Day 7 · Wednesday

New Year’s Day Luis and Margarita give me what seems to be the typical Patagonian breakfast: coffee with hot milk, that awesome bread, cheese and ham slices. Simple but perfect. Mike and I head out for Parque Nacional Queulat where the French folks told us you can see a glacier that hangs between two mountains. There’s an easy walk up to a viewing location. Several people come and go taking pictures and admiring this amazing view. We meet an older man from Santiago. He’s chatty and eager to give tips for travel here and up north. There are boats here to go across the lake and get an up close vantage, but we’ll have to wait until tomorrow for those.

Heading back to the parking lot and talking to the rangers, we learn there’s another hike, slightly longer and more difficult but with a view that is worth the trouble - and the mud. And it is absolutely worth the trek. There’s a clear view over the lake with the glacier in center. We eat snacks and sit with the view to ourselves for quite a while. We head off for the hot springs that is located between the park and Puyuhuapi. Sadly they are closed so we just go back to town. Most places here are closed as well. It’s a holiday of course. There are families around celebrating together.

We find a hamburguesa truck for a quick bite and then walk some more looking for a restaurant with beer. One places has an open sign but upon enter, we are certainly in someone’s home. There’s a kid eating cake at the kitchen table, there are several cakes in view. An older guy comes out miming things but not speaking in any language. He seems a bit off. He’s motioning us to come through but it really looks like they’re closed. We protest but he insists and the child agrees we should follow. We end up in a tiny room with three tables, two of which already have patrons. We discover one rave are from Israel and the other Germany. There’s a young woman serving the whole room. There are three offerings bistec con pobre, fish, and one other option. Mike gets fries with his bistec and my fried fish comes with a fantastic rice. We chat with the Germans, exchanging highlights as we are moving in opposite directions. The grandfather returns to the room attempting to talk to each table in turn. We all try to translate the meaning. Apparently he has a book and he’s collecting patrons from different countries. He has the Israelis sign. He’s excitedly asking if I am Swiss German. He’s saddened when I admit to my Americanness. He’s done with us now. Must already have a German and an American. We never even get to see the book. We walk over to the only other place in town with an open sign. It’s obviously a restaurant. We order beers and watch the world go by. There are cats coming in and out. One orange boi la dueña tells us is her baby.

We chat with a young woman from Bristol who was sitting at a multilingual table. Turns out she met some Israeli guys in Argentina and they got her into the Israeli WhatsApp travel group. These kids have a WA for every country and join them to see who’s around. She gives a recommendation for a place in northern Argentina where she visited a few weeks ago. Maybe next new years. I like the idea of visiting South America at this time of year again. We walk back to Don Luis and hang with the French for a bit. I get Fatima’s email. She lives a few hours from Paris. Mom and I will be there in April and we may see her.