So Osorno is the connecting city to Bariloche when crossing the border into Chile, and along the route is a trek to do around a volcanoe to some thermal baths. All I found waiting for me though was an adventure in a whole other way.
So what is the normal thing to do when you arrive in a new area and want more detailed information on treks or what there is to do? Go to the local park agencies and tourist booths of course. To have information is, after all, their jobs. First thing was first though, and that was to find a place to stay, drop the burdensome pack, and then go for a walk and info hunting. I chose a little hospedaje (family who rents out extra rooms in their house) that my guide book seemed to like. The guidebook warned it was a little worn, but that the charm of the elderly older man who owned the place made up for it. Prefering friendly service to stale comfort, it sounded nice.
A girl from New Zealand had arrived with me on the same bus and had also chosen the place for the same reason. She was also interested in trekking and hiking options, as well as just what there was to do in general in the city, so we took off to the local tourist booth in the main plaza, as CONAF (in charge of park info and trail maintenance in Chile) was closed at that point in the day, as was the national tourist information service.
In need of some practice in Spanish, I let her do the talking. That was of course until the people in the booth fired back the info at light speed with little anunciation and that blank stare of confusion and lack of understanding (something I have felt so many times) made it clear she was getting nothing, so I jumped in, having about 2-3 more months experience than her. It was funny though that this guy thought she would understand his full speed spanish when she had barlely gotten her question out in broken spanish. Odd, just because he is supposed to be used to working with tourists, right?
It turned out they didn't have much for us, just pointed to some national parks on a map and said, "you can go here."
"Well do you have any maps?"
"Not really. We do of this one area, but we can't give it to you."
"Why?"
"Blah blah blah (some excuse I didn't fully understand but that CONAF wasn't giving them out yet for some reason. It is the middle of the trekking season! What do you mean they aren't giving them out yet?!)"
"Ok, so is there a place to buy maps in the city?"
"No, not really. I think they might have them in this city (pointed to a map of some place like 45 minutes away), and at the entrance maybe." (That is so helpful for planning...)
"Ok...um....what is there to do here?"
"Well...." I was handed a brochure with some pretty pictures of some ugly places in the city and was basically told there is nothing to do here, cleverly disguised by detailed explanations that tell you all about how much each place has nothing to offer. Ok we thought, maybe we will just go to CONAF tomorrow and see what they can tell us.
Back at the hospedaje, we did normal traveler things like buy food to eat and cook and ask for information and where we can go and who we can talk to. Normally people are happy to help, but with our woman host (from now on the daughter), it felt more like trying to draw oil from a well. So we sort of gave up, and I asked if I could do some cooking to the daughter (of about 50-60). She said sure, and so I went in looking for pots and pans and all that. Then the old man (charmer, remember) came in, look abhorred, told me to stop, and yelled for his daughter to come down. He irritatedly told her I was snooping around the kitchen, yada yada, so then she had to personally give me everything I needed, then went back upstairs to sew. The old man sat in the kitchen and divided his attention between me and the TV, and I went on cooking.
Afterwards I needed to wash the dishes, so I asked the old man where the dish soap was. He had no idea, and yelled for his daughter (which he does with every question practically, and she gets irritated coming up and down the stairs all the time for trivial questions like where is the dish soap). So I washed the dishes, and left to my room, the only place I felt like I wasn't rudely intruding in their lives like a unwelcome guest. I talked to my New Zealand friend, and she felt the same way; like unless we were in our rooms, we were just a nuisance, and we both wondered where the charm was hiding in the old man. Perplexed by the guidebook's praise, we went to bed, planning to go to CONAF in the morning to search out some info.
So the next morning we showed up bright and early in the morning to ask for info, maps,or whatever they had. We were handed the map we weren't allowed to have the day before, and were shown some trails in the parks nearby. I asked about trail conditions, having had some problems with the snow in Bariloche. "No...it is all good," they said. "No problem." Awesome I thought. They still didn't have very detailed maps, so we went to look for a bookstore and do some other errands.
