Hooray you sexy readers! How are you? Check my adventures in Chiloé island in Chile - it'll have more parts.

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I cannot start without being incredibly grateful for my lovely readers, I'll repeat that post after post because without you none of this would be possible, THANK YOU. All the support received on my SteemFest post has made all my 6 months of Steemit worth every single second spent writing.

If you don't know about my Steem Fest Dreams post, I'll link it down below - I'm competing to a paid trip to Kraków - Poland.

Steem Fest Dreams: How it'll change my life for ever!

To celebrate your love, I'm fully focused on the craziest Travel Story series, where I'll bring to you yet another insane experience I had in this world of ours. This post will be about the Patagonian adventure, It'll also be the first time we'll see a continuation of a previous post released a loooong time ago. Keep in mind though that not reading the previous posts doesn't influence the understanding of this story, however, it does contain explanations about the island of Chiloé and how to get there. If you'd like to see the previous post it is linked below.

 Travel Story: 10 Hours Boat Trip to Chiloé - Chile

Without further ado, let's dive into the adventure. This time I hitchhiked the island of Chiloé in Chile, I slept by the road, slept on the streets, got wet for 5 days straight, smelled like fish AND thought I was going to drawn on a gigantic Tsunami. Enjoy!

^{Click any of the images to enlarge!.}

Obs.: This story is part of a bigger journey that I plan to tell you one day. Since it would be incredibly long I've decided to release parts of it, featuring the most crazy bits. It'll not follow an order of events, but I'll put it in a way that you can read as parts of a book. Hope you enjoy.

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This happened when I was hitchhiking Argentina and Chile in summer 2017. Carrying only the essentials and little money for the journey. I had left Buenos Aires in early January with the main goal to reach Ushuaia, the southernmost city in the Americas. Plan was plain an simple: Work if needed, camp, hitchhike all the way, have loads of fun and let my desire guide the way.

February 15th, 2017.  While the ship was maneuvering and the crew members were running up and down to prepare our aproach I took my travel diary to register the last moments of that 10 hour boat trip to get from Puerto Cisnes to Chiloé.

Peacefull 10 hour trip. Getting to Quellon, city known to be a little dangerous. We are not staying here, so it'll be hitchhiking time! Write again during the night.

^{Arrival in Quelón.}

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Getting to the southernmost city of Chiloé was somewhat apreensive for my friends Lois, Juliet and I. We had been advised to be extra careful due to its famous reputation of being a dangerous city. That's how it is on portuary cities generally; people coming and going, mugglers, robbers and all sorts of strange looking passersby. To be honest, the city visuals didn't seem to be appealing too.

     - Guys, plans, ASAP. - I told my friends.

     - What do you want to do? - Lois asked.

We were walking aimlessly below a glowing hot sun to get out of the port area, our attention was so focused on finding the right way that I forgot to visualize my surroundings, nor I had time to photograph. All I can remember is the smell of salt water and fish - if that helps you picture the scene in your imagination.

     - I suggest that we find the northbound exit and try to hitchhike out of here. - I said.

Lois quickly grabbed his cellphone, which of course was running out of battery - electronics are like that; when you need them the most, they fail you. But he managed to open the maps app and luckly we were on the right way, it was now a matter of time 'till someone picked us up. Didn't take long.

     - Olá, chicos! I'm not going all the way to the north, but hop in... - The middle aged man said.

We quickly organized our backpacks in the trunk and entered. Carlos, the driver, was a cool guy who was working somewhere further north. 

     - Where are you going? - Carlos asked.

     - Castro... - I said.

     - Well, listen... I'm entering right at an intersection a few kilometers from here where I'll work for a few hours. Later I'll go north, if you guys are still there I can pick you up again... - He said.

Sounded like a deal, we'd try to hitchhike at the intersection, if nothing worked for us we knew that he was coming later. That's how it happened, only that we lost him. Shortly after Carlos dropped us, another car stopped and lifted us until a city called Chonchi.

This is a part of the story that I simply can't remember why we ended up in Chonchi, which is exactly in the middle part of Chiloé. My travel diary doesn't say much either, nor I have photograhs of that location. Possibly we were completely destroyed from the trip and very tired to do anything other than finding a place to sleep.

     - What now? - Juliet asked.

     - Guess we have to find a place to sleep, in a few hours we won't have sun anymore... - Lois said.

     - Yeah, how about asking for a space at one of those farms over there, seems safe... - I proposed.

We were on the main road that cuts Chiloé from south to north, on the other side of the road a small market place with a wodden house by its side. Behind us a dirt road cutting some farms. We took the dirt road and started walking, checking for hidden spots or maybe a farmer willing to lend a small space.

On moments where you are trying to think, it's inevitable, there will be tension and disparities between you and your friends; what works for me may not work for you and vice versa. Things were getting hairy as we tried to find a place to sleep, our stomachs were screaming for food.

     - Blackberries!!!!! - Juliet shouted.

     - Whaaaaat? gimme gimme gimme! - I said.

We found some trees full of Blackberries, sweet glorious Blackberries. They tasted like heaven after spending almost a day without eating anything, the more we ate the more delicious they became. We must have spent at least one hour just eating those marvelous little fruits. Needless to say that our moral instantly came back to normal and we no longer wanted to kill each other. I remembered to take some pictures.

^{Delicious little bastards.}

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     - Ok dudes, fuck it.. I'm not walking any longer. Let's go back and I'll ask at the market place if they let us pitch the tents somewhere.... - I proposed.

