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southern comfort
Published in the July-September 2010 issue.
Belinda Jackson takes the long road south from Santiago
to the wild haunts of Patagonia, where she encounters cowboys and spectacular scenery.
“Which do you prefer? Argentina or Chile?” is a common question in South America. Luckily, the countries are so close you can skip between the two – literally, in such places as Puerto Montt, where dotted borderlines are drawn across the region’s serene mountain lakes.
Our late-spring visit to Chile is an exercise in social stamina, not least because Chile shares with Argentina a penchant for late-night dining, even later-night dancing and drinks at dawn. Then they charge up on tea and manjar, a condensed-milk-caramel spread that has your fillings aching at the very thought, and drag themselves in to work before doing it all again that night.
The whistlestop tour we’re taking runs from Santiago and Valparaiso in central Chile down to Puerto Montt before heading south to Patagonia. It’s true: at first glance, Santiago ain’t no Buenos Aires. On any given Santiago afternoon, the staid, sunny streets are so wide that street dogs slumber undisturbed on the pavements. The city’s main sights are a few granite sculptures, the dramatic neo-classical Real Audiencia Palace, now the National Historical Museum, and a large Chilean star monument beloved of such revolutionaries as Che Guevara, who cruised the country in 1952 on a soul-searching motorcycle tour. But the green, peaceful parks are littered with couples pashing furiously and lots of trim men in tight-fitting military outfits, so it’s not completely straight-laced.
At night, law and order take a nap while the rest of the city wakes up and piles into the chi-chi restaurant and art gallery precinct of Providencia or frantic Barrio Bellavista, the maze of nightclubs frequented by the city’s younger set, to start the nightly ceremony of eating, drinking and dancing.
The daytime diet of the humble empanada, a pastry stuffed with either cheese or meat and doused in the spicy tomato sauce pebre, is replaced with Santiago’s elaborate seafood-savvy fare. Mussels, scallops, oysters, anchovies and clams grace the city’s best tables alongside Chile’s personal favourite, sea urchins – orange, roe-like clumps that slide wetly down the back of the throat, not so much an acquired taste as an acquired sensation.
At night, tea – the drink that fuels the nation – is replaced by Chile’s great gift to the world: wine. Happily, not two days later, we’re tootling through the Casablanca Valley, 70 kilometres south of the city, to the chic Casas del Bosque winery to fulfil our mission. Rolling hills of green spring vines pass us by and, by late morning, we are sunk deep into the winery’s large sofas, shafts of sunshine on our hands, holding glasses of cold, pale Sauvignon Blanc and Cabernet Sauvignon. Apparently, the secret to Chile’s great reds is that the grape vines are ruffled gently by gusts of air off the pampas. It seems to work.
From the vineyard, it’s just 45 kilometres to the arty port town of Valparaíso, its historic area listed as a UNESCO World Heritage site to preserve its late-19th-century architecture. The ornate rainbow-coloured buildings spill across the city’s steep hills, interlinked by a maze of antique elevators, some no more than shaky little cabins towed up almost-vertical inclines.
The ancient Ascensor Concepcíon, which dates back to 1883, climbs determinedly up to the promenade of Paseo Gervasoni. Thankfully, the elevator stops almost at the door of the Gran Hotel Gervasoni. Will a medicinal pisco sour still my beating heart? I’m not sure if Chile’s tart, lemony, brandy-based national drink will do the trick but I’m willing to give it a try.
The curvy promenade is lined with little B&Bs and art galleries that look out to the Pacific Ocean. My list of Chilean shopping must-buys is already long (alpaca ponchos, lapis lazuli necklaces, wild trout anything) and a pretty sketch by a local Valparaiso artist is the latest entrant to the list.
After a day trip of eating on terraces overlooking the ocean, it’s time to get our teeth into Chile and head south. Chile’s Lakes District is about 600 kilometres south of Santiago, a hop-skip of a flight from Puerto Montt, which gets an unhealthy slap from the guidebooks (“not on a lake, not tranquil… not scenic”). But let’s not be too hasty: it has a bustling fish market where we snap up sealed packets of locally caught and smoked salmon that make a sensational car snack later in the day. Then we cruise a great strip of handicraft markets where we find warm beanies with ear-flaps in traditional muted browns and blacks, and bulky jumpers. One stallholder sells beautifully crafted handmade sombreros, ponchos and spurs to a loyal band of gauchos, as Chilean cowboys are known.
The town is the last stop on the Ruta Panamericana, a stretch of bitumen of legendary proportions that traverses the length of the Americas from the tip of Alaska down to central Chile. Admittedly, the nearby town of Puerto Varas, which is on a lake – Lago Llanquihue – has better scenery, notably the impressive volcanic Orsono on the opposite shore of the lake which, with its blue skirts and snowy-white cap, looks like a lost Mount Fuji.
If you jumped on an eastern-bound boat, you’d end up in the Argentinian resort town of San Carlos de Bariloche, with the whacking great crags of the Andes all around. Unfortunately, with mountains comes rain. Lots of teeming rain: another feature of the Lakes district, where little houses huddle between sheets of water.
Heading farther south till we can go no farther south in Chile, we get to Punta Arenas, two hours’ drive south of Puerto Montt – and five hours’ drive back up north into Torres del Paine National Park. Why not just drive straight to the national park? I’m having a little moan at the thought of a 6am wake-up call. All is revealed on the flight: a glimpse out the window shows a moving mass of thick, fluffy clouds punctured by sharp granite teeth scraping hungrily at the sky. Well, these would be why we’re not driving…
The national park is curtained off from the rest of Chile by the Cordillera del Paine – the Paine mountain range – crowned by the Torres del Paine. Viewed through the perfect window-frame of my room in Explora’s Hotel Salto Chico, the ‘towers’ are a sight that demands superlatives: striking, beautiful, breathtaking. And then, in one moment, the light changes and what was an alpine blue-sky, white-snow scene is now washed in golden light, the dying sun splattering the peaks an eerie blood-red.
Early the next morning, I am treated to one of my most enduring travel memories, cantering along the edge of a glacial lake with Merko and Cristobal, a gaucho and a Santiago lad who’s doing a good impersonation of a gaucho. The pure air is crisp with snow and our three horses’ hooves drum in time.
But – and it’s a big but – a day on horseback takes its toll. So when I return to the lodge, I put on my swimmers, a big fluffy wrap and slippers, and totter over the wooden planks to the Casa de Baños del Ona, the hotel’s bathhouse, with its indoor pool and outdoor Jacuzzi. I grab a glass of Champagne from the fridge (all self-respecting bathhouses should have one), kick the Jacuzzi over and watch the sun set on the mountains and the lake.
The heavens are on display, a vision of peace and purity. Moved in spirit, I promise to become good; to be nicer; to phone my family more often.
And I promise: I will return. •
Photography by Belinda Jackson.
TRAVEL FACTS
getting there
- LAN Airlines flies from Sydney to Santiago daily via Auckland, with onward connections to Puerto Montt and Punto Arenas. Phone 1800 221 572 or visit www.lan.com
getting around
tips
- At the time of writing, AU$1 = 471 Chilean pesos.
- November to February (summer) is the most popular time to visit Patagonia, though hikers will be rewarded by uncrowded spring and autumn hiking.
further information
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