Chileans from Osorno apparently don't read though, and there was only one bookstore we found that sold books, mostly used novels in Spanish and a few in English. This is another little quirk. We found about 30 librerias (ie, book stores), but apparently if you sell paper or anything in anyway related (and/or unrelated) to books, you can call yourself a libreria. We passed a ton of these so called bookstores who didn't have a single book to sell. So needless to say, after being pointed all over the city to these obscure "book stores" we didn't find a map. Finally we decided to try the national tourist office in a side chance they might tell us something we wanted to know while we listened to a lot of things we didn't want to know.
The people in the office were very nice and helpful, but didn't have any maps or trekking info. They did however give us a telephone number of a cheap hostel right at the trail entrance (hour and a half from town), which was good news after feeling of our hospedaje, where we would want to leave stuff for the trek (but then after the whole kitchen incident and everything else we felt really uncomfortable doing this). So we said thanks and went back to the other side of town to our hospedaje. I went to call the hostel to see if they had room. I got a recorded message saying that number wasn't in use. Well, that about figures now doesn't it. Oh well I thought, I guess we will just have to leave our stuff with the hospedaje.
I remebered a question I forgot to ask CONAF, so in the afternoon I traversed the city again to ask, and there ended up being a ranger from the park in the office. After talking to him about where I wanted to go he said I couldn't because of snow. "Really," I asked. "They said earlier everthing was open." He didn't work that sector, so he gave me a number to call, and so I called it and found out that indeed no, not all the trails are open and that we couldn't do the trek. Good thing we found out before the unfruitful bookstore search. I have since found that nobody in CONAF knows anything about the trails unless they are a ranger, because nobody walks on them. But rangers don't work in the office, which is where you go to find out all the information about the trails that the office people don't walk on and know nothing about.
By this time me and my friend had had enough of the city, the lack of info, the info given by those who knew nothing of what you were asking about, so we had bus tickets out the next day. It was quite a bust, made all the more dramatic that it took a day and a half of walking all over to find out one simple piece of information that would have saved so much time. Oh well, hopefully it is good for some laughs for you guys. And this is, in all its glory, traveling, so it comes with the territory. I just hope it isn't a prelude to similar experiences in Chile. I am optomistic though. So now I am off to Pucon near Volcano Villarica to do another trek. I hope for some better luck this time!
So what is the normal thing to do when you arrive in a new area and want more detailed information on treks or what there is to do? Go to the local park agencies and tourist booths of course. To have information is, after all, their jobs. First thing was first though, and that was to find a place to stay, drop the burdensome pack, and then go for a walk and info hunting. I chose a little hospedaje (family who rents out extra rooms in their house) that my guide book seemed to like. The guidebook warned it was a little worn, but that the charm of the elderly older man who owned the place made up for it. Prefering friendly service to stale comfort, it sounded nice.
A girl from New Zealand had arrived with me on the same bus and had also chosen the place for the same reason. She was also interested in trekking and hiking options, as well as just what there was to do in general in the city, so we took off to the local tourist booth in the main plaza, as CONAF (in charge of park info and trail maintenance in Chile) was closed at that point in the day, as was the national tourist information service.
In need of some practice in Spanish, I let her do the talking. That was of course until the people in the booth fired back the info at light speed with little anunciation and that blank stare of confusion and lack of understanding (something I have felt so many times) made it clear she was getting nothing, so I jumped in, having about 2-3 more months experience than her. It was funny though that this guy thought she would understand his full speed spanish when she had barlely gotten her question out in broken spanish. Odd, just because he is supposed to be used to working with tourists, right?
It turned out they didn't have much for us, just pointed to some national parks on a map and said, "you can go here."
"Well do you have any maps?"
"Not really. We do of this one area, but we can't give it to you."
"Why?"
"Blah blah blah (some excuse I didn't fully understand but that CONAF wasn't giving them out yet for some reason. It is the middle of the trekking season! What do you mean they aren't giving them out yet?!)"
"Ok, so is there a place to buy maps in the city?"
"No, not really. I think they might have them in this city (pointed to a map of some place like 45 minutes away), and at the entrance maybe." (That is so helpful for planning...)
"Ok...um....what is there to do here?"
"Well...." I was handed a brochure with some pretty pictures of some ugly places in the city and was basically told there is nothing to do here, cleverly disguised by detailed explanations that tell you all about how much each place has nothing to offer. Ok we thought, maybe we will just go to CONAF tomorrow and see what they can tell us.
