Day 3
January 19, 2010
Puerto Montt, Chile
Mile 368
Fields of daisies--in January!!! I was in my glory.
Day three brought us to Puerto Montt, Chile. It is almost the same latitude as Northern NY so fields of daisies would make sense this time of year.
This was our first port and we had collectively decided against paying the exhorbitant fees Norwegian wanted for shore excursions. It was my job, therefore, to negotiate with waiting taxi drivers to take us on a tour that would best encompass what we wanted to see.
There was no dearth of drivers waiting for us. It was our very good fortune to hire the only female driver we´d have on this journey--Leticia. Late 20's, full of fun, easy Spanish to understand, she was the best ambassador that this part of the world could produce.
By now we had connected with Marc and Kirk. It had taken almost 24 hours for us to find each other on the megaship, but we did. They piled into the back seat and Kirk and Glenda hit it off immediately. Kirk is from Saranac, and Glenda taught there for almost 40 years so they had a lot in common.
Puerto Montt was nestled in the foothils of Llanquihur province, and our plan was to loop around the lake tha
t bears the same name. We were in the Lake District of Chile, and we wanted to make the most of a relatively short day. We´d had a glimpse of the snow capped Osorno--the area´s largest, and still active, volcano which glistened white in the morning sun and still held snows from last winter. At 8,278 feets, it´s the most notable volcano in the region. It almost seemed artifical as it loomed so close and huge above the sea and landscape.
Other high Andean mountains stabbed the sky with towering spurs of stone that, even in these daisy-filled summer days, were frosted in white.
Leticia was a charmer. She loved American pop music from the 1980´s and would ask me my opinion of all sorts of artists. She and I just rattled along. She had as many questions about American culture as we did about Chilean.
My job was to sit in the front seat and translate our questions and let her know what we wanted to see. We had a plan, but she ha
d one, too, so we combined the two. We were not disappointed when she brought us to a deep, clear mountain lake at the base of three volcanoes. We would love to have had the time to take a boat ride, possibly to connect via another lake to get to Argentina, but that would have to await another visit.
It was full summer in the famed Lake District. Fields were full of daisies, my favorite flower. (What a treat to be able to enjoy them twice in 2010.) Lupine, also, were in abundance, in hues I´d never seen. Tall and spiky, they splashed hillsides and gardens in reds, magentas and purples.
We were remined of home in June and July. Lake LLanquihue was reminisent of Lake Champlain an
d Lake George. It was a lovely deep blue and sunlight glistened off its surface. Kids were enjoying its beaches and boaters sailed its water. Summer! In January!
This area of Chile had been settled by Germans in the 19th century and many of their traditions lingered. There were chalet styled houses on the lake and small restaurants served German food. Tt was a neat and tidy corner of Chile--much like all the other German settlement towns I´ve seen in North and South America.
We would love to have lingered, take a cruise on the lake, hike its forests, but the Norwegian Sun would wait for no one.
I did pìck a bouquet of daisies. For days they graced our stateroom and reminded me of the beauty of the Lake district, our sun-soaked day in German Chile--a day filled with lush, wild-flower filled pastures, stunning volcanoes and the ever-pleasant Leticia. This was one place we were sorry to leave, the one place we all would have liked to have lingered.
Daisies in January. Life does´t get much beter than this.
January 19, 2010
Puerto Montt, Chile
Mile 368
Fields of daisies--in January!!! I was in my glory.
Day three brought us to Puerto Montt, Chile. It is almost the same latitude as Northern NY so fields of daisies would make sense this time of year.
This was our first port and we had collectively decided against paying the exhorbitant fees Norwegian wanted for shore excursions. It was my job, therefore, to negotiate with waiting taxi drivers to take us on a tour that would best encompass what we wanted to see.
There was no dearth of drivers waiting for us. It was our very good fortune to hire the only female driver we´d have on this journey--Leticia. Late 20's, full of fun, easy Spanish to understand, she was the best ambassador that this part of the world could produce.
By now we had connected with Marc and Kirk. It had taken almost 24 hours for us to find each other on the megaship, but we did. They piled into the back seat and Kirk and Glenda hit it off immediately. Kirk is from Saranac, and Glenda taught there for almost 40 years so they had a lot in common.
Puerto Montt was nestled in the foothils of Llanquihur province, and our plan was to loop around the lake tha
t bears the same name. We were in the Lake District of Chile, and we wanted to make the most of a relatively short day. We´d had a glimpse of the snow capped Osorno--the area´s largest, and still active, volcano which glistened white in the morning sun and still held snows from last winter. At 8,278 feets, it´s the most notable volcano in the region. It almost seemed artifical as it loomed so close and huge above the sea and landscape.Other high Andean mountains stabbed the sky with towering spurs of stone that, even in these daisy-filled summer days, were frosted in white.
Leticia was a charmer. She loved American pop music from the 1980´s and would ask me my opinion of all sorts of artists. She and I just rattled along. She had as many questions about American culture as we did about Chilean.
My job was to sit in the front seat and translate our questions and let her know what we wanted to see. We had a plan, but she ha
d one, too, so we combined the two. We were not disappointed when she brought us to a deep, clear mountain lake at the base of three volcanoes. We would love to have had the time to take a boat ride, possibly to connect via another lake to get to Argentina, but that would have to await another visit.It was full summer in the famed Lake District. Fields were full of daisies, my favorite flower. (What a treat to be able to enjoy them twice in 2010.) Lupine, also, were in abundance, in hues I´d never seen. Tall and spiky, they splashed hillsides and gardens in reds, magentas and purples.
We were remined of home in June and July. Lake LLanquihue was reminisent of Lake Champlain an
d Lake George. It was a lovely deep blue and sunlight glistened off its surface. Kids were enjoying its beaches and boaters sailed its water. Summer! In January!This area of Chile had been settled by Germans in the 19th century and many of their traditions lingered. There were chalet styled houses on the lake and small restaurants served German food. Tt was a neat and tidy corner of Chile--much like all the other German settlement towns I´ve seen in North and South America.
We would love to have lingered, take a cruise on the lake, hike its forests, but the Norwegian Sun would wait for no one.
I did pìck a bouquet of daisies. For days they graced our stateroom and reminded me of the beauty of the Lake district, our sun-soaked day in German Chile--a day filled with lush, wild-flower filled pastures, stunning volcanoes and the ever-pleasant Leticia. This was one place we were sorry to leave, the one place we all would have liked to have lingered.
Daisies in January. Life does´t get much beter than this.
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