After a lovely 12-hour bus ride back to Punta Arenas, we settled again for the night at our old place Shenu, and took our time the next day since the flight to Puerto Montt, a bit up North, wasn’t until six in the afternoon. So we woke up late, did a bit of schooling and leisurely walked to Brocolino for lunch. Opening the menu there is like starting a teen romance novel… Every single dish is described by the chef with erotic verve, detailing each course not with a list of ingredients but the feelings he experienced while inventing or crafting them, which most often has to do with undressing a woman, making love to a woman, thanking all women for their participation in aforementioned love-making, all wonderful yet unexpected ways to think about Mushroom Risotto, which also happens to be quite good by the way. As we ate the stories in our plates, I absent-mindedly checked my Expedia app to make sure our flight was on time and I was astounded to read that it had been rescheduled… to be two hours earlier!

After briefly wondering how that’s even possible, we get up, start getting dressed and leave our food not even half honored on the table while scrambling to quickly call and/or hail a taxi that would take us to our hotel, with hopefully enough tune space to house our considerable luggage, a rarity in these parts, and hurry us up to the airport thirty minutes away in order to catch this flight whose gates are closing forty five minutes from now… The chef, Hector, came out and wondered out loud what was so bad about his meal that we had to rush out this way! After we explained the situation, I suddenly detected a spark in his eye that worried me further than his sexualizing of shrimp… Determined, he swiftly put on his coat and directed us to jump into his pickup truck, now! Abandoning his kitchen for what he told us was the only choice he felt was right to treat his fellow human in a bind, we sped over to Shenu, dropped our thankfully already packed suitcases in the back of his rig, and made the Kessel run to our gate. Amazingly, we actually reached the flight in time. Thank you Hector, you romantic fool, you saved our hide today! Please consider dining at his table when you’re in Punta Arenas, you will not regret it.

Short story long, we’re now on the Island of Chiloé. Tired, frazzled and hungry.

Upon arrival, we got a bite to eat, rented our vehicle and checked in a few hours’ drive later at wonderful accommodations (more about them tomorrow.) On this leg of the tour, we are attempting to paraphrase this lovely article from Travel & Leisure which details an exciting and gastronomic view of this prized Southern presqu’île. Which is why we were soon off to the Saltas de Petrohue and the hike was exactly what our bodies demanded, a little excel ode, a little rain and so much beauty…


Mystical forest and lagoons galore…




Sadly, the sun never made it out today but it was more than fine; it is wonderful to be back in nature and we are overjoyed to have met a generous mad cook. 

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