Chiloe Island
Chile
Chiloe, the second largest island in Chile, was a dramatic change of scenery for us. Gone were the snowy mountains, volcanoes and glacial lakes, now replaced with rolling green hills, rocky coastlines and colourful wooden buildings. It was going to be bizarre to be sightseeing rather than hiking for a couple of days.
Our first stop was the capital of Chiloe, Ancud, which was more like a sleepy town than a city. A compact handicrafts market, devoid of customers, was set up on centre square. The nearby San Antonio Fort offered nothing more than a few cannons pointing out over the water. There wasn’t much else worth hanging around for.
Duhatao was well and truly off the tourist trail, located at the end of a long gravel road. We parked by a river mouth and walked along its dark, sandy shore to a shallow cove surrounded by short, rocky peaks. Climbing up one of these peaks allowed us to reach the coastline on the other side, where the ocean was flowing into a craggy inlet. Here we had fun scrambling over the rocks to view the scenery from various angles. On one side we discovered a cave that led out to another section of shore, its rocks covered in slimy seaweed. We loved exploring the area and couldn't believe it wasn't mentioned more online.
Chiloe's most famous sights are its UNESCO-listed wooden churches. The majority were built in the 19th century by the Jesuits, using local timber. There are more than 60 across Chiloe and its neighbouring island, Quinchao. We toured around to several of these churches, half of which were closed when we arrived. They came in a variety of colours (although many were just plain old brown) and several were adorned with shingles. The ones we did enter reminded me of the inside of a ship, and I learnt later that their construction was influenced by the boat-building techniques of the indigenous people. In general they weren't particularly exciting, but it was a good way to see the island and its tiny coastal villages.
We stayed in the central city of Castro, which was much more lively then Ancud. Colourful houses abounded, many embellished with the shingles that were popular in this region. Along the water were brightly painted stilt houses that looked like they would blow over if a strong guest of wind came through. It was a great place to base ourselves for a couple of days, with numerous restaurants and, for Danny, the best wine store he had discovered so far in Chile.
Driving out to the western coast, we set our sights on the Muelle de las Almas (Weapons Dock), which promised a viewpoint out to sea. The online photos showed a wooden boardwalk that appeared to stretch out beyond the edge of the cliffs. Instead, what we found after a 30-minute walk along a dirt track, was a short ramp in the middle of a hill nowhere near the ocean. It did face the water, but it wasn't a spectacular view. If you took a photo on the right angle, though, you could make it look more impressive than it actually was. Later on I discovered an almost hidden side trail that offered a better outlook along the shore, even though it was partially obstructed by the side of the mountain.
The only real hiking I did on Chiloe was the Huentemo - Cole Cole trail, extending along the coast between 2 beaches. It started out on soft brown sand, with small waves crashing far away from the trail. After crossing through a small field with free-roaming cows, I ended up on a monotonous unpaved road going directly up a hill, passing by untethered horses, sheep and dogs. Occasionally there was a break in the unruly vegetation lining the street, giving me glimpses of the water, but most of the viewpoints were overgrown.
Finally the road narrowed into a track running through a dense forest. Again the views were few and far between, but when they appeared I was provided an excellent outlook along the rocky shore. Towards the end of the trail the trees gave way to an open field, from where there would have been a great shot of Cole Cole beach if the hazy clouds had disappeared. Due to time constraints I didn't venture all the way down to the sand, instead returning the way I came to commence the long drive back to the mainland.
