SOUTH AMERICA 2005 - PART 1

The trip was originally discussed around a year ago when my dad, who will be 60 in January, stated that he wanted a tour for his birthday in January 2006 around Montana and while discussing this he mentioned that the countries with skiing that he still wanted to visit were Chile and Argentina.

We had a look at a few brochures to check prices and resorts. I knew that Portillo and Valle Nevado were generally the only resorts that UK companies would take you to and frankly, two weeks at either was hardly appealing.

Mike Richards, whom my dad, brother and I had met at Big Mountain, Montana in 2000 and 2001 and I had skied with for a week in March 2004 in Utah is a regular visitor to South America. I suggested to my dad that perhaps a trip with Mike may be a better option. I contacted Mike and the wheels were in motion. Before I headed to the USA in March I booked our flights and left the organisation to Mike. All we had to do was turn up.

August 20th - The Wait is Over

Saturday the 20th August eventually arrived and our taxi took us into Aberdeen for the 1st of four flights to take us to Santiago. When booking the flights we were given various routes but cost and the thought of sitting in Paris for 10 hours dictated that we went Aberdeen-Heathrow-Barcelona-Madrid-Santiago. A fair take on but the 1st 3 flights were all fairly short with an hour or two between each before the 13 hour haul to Santiago.

A couple of beers in the bar at Heathrow while watching Gilette Soccer Saturday set me in the mood and the realisation that we were on holiday was now at the forefront of my mind. We landed bang on time in Barcelona in the midst of a thunder and lightening storm that lit up the night sky. Not thinking too much about it we headed to our gate for the final short flight to Madrid. Eventually we boarded our bus to the plane and got to our seats to be told in Spanish and then English that due to the storms they had no idea when we would takeoff. With 2 hours between flights I always feel that it gives you roughly 1 hour to play with. We did not have bags to collect but by the time you get through security and get to your gate any more of a delay and we are screwed. Eventually we took off and arrived with around 40 minutes until our flight was due to leave.

The majority of people on the Barcelona to Madrid plane are heading to connection flights to Mexico, Buenes Aires and Santiago and it was a complete surprise to me when we reached the security check that there was only one conveyor and one metal detector. Getting watches, belts, coins et al into the box and throwing jackets and hand luggage onto the belt was beyond a joke. Everyone was rushing, everyone was beeping and there was so much crap in the scanner that stuff could no longer go through. Absolute carnage but luckily we got through and we were on our way.

The long haul flight was an overnight affair and as someone who rarely sleeps I found the time to think about what I would offer on such a flight. Why on earth are the films so damn boring? They seem to be biased towards a much younger audience considering the vast majority on the flight were either older or asleep or in many cases both! Everyone's got their own ideas about what makes a good film but these wishy-washy films for me are no use for a captive audience. Either a rip-roaring comedy, shoot-em-up or a real thriller required.

August 21st - A Bumpy Start

At 7am on Sunday we were on our final descent into Santiago and the skies were clear and we were below the high peaks on either side of the plane. As we got closer to the city we disappeared into cloud which was so thick that you could barely see the end of the wing. Expecting to break through the cloud it came as a bit of a shock to me and many others, judging by the ooh's, aah's and eventually laughs, when we battered onto the runway. As my dad would say, 'it's a real pea soup'er' and visibility was nonexistent.

Immigration was not a problem and before long we were waiting for our bags, and waiting and waiting.... three missing bags and although I had my skis I had nothing else. In order to report missing baggage you obviously need to give the airline an address to forward them to and this is when our problems began. Waiting for Mike who was due to arrive at around 10am there was nothing we could do but wait. By 11am it was obvious that something was wrong and we took the decision to tell Iberia that we would call them once we found out where we were going to stay. I'm probably not explaining this well but in Santiago you pick up your bags and then go through customs and cant get back into the Iberian desk to tell them where you are staying. We headed upstairs and took a look around. We found a bar and had a couple of beers before going onto the internet to find that Mike's flight had been canceled and that we should head to the Marriott for the night.

The taxi journey was eventful and I chuckled at the 2 Chilean guys tying our skis onto a flimsy roof-rack that they had put on. The first attempt was hilarious as when he pulled the rope to secure the skis the whole roof-rack came off. Out came the screwdriver for an adjustment and after 10mins we were on our way. We narrowly missed taking out another car as we veered from lane to lane. I was extremely glad to get to the impressive looking Marriott.

