Cohaique and Chile Chico

I arrived in Coyhaique and stayed with host Marcelo. Marcelo is a polite guy, recently divorced, going through a change of houses. I was staying in the center of town near the plaza.

Coyhaique is lovely. It’s in a valley surrounded with monumental rocks and snow capped mountains. The food is getting increasingly more expensive as I progress south. Vegetables are expensive and not fresh. I had great pastries here, included a berry moistened chocolate cake and a cream cheese raspberry Danish, both exceptional. It was challenging staying calm while eating them.

The last night, Marcelo invited me to a BBQ at a friend’s house. It was a little difficult to part take in conversation because of the language divide, but the guys were genuine and kind and so that made for  an enjoyable night, despite having to stomach sausages and grilled fatty beef.  

The next day, I hitchhiked south toward Chile Chico. I got picked up by a few times by farmers and local country construction workers. Waiting out in the open to get picked up was enjoyable much of the time. The views were pretty.

I arrived in Ibanez and while waiting to take the evening boat across the lake to Chile Chico, I met Emiliano from Argentina. I enjoyed  meeting Emiliano. He had a sustained interested attention span. He was returning home after having spent a month walking, camping, and fishing through south Chile. The simplicity of his travels (not using the internet or couchsurfing) and the fact that he fished to eat were inspiring.

We parted ways went we hit land at Chile Chico 2 hours later, when I met my host Maria. Maria was enthusiastic and engaged when we met at the port. That was appreciated. We walked to her house, she fed me amazing lentils and quinoa. They were seasoned with thyme, amongst other things, and due to the circumstances of not having had a good hot vegetarian meal since Chiloe, my mouth and stomach were both in a state of great joy.

I met her roommate, Angela, who was also delightful, engaged, and lovely. They are both psychologists. The next day I talked dharma with Angela in the morning, she was sick and so didn’t go to work.

I had a walk around town, went up to the look out point to get a panoramic view of the city and lake, went down to the lake, and stuck my feet in the chilly water. I thought of reflexology and how the whole body is connect with the feet as I stuck my feet in. The shock was felt throughout my body. Its hard to describe, but it was as though some foundational part had been severed. My bottom half felt light and alive afterward. I ran back home.

Later that day , I headed to Antiguos, the Argentinian border town, to look for a more appropriately  equipped sleeping bag. Having had to overcome some discrepancies with my Chilean visa at the border, drops of sweat running down the sides of my inner arm, I arrived in Antiguos and proceeded to try and exchange my dollars on the black market. Actually, its not as exciting it sounds, its simply black because its not done at any official exchange house. You just go into any business and tell them youre selling dollars, find a business that will agree to your rate, check the authenticity of the bills, and youre well on your way to having gained 30% on your exchange.

I wasn’t able to find an affordable bag, but was happy to encounter Emiliano at a shop where I bought some peach wine for that night’s dinner. After a short chat, I headed back to Chile Chico. Maria had some friend’s over. She invited me to watch a movie with them and then go to the lookout point. I declined and instead opted to jump in the lake and start on dinner. The dip inspired joy and energy. My dull headache at the time intensified to some dramatic sharp point of magnificence under the water, which then very shortly after vanished away.

I ran to the supermarket to pick up some ingredients for the lemon pasta I was to prepare for dinner, encountered a Labrador type dog on the way home, gave him an energetic happy patting, and continued on my dash home, looking back to see the dog unmoved from the corner where we encountered.

I made it home, began the pasta, and to my horror discovered the white peach wine I had bought was frizzante! (and cheap sweet tasting). I ran back to the supermarket to buy some more wine and on my way out, was delighted to see the lab waiting for me right outside my door. This combination feeling of horror and delight following each other, I felt came too close together to be coincidental, as I would find happened not irregularly throughout my trip.

The dinner was made, Maria and her friends returned from the lookout point, the wine was appropriate, and the table was set; all was good in the world again.

After dinner and a lovely genuine exchange with my hosts, we went to sleep. That night I had a dream there was an intruder in a space I was occupying and proceeded to shout, identify, halt, and/or otherwise dispel that person from the space. It was dark and I was paralyzed, all but my voice, which I used with great force to compensate for the lack of mobility of the rest of me. At some point I gained mobility and could, by that time, see the intruder exiting the space.

My shouts were heard not only by the intruder in my dream, but by my terrified host, Angelica, who at some point after the intruder was dispelled, proceeded to call out to ask if I was ok. Having apologized I reassured her there was in fact no one in her house that shouldn’t be there.

Some 2 hours later, we had a lovely exchange of emptiness and protector energy over breakfast. I headed out to begin my hitchhike down to Punta Arenas.