I am looking at a naked man. He is crouched on the ground, his arms wrapped around his knees. His black hair is styled in a bowl cut. He has a wide, broad, honest face without a hint of shame or dishonesty. He is petite — no more than five...
We are on a bus tour. A nature guide is telling us about the local flora and fauna in Torres del Pines. “Juanacos,” she says. “They’re those cameloid herd animals that look like llamas.” The elderly gentleman in the...
Our journey is more than half-way over today, as we round the tip of Cape Horn, heading away from the wintery south toward the summery north. I see from traffic stats that lots of folks are following along with us, which humbles me and makes me...
Today, I’m standing in front of the “towers” — the three wide, flat blades of rough rock that give “Torres del Pines” its name. At 8,000 feet tall, the towers are roughly the height of an 800-story skyscraper. At their hilt, they burst up through...
“Try it,” Manuel says. We’re in Chacabuco (say, “cha-ka-BOO-ko”). I am in love with the name of this port. It makes me think of fine wine (“I’ll have the 2009 Chacabuco”) or a rich dessert...
We stand on uneven ground. Blisters of volcanic rock punctuate the rock beneath our feet: basketball-sized domes of long-cooled lava worn smooth by the sensible shoes of tourists. Cracks and fissures lace each mound. In these, spatters of grey...
They’re very popular these days, in almost every city we visit: “free” walking tours, usually conducted by enthusiastic young locals. (Tips are encouraged, and, in some cases, expected.) Here in Santiago, Kenna at Casa Moro steered...
This morning, we made our way to the statue of Pedro de Valdivia in one corner of the Plaza de Armas to await our FoodyChile Tour of Santigo’s thriving market scene. Alvero, our friendly, easy-going guide, had no problem picking us out, which...