We booked ourselves in for the night and paid an extra $20 per room to stay in the executive floors which gave you breakfast and also entry into the free bar which ran all day. My dad, aka George, tried the number Iberia had given him all afternoon with no success. It would be the next morning and only thanks to a Spanish speaking girl in the hotel reception who eventually, via Iberia's booking counter managed to get through to the lost baggage section and get our bags to the Marriott.

I snoozed for a while until Mike arrived at around 9pm and then we all headed down to the bar to catch up and decide what our plan of action was to be. Our options were to head north to Portillo et al or south to Termas. The decision for me was easy, we were not really interested in the well known South American resorts, so we decided that as soon as the bags arrived we would head south.

August 22nd - On the Road to Nowhere....

We awoke to a grey and miserable day in Santiago. Not knowing if and when our luggage would arrive we headed down for breakfast to meet up with George and Matt. George had been up since 6.30am and although he had got through to Iberia the person that dealt with lost luggage would not be in until 7am. After that, the phone just rang and rang. George's blood pressure was increasing and I had to remind him that it was pointless getting excited about it and that he should just go with the flow and it would sort itself out. Already I was remembering why I travel alone these days!

Mike called Rich from Snoventures to check on the current conditions on the ground. He was in La Parva as I recall and it was snowing. We were tempted but decided to check out car hire options and stick to our plan. We tried a few places, all of which range from expensive to extortionate, and eventually after our bags arrived we got a Nissan Pathfinder delivered to the Marriott. We had the car for one week.

We were on our way by 1pm and guessed that we would get to Las Trancas, a few kilometers from the resort of Termas de Chillan before dark.

The drive was entertaining to say the least and it took us ages to zigzag our way across the back streets of Santiago trying to find Route 5 South. There were cars everywhere and they simply do not give a damn about coming from lane to lane, even when you happen to be in the lane they are trying to enter. I think we were all silently happy to finally find 5 South and get on our way without a scratch on the paintwork.

To my surprise the main roads in Chile are straight dual-carriageway's with large hard shoulders. It did not take long to see what the hard shoulders were for. Horses, horse and carts, kids, people selling god knows what were common, and still funny sights along the road. Almost like the 21st meets the 19th century!

We had a few laughs as we passed people walking about in the middle of nowhere or the number of people in the bus stops that we seemed to pass every 100 yards. Where the hell were they all going on a miserable Monday night? The mortality rate on the roads must be extremely high as they wander on the wrong side and cycle without any lights. Our 4x4's lights were also seemed very high and almost every car flashed at us. Every now and then Mike and I would gamble on whether the next car would flash and occasionally get so annoyed that we would say, 'right, have a fucking blast of these you bastard' before blasting on the full-beams. It was only after our return to the UK that George found out that it is a custom in Patagonia(the area of Chile) to flash your headlights as a way of saying hi to fellow motorists. Ooooops!!!!

Anyone heading to Chile should note that if you drive you will require change(1500 roughly) for every toll on the motorway. There are a few of them and they seem to be for entry into each region of the country.

Another thing that we noticed immediately was the lack of signs. We eventually reached Chillan, a town of around 150000 people, and headed off the main road and onto a paved road for the final 80km drive to Las Trancas. There would be a sign saying straight ahead and then nothing when you got to a t-junction. By good luck or judgment we made it, passing a young lad juggling fireworks. Well worth watching at the traffic lights and if I had seen him again I would have dropped him a few pesos.

We arrived in Las Trancas in the dark and we stopped at a cabanas that Mike had stayed at last winter. For those like me that had no idea what a cabanas was, it is basically a cabin most of which are wooden structures. Unfortunately they were full and we headed to the Parador where we got a 2 bedroom cabanas. We rammed the heating on and headed out to a local restaurant, Oliva's, for a steak and some local wine. A nice feel to the place and a few tables taken for a Monday night. It did not take credit cards and luckily we had a few Peso's.

Back to the ranch we watched a little TV(3 channels) before heading to bed with the thought of our first days skiing in our minds.

August 23rd - Miss Sato Hakawa

We were up and about early on the Tuesday morning and Mike and George headed to the local shop for breakfast provisions.

The previous night we had noticed that there were cones across the access road to Termas de Chillan and we decided that we would wait until the road opened before heading out. It transpired that the cones were in actual fact just a warning for some major pot holes in the road so after loading the skis we were on our way.

