Tuesday 24 January 2012

Fly Fishing Patagonia, Part 5, Osorno

I saw little on the overnight ride. I might as well have been in an endless tunnel. Occasionaly there were lights out in the blackness suggesting life and a large glow when I approached towns. Route 5 south of Santiago was paved but many sections were quite rough.  I kept thinking of my dog in her kennel and if it was bouncing with every bump. If I would have know it was this rough I would have tucked a blanket or foam under the kennel in order to cushion the jolts. I'm sure she was stressed, possibly in a state of shock.

The bus went bumpity bump, bumpity bump, bumpity bump all through the night.

The bus had a big TV screen up front. The sports station on had soccer highlights. I kept hearing excited announcers yell out "Golazo!" which I later found out meant highlight goal or goal of the week. The Golazos' were incredible: unbelievable overhead/bicycle kicks, headers, magical footwork, laser like strikes from great distance, penalty shots improbably stopped by diving goalies. All this occurred in stadiums overloaded with energised fans and all the play by play announced in rapid Spanish. No wonder Soccer is called, "The Beautiful Game."  The station had highlights from all over the Latin Americas.

Bumpity bump, bumpity bump, golazo!, bumpity bump, golazo!... all through the night.

I didn't sleep. I logged the towns passed through: Talca, Chillan, Los Angeles, Temuco. The bus stopped frequently and often for several minutes at a time. During theses stops local women and men, but mostly women, boarded selling snacks, baked goods and other inexpensive items. They walked the aisle with their goods in large display trays at belt level with a wide strap around their neck much like the classic club cigarette girls in the 1920's through the 1940's.

Bumpity bump, bumpity bump, golazo!, bumpity bump... all through the night.

The bus wasn't full but with every stop people got off and others got on. It was well used. It linked the towns along Route 5. It reminded me of how Greyhound buses were popular North America 20 or 30 years ago. I had gone back in time.

Bumpity bump, bumpity bump, golazo!...all through the night.

Then the sunlight travelled the Atlantic. It touched Buenos Aires, then the Pampas, then the eastern face of the Andes. It jumped the mountain peaks and then landed on Chile and me. Morning had come. I had been travelling for about 11 hours. I  arrived in Osorno. Now I would see how my dog faired.

Tuesday 10 January 2012

Fly Fishing Patagonia, Part 4, Santiago

The overnight flight to Buenos Aires, Argentina went well. I kept thinking about my dog in the belly of the plane. After landing I searched for my Santiago connection. From a large window at my gate I remember seeing my dog on the tarmac being transferred to the next flight. Occasionally a member of the ground crew talked to her. She seemed alert. In about another hour or so, after crossing the Andes, we would be in Santiago and she would be free from her cramped travelling home. I was to be met by two of Jim's family members, Juan and Paulita. It all worked out as planned. I landed at Arturo Merino Benitez International airport, named after the founder of the Chilean Air Force and the Chilean National Airline, Lan Chile. Shortly after being greeted by Juan and Paulita I informed them that I needed to get my dog out of her kennel and outside. They understood. Amazingly there was a large grass area in front of the airport which my dog fully enjoyed. She kept rolling on her back and stretching. I gave her a lot of water while chatting with Juan and Paulita. It was early summer in Chile and sunny and warm. It felt good to be outside and in fresh air after many hours of travel. The airport was on the outskirts of the city. I was driven downtown, I think on the Costanera Norte expressway to a high rise condo probably built in the 1960's or 1970's. I would spend a few days there before travelling further south to Patagonia. Juan informed me that pets weren't allowed in the condo but he knew of a good boarding kennel nearby within walking distance.

I knew very little about Chile before arriving and didn't know what to expect. I knew Chile was producing some of the Worlds' best and least expensive wines. I knew the Andes mountains were the spine of this long slender country and that its snow pack was the source of many of the rivers I was about to fish. I knew trout weren't indigenous to Patagonia and that eggs were first planted over 100 years ago, and that they came from England, Germany and the United States. I knew that southern Chile (Patagonia) was a region of wind, water and mountains.

I had read a little about politics and past leaders such as Allende and Pinochet and a Military Coup which occurred in 1973. I knew that shortly after the Coup many people were rounded up and placed in soccer stadiums, interrogated and some tortured. Many disappeared forever. I had read that under the Pinochet dictatorship some undesirables were flown out over the Pacific and thrown out of planes. That knowledge was unnerving even though I was there 25 years later and Chile was a democracy. The movie Missing directed by Costa Gavras and starring Jack Lemmon captures this dark period in Chilean history.

To my surprise Santiago was a modern metropolis and beautiful. The area I stayed in was much more affluent than I had anticipated. It reminded me of Montreal. It had a lot of old architecture blended with new, and Catholic churches. It all felt familiar even though I was at the "bottom of the world". My hosts correctly questioned whether "it was the bottom?" and suggested it just might be the "top"! We went out for Empanadas. I had never eaten them before and they reminded me of Jamaican patties at least in appearance. A day later we went to an outdoor Enrico Iglesias concert. I took my dog on a number of long walks to various parks. I remember crossing Presidente J.F. Kennedy boulevard. I also walked the beautiful green way along the Rio Mapocho which runs through part of downtown. I felt quite comfortable in Santiago and understood why Jim was so fascinated with the country.

Two days later I was standing on the upper deck of a bus station saying good-bye to my hosts. They said they would be visiting the lodge in about a month and therefore we would meet again. It was about 6 pm and although the day had been hot the sun was getting low. I wanted it to cool so my dog would be comfortable during the overnight 11 hour bus trip. The bus was a modern coach. The station was busy and people started gathering around my kennelled dog. They ask many questions. Juan answered and engaged them in conversation. I kept looking at the bus trying to figure out where my dog would be placed. Then my dog was loaded in a section behind the luggage in the bottom of the bus. I was very uncomfortable with this even though the area had some ventilation holes. I was told they had a special pet area. Where she was placed didn't seem "special". Juan assured me Jim had transported his dog this way and it worked out fine. I still didn't like the situation and wanted to make alternative arrangements but I had no idea what my options were. I reluctantly got on the bus thinking my dog might not survive. I felt sick. It was going to be a long night for both of us..