After exiting the port in Puerto Montt, I turned right, walked for 10 minutes, and entered the bus station. I quickly located the minibuses to Puerto Varas, paid my 800 pesos, and climbed aboard.

Getting around Chile had been wonderfully easy. Buses were reasonably frequent, almost all were clearly labelled with their destination, and the terminals were close to where I had been staying.

The minibus cruised through Puerto Montt, picking up passengers. I saw the unmistakable backpacks of the “English Couple” in the distance, and we soon left the city. Twenty minutes later, I arrived in Puerto Varas, got off at the corner of San Francisco and San Salvador, and walked to my hostel.

The hostel, which had decent recommendations, was situated just a five-minute walk from the city, nestled in a quiet street near two schools. I checked in, slightly delayed from when I said I would, and went exploring the city.

Puerto Varas is almost a suburb of Puerto Montt, where some wealthier residents live and send their children to school while commuting into the city. It is a clean, pleasant tourist area with several things to see and do.

After spending the afternoon walking around and climbing one of the main hills, I returned to the hostel, cooked paella, and watched some of The Hobbit with tea.

At one point the owner came out and plunked his daughter down on the sofa. She was maybe 4 years old. When one of the fighting scenes came on she looked a bit terrified, and her father noticed and came and got her.

I went to bed at a reasonable hour to get ready for the next day.

At about 7:45 I had breakfast, Nutella with bread and three oranges, and found the bus to Petrohue, a station about one hour away. While waiting for the bus I bumped into a traveller interested in mountaineering from Chicago, and two other people going to the same stop. The blue minibus finally came, I boarded, and it got up to speed. Beautiful scenery passed me by as I left the lakeside and curved around between two volcanoes.

After almost an hour on the bus I reached the terminal station, Petrohue, where one can either take a boat and end (eventually) in Argentina, or take a hike. I opted to go on the hike.

The trail was not immediately apparent, but after asking for directions and somehow understanding enough to know where to go, I crossed the gravel yard and campsite, then began making my way towards the volcano. Each step brought a new view, either of the volcano to the left or across the lake to the right. Large streams of gravel puzzled me: were they left over from the 2011 eruption?

The road forked and I went left, up, and soon came to my destination: what could pass as a mirador. Unfortunately, the closer I came to the mountain, the cloudier it became. By the time I got to the mirador the top of the volcano was almost not visible through the clouds.

I turned around and started hiking back, and by 15:45 had made it back to the roundabout that served as a bus station. I boarded the bus and sped back to Puerto Varas, now looking back at the volcano with no clouds in sight.

Back in Puerto Varas I contemplated what to do the next day and cooked some more food, paella, this time with shrimp. I decided to not watch any movies, as I needed to wake up early.

By 7:00 I was awake and on my way to the bus station, ready to catch a bus to Chiloé Island. I hoped to travel to Castro, but after reaching the station and eating breakfast, I learned that the next bus left at 11:05 and arrived after 15:00. That would leave only two hours to explore before returning. Given the time constraints, I opted to get off at Ancud, another city on the island. To reach it, the bus would be loaded onto a small ferry crossing the bay.

In Ancud my first mission was to try to find some food and try some of the more famous dishes. After walking around for a while I located the place I had in mind, ordered my food, and waited. The restaurant was cute and charming, with little knick knacks everywhere, meaning something to somebody.

After eating, I walked around trying to fill the time in a town that was mostly closed because it was both Sunday and the beginning of the low season. I followed the beachfront walkway, tried some outdoor exercise equipment, attempted to move my bus ticket to an earlier departure, and finally decided to visit the fort.

While walking to the fort, I stopped at a small ice cream shop and bought two regular chocolate yoghurt cones for about 80 cents each. The shop was busy, with customers radiating out in every direction carrying cones. Mine hit the spot.

After ice cream I stopped by the supermarket chain Unimarc and bought some water and other stuff, just in case I ran out on my walk to the fort. The walk was not long, but I sat at the fort for quite some time. I also bought a pair of fingernail clippers from a nearby pharmacy, so took this opportunity to clean myself up.

The fort’s cannons pointed in every direction, and most were occupied by teenagers making out. It must have been quite a scene: couples everywhere, and me cutting my toenails. I walked up the hill, admired the beautiful bay, took some photos, and started back towards the bus station. Almost immediately after I left the fort, a small stray dog caught my scent and began following me. He looked harmless, despite wounds across his body.

I walked back through the port, up the street, into Unimarc to buy some more food, back by the ice cream store, and up to the bus station. My little mangy follower kept track of me the entire way, despite trying to lose him in the supermarket. Once I arrived in the bus terminal he knew it was hopeless, whatever he wanted, and took off.

Within an hour my bus had departed and I was on my way back to Puerto Varas.

Unfortunately, because I was catching a 7 p.m. bus, I would not return to the hostel until after 10 p.m., something I had hoped to avoid. I had needed to switch rooms that morning, so I had neither a key to the building nor one to my room. Luckily, after a brisk walk back in the dark, I found the owners still awake. They let me in and showed me my new room.

The room was gigantic, at least as far as hostel rooms go. A big bed, a smaller side bed, a table, two or three chairs, and a bathroom the size of a previous room. It was a shame I had to shower and go straight to bed, in preparation for leaving the next morning.

My early sleep was interrupted by Americans in the next room discussing hair conditioner and other trivial topics, so I put in my earplugs and tried to block out the noise.

Early the next morning, I awoke, had my usual breakfast with tea, packed my bags, and reached the bus station in time for my 9:05 bus to Pucón.