Its a scenic road up to the resort that winds its way through the forest and we had one of our many gambles as to how many cars would be in the car-park. Suffice to say when we got there that there were less than 20 each day. I really had not done my homework before this trip and I was unsure as to what to expect from the resorts. I had visions of poor, small US type resorts with limited vertical and very little acreage. How wrong was I!

Termas is a massive mountain that boasts 9 lifts, 28 runs, 820m vertical and a staggering 10000ha(24710 acres). Consider that Vail, the largest single mountain in North America, has just 5289 acres! That puts it into perspective straight away. Anyone who claims to be bored with Termas after a week is clearly not looking, is not of a good enough standard or simply too lazy to climb a little.

We spent the early part of the day finding our feet on the upper two t-bars. Many of the pistes were being used by the various ski teams doing their summer training. We saw the Canadian, French, Italian, Andorran and Spanish teams. Most were young guys although a couple of Italian babes caught the attention in their skin tight suits.

From the top lift there is a famous trail, Las tres Marias, a 13km top to bottom run which we did laps on. Matt and George stuck to the groomers while Mike and I dived in and out of the piste. The slopes are rolling with plenty of small cornices to drop back towards the piste. Excellent photo opportunities amid the stunning scenery with 4-5 volcanos peppering the landscape.

We stopped for lunch in the cafeteria that offers a wide range of snacks. Hamburguesa completa or hamburguesa americano were the choice with some papa fritas. Burger and fries to the rest of us!

We skied until about 4.30 and headed to the day lodge for a cold beer to celebrate our 1st day's skiing in Chile. Cerveza negra, the Chilean equivalent of stout was very nice but my attempts at ordering a 2nd one saw us back onto the cheap and cheerful local lager. Did the trick for me.

Heading down to Las Trancas we decided to head to the supermarket to buy beer, wine, breakfast provisions and snacks for the evening. Crackers, cheese and salami with red wine were to become part of a ritual during the trip. On the way we passed a couple of the Canadian girls out jogging, very nice.

Another part of of routine was a South American talent show! It seemed to us that the 6pm show Rojo was a mix between Fame Academy, Blind Date, Big Brother and the Generation Game all rolled into one. We were gutted if we missed this and although we had little idea what was going on it was hilarious watching the Chilean equivalent of Ant and Dec pulling faces and generally mucking about. Looking at it now, it looks as though it is some sort of talent show between singers and dancers. My personal favorite was Stephanie Stevenson a 20yo from Venezuela....

Even stranger was Rojo VIP that seemed to be a contest between South American stars of yesteryear with the twist in this show that it was a mix between The Swan, Nip and Tuck and the others listed above! Weird to say the least.

The HBO movie channel was quality. Tonight's fare, On Edge(2001) was the sort of film that if you had the choice to turn over you would have. It turned out to be as funny a film as we had seen. Great laughs and way better than the reviews.

We headed out to the Snow Pub for our evening meal. The main reason was that we did not have cash and required somewhere that would take credit cards. We were the only people in the restaurant but again we had a nice meal and wine before heading back to HBO.

August 24th - Tiramisu Again?

We decided that the conditions were so good and the resort so large that we would spend another day at Termas.

Mike and I knew where it was at and left George and Matt for most of the day for lap after lap on Las tres Marias. We would occasionally catch up with them and get them to take some shots as we dropped from cornices into fresh, untracked snow(it had been many days since it had actually snowed). Highlight was Mike's double ejection as he dropped over one such cornice. Luckily his landing was soft amid the deep powder

Again we headed back to the lodge and grabbed a quick lunch before quickly heading back out for yet more laps. Mike and I skied right up to 5pm when the lifts closed and our final decent to the lodge took us to the right of the map as you look at it. Fairly steep, lightly treed lower down and chopped pow had my legs pounding by the time I was at the base. Gesticulating to my dad who was in the bar to get a couple of beers in, I was annoyed to find out that the bar closes before 5pm. Definitely something that they need to address as the top lifts close at 4.45pm and I would have felt that the bar could have done a nice bit of trade from guys like us who had skied hard from pillar to post and built up a real thirst.

So, we had to make do with a few beers from the supermarket along with our favorite wine, Santa Rita's 120. At $2650 a bottle, or a little over £2.50 this stuff was great. George, who likes a bargain, found a bottle at $1650 which I did not think was quite as nice but still better than most bottles back home in the £5-6 bracket.

Santa Rita makes a line of wines called 120, in honour of the 120 soldiers who had fled with General Bernardo O'Higgins in a skirmish with Spanish forces. Teaming up with an Argentinean general, O'Higgins returned with the 120 men, plus four or five thousand more and were victorious in further battles with the Spanish. In 1818, O'Higgins became the head of the new republic of Chile. You will see a lot of references to O'Higgins during a trip in Chile.

