At Dalucahue, we hopped a ferry to Isla Quinchao. No trouble – we just pulled right on-board and paid while en route. It’s a short ride and only a few bucks round-trip (save your receipt).
The island is chock full of churches on the UNESCO Heritage list. It was damp and cold, so we decided to open up the heater vent. At least a kilo (alot, anyway) of dust flew out of the vents and we were forced to open all the windows and clear the bus. Haven’t used those in a while.
We drove length of island – a couple of hours drive. We were told we’d be able to see the snow-packed peaks of Patagonia mainland from here, but due to the weather we could only see the salmon farms, a big island soccer match and lots of sheep.
We returned to the town of Curaco and found a campsite a block from the town square. It was basically someone’s back yard, but good enough.
The town square had wi-fi, so I was able make some Skype calls home while Bode scootered around and Jason made dinner. We were also about a block from the seashore. At low tide, the tide goes down 7 meters. It is so strange to see the beached boats. Even stranger to see the chickens and cats fighting for the dead fish that are left behind.