And out to sea we go...

On all my travels I never fail to find some connection to dear old Blighty.  A Saturday afternoon visit to Talcahuano, a nearby town, proved to be no exception to this as I found myself stood on a boat, floating in the Pacific Ocean, which had been used in the war between Peru and Chile in the 1800s, and had been constructed in none other than.... Birkenhead!  I am constantly learning more about my own country while discovering about the lives of others on this planet, which is pretty damn cool if you ask me.

The journey to such a wondrous piece of craftsmanship was not as easy as one originally thought, due to the "trusty" Lonely Planet giving us details of the correct bus route but the wrong direction.  We only realised when, being the only two lone soldiers left on the bus, the driver asked us where we were headed, as he had reached the end of the line!  Luckily he turned straight back round to do the opposite route after a flip of his sign and let us stay on free of charge, so not money, but yes time, was lost.  We did get a free tour of the surrounding villages I guess.

When we finally arrived and were checked over by the officials, we were given directions to the boat.  Now I haven't visited a whole load of boats in my life, but I'm pretty sure that the ones I have been lucky to look round have all been tied up to the shore.  The Chileans, it seems, want to give you the real sailing experience and therefore, the boat was anchored a good twenty feet from the deck. "How did you get across?", you ask.  Not with a dingy.  Not with a snorkel and flippers.  No, no.  We all climbed down a rickety ladder to a makeshift raft, guided to the ship by only two ropes, attached to which were two strapping young sailors hauling us along to our destination.  I wonder if that was the "sailing" they had in mind when they signed up to the Chilean navy.  Health and Safety in the UK would have had a fit, especially with the young children running around, but I thought it was a novel way to travel and I thoroughly enjoyed it.

The ship itself was actually rather morbid.  There were plaques marking every single place a sailor fell in the battles, including the formidable Arturo Prat, whose name adorns many a sign and street in this fair country, and until that moment I had no idea as to why.  He was a lawyer and navy officer who fought until his dying day on the Huáscar, this ship.  There were many items concerning him and his life on board, including a letter written to his wife with the news of his death, and her touching response, thanking the officer for his kind words and commemorating the work that her husband had done for his country.

Below deck we got to see how they lived, where they ate, and even how they loaded the bombs into the cannon in battle.  To help illustrate these activities, life-size models were used.  I can't help thinking that the artist got his inspiration for the facial hair from a certain Bradley Wiggins...




It was a great day out and you really got a sense of what life would have been like on board.  I would recommend a visit to El Huáscar to anyone in the area.  At just 1000 pesos it's real value for money, and there's frequent buses marked "Base Naval" that you can get from Calle O'Higgins, (NOT SAN MARTIN!!) Concepción.

And off to the beach we go...

It seems that Concepción is going through the change of the seasons, meaning that as we head into Springtime the weather is getting warmer and we are seeing more and more clear blue skies!  This makes one very happy Karina!

So what better idea than to head to the beach?!  In Concepción we are blessed to be only thirty minutes away from a beach, and we have a selection to choose from.

With three friends I headed to Ramuntcho, a beautiful little cove surrounded by woods.  It's situated on the Pacific Coast, which means that the water is clear and blue, but very very cold!  Needless to say I didn't bathe in those waters.  I didn't even dare dip a toe in!  I think I will save that experience for when we are in Summertime, when the air temperature will hopefully be slightly more agreeable after plunging into the icy blue depths of the Pacific.

Apparently this beach is a hotspot in the summer months as people go to camp over night and sit round a bonfire soaking up the scenery.  I can't wait to give that a go.  I can tell it will be magical!

After lazing on the beach and doing cartwheels we headed off on the hour-long trek to the neighbouring beach of Lenga.  It's a windy trail that leads you up and down along the coastline, with some spectacular views along the way.  To give a gauge of just how beautiful it is, there was even a film crew using it as their location for their latest movie.  Half way through we came across a part with a log bridge, and I just couldn't resist re-enacting the scene in Dirty Dancing when they dance to "Hey Baby" on the log.  Sad but fun!

On arrival in Lenga, we went in search of Empanadas de Marisco as they are supposed to be the tastiest around.  We bought a mixture of mussel and cheese filled ones at a cost £5 for a dozen.  We sat and ate them on the sea wall, listening to the waves and watching the seagulls swooping to and fro.  It was at that point that I decided Empanadas de Marisco are the equivalent of our fish and chip supper by the sea.  They are almost as yummy too, and definitely equally naughty for the waistline!

And the search for sea lions took place...

One day in the holidays we travelled from Chillán, a shopping town in the Bío Bío district, to a place called Cobquecura.  This particularly sleepy town on the pacific coast is famed for it resident sea lions, and so we decided it was definitely worth a look.

The three hour bus ride cost the equivalent of £2.50, and if this price wasn't cheap enough, the beautiful views that dazzled us as we wound our way through hills, fields and woods to the coast meant that we really got our money's worth.  Priceless!

