I would rather look at a yard with a rusting truck partly covered with a tarp, chickens pecking around a cord of wood and house plants blocking out the light in the kitchen window than a manicured yard with ½” high lawn and cat piss smelling boxwood passing as landscaping, under windows with faux shutters. I thoroughly enjoyed my stroll through Villarrica today. I felt mildly overstimulated by all there was to see- I wanted to shoot off my camera like a Japanese tourist, but about half the time I raised the camera I’d note a door left open or a person behind a bush and drop it back down. Waiting more than a few seconds to photograph a yard containing a dog (99%) inevitably ended in an awkward eruption of barking and a hastily (but nonchalantly) retreating tourist. There is nothing quite as startling as being two feet from a fence when a dog explodes outta nowhere. Like tripping in public, it’s nice to have a friend with you so you can laugh it off and look less like an idiot. I felt that I stuck out like a sore thumb, with my polar fleece, and well, my face, but a pick-up truck pulled up alongside me and asked for “a consult” on an address. I did think that my little bag of mandarins looked a bit like I’d gone grocery shopping. At any rate, despite the dogs and hidden people, here is today’s walking tour in pictures.

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On the Road Again

Blogs, like a big school project, become harder to start the longer you put them off. I am 21 days into my trip- that's 21 days with intentions to write, I even have some starts and stops that I saved- and it has taken till now to sit down in earnest. Rain on a tin roof helps. God, I can't remember the last time I got soaked in the rain... must have been in Langley during the spring. Feels a bit wrong coming from the northwest. Rain woke me up in the night on the bus, well shit, a lot of things woke me up on the bus, but the rain was the only forgivable one. I feel in solidarity with my people, several of whom are asking for tales of sun and beaches. Jokes on them (you). I missed a glorious opportunity to blog about Valparaiso, the city I sped away from on a bumpin Saturday night. My lovely Couch Surfing host just wrote a letter of lament (he was out of town when I left) about how much more there was left for me to see, and here I thought I was overstaying! He's probably right, though I became antsy as a lone tourist. I'm not good at it. After 3 days of resistance, I finally got my ass into a museum. I read the placards and felt pompously superior to the families and couples whisking through the rooms, until I cracked when I saw school children descending a stairwell, presumably leading to a whole second floor. Give me The Museum of Natural History any day, but sweet Jesus, I can handle little else in the realm of museums. I tried. My new town is much to my liking: a snow-capped volcano crests the lake which is 4 blocks from the hostel and is a birders paradise. A prehistoric curved beak somethin rather is making her nest on the roof outside my window. She seems highly disturbed by my arrival, or I would try harder to snap a photo. If I were Doolittle, I'd let her know I'm vegan and wouldn't dare touch her eggs. Then again THAT would be a lie. Oh Vegan Goddess on High, I have sinned and I swear I am at the beginning of a non-vegan muffin top in penance. Sinning doesn't even taste good. What I wouldn't do for a personal chef from Than Brother's or even a grocery store with soymilk! I think I might have eaten animal fat today, too, but I decided not to look up the word. It ain't easy bein a picky eater on the road... I'll try and rally soon to recap my last 21 days in picture and caption format so as to make it less daunting for me and less dreadfully boring for my readership. My welcoming crew. They waited with me as I rang the buzzer

Hostal Torre Suiza (Swiss Tower Hostel)

View across the lake on a crazy rain-sunbreak-rain-sunbreak day

Mt. Villarrica