Another night with HBO we did not venture out, instead we made do with our cheese and wine evening in the knowledge that we had an early start on Thursday as we headed further south.

25th August - I Know a Shortcut Mike....

As we loaded the car which we now had down to a fine art it was sad to be leaving Termas behind as conditions had been superb and we had barely scratched the surface of the mountain but thats part and parcel of any tour of ski resorts.

Our next destination was Antuco that is just 60km south of Termas but unfortunately thats for the crows and for us it was a good 300km journey back to Chillan, south to Los Angeles and then east to the mountain.

This on good roads was an easy 3 hour drive, or so we thought, as we headed off back to Chillan. Mike asked if there were any shortcuts and after working it all out I thought that we could head to Chillan and then instead of going to LA we could head inland from Cabrero to Huepil and then onto Antuco, saving I guessed about 60km.

We turned off the road and followed what appeared to be a sign and landed going up a single track bumpy road for a couple of miles before being turned back by a guy cutting trees. God knows where that road went, but back we went and followed his instructions. The 1st section of the road was OK until we got to Huepil but after that it turned into a dirt track with roadworks! It was funny as anything passing through towns and having everyone staring as though they had never seen a car before.

I joked that we might have been better taking the train(there was a narrow gauge track running beside the road) and we had a right laugh a few miles later when the track suddenly stopped. We had all the usual jokes about rocks on the line and the like.

We eventually reached a check-point which seemed to be for either the big factory or for the national park. We stopped and were promptly waved on. It was so funny after taking this shortcut through mile after mile of pot-holed dirt track roads that we reached the point where the road merged onto a fully tarred road from LA. We knew which way to go home!

Not long after the merge we were quickly back on the dirt and the climb up to Antuco. You have to pay to enter the Laguna de la Laja National Park and the guy told us that we could ski.

When we arrived at the mountain it was obvious that there was no lifts running. Disappointed, the decision was made that we would take some pictures and be on our way again. Personally, if I had been alone I would have got my skis out and climbed the liftline to say I had skied the mountain, but as a group that would not have been fair on everyone else.

The base area at Antuco looked like a mixture between a US ghost town from the gold panning times and a ski resort in Kazakhstan. Old buildings with smashed windows in dire need of a lick of paint. Weird place with lots of kids sledging.

One of the funniest moments of the tour came here too. It was blowing a gale and George in his enthusiasm to take a few photos lost grip of his bubble-wrap bag that he keeps his camera in. Mike and I were in stitches at his attempts to put his foot on the bag as he ran uphill. Eventually it was caught and we were back on the road.

Its around 3 hours drive from Antuco back to LA then south to Victoria and then inland again to Lonquimay where we would base ourselves for a day or two. 80's music on the stereo passed the time and it must have been around 5.30pm when we passed thru Malalcahuello and took a look up the access road to Corralco Ski Area which is often named Lonquimay as it sits on the side of the volcano by the same name.

Passing through the monkey puzzle trees we made decent progress up the access road until the snow began to come down hard and was drifting all over the road. We ground to a halt when we got caught behind a truck that was reversing out after getting stuck. Telling George to sit tight I jumped out to push and guide Mike back down the single track road. After 5 minutes we were able to turn but I was cold, wet and miserable. I needed a whisky!

We took a look to the impressive Malalcahuello Hotel and thermal baths. The dining room had a coach load but there did not seem to be anyone staying. At $120000 a night(£120 for 4) this was hardly surprising. We had been paying about £30 a night for 4 everywhere else so we headed down to the village and eventually stumbled into the Ruca Pehuen cabanas. This would become known as Cloggies after the NE Scotland word for sticks which was one of a few NE words that Mike picked up.

A visit to the local shop was called for to get some supplies. This was a trip back in time. It made me think of what a local shop in Scotland would have looked like in the 1900's with just one or two things on the shelves. With little Spanish and a old woman who spoke no English we were able to get 3x1lt cartons of 120 wine, 8 bread rolls out of a potato sack, cheese, ham, biscuits, coke, chocolate and the like for the pricey sum of £7. She had no change so we just bought more to make it a round figure
Amazing value!

