Colectivos and ferries and vans, oh my!

So it started out as a normal day. Granted it was rainy but fine-left the bus station, found a hostel, started walking through the city and exploring- the usual activities for a Caitlin-Sara trip. After a twelve hour bus ride, well 13.5 if you count the 1.5 hr delay of departure due to the huge traffic jam of the protest, with nothing to eat but a manjar cookie and an apricot juice box after not having dinner, we were ravenous and took our first recess from the rain. Chaparritos are delicious! Ham and cheese inside a croissant-type pastry. Afterwards, we went to a museum where I got some information for my senior paper ? and took some pretty pictures in the rain. We went to a park where there were bursts of fall colors and bountiful leaves and then found an old building which seems to have had a fire in its recent past. At this point we were soaking and ready to be dry-or at least less wet so went to the market. Despite the fact that I usually have three course lunches, my stomach wasn’t hungry and I took advantage of one of the seldom times I could say no to food-Chilean culture does NOT allow this. However, thank GOODNESS I ate the free bread with salsa provided because our next meal wasn’t for awhile later…
We took a crazy colectivo ride (shared taxi) to a Spanish fort. Let me attempt to describe crazy-4 people crammed in the back seat, the driver passing three cars at a time despite the fact it was raining HARD, of course seat belts don’t exist and the biggest person, myself, is in the middle, with the man to my left having ample space and Angela, the tiny Colombian more on the floor behind the driver than the seat itself.  So we arrive at the fort, which was free since it was Navy Day commmemorating the War of the Pacific against Bolivia and Peru or something like that http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Navy_Day#Chile (I just knew we had off school and there were HUGE protests in Viña with students coming from Santiago-not sure how navy day=protests for students but come what may), still in the pouring rain, take shelter in a museum where we see and hear the door slam shut from the wind outside, and learn a little bit about Chilean’s naval history. The guard at the museum tells us there is another fort across the channel and we can take a boat to get across but we’re crazy to do so in these conditions. Thanks to Lonely Planet, I read that there is a huge ferry and figure if it can hold cars, it certainly hold people despite the weather. He tells us yes there is but there is a 20 min walk of walking up and down hills. This doesn’t matter to us because we honestly couldn’t be wetter-there is not a dry part on me-BWCA gang it was like that one time except didn’t result as such ;)) So off we go trekking without our umbrellas (the wind made it impossible to use them) for a twenty minute walk walking up and down said hills. We arrive at the boat launch but see no ferry.  A boy points us to another dock probably five mins away-running, which is what we do because the ferry is going to leave in said five mins. We climb down a fairly steep hillside, and get abroad where after being in a cabin for five mins, the crew invites us up top! Thank goodness he did.
We start making the usual conversation-what are we studying, do we like Chile, etc. Etc. when the waves increase to a significant size where I can see the crest of the wave above the boat. I had to brace myself from not sliding from one side of the ship to the other and even thought I saw the Titanic flashing before my eyes. The crewmen went outside to put weights under the cars and all I knew was this was far too much adrenaline for me, I hadn’t taken Dramamine and this was no amusement ride at Valleyfair. After twenty more minutes and passing the small boats we were SO happy we didn’t take, we get to the other side-40 mins total-where they tell us they’re going to leave at 5 giving us 20 mins to see the fort. The fort was at least a 10-15 min walk so we try to hitch a ride failing and walk there. We walk briskly back determined to make the 5 pm ferry and still see it there at 5:05 when a worker covered from head to toe in bright yellow tells us they have closed the channel and we won’t be able to get across till tomorrow. At first I don’t believe him and continue to walk and then realize he’s not just messing with gringas, he’s serious. We ask him what he recommends and he tells us the remote choice we had heard earlier from the guard at the museum-a 2.5-3 hr “bus,” or in our case, van ride on a very rural path-I can’t call it a road. Before I start describing the trip home, I want to assure you we had no other choice-except to stay on the island in soaking wet clothes with hardly no money and I doubt this island had an ATM-learned that lesson in Cochamo. Picturing the warm fireplace and friendly hostel owner we opted to go back.
So a 15 passenger van pulls up and he tells us this will take us back. Confused why it’s not a micro all I’m thinking is DRY clothes. The driver charges us three times five times the amount of the cost of the ferry but we had no other choice-and after the 2.5 hrs instead of 40 mins I suppose I see why. He opens the passenger door, rolling down the window to open it from the inside (there is no handle) and there are nine other workers that had the same yellow suit on inside. There are already two other men on my seat leaving me a foam corner to sit on-it was that or the pile of tires in front of me. We begin. This “road” was gravel, it was dark, rainy-with one windshield wiper, the other one was on the dashboard, and I’m bracing myself against the window to stay on the seat. I begin to drift off when I hear the car stopping-we’ve stopped to fix the windshield, and men pile over me to take a pit stop,  We begin again when my friend Caitlin asks, “Sara, is there someone back there smoking or is that the car?” I think you can guess the response. The car’s check engine light had been on since we first embarked and there was no oil in the car so every so often, we rolled the window down, despite the rain, to evade the smoke. Some nice radio tunes come on and I start to attempt to drift off to sleep-again-when I feel my already soaked arm with new water droplets-the window where my arm is braced is leaking. From that point on it was just a laughing matter. The radio gets turned off so the lights can be turned on-the lights of course with the wires exposed and nothing more than a small light bulb. I see the rates of the van and think we’re getting ripped off when my friend Caitlin points out the route we are taking is not on the list. The most interesting part of all was all the other men didn’t find it strange at all, as if this were a normal occurrence. Finally, after crossing numerous bridges with gaping holes, more stops to I assume fix the windshield or pee-not sure, we see more than what is equivalent to a pot of gold-a sign, Welcome to Valdivia.
We decided it would be pointless to go back to the hostel, get in dry clothes, and then put the same wet shoes back on to go to the Kuntzmann brewery so we went straight there, and from that point on, with good German beer, a nice bathroom, German food and indoors, all was well.