The treachery of the phrase book…is that you cannot begin to follow the answer to the question you’ve pronounced so beautifully-and, worse still, your auditor now assumes you’re fluent in Swahili. –Pico Iyer

I always thought Mexican Spanish was fast.  Well, Chilean Spanish is a whole other language.  We seem to initially convey what we want, but once that is spoken, the Chilean listener takes off like a shot.  And they do not take well to being asked to slow down.  I do not think the owner of this house with rooms to let believed me when I told him my Spanish wasn't very good.  He spoke to an assistant in a slow and measured way that I could understand him, but he was mocking me....  Nevertheless, we spent a lovely night here and had a  breakfast that included cafe con leche-yum.

The wood stove.

We drove out here to Cacao on the Pacific Coast to wander the trails of Chiloe National Park.  There was a walk that took us within a kilometer of the ocean. Another took us inland to see the tepual trees.  It reminded us of Florida.

We drove a few kilometers north on a narrow dirt road.  A church and an indigenous style dwelling were along the road.

The road took us onto the beach.  A car had passed us then stopped nearby.  It seemed to be a LGBT photo shoot.

We drove through Dalcahue on our way to the ferry.  It was Thursday, and there was a market.

This is the only time I have been shopping...really!  I only bought a warm knitted hat and a bottle stopper.

Iglesia de Nuestra Senora de los Delores, built in 1850, was the only church we visited.  Those wooden columns are not straight.

Ancud was home for this sculpture.

One last Chiloe church:

                                 January 30-31, 2013