Ok so another update regarding the adventures of the Gyakyi's. For the past four days a hostel by the name of Geronimo in the Chilean town of Pucon has been our home. So what's Pucon like? Well it's probably the smartest little town Chile has served up to date. A magnate for backpackers due to the various adrenaline activities that you can indulge in and also for Chileans and their families due to it's surrounding beauty. Although not actually in the same town, the skyline is dominated by the majestic beauty of volcan Villarrica, a snow capped volcano measuring some 2800 meters.

So what have we been up to? Well as Becky has already said, the 30th of Jan was my birthday, however, seeing as we're already doing something special I was more than happy with just mooching about and getting to know the town of Pucon a little better. We were originally planning to have a beverage or two, however, due to the activity we had planned the following day which included a 5.40 am start, we settled for a quiet meal instead. Lovely!
As to the following days activity, that happened to be a hike up the dominating feature of Pucon's skyline, all 2800 meters of volcan Villarrica and a look into the crater of a live volcano!

Ok so as already stated, we had an early start to pick up equipment for the hike followed by a 30 min bus ride to the base of Villarrica to catch the recomended cable car for the first 400 metres. One problem, we get there and the cable cars weren't running because of the wind. Lovely!! So our 15 ride for the first 400 metres turns into an hour hike. Added to that issue, I notice that our guides put the full monty on in terms of equipment. Ski goggles, mask the lot. As we get off the bus I quickly discovered why, the weather was bitter with a cutting bitting wind. Joy!! Now I like a physical challenge, but I also like cable cars and the sun.

Regardless, we put on the balaclavas, loaded up the backpacks and progressed. Marching up the side of the volcano in single file, faced with a now increased hike of about seven odd hours.

Now sometime into our journey, I was asked by a fellow hiking fool 'how I was doing'? My reply? 'It wasn't the most fun I'd had in my life'. I can't lie, i had begun to question my choice a little earlier. No chance of me giving up, but the question why did run through head. Anyway we ploughed on, the wind picked up, Becky fretted about being blown off into the rocks and we were then informed we might not be able to cross the glacier due to the high winds. More good news!

About half way up, we hit the ice and snow and so on came the crampons, out came the ice axe followed by the helmets. Well all but mine, as the thing didn't fit. Nothing to do with the size of my head by the way, instead it was a foolishly short strap. The guide just shrugged and smiled. Nice one. Quick bit of instruction on how not to lance yourself with the axe or snap your arm in two by doing manoeuvres you'd seen in the movies and vamos!

Thankfully it didn't take too long to get used to the crampons and ice axe and by now the views were stunning. Walking to a height above the clouds and being able to look down on them is without doubt a sight to behold.
Thankfully the wind and cold that had been causing Becky's breathing so much trouble and which at one point might have forced her to turn back, began to abate and I'm glad to report that we made it to the top. Unfortunately due to the highly toxic nature of the sulphuric smoke that constantly emerges from the volcano, the top is not really somewhere that you can hang about. So poses struck and pictures taken, we started the journey back down.

Going up took about 4 and a half hours, going down was to take about an hour and a half. The reason for this? Much of the journey down was to take place on our backsides as we slid down the volcano on sleds. However, the sight of a makeshift vertical flume had one or two of us looking a little concerned. Especially as the only form of brake we had was our hand pressing on an ice axe. Young Becky was even more concerned and I'm sure that many of you already know, the snow and Becky don't really mix. On the whole I enjoyed the slide down and let's just say that Becky didn't. To be fair, by this time the weather had closed in and so you found yourself not being able to see the person in front hurtling down a volcano on a piece of plastic. This resulted in one incident where about 10 folks (including both of us), overshooting where we were meant to stop and continuing to hurtle down the volcano. This resulted in some sharp work by a few of the guides to stop us from flying off to God knows where and some delightful action hero axe work from myself to bring my particular unscheduled romp to an end. Marvellous!!

In summation, we are both glad we did it and doubly glad we made it to the top and back down in basically one piece. However, we've decided to give the hiking a bit of a break for a while and go back to drinking, eating and chilling for a bit. The money saved from the non working ski lifts was therefore spent drinking in a local bar on our return as reward for our efforts.

In keeping with our new direction, we spent the following day on a black sand volcanic beach chilling and basking in some surprisingly lovely sunshine.
Pucon done, time to hop on another bus, head over the Andes and cross the border back to Argentina and San Martin De Los Andes.

Vamos!!

G

Becky's p.s. The journey down sounds quite fun from the way G's described it, but trust me it was super scary! Before hurtling past where we were meant to stop, I had already lost control and gone backwards twice!! Then trying to walk back up to where we were meant to be is no easy feat with no crampons on and just borrowed boots for grip, so guess what?! I lost my footing and started heading down the ice far too "rapido" for my liking. There was no hero manouvere from me as I dropped my ice pick! Thank god for our guide Juanito, my knight in shining armour, he flew past and stopped me. He then took my arm and got me back up, patience of a saint!

Two things I have had confirmed 1) I do not like adrenalin sports. 2) The more scared I get, the angrier I get and the swearing starts!! Very similar to when I told my skiing instructor to F off when I was 21 and had straddled a post!!