Arrival at Reserva Añihue

The ferry was fairly empty and I was able to fall into a half-sleep, stretched across the seats, ever mindful of the whereabouts of my messenger which contained all my most precious belongings. Around 3:30am I was awoken from a sleep that was much deeper than I realized by men walking the aisles announcing my destination. I shook off my sleep while climbing a ladder-like stairway down into the belly of the ferry where I waited with about 6 other passengers. We were all handed lifejackets while handles were slowly turned and twisted to open a large heavy door, revealing the Pacific Ocean on the other side. Moments later a small boat came bobbing up to the door and we carefully loaded ourselves and our belongings aboard. We traveled a short distance to the shore lit by an enormous spotlight.

After climbing a slippery ladder up to the dock the small boat pulled away into the night. And there we were, in absolute darkness. This is about the moment when I realized that I had no idea where I was going. There was supposed to be someone to meet me at the dock, but by this point it was 4am and the chances of a pick-up were looking slim. I looked around and I saw only darkness around me. There were no street lights, no lights shining out of the windows of houses, and it was safe to assume no street signs. I quickly began asking the few passengers who arrived with me about the location of the hospedaje I was supposed to stay the night. Luckily, the first person I asked guided me by flashlight to the doorstep of the hospedaje where at little old woman welcomed me into her home by candlelight.

In the morning I walked downstairs and sat at a table just outside the kitchen where I was served my breakfast. As I ate alone, children came lumbering out of their bedrooms one by one, bedheaded and sleepy eyed. Soon the house was filled with chattering voices, clattering pots and pans, and a flurry of activity in the kitchen surrounding the woodburning stove upon which water was being heated and lunch preparations were already starting to simmer. Though the language was not my own, the sights and sounds drifting out of the kitchen were distinct and evoked memories of my childhood. Throughout the morning and into the afternoon people came and went, sending a comforting soundwave to my ears interrupted only by the low hum of a chainsaw in the distance. No one left for school, no one left for work, everyone stayed in the house together. But I was not a part of their laughter. I sat alone in the next room experiencing from a distance this familar family scene. I was a foreigner who unlike them was warmed not by the heat of the woodstove, but by the memories that drifted happily back to my mind.

I spent most of the afternoon reading, though I did take a short walk around the town, which didn´t consist of much. Just a few houses here and there along a sandy path with a dense forest on one side. There is a population of about 500 here but it felt like much less. At around 4pm I was picked up at the hospedaje and driven to the other side of the town to the start of a trailhead which we walked down for about 20 minutes. The trail opened up onto a small beach and within a few minutes a boat picked me up. About 10 minutes later we had crossed a small river and were climbing off the boat at Toninas, the first point of entry into Reserva Añihue.