Eating Our Way Northwards

Eating our way northwards…

I should have remembered that travelling with Ben means regular food stops. He is not a man to be fobbed off with a banana for lunch. This had become my usual diet, as the route I was on was not blessed with tempting eateries, or even lay-bys. At one point, in Patagonia, I passed a sign advertising a town with walks, petrol, restaurants, hotels, and shops, and got quite excited, until I saw that it was 662kms up the road!

Having collected him from Bariloche airport, Ben and I set off for Chile, passing first through chi-chi Villa Angosturas. “This looks like a good lunch stop” said my companion, heading - nose first - into a restaurant with a massive parilla (BBQ) that was advertising steak for two, with all the trimmings. The steaks were ENORMOUS, and at least two inches thick - enough for about four people, and we got one each! Much chewing later, we were done, and - once more - being stamped out of Argentina, and back into Chile 

The drive to Cochamo was through a forest that had been devastated by a volcanic eruption, so the trees were dead, and the ground was ash covered. This grey world changed back to green as we descended. Much later, we both spotted what we thought was a strange cloud, that looked like a mountain, only to discover that it was, in fact,  a huge, perfectly conical, volcano

Our roost at Cochamo was a hostel, up a long track, run by a Swiss/Chilean couple. We had it to ourselves, so it was lovely, and the breakfasts majored on home made bread, fresh fruit, etc., which was just as well, as Cochamo was something of a culinary desert. We did a long walk, through a forest, to a beautiful and awe inspiring valley, dominated by towering granite cliffs, for a picnic; fantasising about crusty baguettes, creamy Boursin, peaches, and tarte aux framboises, as we tucked into an apple, a bag of sugary fruit and nuts, and some spicy doritos, which was all the local shop had to offer

Returning to the village, for a little remedial work (a few mighty blows with a sledgehammer) on a wheel rim that had a slight bend, we were persuaded to return to try the local speciality - salmon - cooked, by the mechanic, on his BBQ. The salmon was hiding under a lot of onions, tomatoes, chorizo, and a very pungent local cheese. We ate it under scrutiny, willing a dog to come past to help us out, but - for once - there were none! 

Our next stop took us into Auracaria, which I'd been looking forward to. We walked through forests of Monkey Puzzle trees, of all shapes and sizes, on the slopes of a volcano, that doubled as a ski station!! None of the trees had fallen over, and some looked much older than the one at BH., so perhaps ours won't topple and demolish the house after all?

I have hardly mentioned poor Modestine, or the driving, but this is only because we were following the Pan-American highway, a sort of motorway, but with roadside stalls, cyclists, pedestrians, tractors, and bus stops. It was pretty boring, but unavoidable. We branched off every night, to interesting places, but, in order to progress northwards, it was our sole option. We also began to feel as if we were serving a function as entertainment for other drivers, as the car most likely to be hooted at, and photographed!!

Our last night before Santiago was spent in the vineyards - it had to be done - in a lovely hotel, with a sparkling pool, and a fabulous Italian restaurant a stroll away, through the vines. Carpaccio of salmon, beef, and squid, ravioli with butternut squash, squid ink pasta stuffed with crab - how happy were we? (so happy we went there for lunch AND dinner) 

Santiago was fascinating, and our Airbnb - a recently restored apartment, in an old house, in the very centre - was perfect: linen sheets, statement lighting, concrete floors, original windows, jacaranda trees outside, and all within staggering distance of some seriously good bars and restaurants, to return to after a day of museums and cemeteries (I love a good cemetery, and the one in Santiago is massive and very impressive, with lots of splendid family tombs - but not Pinochet’s!)

Yesterday, we left Modestine in the tender care of Francisco, the “best mechanic in Chile”, as recommended by the president of the Citroneta Club of Santiago, and flew to Easter Island - one of the most remote places in the world, apparently, but - enough already - its supper time, and we need to go and try the seafood

Ben leaves for Colombia, when we get back to Chile on Monday, and I will be stocking up with more bananas, as I set forth for the Atacama Desert, and all points north…..