We returned to the hotel for dinner and had a very nice meal and the only girl at the bar was giving me the eye the whole time we were there. Mike seemed to think she was looking at him but without his glasses he was lucky to make her out never mind where she was looking. Back down to Cloggies we battened down the hatches for a windy night. One good thing was that he had a TV with tons of channels. Sometimes thats not a great thing though and finding a film we were happy with proved troublesome.

August 26th - Just Like Home

Patagonia is renowned as an area for its high winds and rain and as we awoke early in the morning in our icebox cabin the wind was whistling under the door and through the single glazed windows.

Mike had tried to keep the fire going as much through the night as possible but as we later worked out both he and George were not up to this particular task! By 8.30 and the rain tipping down our host arrived with a wheelbarrow of soaking wet 'cloggies' and as such he and our cabanas will forever be remembered by that name. Great memories.

Anyway, having been up the access road to Corralco the previous night it was obvious that a return journey would be a waste of our time. Many resorts in South America make no effort to open if the wind is blowing and road clearing seems to be a little bit of an after thought. We made the collective decision that there was no chance of skiing today and we would head to the town of Lonquimay to get cash, internet access and fill the 4x4 with much needed juice.

The road from Malalcahuello to Lonquimay takes you through the longest tunnel in South America. The Tunel Las Raices is a single track tunnel with a length of 4538m which was completed in 1929 and is undergoing roadworks which had brought the traffic lights down. Just like the A96 a mile from my house I chuckled to myself as we waited.

By the time we got to Longuimay the rain was absolutely battering down and after finding gas we decided to take a look up the road to Los Arenales, a small resort of some 300m vertical and 500 acres. As we began to gain altitude we reached the snow-line and the road became more of a river. With so much ice, mud and water on the track I was becoming a little concerned, after yesterdays efforts, that I may have to get out of the car and push. I was glad when we decided to turn around. Mike and I wondered if and when it would ever be possible to get up that road to ski.

After checking e-mails and conditions throughout South America we headed back to cloggies to watch the Liverpool v CSKA match that was starting on TV at 2.30. George and Mike's lame attempts at fire lighting could easily have been a dub from a gay German porn film with Mike constantly asking 'is it worth me giving it a blow George?'

Damn, the Super Cup is pay-per-view TV so its another afternoon of HBO and I take over the fire. Using the technique of piling the damp clogs on top of the fire to dry I clearly show the old guys how its done and for the 1st time in the cabin we are warm. We again headed up to the hotel for dinner and apart from the manger and his guests we were the only people there. Gordon Ramsey would have thrown a wobbler that a place of that quality was empty. Another enjoyable meal but no sign of my admirer from the previous night.

August 27th - Groundhog Day

We had watched the film during the trip and it really was in danger of becoming that for us as we awoke on Saturday morning. The wind and rain had been replaced by a little bit of snow outside our cabin but we knew that realistically it would be days before we would get skiing at Corralco. We had discussed over dinner that our best bet would be to move on and it was a little sad to pack up the car and leave cloggies knowing that some of the best skiing on the planet was only a mile or two away but there was no way of getting there or finding the lifts running if we did.

Our decision was to head to Puerto Montt which is the furthest south you can travel by road in Chile from Santiago. It was around 5 hours drive from Malalcahuello and our aim was two fold. We wanted to sort out our car hire and also find somewhere to ski.

The car hire, of which there is much more to come, is a strange affair in Chile and Argentina. Originally, due to it costing $200US to take a hired car into Argentina and not having firm plans we had only hired it for one week with the thinking being that we may take a bus into Argentina and then hire a car there. In Chile, unlike the USA, you cannot just call the rental company and say you want it for longer. They insist on viewing the car before agreeing to an extension so it was either all the way back to Santiago or down to Puerto Montt. Only one option and we were on our way.

The long journey south was pretty boring in terms of scenery but the horses and carts always raised a laugh or two and Mike and I settled for a selection of 80's music channels. My lame efforts at naming songs and artists were embarrassingly poor at times but I had the excuse that I am not old enough to really remember most of them unlike other passengers in the car!

We headed to Puerto Montt airport which on arrival was strangely modern to meet the Alamo guy to extend the rental and get permission to head into Argentina. Nothing to do with car rental in Chile seems to be easy and it turned out that it would take 48 hours to get the necessary documentation to allow entry into Argentina.

So far south in Chile we had only two options for skiing. I had hand written two ski resorts onto my map. Antillanca, 100km east of Osorno and La Burbuja were our choice for the next couple of days. I had spoken on the journey south about La Burbuja and how I wanted to ski there if possible as it sounded like a small unknown place.

