Okay, let's all groan collectively at the TLC allusion. But I really did spend the day chasing waterfalls. It was one of the best days I've had recently, and it would have been possible in Peru or Ecuador. Pucon is in the lake district of Chile and the landscape is composed of rolling green hills, bright blue lagunas, and plenty of elusive waterfalls. Most people explore them on bicycles, but as we've already established, I don't know how to ride a bike. So, accompanied by Siobahn, a girl from my hostel who likes to walk, I set out on a hike to Los Ojos de Caburgua, the best-known waterfalls in the region. Unfortunately, the waterfalls were a mere three minutes beyond the bus stop. So much for hiking. And they weren't really waterfalls so much as little humps in the river. it was pretty -- the trees with pale-green spring leaves arched overhead and the river was perfectly blue and unpolluted -- but it wasn't exactly what were hoping for. Uncertain what we'd do with the rest of the afternoon, we turned back toward the bus stop, then spotted a tiny dirt track in the woods. "Shall we go that way?" Siobahn asked. "Why not?" I replied. Neither of us had any idea where it lead, but if it seemed to be leading us too far away from roads and civilization, we reasoned that we could always turn back. What an incredible feeling of freedom -- to wander through the wilderness, no idea where we were going, and not caring! The path led us through terrain I've been longing to explore since I watched it pass by from the window of the bus. Gradually, the track widened, leading us alternately through wide-open farms and dirt roads lined with birch trees. Spring is beginning here in Chile, and the green fields were dotted with yellow flowers. Pink and white blossom lined the tree branches soaring overhead. In the distance, we could see snow-capped mountains and the smashed-in nose of Volcan Villarica. This is exactly the sort of thing that you can't do in other South American countries, where impoverished villagers are likely to rob passing travelers. Here in Chile, where the standard of living is higher, violence against tourists is rare.

    Over and over again, we passed signs pointing us to "saltas." Neither of us were certain what that was. "Salta" means "jump" in Spanish, so we supposed it might be a cliff. When our curiousity overwhelmed us, we followed one of the signs. It lead us through a farm, where a big, smiling woman collected $.33 from each of us. It turns out a salta is a waterfall. A real one. How lucky these farmers are to have such beautiful land, to be able to see it every day! The waterfall was small, like the one in Banos, but its power was amazing. The pool it rushed into was beautiful, blue, and completely unpolluted. Our curiousity sated and our legs tired, we decided it was finally time to return to Pucon. Unfortunately, we were a bit lost. Dirt roads looked identical. We knew we wanted one that led back to the big paved road, but which one would that be? Reasoning that it would be hours before dark and that we had time, we chose the prettiest road and followed it. After thirty minutes of fruitless walking, a van full of tourists stopped and offered us a ride, free of charge. On the way back to Pucon, we enjoyed a long and informative lecture on the flora, fauna, and farming of the region, as well as stops at a few miradors (lookout points) that we would never have found on our own. An excellent day.

    Photos of my trip so far

~Meredith