Boots and beach front property.

I spent the night in Puerto Varas doing something much more American than I probably ever would, had I been at home. That`s right, I watched the Super Bowl. I`m not a football fan in the least but ended up watching more of this game then any other Super Bowl I can remember. The hostel had a disproportionate amount of American`s in it and they were having the ultimate American experience. They had chips and salsa. They had wives who brought them beer while they sat fixated on the game. Even though I thought that last nights game was hands down the most exciting football game I have ever seen (that`s really not saying much) I still found it hard to stay focused on the plays. Even worse, the highly anticipated Super Bowl commercials do not transmit to South America.

I had breakfast before I left the hostel this morning and began talking to a couple from Iowa. We got on the subject of farming and they were trying to explain to me that there is no alternative to an argibusiness system that supports mono-culture over-fertilized and over-pesticized crops. Though I disagreed, I felt it was unwise to take up this discussion with someone who had 45 years experience working the fields of Iowa. I left Puerto Varas by collectivo (mini-van bus) back to Puerto Montt, a town that I discovered through conversations at the hostel the previous night, puts everyone in a foul mood. It`s the stares mostly. They transcend the usual `stranger in a foreign land´ stare to something much more menacing.

I bought a ticket right away to Chonchi on the island of Chiloé where I would spend the night. The bus crossed the island by a short ferry and I was grateful that it did not make me sick. Perhaps I won`t be vomiting into the Pacific after all. Chonchi is a charming place. It doesn`t cater to tourists in the way that most other places in Chile seem to. It still seems to retain it`s sense of self and a unique identity in a country that has seemed consistently bland. Perhaps their distance from the mainland leaves them untouched by the development and progress of the rest of the country. It`s a sleepy fishing village that reminds me of small towns in Maine. The people even look a little like Mainers, leathery skin that has seen its share of wind and rain. Walking around the town I breathed in the most comforting smell of wood burning and saw smoke curling out of tin chimeny`s. The air smelled fresh and wet almost like before it snows.

I came across a ferreteria, which unlike its name implies, sells hardware goods not ferrets. I needed to get a new pair of rubber boots for the farm. Buying the boots at the ferreteria was a more more tranquilo experience than buying them from the Mamacita at the market in Ecuador. I only needed to try on 3 pairs before finding my size. If I had known how much a pair of boots would cost in Chile, I might have thought twice about donating my last pair to Sacred Sueños. But for $9,500 pesos (15USD) I am once again the proud owner of rubber boots.

I`m spending the night in a rustic/run down hostel. It feels like a summer home at the start of the season and everything just needs to be aired out and spruced up a bit. I like it though. I have a private room facing the ocean for the rock bottom price of $7,000 pesos ($11). It`s the best deal I have found in a while. The owner explained that my room is called Penguina because often in the mornings you can see penguins frolicking in the water outside the window, but for some reason they penguins never came this year.

Tomorrow I head to Quellon at the southern tip of Chiloè to board my ferry. I have no idea how long I will be on the ferry. According to the company who sold me the ticket, only 6-8 hours. According to the materials sent to me from the farm the ferry is 12 hours in good weather, but they advise bringing food because you could spend `more than a day´ on the boat in bad weather. I am more inclined to believe the farm than the ferry company and will stock up on supplies in Quellon tomorrow.

Whenever I happen to arrive, there will be a reservation for me by the farm at a hospedaje for one night and then I will meet someone, though I am not entirely certain how, who will transport me to the farm. Wish me luck and wish luck to my Dad who is having knee surgery tomorrow!