Sunday February 23rd, 2025 Puerto Montt, Chile
Updated: Mar 7
Having reached about halfway up the immense coast of Chile today we are visiting Puerto Montt, named for the president of Chile in the mid 1800s. Actually we are going on a tour of the Chilean lake district, visiting two German influenced towns and a national park. Unfortunately the weather this morning is not cooperating, the overcast clouds threatening to swallow the ship as we coasted into the sheltered bay at Puerto Montt.
A bit of historical background… In the early 1800s the government of Chile was struggling to get citizens to relocate to the largely unpopulated middle section of the long skinny country. The area was heavily forested with no towns, roads or infrastructure, a couple of local active volcanoes and, to top it off, about 9 feet of rainfall per year. A travelling German explorer approached the Chilean government with the idea of bringing over people from his homeland to try and settle in the center of the country. With government support he tootled off back to Germany and started to sell the idea of a new dream in South America. Given that Chile was almost entirely Roman Catholic at this time only catholic Germans were eligible for the deal, this must have been quite the challenge in largely Lutheran Germany. Somehow a ship full of hopeful settlers was rustled up and duly arrived in the “paradise” of central Chile – these must have been a tough bunch as they managed to clear the trees, build barns and houses and establish a farming community. The 7th generation of these brave settlers still farm in the region today.
Having tendered ashore we left the port in light drizzle and headed north for about 45 minutes – for most of the journey we travelled on a nice modern freeway. The countryside was very green with many farmsteads, the construction is mostly wood and corrugated iron, and they still use a overlapping wood shingle technique for the siding of many houses – this was developed during the period of the German settlers.
Our first stop was at Frutillar (pronounced frooty yah) a small town on the shore of Llanquihue Lake (pronounced yan kee way) – founded in 1856 by German pioneers much of the architecture of the city follows the style of southern Germany at that time, with lots of steep pitched rooflines and exposed beams. Cruising along the western shore of the lake, which is the largest in Chile, the overcast sky prevented us from seeing the Osorno volcano on the eastern shore – we had to take our guides word for it that it was a dead ringer for Mount Fuji in Japan. The road was lined with small hotels, restaurants and guesthouses – this area is a huge magnet for tourists in the summer, especially those who like watersports and fishing.
The German Colonial Museum was set back a bit from the shore in a quiet residential area and directly across the street we spotted a small bakery / café; we’d had a bit of a mix up at breakfast this morning and we ended up basically eating almost nothing before having to meet the tour group. We’d come prepared for the rain and as we crossed the street towards the bakery our umbrellas were put to good use; almost everyone from the bus decided to go straight into the museum and so the bakery only had a few local customers in it as we entered. The influence of German bakers was very evident in the pastry offering in the Parma Café; we shared a large pastry topped with fresh fruit and a light custard along with some excellent coffee - all for about 11 USD. The museum was quite small with beautifully tended gardens and a few wooden buildings from the early 1800s. Inside we found interesting displays of life during the time of the early German settlement – living rooms with furniture and a piano, a blacksmiths shop; well done and worth a visit.
Puerto Varas was our second stop; we headed back south down the freeway to the extreme southwest corner of Llanquihue Lake – it’s a very quaint little German-style town with a small central square and beautiful lakefront drive lined with hotels. Although the skies were still overcast, the rain had stopped and so no brollies were needed as we strolled down to the waterfront and admired the view across the calm waters of the lake – but still no sight of the volcano on he far shore. This being the very end of the summer season, schools start next week, the crowds were very light – I think the Cunard contingent from two buses outnumbered the rest of the tourists. Interestingly, one of the streets lining the small square was named Santa Rosa Street, our hometown. The squared looked to have had a recent renovation with wide tiled walkways, grassy areas, tall trees and concrete benches. A small artisan craft market was located along one side of the square; tiny shops jam-packed with tourist trinkets and interesting local woolen products – we quickly walked through the claustrophobic pathways and back out into the square.
Driving along the southern edge of the lake we came to the small town of Ensenada and stopped for lunch at Fogón Pucara restaurant, a place set up to cater to large groups located right down on the lake shore. The restaurant comprised several large, open function rooms constructed in wood with simple exposed beam ceilings – there was also a large prep kitchen and spit roasting meat area. A buffet area was off to one side with a long line of warm serving dished and an array of salads; several local families with small children running around were enjoying the buffet lunch – the place had a very welcoming feel to it, and we were guided to our area by staff that I’m sure were part of the family that owned the place.
We decided to take a table right by the huge windows looking out onto the lake; this turned out tobe a mistake as the sun as beginning to show itself and the area by the window became very not. A glass of cold Pisco Sour was waiting at each place setting and this helped to cool me off a bit, as did the local, chilled, Sauvignon Blanc. A large bowl of warm bread was delivered to the table, each piece was about the size and shape of a small bar of soap – I think it was deep fried, and the flavor reminded me of the Navajo Indian bread we once had on a road trip through northern Arizona and southern Utah. Next up a bowl of light green soup, and it tasted light green – if that’s an actual flavor. The meal was saved by the salmon, again served to our table so we realized we weren’t doing the buffet. Central Chile farms a large amount of salmon; it was introduced in the 19th century when fish farms were set up on Llanquihue Lake but, inevitably, thousands of salmon escaped from broken cages and a natural salmon population was established. The salmon we had today was quite possibly the best piece I’ve ever had; simply poached and served in a light butter it was incredibly moist, and jam packed with flavor.
During our lunch a couple of local teenagers arrived in traditional outfits and performed several Chilean dances; with waving napkins and stamping feet they circled each other like a couple of fighting bulls. Desert was a flan cake with bananas mixed in – they sure eat a lot of flan in south America; it was not to my taste and anyway I was stuffed full of salmon.
Escaping the heat of the dining room we took a walk down to the lake. A small stream separated the restaurant’s garden from the black volcanic beach, a slice of wood cut from a tree trunk had been laid across the stream and served as a wobbly, but effective, bridge. The water of the lake was quite calm, there were even a few brave swimmers off in the distance and I wondered just how cold the water was – given that it flowed down directly from snow covered mountains. The weather continued to improve, and patches of blue sky could even be seen braking through – though we still couldn’t see the elusive volcano.
Back on the road we continued going east toward the national park and along the way we got our first glimpse of the Osorno volcano; off to our left and rising above the tree line we could see the pyramidal shape of the mountain covered in snow and blanketed broken fluffy white clouds – it was awesome! On our right the Calbuco volcano remained hidden by the clouds but were happy to have finally seen Osorno.
The Vicente Pérez Rosales National Park is located on the eastern edge of the Andes Mountain range and along with the adjacent national parks provide a continuous protected area of close to 15,000 km2. Our guide explained US President Teddy Roosevelt was in part responsible for the national parks in this area; he visited in 1913 and started to convince the government to protect the wilderness. The main attraction in the national park, and the primary reason for our visit, was the Petrohue Falls (pronounced “Petro way”) and as we walked up the pathway towards the falls we could hear the tremendous rush of water over rocks. Rounding a bend an elevated walkway took us over a couple of small bridges and several extensions jutted out over the river. The falls are more like a series of rapids than a classic high waterfall, the river flows through steep vertical cuts in the black, volcanic, rock and explodes into downstream pools; I could feel the noise and rumble from the water deep vibrating in my chest.
Today was an excellent shore excursion, we can only hope that our other stops in Chile will be as good.
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