A DAY TO REMEMBER

Tuesday, January 26, 2010

We back track a little and visit Puerto Montt again. But first we visit the white and red church in Puerto Varas. Other than the fact that it could use a coat of paint, it’s a beautiful church inside and out. At 12:00 o’clock sharp a violin rendition of Ave Maria can be heard all over the neighbourhood, from the loudspeakers on the church square. I think of my Mom who would have loved both, hearing the music and visiting the church.

We’re invite by Archibaldo Doloza and his wife Bernadina who is of Spanish decent. Archibaldo, who is quite a few years older than Ramiro,  was know as Señor Doloza during the time Ramiro worked in Contao. He was the office administrator.  They are both very happy to see Ramiro and have been busy preparing a typical Chilean lucnh for us. I enjoy listening to the many recollections they all have from those days in Contao.
Archibaldo asks Ramiro to let Barney know, how much he respected him and how grateful he and Bernadina are for the kindness and support Barney has shown them during those times. Archie shows Ramiro an entertainment cabinet, the type we had in the sixties with radio and grammophone. I regret not being able to follow the entire conversation, or I would have taken a picture of the unit for Berney. Archie asks Ramiro if he recognizes this unit. Apparently, there we three of these units in the houses of the Americans. When they left, the units ended up with Archie, Carlos Loiza and Hector Lorrain, how all had management position with the company during that time.
Every single one of the people we have met from Contao have been very kind to us, and they have shown a lot of emotions when the many memories are brought up again. It’s difficult for Ramiro to say goodbey again so quickly, but we must move on.

Our preplanned schedule has been changed quite a bit this week and we like to get back on track.
As much as we prefer to take the country roads and enjoy the scenery, we need to catch up on time and decide to take the Autopista 5 north.
It may be a lot faster, but the toll fee adds up and it is rather boring. It feels strange driving on the highway after weeks of gravel and pothole roads.

We’re not very successful in finding a place for the night. The most we get out of Rio Bueno is a quick walk, after checking out the only apparent accommodations with several cabins which are all full, and a room without windows and a shared bathroom, we decide to drive to La Union, 8 kilometers away on the other side of the Autopista. You would expect that in a town of 10,00 people there would be a hotel or something. Along the road there are signs directing us into the country to cabins. But nothing is available. Some of the people give us a strange look and I wonder what the reason is for that.
I feel we’re wasting our time. All of a sudden, right along the higway is a “Gated community” Cabañas Sol y Luna”, with a dozen very modern looking cabins. At the gate, the signs tells us to use the phone. When Ramiro  talks to a lady in the office via the phone, she tells him he is too early and has to come back at 8:00 pm. That’s strange, at most places, check in time is three o’clock. When the lady asks him for how many hours he needs the cabin, we finally get the idea. At least we get a good laugh out of it and move on into town. There is absolutely no accommodation in La Union. After three hours we’re back at Rio Bueno and end up with he room without window, which turns out not to be that bad after all. It is clean, modern and friendly.

After such a large lunch at Archie and Bernadine’s place, we had decided to settle for some fruit and yogurt tonight. But when we discover that we left all our fruit on the table in the cabin in Puerto Varas we decide to walk to the centre of town for something light.
The bicentential celebrations are at full swing. I am not to keen on eating kebobs in one of the beer tents.

  But when we spot the German Club we go upstairs and order a bottle of wine and aplate of Pinchanga; a dish which reminds me of the American version of Nachos. The plate is loaded with French fries topped with melted cheese, tomatoes, avocadoes and chicken. Somehow we manage to finish the entire bottle of wine and must walk it off.


We watch the many activities around the square and browse the market where I buy a desperately needed pair of sunglasses and watch some of the entertainment; The singer is fantastic; I love the Spanish songs.

Ramiro cannot resist the Churros covered with sugar and when we walk along the various stands he decided to play fussbal and darts and gambles his money away on an old airplane game. Everything is so old. I wonder where it will end up next. Cuba, perhaps?








When we return to our room, well after midnight we both agree, that this has been a day to remember.