We got an overnight bus to Pucon from Valparaiso, and we got in very, very early.
So early in fact that Helen and I were in incredibly bad moods and had a bit of a set-two on the longer than expected walk from the bus station to our hostel. Lord Vader knows what about, the colour Black Jacks turn your tongue probably (midnight blue in my opinion), but by the time we got to our hostel we were in foul moods.
Thus when we had to wait in reception for two and a half hours before anyone even acknowledged our existence, tempers were reasonably frayed. Then the real bad news came when, despite telling them in our email that we would be there at half six in the morning, we were told we couldn't get into our room until one o'clock that afternoon. Fuck sake. Fine. Fucking useless Chilean fuck.
One turned into two, two into four and finally at ten past five in the afternoon we were able to get into our room, lie down and eventually have a shower and wash our balls.
Not happy bunnies, we went outside to lie in the sun for a while and I decided to go for a walk to look for another hostel. That I found, a place called Donde German? (literally Where's German?, so-named because apparently that is the question that German, the boss, constantly overhears being asked in reception) and the next day we moved hostels.
The rest of that day we spent being moody and playing around with the camera, and making the massive mistake of trying to get a hot chocolate in a rich man's town. I think we literally spent thirty quid on a shot of warm galaxy. 'Twere truly tasty though.
The first thing that should be said about Pucon is that it is home to a great big fuck off volcano. It is the sort of volcano that if you asked a five-year-old to draw a volcano, it would look like that. Generic, but awe inspiring. We planned to walk up it, but in the end money and time got the best of us, and we just gazed upon it from afar.
Our time in Pucon was spent mostly riding mountain bikes around, getting lost, finding some cool waterfalls and then being so hungry that we nearly ate a small dead rodent that I found. This is a mild exaggeration but it was hard work and we were pretty hungry.
The day after our bike ride we met the wonderful couple that were, and as far as I know still are called Al and Cerise. These guys were two Englishpeoples who we spent a whole day with, culminating in eating at a reasonably famous (in the backpacking sense) vegetarian restaurant and then getting quite drunk and playing with two of the most amusing puppies in existence.
Leaving Al and Cerise, we went on our merry way to Bariloche, but first we had to have a miserable stop in Asano, where a first did occur.
We got robbed.
So early in fact that Helen and I were in incredibly bad moods and had a bit of a set-two on the longer than expected walk from the bus station to our hostel. Lord Vader knows what about, the colour Black Jacks turn your tongue probably (midnight blue in my opinion), but by the time we got to our hostel we were in foul moods.
Thus when we had to wait in reception for two and a half hours before anyone even acknowledged our existence, tempers were reasonably frayed. Then the real bad news came when, despite telling them in our email that we would be there at half six in the morning, we were told we couldn't get into our room until one o'clock that afternoon. Fuck sake. Fine. Fucking useless Chilean fuck.
One turned into two, two into four and finally at ten past five in the afternoon we were able to get into our room, lie down and eventually have a shower and wash our balls.
Not happy bunnies, we went outside to lie in the sun for a while and I decided to go for a walk to look for another hostel. That I found, a place called Donde German? (literally Where's German?, so-named because apparently that is the question that German, the boss, constantly overhears being asked in reception) and the next day we moved hostels.
The rest of that day we spent being moody and playing around with the camera, and making the massive mistake of trying to get a hot chocolate in a rich man's town. I think we literally spent thirty quid on a shot of warm galaxy. 'Twere truly tasty though.
The first thing that should be said about Pucon is that it is home to a great big fuck off volcano. It is the sort of volcano that if you asked a five-year-old to draw a volcano, it would look like that. Generic, but awe inspiring. We planned to walk up it, but in the end money and time got the best of us, and we just gazed upon it from afar.
Our time in Pucon was spent mostly riding mountain bikes around, getting lost, finding some cool waterfalls and then being so hungry that we nearly ate a small dead rodent that I found. This is a mild exaggeration but it was hard work and we were pretty hungry.
The day after our bike ride we met the wonderful couple that were, and as far as I know still are called Al and Cerise. These guys were two Englishpeoples who we spent a whole day with, culminating in eating at a reasonably famous (in the backpacking sense) vegetarian restaurant and then getting quite drunk and playing with two of the most amusing puppies in existence.
Leaving Al and Cerise, we went on our merry way to Bariloche, but first we had to have a miserable stop in Asano, where a first did occur.
We got robbed.
1 comment:
Verily, those are some mighty mountains.
I was in Orkney t'other day and saw the biggest cliff in the UK (bigger even than Richards). Looking at it made my lower regions go cold and tingly and my mouth dry up...
But fook me - them mountains in them there photos are something else. Like the erect nipples of God Himself.
I see that you spent four hours walking down one of them. Just one of the myriad reasons I've compiled over the last year that have led me to decide that I've been happier experiencing your experiences by reading about them in blog form than I would have been if I'd been experiencing the experience of experiencing them myself.
Oh, and welcome home loves.
xxxx
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