Pucon

This weekend, we decided to trade the temperate smog of Santiago for the chilly (but much clearer air) of Pucon. Pucon is a small town in the lake region of Chile, featuring its own active volcano and massive lake. We spent all of Friday night on a bus, met up with Mat and Gil in Temuco, then piled onto another bus to Pucon.

The fact that it was low season didn't quite mask how touristy Pucon is. It's small and quaint looking -- little wooden houses, mountains on all sides, with the volcano rising, snow-covered, above the rest. There are summer homes all around the lake, and hostels everywhere. We took over a hostel-cabin, where we meet two backpackers from New Zealand. We used the two extra bodies to wrangle a cheaper fee for the minibus and tourguide to take us up to the volcano. We didn't go all the way to the crater, but we got pretty close. The view was amazing -- the photos will say it better than I can. I actually felt my lungs unshrivel a little bit up there. It was a clear, sunny day -- considering the season and the BC-like climate, we were really lucky not to be rained out.

Half of the group decided to hike around the volcano. Sinmi, Shayne, Christine, Mat and I were not as excited by the idea of plodding around in the snow in sneakers so we set up camp on a patio. When our companions slid down the volcano two hours later, we were napping peacefully in the sun. We went back down to town, where showering and such things ensued. I went for a stroll with Shayne and Sinmi and bought inordinate amounts of fruit at a stall. I couldn't help it...grapes and apples and tangerines and bananas and tomatoes and cucumbers and peppers and avocado...I CRAVED fruit.

We all went out for dinner later, to celebrate Mat's 19th birthday. Food was unremarkable, but we were sitting with Chris, who is possibly the most unintentionally hilarious person ever. I laughed all the way through my oily chicken and fries. On the walk home we gawked at the volcano some more. At night you just see a little red glow floating in the dark, it's pretty cool.

We went back to our cabin for pisco and games. I won (or lost, depending how you look at it) at 'Never Have I Ever', as per usual. There were more rowdy games, including some bizarre songs from the kiwis. Good fun had by all -- except for my tummy, where the cheap wine and bad chicken where having their own party. In the small hours the rest of the gang hit up a discoteca -- I chilled at home with Mat and Gil and watched American tv shows dubbed in Spanish.

The next morning we were up bright and early for our 9:15 bus. These Latin Americans, man, they have this bus travel thing down. We took the 'classico' (read: cheap)bus, and even then, there is an airline-style host who distributes cookies, tucks you in with fuzzy blankies, closes your curtain, and passes by with airfreshner every few hours. The trip was 11 hours, and I slept through almost all of it. All that for about $15. The only odd thing was that they played the same episode of Buffy -- the very first one -- on repeat the entire trip. I saw Buffy being dropped off at school every time I cracked an eyelid.

We were back in Puente Alto in time for tea, which after a weekend without, I kind of missed. All in all, good trip -- short, but the view was worth it.

Tune in next week for loving grade eight in spite of myself and the dirt on the host family.