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Cute fishing villages, stunningly original churches, shingle roofs, exquisite cuisine and a rich mythology pervade this misty outpost.
Expect: Great food, stunningly remote villages, awesome shingle, iron and wood churches, and rain, rain, rain.
Pack: An umbrella, a rain coat, waterproof trousers and sunglasses (always good to be optimistic).
Isla de Chiloé
As the bus rolled into Castro I wasn’t sure whether to feel euphoric or disappointed. Out of my window, a delicious late afternoon sun stroked the deep blue sea and the houses wrapped in brightly coloured corrugated iron. I thought back to El Refugio 88. The night before, slumped in the corner of this grimy bar in downtown Puerto Montt, I had swirled in the tales of a hardened seafarer. “To understand anything about Chiloé”, he had told me; “you must first understand the rain, the wind and the heavy mist that rises like smoke from the sea”. These elements, he explained, have over the centuries carved Chilote identity.
I arrived on the first sunny day in two months. Pointing at my camera, an old lady with charcoaled teeth, spattered; “you should take your pictures tomorrow”. Taken aback, I asked her why. Her smile was a labyrinth of broken teeth. “Tomorrow, it will rain”, she said.
The Isla Grande de Chiloé may only be separated from the Chilean mainland by a stretch of water a few hundred metres wide, but on the other side of the narrow Chacao Channel another world awaits. Cute fishing villages, stunningly original churches, shingle roofs, exquisite cuisine and a rich mythology pervade this misty outpost. For many this archipelago marks the start of Patagonia; a land where, as Luís Sepulveda writes in Full Circle, people prefer good fiction to solid fact. Far too frequently overlooked by foreign tourists, Chiloé is without doubt one of the highlights of any visit to Chile.
Chiloé’s largely isolated development until the mid 19th century (a central road through the island wasn’t built until as late as the 1950s) has allowed the islands to retain its own unique way of life. Fishing remains the central economy here, but tourism is quickly gaining ground. Get here before the trucks of Lonely Planet carrying, North Face wearing, ‘travellers’ invade. It will be a sad day when fishermen leave their boats to make their money from the replenishing sea of tourists; a far easier catch.
Remote beaches, secret enclaves, dense impenetrable forest, and the archipelago’s heavy mist are the setting for Chiloé’s rich mythology. Dozens of mystical creatures parade the local folklore. Travel beyond the main towns of Castro and Ancud and you will hear of the hideous troll, El Trauco, which steals away and impregnates local virgins (a good excuse for those horny sailors), or of warlocks, brujos, who with their black-magic powers entice good, hardworking Chilote men from the straight and narrow.
Chiloé is small and easily navigated by public minibuses and ferries. Base your stay in Castro, the provincial capital situated in the middle of Isla Grande. One of Chiloe’s most iconic towns, Castro abounds in local colour and culture. Typical palafitos (houses on stilts) hug the waterfront, weather beaten fishing boats moor the harbour and one of the archipelago’s most spectacular churches, walled with colourful corrugated iron, decorates the central plaza.Castro, as the central transport hub, makes the ideal location from which to explore the rest of the main island, and the smaller islands beyond it. In particular the market at Dalcahue (which sells colourful, locally woven, wool clothing and handicrafts), the remote seaside village of Achao (with impeccable views of the snow-capped Andes across the water), and the tiny island of Llingua (where a short ferry ride takes you back in time); are not to be missed.