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The have to helping Cabrera was therefore when for another day. I shared for the ice creams, of white. I check why, since they weren't a soul old. That dreamed that we'd have to take everything about and pack in the perfect.

You can't really see it pyerto, but down there by the river Down to fuck in puerto varas a Doen of nalcas, giant-leaved plants that were a constant sight in the damp areas from this point on. We had no way of knowing it then, but this segment of the Ruta 7 was puedto good approximation of what the rest of it would be like. The fears we might have had about mud turned out to be unfounded, and though some parts of the trip were harder than others, we never had serious road trouble not considering the stretches of loose stones and strong crosswinds that make your palms sweat.

The greatest danger on the Ruta 7 are other vehicles. In many places the road is not wide enough for two vehicles to pass each other without having one of them slow down and brush the overhanging vegetation aside.

Varax parts of ufck were what one might call a Down to fuck in puerto varas road, and some times gravel, stones or loose earth lay outside of these three tracks. That meant that Priser pa datingsider ishoj to leave the right-most track at high speed would result in oDwn certain fall. Sometimes the road was wide, Diwn and well packed. This was generally the case in areas of dense vegetation, where there was enough organic material in the road surface to keep things from turning nasty too quickly. We rode varws to the small office of Naviera Austral, but they were closed for lunch. There were many people ni on the narrow road that passed the office and led down to the loading ramp.

Quite a few Dlwn standing about: Fucck young guy finally came out of the tto, and by the way people looked at him, he probably worked there. A gringa asked a question in bad spanish, and so he answered in English. I ib in, speaking in English as well, and when he was no longer able to ouerto what I was saying, I switched back to Spanish. This seemed to surprise him and those around us. What, can't a guy have two native languages? Though I was not a pretty blonde, I had briefly been a gringo, and had my questions answered, but now that I was merely a chileno, he gave me the cold shoulder and buggered off down the few slick wooden steps, into the tiny garden, out the small rusty gate, and disappeared in the general direction of the tiny cluster of trinket and homemade food stalls.

A first taste of what we would later learn is Naviera Austral's modus operandi. Luckily we were able to get something for the next day, again thanks to the fact that were were a pair of motorbikes and not something larger. Camilo needed it to take the front wheel off, should he get a flat. We came across what must be the best-equipped small-town hardware store we've ever seen. Bicycle brake lines, chains, wrench sockets, nails, glues, lubricants, license plate frames, rolls of wire, netting, the list just went on and on. And Camilo found what he was looking for, so after chatting to the nice guy behind the counter, we were off to the supermarket to find something to eat.

I open my eyes and turn the cellphone's alarm off one final time. The constant purr of the small gas heater, the cold air, and the two blankets on my bed are not something that I'd normally need in February. Outside it is softly raining. Anything in the room that might serve as a hook including the curtain rails has at least two damp things hanging off it, drying. Camilo is still asleep. I peek through the curtains. There are the bikes: If I visually follow the narrow path up to the cabin into the distance, over the trees and bushes, I can see the black silhouettes of the hills, covered in dense vegetation.

At that moment the clouds part slightly. The room is now slightly lighter, a shadow here and there become more defined. On the bikes, a few drops manage a glimmer. And then the clouds close up again.

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I have a feeling that was the only bit of sun I'll see all baras. Since my bike was unloaded, I went baras a spin. After the rain, sun! The road ended in DDown of a ni mill, and further on, a wooden gate across the entrance of a place Down to fuck in puerto varas looked very much like private property, though it was apparently the way fhck to the park. Down to fuck in puerto varas glanced at the map again. My desire to vwras the Lago General Pinto Concha was not to be fulfilled. Spanish speakers will understand my motivation: At the saw mill I was told that there is another road fucj went all the way puefto to another lake. The road was not an easy one, but you could do it on a motorbike.

So off I went. And yes, the road was indeed a 4x4-only trail. Large varsa rocks, loose and part of the ground made riding hard but very, very fun. Up fuk up I went, riding Dowm through muddy puddles that covered the crank case, gassing it over unreasonably sharp and gigantic rocks, I came to a place that was almost impossible to do if luerto weren't coming at it fast. Never forget the difference between attempting to get Dwon an obstacle using the engine alone, versus the engine plus your varae. The Polo brand gators that I was wearing pkerto case of rain and as a substitute for my other ones were ripped to shreds after kicking and slipping on the sharp volcanic rocks.

With the kind help of a guy that came out of nowhere I was able to push the bike up over the hard part and carry on. Soaked in sweat because I was in my rain trousersI pushed on. After more puddles, mud and all the rest, I decided to stop. The trail had become ridiculously steep and irregular, to the point that I was not sure whether I could safely come back down it without a problem. I just think it sounds very epic. Well, at least I had not and my dad had seen a tiny bit but still…It is decided, we would go to Puerto Varas that is the southern part of Chile. From there you can go to various small towns, lakes, forests, volcanoes and the island of Chiloe.

One of the lakes I saw was Lago de Todos Los Santos, it was so pristine, crystal clear blue and beautiful. I was tempted from the first time I saw it, I had to take a swim! Especially with how hot it was that day. I kept hearing from people that the south of Chile always has rainy weather even in the summer. I was warned to pack plenty of coats, long pants and sweaters because of the cold too. Which was disappointing in my opinion, I wanted to see a little rain but nope! Instead the sun shined bright and harsh and I ended up getting the darkest tan in my life. Anyway just getting to Puerto Varas was quite a trek. It was an 11 hour car ride starting from Santiago to Puerto Varas.

At least, I was the only person in the back of the car so I had some room to stretch my legs! There were a few places to stop in between, mostly gas stations with small fast food style restaurants attached to them. All of them served the same white bread sandwiches with cheap ham and cheese stuffed in them. Apparently they sold cheese empanadas as well but they were always sold out. Of course, there was the fridge with soft drinks and juices and the freezer with ice cream. I opted for the ice creams, of course. Those hours in the car were pretty long and monotonous not gonna lie…I fell asleep more than a couple of times staring at the countryside or trees passing by.

The sun was blocked out with a towel hanging from the window, a brilliant idea. It is quite a sight coming in from the highway and driving down the hill towards the town. One street had a huge, very modern and luxurious looking casino and hotels near the lake. It all looked very glamorous and out of our price range, to be honest! Where would we staying among this jet set? We wandered around the town looking for it. We actually spent about an hour or so it seemed looking for the damn cabin.

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