After a few wrong turns in Puerto Montt, which we all agreed was an absolute dump, we eventually found our way north to Puerto Varas and the road to Volcan Osorno which we were told had skiing. The road took us past the Lago Llanquihue, the second biggest lake in Chile, and it was clear that this was a holiday destination during the summer months for rich Chileans. Very nice area I would imagine during the summer.

Eventually we found the access road and started uphill with the volcano completely out of sight in the mist and cloud. Mike questioned how a volcano nowhere near Osorno could take that name and also how poor it was the the Alamo rep did not know there was skiing there.

The Z-bends eventually gave way to snow and ice and combined with the volcanic ground it was like driving the 4x4 on the moon. We really had no idea where the road was and it was a little surprising when we eventually found the day lodge and even more surprising was that the lodge was open.

The guy in the lodge spoke perfect English and was able to tell us that although it was snowing that conditions on the mountain were not good and the chances of skiing tomorrow were unlikely. It was beginning to become a bit of a nightmare and was looking as though in the first 9 days in Chile we might manage just 2 days skiing as we had to wait until Monday to get into Argentina. Anyway, a cup of hot chocolate and a piece of apple strudel revived us a little and after grabbing a 'Mapa de Pistas' we headed on towards Antillanca. It turns out that La Burbuja and Volcan Osorno are one and the same place.

Another one of my short cuts took us onto another forestry track and it was dark and after 9pm when we rolled into Entre Lagos(Entry to the lakes). Not knowing the town, cold and tired we stopped at the San Sebastian and inquired about rooms. This place will forever be remembered as an absolute dump. The room was out the back of the restaurant and the smell from the room hit us all as we went in. One bedroom for George and 2 bunks and a single in the other for Mike, Matt and I. No space and an old gas heater. At £5 each per night this place was overpriced!

We ate in the restaurant and as a very light sleeper I was worried that I would not get any as a band was thumping drums next door. Mike was knackered and headed off to bed, quickly followed by Matt. I fancied a nightcap and had a look behind the bar but could not see anything so 'uno mas por favor' was the request and another bottle of wine promptly arrived. Before hitting the sack George and I had a couple of local 'mint flavoured and looked like mouthwash' cocktails. 3 bottles of wine and a couple of cocktails were enough to knock me out for the night.

August 28th - Back in Business

We awoke in our plush apartment and decided that none of us was willing to test the shower. Mike had been up through the night and luckily for us saw the gas heater go out with a pop. Who knows what would have happened if he had not switched it off but at least we can look back and laugh at our lucky escape at the Entre Lagos Hilton. Were still amazed that non of us were unwell after our night there and what the hell was the smell? When I worked in Peterhead's TSB I used to interview guys from the fish markets and the smell was very similar to the smell that used come off of them. George thought it was like moth balls and Mike I think that it was just damp.

The funniest thing as we packed up was that between our door and the back door of the restaurant we were covered by corrugated iron. Under that was a clothes line and a lady was out in the pouring rain and damp hanging more out. We joked for the rest of the holiday that the washing would never dry in there. A picture tells a thousand words in this case.

Antillanca was just 60km from Entre Lagos and we got to the resort midmorning to the delightful sight of a foot of fresh, cars buried and the lifts were running!!!

Antillanca had a real resort feel to it and we noticed in the office that they seemed to offer packages for eat, ski and stay. For around £60 a night per twin room you got dinner, bed and breakfast so we decided that we would stay for two nights. Quickly getting our kit up to our room I headed to get our tickets and met everyone beside the lower lifts.

Only the t-bar from the base and the t-bar to the left of the map were operating so we headed to the top. It was an absolute 'pea-souper' and we were almost the only guys using the lift which meant that all the fresh snow was ours. However it was impossible and George, Matt and I were all over the shop. You just could not see a thing, what you were skiing on, whether you were moving and if so how fast and in what direction. Hopeless springs to mind. It was not long before George had had enough. His glasses, that tint in cold snowy weather, along with goggles are hopeless in this conditions and he had tweaked a knee.

The lower lift offered a lot of opportunities to traverse across from the top and access fresh lines all day. It was on our first adventure out under the chair that I had my biggest and most spectacular fall of the holiday. Visibility was good enough to put in large, fast GS turns and I was gaining a fair bit of speed when I lost control and battered my knee, head, back and arm. Once I picked myself up I realised that unknown to me there was a cat track running right across the piste which I had dropped 2ft onto. But I live to fight another day!

