This update may become a little complicated. We might therefore suggest moving your coffee to one side, clear some space on your desks and reach for your Michelen Latin America map. You do have a map, right? Good. If you run your finger down the backbone of the Andes you will come across a town called Puerto Montt. It is around a third of the way down from Santiago toward the bottom of Chile. This is the start and end point of this tale. Sue was reunited with her parents in Ushuaia - a stop off point on their own South American cruise. The day was cut short however as we had a flight to Puerto Montt booked. As a result, we arrived in Puerto Montt some days earlier than Sue's folks, Eric and Mazza. This allowed us time to recharge our batteries and plan our next adventure. We had planned on driving the length of the Carretera Austral. This is a gravel road built during Pinochet's rule. Not designed to make the inhabitants of extremely remote settlements feel cared for - more out of paranoia that Argentina might invade the south, leaving military retaliation close to impossible. From the travellers view point, the road has provided an oportunity to visit otherwise unspoilt wilderness. We collected our bargain pick-up and proceeded to the port to collect Sue's padres. The following two weeks involved crossing the border into Argentina and returning into Chile several hundred kilometers south to meet the start of the Carretera Austral. We took in very pleasant lakeside towns, in particular Puerto Varas (Chile), Angostura (Argentina) and some rather quirky towns such as El Bosen and Futaleufu. Once we reached the beginning of the Carretera, we were faced with the realisation that this might be more of a challenge than we'd previously understood. Deeply rutted, pot holed and darn right uncomfortable to drive on, we endured a total of three hard days on the move. Dust was a real problem. Fast paced oncoming vehicles also left Phill glancing in his miirror to gauge the rear occupants reactions. Before long our front nearside tyre succomed to the battering. Four Italians and a Chilean helped us change the wheel and we gingerly continued. Our turning point was Coyhaique. A large town with some sence of civilisation about it. The grande supermercado provided us with some degree of excitment! We stood in awe at the rows of yoghurt and bagged mayonaise. Those previously mentioned quirky towns seemed to survive on just a few dusty tins of western produce. Rested up and again rareing to go, we clambered back into the truck and commenced our 500km northward journey to the town of Chaiten. We managed the trip in one day. 9 hours to be exact. We were that desperate for bitumen! We bumped and slid, rattled and rolled for hour after hour, barely taking in the dramatic, beautiful scenery which, on the downward leg, had been photographed to excess. Then... BANG! A frightening noise bombarded us from under the car. Phill jumped out to retreive what we though was a torn up tyre, only to discover it was the mangled remains of the front bumper. It had shaken loose and fallen under our truck. We were lucky that our tyres and fuel tank were still intact. More importantly we were still intact! A rather frazzled looking Eric emerged from the back door, sporting menacing sunglasses and a gangster rap style baseball cap cocked over to one side. 'I knew this was going to happen', announced Eric. You're driving too fast Phill', he continued. Can't really argue with that to be honest! Several more pieces of the vehicle came loose as we continued on our way. We taped the front headlight to the surround and enjoyed an entertaining moment as another motorist offered assistance. 'No thats fine thank you very much', Eric responded, 'we're just sticking the car back together'. Two nights followed in Chaiten whilst we awaited our turn for the 5 hour car ferry to Chiloe and with it relative civilisation. The uninterupted blue skies of the past week gave way to mist and fog. An errie mood prevailed. Chaiten is a small town set out in a grid system, typical of Chilean towns. The sense that time has had little effect on the locals was emphasised when we found a horse tied up outside a bar. Our ferry ride proved painless. Infact, quite surreal. We sat in front of a portable sized TV watching a 4 hour DVD of the Golden Jubilee celebrations. This in the company of thirty or so locals! We bounded off the ferry in what was left of our pick up and enjoyed the black top roads we had so craved. We weaved our way along countryside which could have been mistaken for England. A final couple of nights in the shabby looking town of Ancud, our last stop. Back in Puerto Montt the car rental company was, as you can imagine, not impressed with the remains of their vehicle. Eric whispered that it was like a scene from''Trains Planes and Automobiles'! We argued that falling bumpers was not our responsibility and, after a long discussion, managed to retreive our insurance excess credit card slip. On reflection, we had quite an adventure. The scenerary was unbeatable. Hanging glaciers, mirror lakes, aquamarine raging rivers and circling turkey vultures. Mazza's homecooking, evenings fuelled with vino tinto and over a 100 games of rummy made the gravel and dust easier to bear. We are now in Santiago. Eric and Mazza sadly return to the UK tomorrow and we will wave goodbye not only to them, but to our aparthotel complete with CNN and rooftop pool! The same rooftop pool that is calling our names right now. Next stop for us, Argentina... AGAIN! PaS