Puerto Montt, Chile
February 17, 2007
S 41°28.372
W 072°56.750
Today was probably the toughest day to date on our trip. Not because we did something physically demanding, mentally challenging, or encountered a major logistical glitch, but instead we had our first sick day. We both caught colds on one of the buses, planes, metros, or possibly the hot weather outside and cool weather inside… it doesn’t matter, we’re sick. It took a great deal of convincing for me to succumb to Marc’s request to take it easy for a day. With the Torres del Paine circuit in Patagonia looming less than a week away, we didn’t want to jeopardize what we know will be a demanding 8-10 day trek. We figured a day of limited activity and rest was the best cure.
The day was difficult because I don’t like staying indoors all day at home, let alone in some strange place. All I could think about was a piping hot bowl of pho gai from our local Vietnamese restaurant, or maybe a bowl of chicken wonton soup from U-Lee, that I know would clear my nasal passages.
Finding a bowl of good ol’ chicken soup in Puerto Montt seemed almost impossible; fish soup on the other hand, can be found without a problem. We sat down in at least three restaurants, received menus, reviewed the menus, and left shortly thereafter—no soup in any of them! Plus, with my nose running like a faucet and my throat slightly burning, the last thing I wanted to do was spend 30 to 45 minutes “enjoying” the second-hand-smoke from the many nicotine addicted diners during our meal. After playing musical restaurants for
about an hour we finally found one with chicken soup on the menu—they even had it. (Long story, but there have been several instances where we order something on the menu and they don’t have it “that day”.) The soup helped with the congestion, but still didn’t compare to my San Francisco favorites.
It’s days like this that make me weak and long for home. The desire to be close to things that are familiar—like our bed, comfort food and cherry Nyquil—challenge my mental ability to be gone for one year.
After a forced day in bed (yes, Marc forced me) I will probably wake up with a clear head and exited about our next adventure…a little overnight trip to the Island of Chiloe.
February 17, 2007
S 41°28.372
W 072°56.750
Today was probably the toughest day to date on our trip. Not because we did something physically demanding, mentally challenging, or encountered a major logistical glitch, but instead we had our first sick day. We both caught colds on one of the buses, planes, metros, or possibly the hot weather outside and cool weather inside… it doesn’t matter, we’re sick. It took a great deal of convincing for me to succumb to Marc’s request to take it easy for a day. With the Torres del Paine circuit in Patagonia looming less than a week away, we didn’t want to jeopardize what we know will be a demanding 8-10 day trek. We figured a day of limited activity and rest was the best cure.
The day was difficult because I don’t like staying indoors all day at home, let alone in some strange place. All I could think about was a piping hot bowl of pho gai from our local Vietnamese restaurant, or maybe a bowl of chicken wonton soup from U-Lee, that I know would clear my nasal passages.
Finding a bowl of good ol’ chicken soup in Puerto Montt seemed almost impossible; fish soup on the other hand, can be found without a problem. We sat down in at least three restaurants, received menus, reviewed the menus, and left shortly thereafter—no soup in any of them! Plus, with my nose running like a faucet and my throat slightly burning, the last thing I wanted to do was spend 30 to 45 minutes “enjoying” the second-hand-smoke from the many nicotine addicted diners during our meal. After playing musical restaurants for
about an hour we finally found one with chicken soup on the menu—they even had it. (Long story, but there have been several instances where we order something on the menu and they don’t have it “that day”.) The soup helped with the congestion, but still didn’t compare to my San Francisco favorites.It’s days like this that make me weak and long for home. The desire to be close to things that are familiar—like our bed, comfort food and cherry Nyquil—challenge my mental ability to be gone for one year.
After a forced day in bed (yes, Marc forced me) I will probably wake up with a clear head and exited about our next adventure…a little overnight trip to the Island of Chiloe.
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