Chile is different from Argentina, the food is mosty from the sea, the prices are much higher and the roads are better. A rental car frees us up to stop for pictures and skip towns we feel are too big or too commercial. We passed through Villarica, the major city on the lake of the same name, on into Pucon, a major tourist town for Chileans it seems. Night life is raucous, bands play in the street with gyrating girl singers.
We attended Mass on the same town square as the bands. In Pucon the same tall, stout, very white priest presided with the same thin Indian-looking young man doing the set up and orgainzing the altar. The church was packed. Tom noticed the congregation never knew when to stand or sit, indicating many Catholics from various churches, I guess.
The beach here is long, full of sun bathers but when I stepped off the boardwalk after having a non-alcoholic fruit drink at a tiny restaurant, I twisted my ankle in the deep, sharp volcanic sand. The beach is brutal and makes it almost impossible to walk near the lake. There are dirt trails close to the sand and Tom found a golf course at the end on the point, about $30. US for nine holes, but, of course, he is thinking of all those lost Chilean golf balls.
Today we are off to the thermal pools to see if that helps our aches and old bones. We do love climbing and want to investigate the National Park here.