ที่ตีพิมพ์: 20.03.2023
In the morning, I take a Colectivo (minibus) to Achao, a town on Quinchao Island, about an hour away from Castro. The bus driver honks at almost every pedestrian on the island as a greeting. I sit on the beach for a while. Swimming is prohibited, but the water is not very inviting anyway. As in the rest of Patagonia, there are many dogs here, mostly free but many with collars, not poor stray dogs. Either they lie completely relaxed in the middle of the sidewalk, dart purposefully through the area as if they still have something urgent to do, or they bark in outrage at passing cars, which they often chase after.
For lunch, I eat the Chilean version of fish and chips: Merluza a lo pobre (breaded hake with fries, fried onions, and two fried eggs).
Back in Castro, I pick up my things, say goodbye to Marco, and take the bus to Puerto Montt, from where my flight to Southern Patagonia leaves tomorrow. The ferry ride to the mainland is enhanced by a colorful sunset. Sea lions watch the passing ferry.
In Puerto Montt, I am greeted by a slightly shabby hostel at the bus station with a friendly owner. There are large doormats from 'Sport-Maier' in the hallway and bathroom. My room only has a window opening to the hallway, screened by a grandma curtain.