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My last hair cut was on December 2nd, the day before we left Canada. Considering that I usually get my hair cut every four weeks, it’s about time. I almost don’t recognize myself.
After talking to the lady at the salon I am comfortable having her put the scissors in my hair and tell her to cut it short. It will take a while to grow back, but I am satisfied with the result.
This is our last chance to visit one of the Rukas of the Mapuche Indians. These are small huts used by the natives in the past. Since Ramiro’s father is from Mapuche heritage, I thought it would be nice to see how they lived and see their traditional clothing.
http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Mapuche
Before we leave Purén we visit the old fort on the top of the hill. Most forts we have seen here were built of stone. Although there is evidence of brick walls around the fort this one is made of wood, much like the one at Fort Edmonton.
As soon as we're on the road again, we hear some rattling coming from the bottom of the car. We decide to have it checked out and drive to a garage where we can drive onto one of those bridges so they can look underneath. Luckily Ramiro quickly discovers a rock that ended up in some opening and soon we’re on our way again and enter the coastal mountain range.
I see a sign for Salto Rayen. I suggest we stop to see the waterfall. Not so much for the waterfall itself, because in the south we have seen plenty of those. But I thought it would be a good way to get some exercise.
After we pay the small entrance fee we are told that it is a one kilometer hike. One and a half hour minimum.
A small trail leads us along a stream and after half an hour of crossing unstable, swinging bridges, made of planks, tied together with ropes and hollow trees split into two and placed on large rocks, we must pull ourselves up on the slippery rocks with the help of steel cables, to the first level of the fall. The next level is even more difficult, but we made it this far, we might as well go to the next level.
As we continue west, we discover numerous cabins and a beautiful lake. How come they’re always there when you don’t need them and are not there when you do. It’s just like the police, which, by the way, we never see on the road. And they don’t even have Tim Horton here. I wonder where they hang out for coffee.
The large number of logging trucks on this road, really slows us down, but it does allow us to enjoy the scenery.
As we continue farther north we approach Curanilahue, where Ramiro’s maternal grandmother was born. A giant wooden hand, indicates that if we use our hands, we are able to put bread on the table.
We’re back in familiar territory as we pass Lota and approach Concepcion.
Before we continue to Talcahuano for another family visit, we stop at Nena’s house for a visit and to say goodbye. Nena is just making some apricot jam, which must be stirred for a while. While she is geting some drinks ready I look after the jam.
She is quite disappointed when she hears that we plan on finding a place around Talcahuano and continue north from there. “But we still want to have lunch together with the family before you leave. And aren’t you sleeping here tonight?”
We figure we can do lunch tomorrow, but should move on right after that towards San Antonio. We’ll let her know if we are able to find a place for the night.
Ramiro’s cousin Lily, from the Ortiz side of the family, is the sister of Michael who lives in Holland and the half sister of Patricia who lives in Viña del Mar. She lives on the peninsula north of Concepcion together with her husband Patricio and their two daughters. Especially the two girls are delighted to have their Tio visiting from Canada.
Lily shares a large number of old family photos with Ramiro and has several old documents who belonged to her mother, who was born in Germany. She is curious about the content of the old documents and I am able to help her out a bit with the translation.
After we share a meal together we return to Nena’s house for the night, where Manuel and Aide from Montreal have also returned to.
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