January 11, 2005

We slept in this morning, Victor to 7:30 and Joyce to 9:00. After breakfast we took a long walk around the property of the hotel which was absolutely beautiful with lovely gardens and a volcanic pebble beach. We then drove to the volcano and about half-way up on a dirt road designed to ruin the suspension of any car, to the base of the ski area. The top of the volcano is cloaked in clouds today, and not in view, although the snow fields on the slopes were easily seen. We then went into the very lovely town of Pucon for lunch.

Although Pucon is a tourist town, it is one in the nicest of ways with many shops and restaurants. A Uruguayan restaurant had been recommended to us, and who would have believed it, but they have a Garbage Plate in the Uruguayan restaurant in Pucon, Chile. With much gesturing and the waiter’s poor English and our non-existent but dictionary-assisted Spanish, we found out that “chivito” is a typical Uruguayan dish and the specialty of the house. We weren’t completely sure what was in it, but I ordered it anyway.

A huge dish! Steak on top of a mound of French fries; on top of the steak is a large slice of local ham, on top of that is a thick slice of melted cheese, on top of that is a fried egg, and on top of that is a thick slice of local bacon. Alongside all of this, on the same large oval plate next to the mountain of French fries and the steak, etc. are creamy potato salad, green salad, avocado pieces, tomato slices, and chunks of heart of palm. I ate a fair amount of it. After walking around the town a bit, back to the hotel for a short siesta, and preparation for fishing.

Now the relating of the trip fishing could be done in a number of ways. Let me just tell the facts. We were picked up at 5 PM by Marco and his young assistant Stephen, in a four-wheel drive truck. The weather had been good all day but was deteriorating, however Marco said the best fishing is in bad weather, and so off we went, east into the Andes. After an hour on dirt roads which deteriorated into almost no roads, which ended and we then traveled over fields with cows and high grass until we reached a small lake, Lago Llancalil, which Marco said had the best fishing for trout as no one else came there. By now it was cold (they estimated lower than 10 degrees Celsius or about 50 degrees Fahrenheit). The wind was picking up. The rain became almost a torrent. We suited up in waders, semi-waterproof jackets and double hats and loaded into a somewhat decrepit rowboat. Joyce and I sat on the rear seat facing astern, and put our flies into the water. Almost immediately I caught two rainbow trout (which we released). After a while, when there were no more bites, Marco changed Joyce’s fly and she then caught another rainbow. All were released. The next two and a half hours we spent in a windy rain (although there were a few breaks in the rain and wind) and caught no more fish. We were cold, damp, and a bit tired of floating around on the lake when the session ended and we warmed up in the car and went back to the hotel for dinner (starting at 10:30 PM when the restaurant was full).

One could put spin on this. It was truly a beautiful spot, and the experience was really special. However, it also could be written as three hours floating around on a small lake in a tiny rowboat in a cold windy rain for the experience of catching three fish. Which also is true.

Attached are three photos—the gardens at the hotel, and two at the lake, one of Joyce and me, one of Marco and Stephen.