Day 14 - Osorno and Puerto Varas.

In the morning I discover that I don’t have to be in Patagonia to risk debilitating injury. My own bathroom is fraught with danger: I slip on the ‘non-slip’ mat in the shower and am now sporting a badly-bruised shin.

Go to check out the three museums across the river from the main part of Valdivia. The Museum of Modern Art is still under renovation, a year on. The history museum showcases the Anwandter family’s contribution to Valdivia – lots of black-and-white photos and 19th century household objects, whereas the other one is dedicated to the naturalist Rudoph Philippi who travelled all over Chile for his research. Big on explanations, and low on exhibits.

The sea lions seem to live on a wooden platform moored near the shore. There are several little ones. The big ones don't look terribly cute close-up; they all seem to have mange and piggy little eyes which peer at me suspiciously.

On the way back a shop display window stops me in my tracks: there are two jars of dog foetuses pickled in formaldehyde. It's not a shop; it's a veterinarian clinic. What a perfectly logical way to entice customers!
Spend time chatting to the lovely staff at my hostel about the earthquake and life in Valdivia. They’re amazed that the UK doesn’t suffer from earthquakes, or tornadoes, or volcanic eruptions. The last bit’s clearly not true. The guy takes me up to the roof terrace, points at the chimneys belching smoke all around us and explains that many people use wood-burning stoves for heating because it’s the cheapest fuel, even though it pollutes the air. Am hugged like an old friend when I leave.

Am heading south. Brief stop in the city of Osorno – an administrative and agricultural centre. The only reason most travellers stop here is because it’s a major bus hub with connections to all parts of Chile, as well as the Argentine Lake District. It wins my coveted ‘most boring city in the Lake District’ title; Temuco’s a close second, but at least it has a vibrant Mapuche presence. Lots of graffiti. It occurs to me that you don’t really see graffiti that reflects political strife or social activism at home. I can’t imagine tag artists in inner city London writing “We’re not terrorists; we’re not criminals; we have the right to a good education.”

Leave my luggage at the bus station and do my rounds. The great thing about Chilean bus stations is that most of them, even the dinky little ones, have luggage storage – something you won’t find at home. Terrorism is not a concern here.

Back on the bus and down to Puerto Varas – a lovely little town on the banks of Lake Llanquihue and one of my favourite places in the Lake District. On a good day, you can see two volcanoes rising up beyond the lake. Today’s not one of those days. It’s getting wetter and colder. I check into my usual downtown haunt – the cheapo Hospedaje Ellenhaus with its warren of little rooms, and then catch a bus to Puerto Montt – the last major city in the Lake District – in order to determine my next course of action. I need to travel the length of the Carretera Austral (Southern Highway), but ever since the Chaitén volcano erupted in 2008, traffic has been diverted via Argentina and there’s only one weekly bus that goes to Futaleufú - the white-water rafting mecca that I need to visit.

At the Puerto Montt bus station, an energetic little man from the tourism booth takes me under his wing. “You’re from England? My sister lives in Middlesborough. Her name is Alajandra; do you know her?” He rapidly rattles down the phone:: “Sergio, where are you? There’s a girl here, and she’s from England! Yes, she wants to go to Futa! Get over here!” Two handshakes later, and I’m sorted. I’m leaving on Friday, which means I have to reschedule my plans to visit the island of Chiloé. I also have to decide whether to fly in and out of Patagonia or whether to bus it one way at least.

Puerto Varas seems oddly subdued out of season. There's a cold mist over the lake and my favourite restaurant – Sirocco – is inexplicably closed. Still, perfectly-cooked steak at “El Mediterraneo” is a good way to finish off the day.