Chile ChicoChile Chico

Published on October 19, 2019 ⋅ 4min read

Claws of white cloud stretched over the red stone cliffs, as if tearing away at its crumbling face. The cliffs gave way to rolling hills of beautiful desolation, clad in a carpet of tussock and scrub that stretched beyond the horizon. Guanacos grazed in small herds, their thick fur keeping them warm in the relentless wind. The isolation was equally oppressive and liberating; the barren landscape, an escape from the trappings of modern civilisation, was at the same time a vivid reminder of just how far away we were from succour...

We departed Coyhaique in the afternoon, catching the only bus to Puerto Ibañez at 4pm. There was only one ferry to Chile Chico, leaving at 7pm. The journey to Puerto Ibañez was only about 1.5hr according to Google maps, so we'd arrive in plenty of time... Or so we thought!

The bus was full, but not of passengers for the ferry. No, it was actually full of locals who had been doing their weekly grocery shopping and were heading home. And remember that common practice I previously mentioned? About dropping people off at their door?

Yep, the bus driver did that.

By the time it got to 6:15pm, I was stressing. We had dropped at least a dozen people home and we were still in Villa Cerro Castillo. According to the GPS we were still a good 30 minutes away on gravel roads!

Another couple of people were dropped home and 6:30pm rolled around... We still hadn't left the Villa. At this point I had to resign myself to the fact that we weren't going to make it. We didn't have tickets for the ferry yet. It only ran once per day. There was no ferry the next day. Our plans had been ruined again.

To the driver's credit, he made the 30 minute journey in 25min. On the windy gravel roads, in a minibus, that was actually quite impressive. He stopped right at the boat ramp. Jumping out of the bus, we briskly walked straight onto the ferry, deciding to worry about tickets once we were on the boat! We had just made it in the nick of time.

The ferry crossing was surreal. The water was still as a millpond, the surface a silky mirror, only distorted by the wake of the boat. The engines chugged away, but otherwise it was eerily quiet. All around us, the land was bare. Just rock and snow and a scattering of scrub. Setting out later in evening meant we were also privileged to witness a stunning sunset, as the sun sank behind the mountains. The brilliant blue, cloudless sky gave way to vibrant hues of orange gold, which in turn faded into twilight blue and purple, before finally going dark.

After the serene start, the rest of the voyage was uneventful. We landed in Chile Chico around 9:30pm, walking a short way in the dark to the hotel we had booked.

We rose the next day with the intent of visiting one of two sections of the nearby Jeinemeni National Reserve. We got lucky; we literally crossed the road and found an open "tourist vendor" selling tours to Piedra Clavada and Cueva de las Manos. We also wanted to visit an area with a lagoon, but apparently it was too far away and he didn't offer tours there. Since his tour would depart in 10 minutes (that's how lucky we were!), we decided to do it and worry about the other thing later.

Another bumpy, gravel road journey and an hour later we were at the start of the track.

Once again, we were in the middle of nowhere. It's seems to be a very common feeling in Patagonia. The land all around us was dusty and covered in scrub bushes and tussock grass. On the hillside, a herd of Guanacos grazed. They look similar to a llama with their long necks, their fur a light brown on the back and a cream colour on the belly and legs. When they called out to each other, they sounded somewhere between a sheep and a horse. To be honest, I thought they sounded like some creature out of Star Wars, perhaps a Taunton. There was a sort of alien quality to it.

We were walking a circuit, just under 8km long, which climbed up a valley, onto a ridge line, then back down a different valley and across the fields to the car. Apart from the 5 of us on the trail, there was no sign of civilisation as far as the eye could see. In the distance, a river cut across through the land; on the other side, we had our first glimpse of Argentina.

Piedra Clavada, the stone nail, was a tall stack of rock completely isolated on the hillside. Carved by wind and rain over millenia, it was quite spectacular. I don't know exactly how high it is, but it was many times Dad's height (see if you can spot him in the photo). I know he's not the tallest person, but don't let that give you the wrong impression -- it was tall!

The whole landscape was unlike anything we'd seen so far. That also seemed to be a common theme in our Chilean travels: every place you go, it's different.

The wind was biting cold at the top of the ridge, and while the hike thus far had been hot and sweaty, we had to put our jumpers on to protect ourselves from the chill. We descended a short way from the ridge and came to the Cueva de las Manos, the cave of hands. Inside the cave, which was an archaeological monument, faded paintings of hands, guanacos, and other creatures could be seen on the walls. In yellow, red, and white, thousands of years old, they had been left by the indigenous people who once roamed the land.

After the cave, we continued down Valle Lunar, stopping for photos and eventually reaching the car. Back in Chile Chico by mid afternoon, we set ourselves the task of finding out when the bus to Cochrane next departed (which sounds a lot easier than it was!). We spent most of the remaining afternoon walking up and down the town, asking various people and getting conflicting information. We eventually were given a phone number and told to send a message on WhatsApp, and we discovered the bus left at 4pm the next day. There was no bus the day after, when we were originally planning to leave.

Since the other section of the national park was at least 2 hours drive away, we didn't have time to visit it, so instead we ended up with another uneventful day waiting for the bus at the bus stop -- the third reoccurring theme!