Day 8 - I arrive in Pucon.

By morning, I’m in Araucanía – Chile’s Lake District and one of my favourite places in the world. This was the last part of Chile to be settled by Europeans, since the Mapuche managed to fight off both the Incas and the Spanish, resisting attempts at colonisation until the 19th century. The Mapuche are the largest indigenous group in Chile and while they’ve fared better than most indigenous groups in the Americas, there’s an ongoing battle for the ancestral lands against major corporations and a lot of bitterness involved.

I can see the snow-covered, gently smoking top of the Villarica Volcano way before I reach Pucón. I’m incredibly lucky with the weather; it’s warm and sunny and you can actually see the whole of the volcano for a change. The first time I set foot here, back in 2005, Mike and I arrived to rain and fog, and while we still had a great time soaking in the hot springs, after three days with no volcano sightings, we got fed up with the weather and crossed the mountains to Argentina’s San Martín de Los Andes.

Ah, Pucón! My home away from home! The little town is very touristy because of its amazing location at the foot of the volcano, but to me it feels like a very wholesome place: I love the smell of wood smoke in the evenings, the fresh air after Santiago’s smog, and the fact that it’s such a great base for all sorts of outdoor activities. When I first covered Chile for Rough Guides, I spent many days here – climbing the volcano, white water rafting, hiking, hidrospeeding (like whitewater rafting but without a raft – just you, the rapids and a foam float to hold on to), biking, horse riding…This time I’m on a tighter schedule and budget, so it may have to be largely a fact-finding mission.

I arrive at the Tree House Hostel to a rapturous welcome from my friend Cristian and Kia the husky. Cristian works for Journey Latin America when not running the hostel, and we met through our mutual friend Mike. We catch up, gossip about various friends, I congratulate him on his engagement and am invited to the wedding in Portsmouth this summer. Since the bride has some Scottish ancestry, and Cristian's spent time living in Scotland, he'll be wearing a kilt. Cristian gives me the lowdown on what’s been happening in Pucón over the past year, which new (and good) tour agencies have sprung up, which ones still to avoid (Trancura!). Business has been slow lately, he tells me. "Ever since the earthquake - nothing." Normally, in March and April, the place is still packed with tourists.

Most of my day is spent wandering around and doing map work, as well as checking the bus timetables, since there are several bus companies scattered around town. I get stopped by a woman who says that she’s offered me accommodation three times, whenever I’ve stepped off the bus in Pucón, and that I’ve turned her down every time. I don’t remember that at all; all I remember is that when Mike and I arrived, some guy offered us a room with a ‘cama matrimonial’, having mistaken us for a couple, and Mike told me that the only way he’ll share a double bed with me is if we top and tail…Anyway, I agree to check out this woman’s guesthouse; I like her enthusiasm. I’m reminded then of the power I wield: to put it in the book or not. Two years ago, when I was having coffee with Martin, a Dutch guy who runs one of the tour companies in San Pedro de Atacama, he quoted Spiderman: “With great power comes great responsibility”, meaning that I can make or break a place with a review, and complained about a writer for a rival guidebook who allowed himself to be wined and dined by another company in exchange for a good review.

A Mapuche woman is selling piñones, the nuts of the araucaria pine, outside the supermarket. I always like to try new things, so I buy some. Last time Cristian had me try some cachayuyo – great chunks of dried seaweed which were unpleasantly chewy and crunchy, all at the same time. Piñones are a traditional Mapuche staple and they must’ve had a lot of time on their hands: you need two hours to boil them before the shells start to come off and then peel them – a real chore - before finally sautéing them with some garlic, salt and merkén (smoked chilli powder). The result is pretty tasty – kind of like pine nuts, only far bigger.

I check out several new tour companies, including Elementos, run by an enthusiastic German girl who’s fallen in love with Pucón. Many companies seem to offer the same thing, so I seek out the ones that stand out and in each case have to establish which activities they run themselves and which they outsource to others. I also read the comments book at the tourist office, though I’ve been warned to take it with a pinch of salt: some tour companies send their guides to write glowing reviews of their own company, as if coming from a tourist.

Glad to see that two of my favourite eateries are still here: Trawén, which is the only place I’ve ever eaten Antarctic krill ravioli, and Pizza Cala – with the best thin and crispy pizzas in town, though Chileans don't always put tomato sauce on their pizzas. The first time I got cheesy bread with toppings, I thought they must've made a mistake. Your typical Chilean food tends to be quite bland – meat/fish and two veg – but because Pucón gets so many foreign visitors, there’s a lot more variety.

A good day’s work. Cristian’s off on an overnight hiking/climbing venture, so I spend the evening peacefully typing up the day’s work, as opposed to drinking late into the night. That’ll be on Friday, during the traditional Chilean barbecue.