Back at the hospedaje, we did normal traveler things like buy food to eat and cook and ask for information and where we can go and who we can talk to. Normally people are happy to help, but with our woman host (from now on the daughter), it felt more like trying to draw oil from a well. So we sort of gave up, and I asked if I could do some cooking to the daughter (of about 50-60). She said sure, and so I went in looking for pots and pans and all that. Then the old man (charmer, remember) came in, look abhorred, told me to stop, and yelled for his daughter to come down. He irritatedly told her I was snooping around the kitchen, yada yada, so then she had to personally give me everything I needed, then went back upstairs to sew. The old man sat in the kitchen and divided his attention between me and the TV, and I went on cooking.
Afterwards I needed to wash the dishes, so I asked the old man where the dish soap was. He had no idea, and yelled for his daughter (which he does with every question practically, and she gets irritated coming up and down the stairs all the time for trivial questions like where is the dish soap). So I washed the dishes, and left to my room, the only place I felt like I wasn't rudely intruding in their lives like a unwelcome guest. I talked to my New Zealand friend, and she felt the same way; like unless we were in our rooms, we were just a nuisance, and we both wondered where the charm was hiding in the old man. Perplexed by the guidebook's praise, we went to bed, planning to go to CONAF in the morning to search out some info.
So the next morning we showed up bright and early in the morning to ask for info, maps,or whatever they had. We were handed the map we weren't allowed to have the day before, and were shown some trails in the parks nearby. I asked about trail conditions, having had some problems with the snow in Bariloche. "No...it is all good," they said. "No problem." Awesome I thought. They still didn't have very detailed maps, so we went to look for a bookstore and do some other errands.
Chileans from Osorno apparently don't read though, and there was only one bookstore we found that sold books, mostly used novels in Spanish and a few in English. This is another little quirk. We found about 30 librerias (ie, book stores), but apparently if you sell paper or anything in anyway related (and/or unrelated) to books, you can call yourself a libreria. We passed a ton of these so called bookstores who didn't have a single book to sell. So needless to say, after being pointed all over the city to these obscure "book stores" we didn't find a map. Finally we decided to try the national tourist office in a side chance they might tell us something we wanted to know while we listened to a lot of things we didn't want to know.
The people in the office were very nice and helpful, but didn't have any maps or trekking info. They did however give us a telephone number of a cheap hostel right at the trail entrance (hour and a half from town), which was good news after feeling of our hospedaje, where we would want to leave stuff for the trek (but then after the whole kitchen incident and everything else we felt really uncomfortable doing this). So we said thanks and went back to the other side of town to our hospedaje. I went to call the hostel to see if they had room. I got a recorded message saying that number wasn't in use. Well, that about figures now doesn't it. Oh well I thought, I guess we will just have to leave our stuff with the hospedaje.
I remebered a question I forgot to ask CONAF, so in the afternoon I traversed the city again to ask, and there ended up being a ranger from the park in the office. After talking to him about where I wanted to go he said I couldn't because of snow. "Really," I asked. "They said earlier everthing was open." He didn't work that sector, so he gave me a number to call, and so I called it and found out that indeed no, not all the trails are open and that we couldn't do the trek. Good thing we found out before the unfruitful bookstore search. I have since found that nobody in CONAF knows anything about the trails unless they are a ranger, because nobody walks on them. But rangers don't work in the office, which is where you go to find out all the information about the trails that the office people don't walk on and know nothing about.
By this time me and my friend had had enough of the city, the lack of info, the info given by those who knew nothing of what you were asking about, so we had bus tickets out the next day. It was quite a bust, made all the more dramatic that it took a day and a half of walking all over to find out one simple piece of information that would have saved so much time. Oh well, hopefully it is good for some laughs for you guys. And this is, in all its glory, traveling, so it comes with the territory. I just hope it isn't a prelude to similar experiences in Chile. I am optomistic though. So now I am off to Pucon near Volcano Villarica to do another trek. I hope for some better luck this time!
Wow that sounds like a frustrating expereince...sadly a lot of latin countries are like that. When I was in Guatemala we would ask for directions and people woule tell us some way to go even if they didn't know the right way to go. Commonly people didn't want to tell you that they didn't know...which ended up in some very interesting experiences. I hope your next adventure is better. I enjoy looking at your pictures they're stinkin' awesome...
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