Blog 17: A Fly-Past of the Andes

29-30 November 2023

After enjoying the heat and sunshine of the deserts in Bolivia and Chile, I was ready for something new and looking forward to my trip south to Chile's so-called 'Lake District' also known as Northern Patagonia. I'd be flying several thousand kilometers down a large portion of Chile, stopping midway to change flights in Santiago. I booked window seats on the left side of both flights, assuming this would give me a cracking view of the Andes all the way, and I was right.

Early on the 29th, before dawn, I checked out of The Jardin Atacama hotel and waited outside for the transfer bus to Calama Airport, about an hour's drive to the West of San Pedro. The hotel packed me a breakfast and a lunch in brown paper bags to take with me. Sweet, although I'd eaten both before the bus even collected me.

Speaking of which, I was getting a little nervous that the booking hadn't gone through, as I hadn't entered my reservation number in the confirmation. But it was only 5 minutes outside of the time range I'd been given.

The trip down to Calama was uneventful, except that I noticed the gradual drop in elevation all the way. San Pedro is quite high, but even it was a huge drop from the Bolivian border. I remembered seeing Chile emerge as a giant plateau as we descended from the border region around Lincancabur volcano.

Dawn light was just beginning to bathe Calama when we arrived at the airport on the outskirts of town. Calama looked quite big from a distance, with medium-rise apartments stretching across the city. It seemed like quite a prosperous city; the housing estates near the airport looked endless and repetitive, but modern. A contrast to the remote villages of Bolivia.

The airport was also modern and I was able to get a decent coffee while I waited. When we boarded I realised Calama must be a FIFO town, I didn't see a single female board the plane, it was all male workers returning to Santiago.

When we took off, I saw the desert volcanoes on the Bolivian border one last time. There was a single horizontal cloud near the peaks and they were sillhouetted against the rising sun. As the plane ascended, we drew level with them up there on the Atacama plateau.

'Bye guys

About an hour later, as we approached Santiago, the thrusting peaks of the main Andes range became visible through the mists. Towering over them all was the tallest peak in all America, Aconconghua, in Argentina but totally visible from Chile.

We were literally level with it

Santiago straddles the arid and temperate zones of Chile. It's position in the centre of the country, between the mountains and the sea, means that air gets trapped in a kind of basin. Air pollution is thus a problem for Santiago.

That's Santiago down there

I walked off the landbridge and discovered my flight to Puerto Montt boarding at the very next gate. Couldn't have been easier. I boarded and started flight two.

Immediately after clearing Santiago's smog, fertile Chile emerged down below. And what a green and fertile land it is. For the whole flight, the Andes stretched along unbroken to the West, their massive snow-laden peaks feeding east-flowing rivers on a vast green landscape that stretches the length of southern Chile. A steady succession of beautiful farmlands, fields, forests and cities extended below for nearly two hours.

As we got a fair way down South, I noticed the main range of the Andes skirting off into the East and their place directly below being taken by massive snow-clad volcanoes. One after another the volcanoes studded valleys now full of sizeable lakes as well as farmlands. I figured this must be the 'Lakes District'. These are just some of the volcanoes:

Arriving at Puerto Varas

I arrived on time at Puerto Montt airport and my pre-arranged taxi was there to greet me. We drove through beautiful verdant farmlands and patches of tall temperate forest to Puerto Varas, on an extensive lake bordered by Mount Osorno in the East. The mount wasn't visible today, with thick cloud covering it. The lake was choppy and grey. The wind was cold. It was like returning to Winter after the Summer of the North.

Nonetheless Puerto Varas and the Hotel Bellavista, on the shores of the lake, were full of charm. The hotel looked and smelt like a ski-lodge, there was an open fire in the lounge area by the lobby and several cafe options with picture windows overlooking the lake. It seemd very comfortable. My pine-lined room overlooked the lake too, and had a bath.

The town centre seemed old fashioned to me - the cake shops smelt like bakeries did in Maryborough back in the sixties. I totally confused everyone by asking for a cake in the cakeshop, for some reason it was very difficult to organise. Elsewhere, I bought an alpaca ski jumper for myself, then went back to the hotel and had soup in the restaurant, overlooking the lake. I was enjoying the change in climate, a novelty after the North, and I slept like a log.

The hotel Bellavista