At one stage the light improved enough to see what you were doing and we had a couple of blasts down from the top of the 2nd t-bar. Nobody was using the 2nd lift and at about 12.30 it was closed. All of a sudden we could only do laps on the lift from the base which although fun, did not have the same conditions as the upper one. It later turned out that it was closed for lunch and it was almost 2pm before he came back.

Half way up the lower lift a liftie sat in the cold all day. It was later before we realised that you could load there which gave you access to the face under the chair without having to go right to the bottom. A couple of runs to the base threw the trees brought us a telling off from the liftie. 1st time we thought he meant not to ski the chair lift-line as there were kids sledging. 2nd time we worked out that you cannot ski trees in Antillanca at all as they seem to be protected. Mike was gutted as that is his favorite skiing.

We skied on to after 4pm before giving up and heading to the Patagonia Pub for a beer. Having not had anything to eat all day we decided to have a burger. George and I had a hot dog and Mike went with the burger. It was certainly different and had so many different ingredients that it was a meal in itself.

A quick shower, snooze and a listen to some of Mike's tunes and we were ready for dinner. The restaurant was a strange place in many ways. It had a really elegant and professional feel with 2-3 waiters serving the wine and drinks with the food in a cafeteria style. Help yourself to salad and pudding and then you have the choice of two main courses and soup. Very nice and good value for money.

August 29th - Deserted

After a comfortable night in the hotel we needed to find out whether or not the document for the rental car was ready and whether they could fax it to us as Puerto Montt was a good 5 hour round trip. After a lot of mucking around we were told that it would not be ready until 2pm Tuesday and we would have to pick it up.

Breakfast in the hotel is the normal continental affair and set us up for a day on the slopes. We could see from the window, or rather could not see, that visibility was limited again and we hoped that they would open the chair. At one stage they teased us by turning it on but almost as quick it was turned off again.

The skiing was as good as yesterday and it was spooky when George claimed at lunchtime that the crows in the trees were quiet and that meant the sun would come out at 3pm. Lunch in the hotel was not part of the deal but for £5 you got another 4 course meal. Excellent value again.

We laughed when at almost bang on 3pm and after a lot of sceptical comments from us the sun began to come through the clouds. Although not bluebird it was enough to allow us to see what we were doing and that we were the only people skiing the upper lift. Between crows, locals and god knows what George managed to predict the weather quite well over the trip. His 'its brightening up' comments always brought a laugh when the rain was lashing down or when you could not see your feet in the mist.

During this bright spell myself and Mike spotted the most amazing rainbow. The lightly drifting snow at the top of the t-bar when we approached the top created a rainbow in the shape of a McDonalds M. Luckily I managed to get a picture of that and although its never the same as being there it certainly reminds me of that moment and will stick in my mind for a long time to come.

We dropped the cornice off the top lift and cranked in some wide turns. Magnificent stuff and for people who say that 'such and such a resort does not have enough to keep me entertained' should note that we rode a t-bar with maybe 1000ft vertical for 3 days solid and never got bored. South America at its best.

Again we had our evening meal in the hotel and finished off with a port in the bar. George had what seemed to be half the bottle of brandy poured into his glass although I am certain that the port had been on the shelf for longer than the cask. We agreed that Mike would leave at lunchtime and head down to Puerto Montt for the documentation and pick us up at 6pm after we skied all day as the border was just east of Antillanca.

We headed to our beds having had 4 days of powder and fresh lines every day in the knowledge that with nobody here we would make it 5.

August 30th - Osorno, you go to Osorno!

George had spoken to the crows but Mike and I preferred the more traditional internet method and we had a feeling that Tuesday may be the bluebird day. Snow and wind had blown the tracks in so we knew that we would have fresh tracks all day.

Mike was absolutely stoked when he poked his head out of the curtains to see the bright blue skies. Mike was disappearing at lunchtime to collect the paperwork from Puorto Montt and was desperate to get a good half day in so by 9am we had the car packed, rooms paid, breakfast and Mike and I were on the t-bar with only one person in front.

We had sat in the restaurant and picked our lines off the top of the upper t-bar and after fastening our boots we skirted along the top of the cornice and into the wide open face. Large GS turns at high speed in boot deep powder, Mike and I belted back to the base to take the two lifts back to the top. Our tracks looked superb from the distance and were still there at the end of the day. Priceless.

