeared that they had all pulled in for a bite to eat. We had seen many roadside buildings along the highway that would have the proper restaurant sign out front but we had not seen one with any customers. I informed Karen that we where stopping because I had to find out what this place was serving. I was expecting to walk in on a topless restaurant. We performed a U-turn and found a small spot between all the big trucks. We sat down for breakfast with a room full of truckers. We asked for a menu but none was available so we ordered eggs. A few minutes later I had an egg sandwich and Karen had some sort of tortilla egg wrap thing. Breakfast was OK but why was this place so packed. The room broke out in laughter and I understood why this place was so popular. When we walked in, there was a large TV at the front of the restaurant showing cartoons and I thought nothing of it. Every trucker in the place had their eyes glued to Saturday morning cartoons. Each cup of coffee approached the trucker's lips without even a momentary glance away from the Spanish version of Tom and Jerry. We paid our check laughing to ourselves that the secret to a successful restaurant in Chile is Saturday morning cartoons.
We abandoned our guidebook and we picked a winery outside of Santiago,Chile based on an advertisement in a local tourist guide. The winery appeared to be about 45 minutes southeast of Santiago and all we had to do was find it. We knew the name of the town and had a simple tourist map but no directions. I was determined to get Karen to a winery so she could touch some grapes on the vine. Karen was navigating and we took an exit that would get us going in the right direction. It shouldn't take us more than thirty minutes and it looked like we would have plenty of time. Before we knew it we had arrived in the worst smog infested slum I had seen. The quality of the air was so bad we had to roll up the windows and our $100 US day car did not have factory installed air. We gave ourselves a drop dead turn around time of 1:00 PM, if we had not found it by then we would head to the airport. It did not look promising because everywhere I looked was concrete, trash and no sign of greenery. We pull over and ask directions to our target town and we would get a rapid fire Spanish response that would involve a right turn here, three blocks, a left turn. We would give a gracious and drive away going what did he say again. We pulled into our destination town at 1:05 PM and it was too late to turn back now even if we did miss our flight. We got final directions from a local and after turning around a couple of times we pulled into a small gate of the winery. We had made it and it was only 1:15 PM. I couldn't believe that this was one of Chile's largest wineries based on its location. In California the wineries are in the rolling hills of the countryside. This winery was in the middle of a smog infested slum. We parked the car and hurried to find a tour. I was growing a little concerned about how long it would take us to get to the airport because we did not even know what airport we needed to go to. I asked Karen our resident expert in Spanish to ask someone how long it would take to get to the airport. She turned and let me have it. I had just made her ask directions to the winery from at least ten different strangers and she was done. She told me to go ask and it was delivered without any sugar. I walked over to the first man I saw and asked him he spoke English. He replied in the mother tongue, "Sure what can I do for you." Karen couldn't believe how lucky I was. The gentleman told us it would take 45 minutes to get to the airport and we could follow him because he was headed that way. I responded that we had just gotten here and wanted to go on a quick tour. "The winery is closed" he replied. I thought Karen was going to cry because at this point we did not hate Chile it hated us. The gentleman was nice enough to ask the guard if we could go in but the last tour started at 1:00 PM and we had missed it by twenty minutes. I did not even want to argue it was time to leave Chile.
We had not actually gotten to the city of Santiago yet but we had been warned that the traffic can get bad. The map showed a belt way around the city and we navigated our way to the proper exit. The belt way turned out to be a two lane curved road with an over abundance of trash on the road side. Traffic was bumper-to-bumper and vendors walked up and down the center of the road selling junk. I was hungry, tired of driving and could not wait to get on a plane. We arrived at the airport and looked for the place to return our car. The Budget guy was expecting us and after we re-packed our bags he drove us to the main drop off point of the airport. We were greeted by a smiling face that I did not recognize at first. Then it dawned on me that this was one of the guys who worked at the Budget office in Osorno. He had taken the bus up this morning and would drive the car back. It was actually kind of nice to see a familiar face who was happy to see us. We checked our bags and were excited about going home for a week to visit with friends and family.