Arriving in Chile - Valdivia and Pucon

I was excited about returning to Chile, and perhaps a little apprehensive.  The last time I was in the Chilean part of the Lake District it rained for 7 days straight and I didn't really enjoy myself that much.  All I really remember is reading lots of books and eating some pretty amazing soups in Pucon.  So we waited in Bariloche for our bus to Valdivia, which we planned to be an overnight stop on our way to Pucon.  But our plans didn't work out that way.  Our 310km journey should have taken us around 6-7 hours.  Instead, the bus was an hour late (but nobody was told when it would arrive, so we were just hanging around waiting, hoping that we hadn't missed our bus) the Chilean border took an hour longer than anticipated and we arrived at 12.30am, completely exhausted from what was supposed to be a straightforward journey.  Fortunately we called ahead to the hostel so there was someone waiting up for us.

After a good sleep, we went to the bus station to buy our ongoing tickets to Pucon, tickets we couldn't purchase the night before because our bus was so late the offices were closed. During our short walk to the bus station it is clear that Bernard's back isn't that great and he's eager to get to Pucon so he can relax for a few days. But it becomes clear that all the afternoon buses have sold out and the earliest we could leave the town of Valdivia was 5.30pm.  We had the whole day in a place we didn't want to be in. Great. But fortunately the sun was shining and so we head to the river to explore the fish market, try and find a bank to withdraw Chilean pesos (Bank of Chile is the only one that works so far) and go to a lovely cafe recommended by the hostel.  The day went quickly enough and before we know it, we are safely on our way to Pucon.

We arrive in Pucon without a map, and having no idea which way we need to go get to our hostel.  Fortunately Pucon is heaving with tourists in "the season" and it only takes us 15 minutes or so to work it out and another 10 minutes to get there. As well walk to the hostel you can't help but admire the view of Volcan Villarica.  Its beautiful - I didn't get to see it last time - it was covered in clouds.  When we arrive to check-in the lady can't find our names in the book. It takes her a while to work our where we are meant to be. We are taken to the room quite literally above the TV room, and the old nonna checking us in speaks absolutely no English. All I can say is thank goodness we spent 3 weeks doing our Spanish classes. Bernard is frustrated, but after talking to the lady for five minutes, I begin to piece everything together. The owner's mother is checking us in because her son and daughter-in-law are working at the other hostel they own. We email the daughter to check that they have our reservation and that this is the room we are meant to be in (which it is) and we find out that the only other room available in the hostel is an upgrade which we can take if we want. We decide against it.

We head out for dinner at 10.15pm, clearly having adjusted to being in Argentina for 6 weeks. We go past a lovely restaurant (but a little bit expensive) for a cheaper option - get no service at the cheaper place, so return to the first place.  In an instant we are offered a place at the bar, Bernard is ordering a local beer and I'm enjoying a large class of wine.  We are served a delicious meal and walk home at the end of the day contented, stopping for a moment to look at the stars.  I find the Southern cross immediately and smile.