Chiloé

Not so long ago, as we travelled the world, I consistently had a good two hour block in the morning to catch up things (like this journal) while the other half of Team Roberts peacefully studied the insides of her eyelids. I can’t explain it, but over the past few trips, that time has almost vanished. I don’t think I’m getting up any later, which can only mean one thing. Amazing, but true.

On the positive side, that means on days like today we are out the door and beginning our long drive to Chiloé by 8:00am. But on the negative side, this story gets written in fits and starts, sometimes relying on my aging memory to fill in the gaps. A fair trade off I suppose, as the extra time allows us to cram more things into each day, meaning even if I start forgetting some, no one will be able to tell.

Chiloé is a large island a few miles off the coast that we finally reach by ferry, four hours or so after leaving Valdivia. According to our guide books, being disconnected from the mainland has allowed a distinct culture to develop here, and we definitely can sense a change of atmosphere as we pull into Ancud, one of the larger towns at the northern tip. Perhaps it is because the sun is shining once again, but things just feel lighter and a little less urgent.

One of the main reasons travelers come to the island is the network of churches constructed here by the Jesuits starting in the 1700s. As shipbuilding skills were plentiful at the time (and presumably masonry less so), they were built entirely out of wood. Our first stop in Ancud is one that has been restored and converted into a museum. There aren’t a whole lot of displays written in English, but with all of the exposed beams, we get a sense for how these impressive buildings were put together. They are on the list of World Heritage Sites, and if you’re interested, there is plenty written about them on the Internet at sites like this one.

While in Ancud, finding a place that serves Curanto is also a must. This is a traditional dish of seafood (mostly shellfish) and potatoes cooked by placing the food and hot stones in a pit, then covering the whole thing with wet leaves, grass and dirt. The finished product is piled high and served up with a bowl of soup for dipping. If I don’t weigh 500 pounds when I get off the plane in Seattle it will be miracle.

From Ancud, we head 20 minutes or so further west to a pinguineria. It’s clearly still low season here, as we are able to secure ourselves 2 seats on an otherwise empty boat to the islands where they nest. The wind is blowing and the water is pretty rough, but seeing penguins is on my trusty traveling companion’s bucket list, so a few waves aren’t going to stop her.

There are both Humboldt and Magellanic penguins here, waddling down the hills from their nests to fish, and then back up again with food for their young. Once the nesting season is over, they leave these islands and won’t set foot on dry ground again until they return the following year. We have a LOT of penguin pictures, so if you are looking for any particular pose, I probably have it.

For accommodation, we’ve arranged for a cabin near the water in the town of Castro. It takes a bit of extra effort for Google Maps to get us there, but once we arrive it is extremely peaceful. At least until the Chilean soccer team starts playing. the neighbors are fans, and while we’re thrilled they are excited to see their team win a big game, we still manage to move a few doors further down. With a few logs in the wood stove, we’re good for the night.

I don’t have a good picture of the outside of this place, but there is something similar across the bay. If we had a little more time, I definitely could see myself just relaxing here with a few books, watching the time come in and out. Should you ever find yourself in Chiloé, I can highly recommend it.