The Finest Beach in the World

That is what one guide book calls the 20km beach at Cucao on the Pacific coast of Chilloe. It is spectactual and just as desolate as when Darwin dropped by. No development just intimidating thundering surf, nothing like the occaisional tsumani to sweep it clean. I biked on the next day through pouring rain, the gortex and marino keeping balance of  rain in and sweat out. Pushing the bike up long inclines kept me warm. I´d stop at bus shelters for a quick brew-up of tea. My homemade beer can alcohol stove works brilliantly.

The Pan American is a ribbon of juggernauts blasting inches away until the final day when it was reduced to a single lane and the mountain bike ruled. I passed the long lines of waiting traffic and bounced throught the mud, rocks and flooded washouts.

Next I go back to the mainland in search of the 3000 year old trees, the only new things here are the earthquakes and volcanoes.

Shouded in Pacific Mist

I´m on the Souuth Pacific island of Chiloe and the plants and shrubs are the same as rural Ireland - Darwin really must have been stuffing his bags full when he stombed thru here. Had a great two days in Porto Montt staying at Casa Perlas. The hostel has everything the weary traveller wants, good chat, great breakfast, hot showers and a peaceful garden.
I stay here until Christmas day camping on the beach , fishing and maybe write a little, then back to the mainland and peddle south.

Peddled to the Pacific

Twelve days and 1200km I`m in Porto Montt eating strawberries. The backdrop are snowcapped volcanoes and along the water front are artisan stalls of fresh fruit and handcrafts. Faded, jaded and definately slightly smelly after living outside for two weeks lonesome for soap. Now, refreshed and re-stocked. Next I cross onto the island of Chiloe and bike the coast which is the South Pacific`s equivalent of Newfoundland`s outports, a world of mists and magic.

Rolling down the Pan American Highway

Its day seven and I´m in Temuco, 750 km south of Santiago. Tomorrow I do a loop through the Lake District to see the volcanoes and hot springs. Then onto the Isla de Chiloe before peddling into the heart of Patagonia on the carratera austral. The first night´in Santiago the hostal had morphed into a retirement home and so instead of samba it was the sound of shuffling slippers.