What happened in the Shit Port Town

So I hauled ass off the Isla Grande de Chiloe (which I will blog about ASAP and indulge you with pictures of cute little penguins and sea otters and mystic sea cabins…so get read!) today to try to get back to the mainland to catch a 7 hour bus up to Pucon where I would be tonight. When I got to the bus station on the Mainland in the lovely (sarcasm, see title of blog) port town of Puerto Montt, the bus tickets were sold out and I was thus forced to remain here in Puerto Montt for the night. I lucked out and ran into my friend Matan whom I had met and hiked with in Bariloche on the Nahuel Huapi traverse, who had planned on heading south to Cohayaique in Southern Patagonia but also missed the last bus of the day. So we banded together and peaced out of the allegedly dangerous (according to Lonely Planet) bus station to the nearest hostel we could find.

sorry for the ramble run ons!! am I a bad story-teller? Just trying to bust this one out…sans edit

The story begins here.

It didn´t take much time to realize that we were the only people staying here other than a Swedish guy, and that the hostel was probably made overnight (the sign was a plastic sheet proclaiming HOSTAL hung by a piece of string off the wooden balcony). It was a small attic with a few hand built bunks and the downstairs was a fishing-den-cum-cafe/bar/what have you. The “four-thousand-dollar-question” (got that phrase from thesaurus-ing “mystery”) arose when a large pile of smoked salmon appeared one of the wooden tables downstairs. Claudio, the owner, proceeded to cut me a few pieces with a slice of lemon, and then offer to buy some pot, reefer, marijuana cigarettessssss for me. Okay.

Matan and I went out for the mean time and did the only thing there is to do in Puerto Montt, and go to the mall. When in Puerto Montt…We witnessed countless Chilean teenage couples making out in their early `90`s rocker style gear and decided to try out mallrat-ting for the day. We went to the movie theater, bought popcorn and coke…but didn´t see a movie. We played air hockey. I watched him play hoops and was going to make him get me a stuffed-animal bear. The usual.

When we got back, Claudio was upstairs snorting coke with his amigos…because…as he explained…last night was a “big party” and he smoked a lot of pot and then got beer, and then got drunk…and so now he´s tired and has to snort coke. He said that happened the night before, too. And…from what I gather, the night before that and before that, ad nauseam. So…as I am bearing witness to this exact course of events as I write this, (Claudio is in his drinker-beer stage right now…in fact, he just gave me money to go out and buy us all cans of Heineken), I look forward to telling you all what is to become of this night…and what this Shit Port Town ended up being.

The bologna case at the supermarket in Puerto Montt. See what I mean when I say this part of Chile is super-deutsche?

The bologna case at the supermarket in Puerto Montt. See what I mean when I say this part of Chile is super-deutsche?


~ by ceciliabien on March 6, 2009.

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