Addendum: Volcán Puyehue

When I moved to Chile, I was aware that there were certain risks involved. Earthquakes for example. And so, I was prepared. I read up on what we needed to do, I made sure we had a stock cupboard full of emergency supplies, and I practised running under the table to make sure I'd fit. With time, I've become accustomed to feeling the ground shake and to hearing our apartment building go bang now and again.

What I wasn't prepared for, was volcanoes. Volcanoes to me are the stuff of legend. They happen in Pompeii, in ancient times, or in Iceland, where the whole landscape is volcanic. Of course I know that Chile is located on the Pacific ring of fire. That's why it has earthquakes, right? But duh, it also means it has volcanoes. Active ones.

So there we are, happily living the high life in Termas de Puyehue. From our balcony window we can see the snow-covered Volcán Puyehue, sitting in the Caulle volcanic range. It hasn't erupted in more than five decades. Carlos casually tells me that he saw a puff of smoke from the range during his cabalgata. This, he was told, is quite normal, especially in winter, where obviously the difference between the air temperature and that of the volcanic crater means more steam gets produced. It's when there's smoke in the heat of summer, or no smoke for days, that the locals start to worry.

 Volcán Puyehue, before it erupted

A couple of days later in Valdivia, we see on the morning news predictions of a seismic swarm for Puyehue - a series of smallish earthquakes in close succession. How exciting we think, and how funny that we were there just a few days before.

In Pucón, we giggle at a volcano warning system, joking to ourselves that we wouldn't be hanging around to watch the light change to red if there was smoke billowing from the crater of Volcán Villarrica. I lament that I've spent the whole week around volcanoes and have yet to see any smoke, annoyed but in good humour that Carlos has and I haven't.

Happily we return home from our holiday, go to sleep for a few hours before hooking ourselves back up to the internet to see what we've missed during the previous 9 days. It's then that I see the messages on Facebook. Where are you? Have you left Puyehue? Are you stuck waiting for a flight? It's then that I discover that as we were sitting in Pucón bus terminal, that volcano that from the hot volcanic springs of Puyehue we'd watch turn pink with the sunset, had exploded.

Over the coming days, as I return to my day job and start writing news stories about it, we discover that large parts of the region we had been staying in days before had been evacuated. The pass over the mountains to Argentina is closed. And the most beautiful place on earth is covered with ash, Bariloche's crystal blue waters grey with sediment.

It's then that I realise we've had a lucky escape, and that with a landscape of such great beauty, must come respect for the earth that created it.

Some of my stories about the Puyehue volcano:

• Volcán Puyehue: the latest outlook, I Love Chile (08/06/11)
• Satellite images of volcanic ash plume made available by authorities, I Love Chile (08/06/11)
• Life in the shelter: evacuees from Volcán Puyehue try to regain normality, I Love Chile (08/06/11)
• Puyehue volcano: latest, I Love Chile (14/06/11)
• Volcanic ash reaches Chile, I Love Chile (17/06/11)
• Puyehue evacuees return home, I Love Chile (20/06/11)

And finally: Pucón

Leaving behind Valdivia, we arrived in tourist-central Pucón around midnight. We were met at the bus station by a man who claimed to be the owner of the hostel we were staying at. A little suspicious, as we weren't expecting anyone, we cautiously followed him into what did appear to be our hostel and onto a very windy cabaña-style annex.

Pucón, as I mentioned, is super-touristy, and the jury is still out as to whether I like it or not. A small town on the side of a lake, its grid-pattern streets are lined with picture-perfect log-cabin style buildings, most of which house tour and adventure companies. The main draw to Pucón is the looming Volcán Villarrica, which can be climbed (with a guide and special equipment). As we're not particularly fit, and it was late on in the season, we had decided before arriving against doing this.

The crater of Volcán Villarrica

Preferring to explore by ourselves, we had hoped to walk around the skirts of the volcano in the surrounding Villarrica national park. So, avoiding the ever-zealous sales reps, we enquired at the main tourist office about where we could go under our own steam. This was a mistake. We discovered to our dismay that the only way way to access the reserve on your own was with a car. Otherwise, you needed to join one of the many tours leaving Pucón (did I mention those?), all of which we'd missed as we didn't exactly wake up very early.

We were left then with two options - staying in Pucón (which would have ultimately meant hanging around in a bar with loads of other gringo backpackers) or heading out to a different national park which was accessible by public transport. We chose the latter.

Lago Villarrica, from Pucón

The bus to Parque Huerquehue took around an hour and was an exciting journey traversing a pretty steep hillside. Once there, we consulted the park ranger about routes we could complete in the three hours we had before the last bus left the site. Mildly ticked off by the ranger for not arriving early enough for a decent length walk, I handed over my extranjero (foreigner) entrance fee of 4000 pesos, while Carlos got away with the local fee of 2500 pesos thanks to his Chilean ID card, despite a comment from the ranger about his Spanish accent.

Parque Huerquehue, as the rain started to fall

As the rain started to fall, we set off on a walk through the native forest. It was lovely, but the increasing rain and time constraints meant that we indeed did not get very far at all before we had to turn back and slosh our way through the mud to be counted back on the bus.

Returning to Pucón, we finally had the chance to sample some local trout, which Carlos had been dreaming of ever since we noticed it on a menu in our first five minutes in Bariloche. We also had a starter of seafood soup (again local) which was just delicious.

And that was that, bar an hour or so knitting in the bus station while we awaited the ten hour return trip back to the smoggy city of Santiago. Thank you to the regions of Los Ríos, Los Lagos and La Araucanía, you definitely prove the saying here that "Santiago no es Chile" (Santiago isn't Chile).

It's been a while readers...

I must apologise for my tardiness with writing. But you see, I've been away. Not once, but twice. I'm a very lucky girl. During my travels in the south of Chile I have:

• had one of the most amazing experiences of my life;
• been to the most beautiful place in the world I have (so far) ever seen;
• stayed in the most luxurious place I have ever stayed; 
• completed my longest ever journey by bus; and,
• witnessed one of the most astonishing views I have ever set eyes on.

Oh, and narrowly missed a volcano erupting.

I'll be filling you in over the coming days, but for now, here's a tantalising taster...

Nevados de Chillan

Bariloche, Argentina

Volcan Puyehue

Lago Llanquihue and Volcan Osorno

Valdivia waterfront

Parque Huerquehue near Pucon