When we arrived, we were confronted with the dangerous situation in which our geographical location left us.  Walking up the road towards the deep blue sea, we came across sign after sign signalling that this beautiful, passive place could turn into a tsunami risk area and it really took me by surprise.  After a slight internal panic, I resulted to the "when in Rome" mentality and decided only to run for the hills when the locals did so.  As no one in the shops seemed particularly pressed to leave their daily routine, and we had heard no news of an earthquake on the radio blaring from the bus, we headed in search of Lobos Marinos at their home, a rock called La Lobería.

We found said rock with certain facility, but our search for the creatures was to no avail.  We soon began to feel dejected, wondering if this excursion had been for nothing.

All of a sudden, I was convinced that I had seen a sea lion thrashing around on the beach!  Poor Claire had to give me a "pitty pat" and advise me that it was nothing more than a small child playing in the sand...Oh the shame hehe!

After staring at the large rock for what seemed like an eternity as the waves crashed against its jagged edges, finally what I can only describe as "the daddy bear" raised his magnificent head and gave a large honk.  Immediately the rock sprang to life and mummies and babies were squirming all over the place.  It turns out they were so well camouflaged; we had no idea that we had been staring at hundreds of sea lions for about twenty minutes before we realised.  From that point on it really was a magical sight to take in.

I know I will never forget that day for the rest of my life.

And so the town celebrations start....the parade

The town came alive at the arrival of the dieciocho.  By 11am the majority of the residents had turned out for the celebrations.  Hordes of people gathered on and around the newly erected stands in the main street, which had been closed off to traffic.  All ears were focussed on the annual Mayor's speech.  The Mayor of Peumo was coming to the end of his term in office, and you could definitely sense his sadness and the passion he possessed for his beloved town.  His speech ended on this touch, and a little over the top, piece of advice: "Remember the most important and best thing in the world, our town Peumo!"

My favourite part of the proceedings was after the performance of the very talented professional Cueca dancers.  The Mayor and other members of the town council were invited to take to the floor, in a very Strictly Come Dancing-esque way, and joined their professional partner to  show of their skills!  I can't ever imagine that happening in the UK.  Although, come to think of it, I could see Boris Johnson having a bash at Morris dancing, jingly bells round his ankles and all!

Then came the turn of the school children of the town to parade before us in their smart uniforms.  My goodness there were a lot of them, especially for such a small town!  Each school had flag-bearers carrying their school crest.  One pupil carried the flag pole itself and two others took charge of two strings which were attached to each side of the pole.  It is a privilege to be elected flag bearer, and this is usually done on the grounds of excellent grades and attendance.  

What I found particularly interesting was the school uniforms worn here in Chile.  This country is so far from my own, yet their uniforms are practically identical.  I have been told that this is due to a period in Chilean history when the school system used the British system as its model.  I wonder what other similarities there are between the British system and that of Chile.

Not all children were dressed in uniform, however.  Some, especially the youngest generation, were adorned with their national dress.  The boys wear the costume associated with "Huasos", the Chilean cowboy, and the girls a coquettish dress, with flowers woven into their braided hair.  In this attire they are referred to as "Chinas".  Dressing up in this way is traditional when you are young, and Isaac's father showed us pictures of his children doing the very same thing at around 5 years old.  You could tell he was very proud of them.  An interesting fact about the straw hat the boys wear is that the thinner the plaited strips of straw are that make up the hat, the more expensive it costs.  Some of the youngsters walked hand in hand, others rode side-saddle with their fathers.  The excitement proved a little too much for this wee one,  fast asleep throughout his big moment!

An extremely admirable part of the parade came in the form of the men and women that volunteered on a regular basis at the local hospital.  The crowd cheered and clapped as they passed, acknowledging and thanking them for the hard work and commitment they showed in helping the community.  Recognition was also given to the brave fire fighters and ambulance crew that served the town.  I can imagine that they have worked extremely hard over the last couple of years what with 2010 earthquake.  I had got a little worried that there had been an accident when I heard the blaring sirens, but all became clear when a cute little fire engine dressed up to the nines in red, white and blue ribbons came crawling round the corner, with the driver bibbing its horn merrily and waving as he passed.

Last but by no means least came the Huasos, the Chilean cowboys crowing loudly in the style of Peter Pan, accompanied by their dog and horse companions.  Another item they would never be seen without is their Chicha, an extremely strong drink made of fermented grapes.  I have found throughout my short time living in Chile, that the locals are friendly and like to share everything they have.  The Huasos are no exception, and they share their Chicha in an interesting way; they fill a large animal horn and pass it round in the crowd until everyone who desires it has had a sip.  

As we left the parade at around 1pm it became clear that the Chicha had got to some a bit early as they were having a kip in the local park!