April 11th, 2015
After spending a few days relaxing, writing and not doing much else I decided to do something exciting with my last full day on Chiloe, and thankfully, the weather in one of Chile’s wettest regions cooperated for me, grey skies clearing to a brilliant mosaic of blue and white.
From my comfortable and empty dorm at Dalcahue’s Lanita hostel I climb on a blue bus bound for Castro (800CLP) and hop off a few stops before the station, heading down towards it and encountering some sort of education protest and march, walking along with the young activists for a few blocks before heading back to the municipal bus station and buying a ticket to Cucao, a section of Chiloe National Park about 90 minutes from Castro.
The buses are somewhat infrequent and here is an estimated timetable for April which is shoulder season. 2 companies run buses from Castro to the park both costing about 1,600 CLP each way when buying a round trip ticket.
I grab a delicious pastry something akin to a cranberry muffin in cake form and then board the 12:30 bus to the park. Later than I’d intended but I just narrowly missed the 11 o’clock departure.
Around 2 pm after a scenic and beautiful bus ride I’m climbing out to the main entrance of Chiloe Nation Park – Cucao division. I head in and am called over by the park ranger to pay my 1500 CLP entry fee before continuing for one of two short walks I have planned for the day. For those looking for more lengthy programs the park has plenty to offer, though most require spending a night or two camping in the park, something I’d love to come back and do one day because the landscapes here are stunning.
The first walk takes me through a lovely wet forest, reminiscent of mangrove swamps in some ways, but endlessly more green, soft carpets of moss and ferns cover the wet earth, as twisted brown tree roots protrude up leading to lush undergrowth above that all but blocks out the sun. the entire circuit takes me maybe 40 minutes, less than the hour suggested time line. It’s a pretty walk but not much more.
I take a shortcut before heading back to the main road to get on to the dunes and beach trail. The simpler way is to go back to where the bus lets you off and walk up the road less than 500 meters to the trail entrance on your left. This walk to the Pacific Ocean is somewhat more spectacular.
The trail is mostly sand and you are given two options. You can either head straight to the beach or take the fork to the right to climb up through another fascinating forest to a beautiful look out atop the plant covered dunes. The raging ocean a distant roar in my ears, grass covered plains dotted with horses and cows eventually giving way to mostly white sand, the waves lapping up onto the countless grains: I’m glad I came.
I snap a few photos then hurry down to rejoin the beach trail, eager to get out to the ocean after gazing at it from afar. I don’t know why and it’s only been a matter of weeks, but I’ve found myself missing swimming in the Ocean a lot more than usual.
I hurry out to the beach only to find a minor problem: the edge of the land is alongside a small river channel, out past it is a sprawling sandbar with access to the actual Ocean.
There’s a few other people down there looking out at the ocean, not many, but the five are enough to make me yearn for the perfect isolation of the sandbar. So I load everything into my backpack, hold it up above my head, and wade through the channel on shifting rocks praying I don’t fall and take my laptop, camera and passport down with me.
I make it in time to see three vultures feasting on the bare remains of a sea lion carcass as I hurry up onto the sandbar and peel off my clothes, leaving my stuff safely back from the encroaching tide before rushing into the very chilly water.
The waves wash over me and I’m lost in the blissful embrace of the Pacific. Crisp, cold and clear it washes away fatigue, sweat and all the worries from my mind as I swim around amongst the waves.
Eventually I have to get out of the water feeling leaving my limbs but after snapping a few photos I’m back in for round two, playing the waves.
The tide’s been creeping in and I have to be able to cross the channel to get back in time for the last bus at 5:20 (The last bus of the company I went with the other company seemed to have later buses and the full timetables are available in the Castro Bust Station).
As I walk back I take some photos of a confrontational horse before hurrying along the trail, gorging on delicious blackberries which surround me, before meeting a friendly family from Santiago as I wait for the bus.
Back in Castro I hop out at the main square to take some time to explore Castro. Tomorrow, it’s back to Puerto Montt and heading north so I have to take what little time I can to see Chiloe’s most famous town.
The highlight is undoubtedly the stunning wooden church, one of many famous Jesuit churches in Chiloe. This one is painted bright yellow and purple, which makes me smile thinking of the Vikings. (Let’s hope they have a good year.) I end up wandering into the church and accidentally playing a small apart in a local wedding. Normally I’d have kept the camera closed, but lots of other tourists were in there snapping photos and the wedding party seemed to enjoy it, so I took a few from the back of the church.
The other thing Castro is famous for is it’s Palafitos, houses built on stilts over the ocean. After wandering through floating villages in Burma and Vietnam these are somewhat unimpressive. But here’s some more scenes from this beautiful and colourful city which very much reminds me of the east coast of Canada.
I enjoy my hour or so wandering through it before heading back to Dalcahue and enjoying a relaxing night of writing. Soon I start a two day voyage up to Pucon, a tourist hub south of Santiago with more volcanoes, hiking, waterfalls and a whole bunch of Sushi.
