Disembark at
Puerto Chcabuco, Chile/Carlos Pueblo
The ship
pushed through the Chilean inner sea whole night and landed
at Puerto
Chacabuco of the next Aysen Province, the famous entrance of
Laguna San
Rafael National Park, of course, I didn’t dare to make such
adventure of
expensive cruise land excursion. I did have my own regular
experience
of walking toward the old town, watching a soccer match, and
even accompanied
a new acquaintance to a next city on bus.
It was on
Sunday and no wonder most of the streets were empty except
a few grocery
stores were open for the visitors from the cruise for something
like WiFi
connection and some needed supply. I found my toilet location on
a busy
highway toward north, a gas station. Some cruise passengers did walk
toward the
north and I followed. There was a bay on the left and small hill on
the right
with some single dwelling spread around with a pile of log for fire
place which
I assumed that the winter was near. I did see a small frame house
on the bay
with several aged fishing boats near the end of wood stack connected
to the
house. The house had smoke out of the chimney obviously there were
people
living in it. It was a nice, quiet, and narrowed bay for the residents to be
in and out
for fishing.
I was
attracted to a local soccer game on the way. The small soccer field seemed
to be a
newly built facility with a good size of shower room for the players. I found
a front seat
at the front of a huge observing stand. Both teams were from two
different
cities and appeared to be at a soccer season match. At the half time break,
I walked out
of the field and resumed my leisure walking toward the north. I found
a fishery
laboratory on the bay side for an University, then I saw a couple turning
around and
indicated that they had no idea of the further distance to be. I did
follow and
return to the second half of the soccer match. There was more audience
and some
vehicles parked in front of the entrance. It began to drip from the cloudy sky.
On my way
back to the dock, I ran into Lucia of the Brazilian met at the check in room
of
Valparaiso, Chile. She was back to the ship and lost her group to the next city
of
Coyhaique.
She asked me to join her and I agreed. She stopped a small bus returning
to Coyhaique.
Her deceased husband was a Chilean; therefore, she was in good command
of Spanish.
The bus driver was very kind to guide us to the significant scenery along the
beautiful
road, of course, she translated to me accordingly. We stopped in the front of
a restaurant
which was her favorite. We could enter, yet it was full and we couldn’t order.
I’ll
continue on the next for an interesting visit of the town and also ran into a
pretty
program director,
Sandra, at a Japanese restaurant while we drank a Japanese beer.
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