They agreed, so back we went. After a bit of talking I managed to get a permission to pitch the tents in front of their land. The nice old lady kept our documents under her possession just in case, which was completely fine by me. At that time the hot sun was going away and soon the rain started, forcing us into saying goodnight earlier than normal. If felt glorious being able to cook something in my tent and stretch my back on my sleeping mat. The other day we would figure out what to do.

February 16th, 2017. Skipping our morning preparations and the hitchhiking routine to keep on going north, we had now finally reached the capital of Chiloé.

Castro, is the biggest city in the island, a culturally rich place with more than 40.000 inhabitants. That day I wrote on my diary.

Survival in big cities is a big s***, you either have money or you'll be f****. If you want to sleep for free you'll risk being robbed or the Police kicking you out. People are distrustful and less accessible. The small towns are a paradise with their heart openned people.

^{Castro boat in Castro city.}

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I was feeling frustrated... Having no money sometimes requires quite a dose of decision making. Castro, compared to the other cities can be considered big, with people flooding the streets, cars and tons of tourists and backpackers all over the place. I don't like that.

The overall vibe in Castro is fantastic culturally speaking, it's home to the famous houses on stilts, everything is so colorful and the people seem to be so happy. On top of that, there was a festival happening, called Festival Costumbrista Chilote, where they celebrate their history and traditions. That was the perfect place for those curious to learn about the Chilote culture and all the myths surrounding their history. Plus, it was a chance to taste all their famous culinary, oh the Curanto. Only if I had the money...

Below is a picture of one of the famous wodden Churches and a transcription about their myths, just so you don't have the task to search it yourself.

^{San Francisto Church. I was kinda upset, that explains this terrible picture.}

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The Chilote mythology or Chilota mythology is formed by the myths, legends and beliefs of the people who live in the Chiloé Archipelago, in the south of Chile. This mythology reflects the importance of the sea in the life of Chilotes.

Chilote mythology is based on a mixture of indigenous religions and beliefs from the natives (the Chonos and Huilliches) that live in the Archipelago of Chiloé, and the legends and superstitions brought by the Spanish Conquistadores, who in 1567 began the process of conquest in Chiloé and with it the fusion of elements that would form a separate mythology.

It flourished, isolated from other beliefs and myths in Chile, due to the separation of the archipelago from the rest of the Spanish occupation in Chile, when the Mapuches occupied or destroyed all the Spanish settlements between the Bío-Bío River and the Chacao channel following the disaster of Curalaba in 1598. - Wikipedia contributors. (2018, January 16).

Source: Chilote mythology. In Wikipedia, The Free Encyclopedia. Retrieved 20:03, August 3, 2018, from https://en.wikipedia.org/w/index.php?title=Chilote_mythology&oldid=820697683

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My friends and I were worried not knowing what to do in such a big city; at the same time we all wanted to stay together, we knew that my current monetary situation couldn't afford a hostel, which my friends so badly wanted.

Some people told us that the backpackers had been sleeping on the main park, however I saw the Police kicking out the backpackers who were over the green areas. Incredibly there were no camping sites nearby, so my friends decided to go to a hostel, leaving me on my own trying to figure out what to do. It was ok, sometimes we just gotta say goodbye.

Big cities don't catch my attention anyway, although it seemed beautiful. What could I do? We can't have everything in life.

I wandered around trying to discover as much as I could before heading further up north on my quest to find a peaceful small town. Day was a mix of rain and sun, dress/undress rain gear, unpack/pack camera - a gigantic sticky mess, if you ask me. I used the morning to find the supplies I needed, which were a bottle of gas for my camping oven, batteries for the camera and food. Those three drained the money I had saved working as a gardener, another story I'll tell you one day.

Some photos I took trying to discover what to do next:

^{Overview of the stilt houses.}

^{I can't imagine how it is to live in there.}

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At the supermarket I understood the meaning for 'fast talking Chilote people'. I approached an old lady at the counter, to ask for directions to the northbound exit. I had the confidence of a native speaker of the Spanish language.

     - Ola, una pregunta... where's Castro's northbound exit? - I asked.

     - Agaraladerechasigueretounosparesdekilometros and you'll be there. - She said.

     - Whaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaat? - I asked. I couldn't understand a word of what she said.

     - Do you see the street in front? - She said.

     - Yeah... - I answeared.

     - So you have to siguetodaviaporlacalledunosparesdekilometros and that's it. - She said.

     - Oh my dear god. Please, I don't understand, please speak slower. - I patiently asked again.

After a few tries I was sure that she was speaking so fast just to have some fun, but she was lovely at explaining me the directions. That's all I wanted.

In the end I found the way myself while wandering the whole afternoon. I was again near the road with both my backpacks and my thumb, traffic was slow and a light rain dropping. I was disapointed for not being able to enjoy the amazing culinary at the Fiesta, but I was also happy to be moving again to a calmer place.

To be continued...

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This story is to be continued! On the next episode you'll see how I slept on the streets and feared for my safety in Dalcahue.

If you liked this post, please, consider leaving your upvote for a hot coffee.

~Love ya all,

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Disclaimer:  The author of this post is a convict broke backpacker, who has travelled more than 10.000 km hitchhiking. Following him may cause severe problems of wanderlust and inquietud. You've been warned.

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I'm Arthur. I blog about Adventure Stories, Brazil, Travel, Camping & Life Experiences.

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