The majority of the morning was spent doing laps on the upper t-bar and we had it down to 8 minutes per lap. Great stuff. From there you could ski either side of the lift line or blast from the top and across towards the t-bar in the centre of the piste map. We put in a couple of super 8's although my 1st effort was far from super and I bailed out when I got thrown onto the back of my skis on a steeper section.

We hadn't had any great need to hike in the previous week but Mike and myself felt that for an easy hike the views and open, untracked skiing would be well worth the sweat and we were not to be disappointed. We picked our lines but I headed too far out and landed in a flatter section than I had wanted but the turns were sensational. We still had time for a few more 8 minute laps before we headed to the base so that Mike could head down to Puerto Montt. Great skiing.

With Mike on his way and lunch over I decided that I would ski a couple of runs with George and Matt, who due to lack of practise, confidence and equipment rarely venture far off the piste. I knew that by heading off to the left of the upper t-bar that you could go right out on an easy off-piste section before traversing home if need be. Although I hit my obligatory rocks George and Matt got down unscathed and I think they enjoyed seeing the different scenery and the type of skiing that I now crave.

Lap after lap I skied different fresh lines and at one stage the local instructors, lifties and I all seemed to be competing on one section to put in perfect powder turns. Don't know about perfect but they were certainly fun. It was also a nice change to have someone to take some pictures and video of me putting in some turns and this time I nailed my 8's.:

I went right through to 5pm before heading to the bar for a couple of beers and got caught out when Mike arrived back an hour ahead of when I thought he might appear. Skis loaded, we were on our way to Argentina.

The border was less than an hour away but in Chile its dark by 7pm so we knew that we would have to search for a cabanas in the dark again. We rolled up to the border just before 7pm and to say its a strange affair is putting it mildly. Job creation gone crazy.

1st up you stop 100m from the border control to get a ticket saying how many people are in the car. Next you park up and go to the International Police counter to get your passport stamped. That was a formality and next it was the vehicle check and normally then the customs. Unfortunately for us we did not get to customs....

On handing over our car documentation(rental document, license and authority to go to Argentina) you could tell that something was amiss. 'International' and 'Osorno' were the only words that I could work out but what international meant god only knows. She got a gentleman that spoke English to come over and explain that we would be turned back at the Argentinean border as we did not have insurance specifically for Argentina and this is now required on all vehicles coming from Chile. Rather than risking a night between the 2 border stations(if we had risked going further the Chile border control would have been closed on our return) and although extremely annoyed that Alamo had neglected to tell us the requirements for insurance we only had one option and that was to head back into Chile to get insurance. Osorno being the town we had to visit.

All I could think about was having to go back to the San Sebastian! Luckily, after having a look round Entre Lagos again we found La Valenciana. Nice lakeside cabins. After booking in for the night we noticed that the guy offered car hire. Mike and I speak very little Spanish, he speaks no English but between us we manage to get the address of two insurance companies in Osorno that will give us what we need. A car hire company tells you nothing yet a cabin owner in the middle of nowhere knows exactly what we need. Something not quite right there?

Anyway, our host pointed us in the direction of Entre Lagos for our evening meal but on the way we passed the now infamous El Rancho de Pancho. That'll do us we agreed and into the totally empty cabin we went. Rancho did not speak English but he was typically welcoming and brought a laugh when he cut a wine cork to stabilise the wobbly table. With hand signals we worked out that the floor was not even as it was built on a slope towards the lake.

Anyway, we ordered our Lomo(fillet steak) and chewed the fat about the days events until our steak arrived. To say it was the greatest steak I have ever had is putting it down. It was simply out of this world. The food, wine and company helped to raise the spirits somewhat.

Not often one for pudding and not having a clue what Rancho was offering us we required the translation skills of a German that had come in to tell us that there were pancakes. We all had some and it was funny to see Ranchos poor wife have to get back on her feet from her table to cook them from scratch. They arrived and we were half finished them by the time Rancho arrived with a ladle of flaming brandy. His attempts at spooning it onto plates brought giggles from Matt as the tablecloth went up in flames from splashes of brandy.

Great memories and fate, although we did not think so at the time, had shone very brightly on us today. Three Scots and a Welshman will never forget our night at El Rancho de Pancho.

This article was written by Quintin Chalmers, a 30-year-old skier from Aberdeen in the north of
Scotland. Quintin has skied at over 50 North American resorts and is in the process of setting up
www.offthebeatenpath.co.uk designed to help like minded people find the best turns in some of the
more unusual resorts in western USA. He has over 20 years skiing experience and enjoys nothing
more than seeing new places that many people write off as being not worth the hassle.