Millionaire Tourists

Wow and I thought the gas was bad in the US !

The delicious, gas station, shack, restaurant

A perfect day

The Volcano

This is my meager little life: the world's most comfortable
pillow, the world's most faithful backpack, and the world's most tightly crammed suitcase


La Colina: the comfortable hotel

Oh, the Andes!


Does it not look like Switzerland or something?

La Casa Chueca German Hostel

Those Beautiful lakes

The family farms everywhere



More of La Casa Chueca

Driving through the Andes



The beautiful view in Vina del mar

Poppies! (and they're not illegal to pick here ;)
Getting pulled over for driving the wrong way on a 1 way street...he was nice and he only gave us directions

I was definitely right about us being millionaire tourists once we got to Chile. I mean after all we started out by going to a very nice Best Western Hotel in Vina del Mar, which felt very luxurious after dysfunctional Cabanas and stinky rented houses, as Morielle put it " I am soooo comfortable " well that was until we found out that she had a severe infestation of lice. Yes, although I have not been lucky enough to get them myself, I have become quite an expert at nit-picking. Despite that realization, we spent a very fun day on Fiona's birthday in Vina del Mar, shopping at Artesenal fairs, eating at a deliciously expensive restaurant whose menu was practically a poem, riding in a dollar a minute horse drawn carriage (that was my mom and Elli's idea), walking along the beach, and watching the sunset.

The next day we drove for 4 hours through a sadly brown and dry Chile, really getting to know the beauty of gas station bathrooms ( trust that it was not my little voice asking for one every 30 min. : ) Fiona, Morielle and I had lots of fun trying to sing trios from Scarlet Pimpernel and Aida but decided that it always sounds much better with real music and gave up. Then with a car full of rumbling stomaches, we stopped at a shack restaurant in the middle of nowhere, and decided to try out the nonexistent menu of soup, lamb, and rice and beans. When the bread came and to my dad's great delight, hot sauce we decided that so far it was better than some restaurants in Uruguay. Our assumptions were immediately shattered, the moment we put the traditional Chilean food in our mouths. We left with wonderfully satisfied stomachs and two delighted old cooks who had probably never seen the likes of us before, and who would probably never get more compliments on their little gas station restaurant. After that the scenery of the countryside got much more beautiful, with more green and less brown, and of all things California poppies growing wild. When we finally got in view of the mountains, there were green farms, lakes, and hills everywhere. When we finally reached our "final destiny" as Elli so adorably said, we were surrounded by small family farms, grazing cows, and adorable little houses. In the midst of that we found our hostel/hotel La Casa Chueca. This was nothing normal, it was a sheltered community and gathering place of German speakers and travelers. They all spoke very good English and varying amounts of Spanish. It was equivalent to a bed and breakfast but more beautiful, cozy, and comfortable. Sadly we only stayed there for 1 night, and moved on, drove on. We drove closer to the mountains with the scenery becoming ever more gorgeous. Verdantly green valleys with yellow and white wildflowers, shadowed on one side by forests, and on the other side by the Andes, those majestic, snow peaked, wonders of nature. I felt like I could've been in Switzerland, it was beyond words. We kept driving through it all, then stopped at another gas station for lunch. My mom was very negative about eating at a gas station, but as soon as she went in and saw vegetables on the menu, she had a change of heart. After another very delicious meal we learned our lesson: Never underestimate! (especially when it comes to gas stations.) Satisfied and optimistic, we headed out to drive the last few hours. We reached the Volcano town of Villarica, and thought it looked more like Alaska than South America. In that town we got to our hotel La Colina. Everyone there speak English and the owner is actually from Montana. We have now been here 2 nights and have been perfectly comfortable, with wonderful service, cozy rooms, a delicious restaurant 3 steps from our door, and some of us (not me because I have another horrible cold) getting 3 scoops of homemade Ice Cream every night, just like any millionaire tourists would. ;)
All in God's plan for our trip,
Julia