Chiloé, Chile: A Woman’s Solo Journey Through Chile’s Enchanting Archipelago
For the first time in my life, I’m traveling solo and discovering that I like it. I’ve chosen to stay at Tierra Chiloé in the archipelago off the coast of Chile, just a two-hour flight from Santiago. From my past experiences at Tierra Patagonia and Tierra Atacama, I know that I’m in good hands. The staff caters to your every whim. Today’s wish is a hiking adventure. The tricolor trek delivers rich landscapes of sea, sand and forest. A trifecta of colors, textures and dramatic views.
Wild horses with their newborn colts and fillies entertain my guide Eugina and me. They graze on lush vegetation next to a roaring Pacific Ocean. It rains. It pours. Eugena and I keep moving forward. Along the way, we share stories about our lives and our love for nature. After a few hours, the sun comes out, and we celebrate our good fortune with a glass of Chilian Malbec and a picnic of cheeses, meats and other treats house made by the capable kitchen at Tierra Chiloé.
There’s nothing quite like soaking in a spa after a dayslong hike. My muscles relax as the warmth and beauty of this island washes over me. Through the rising steam, I take in a breathtaking view of the bluest lake surrounded by a picturesque village, rolling hills so green, they rival Ireland’s countryside, dotted with thick bushes covered in bright yellow flowers. Sheep, cows and horses graze right up to the water’s edge where flocks of birds nest and circle above the sprawling lake. In the distance, I can just make out an ancient forest and snowcapped volcanoes.
When I walk into the lodge, I am greeted like a family friend, not a middle-age companionless woman. Any trepidation I had about doing this trip alone melts away when I’m served a flight of pisco sours by the lodge’s mixologist. After sipping the Peruvian, Patagonian and Chilean versions, I choose the Chilean and take it with me to meet Gonzolo, the lodge’s resident expedition director. Before I can finish my cocktail, another is put into my hand and appetizers arrive. Gonzolo asks me what I’d like to do next and together, we work out a schedule that includes kayaking, hiking, horseback riding and a cultural visit to local villages. After planning out the next six days, I’m ready for dinner.
A table for one is set next to the floor to ceiling windows that frame the lake and the setting sun. My server, who is also a sommelier, keeps me company with his enthusiastic suggestions for dishes and wine parings. I take his advice and get the muscles, which are as big as my hand and arrive in a delicate broth. I devour them with a glass of Pinot Noir. The pairing hits all the right notes. What follows is a dish of grilled octopus and local purple potatoes, made two ways, fried like potato chips and roasted to a creamy perfection. I savor every bite and melt into my sheepskin covered chair, enjoying the flavors and solitude of the moment.
When I awake the next morning, I set an intention to be more than a guest, but a friend to everyone I meet. Nestled deep inside cozy down bedding, I make myself coffee and watch the sun rise above the lake. I get dressed in layers and walk into the sprawling lobby furnished with the regional heritage and craftsmanship of Chiloé. Everywhere you look, there’s hand-crafted furniture and locally woven fabrics made by the islanders. I take my place at a table next to a fireplace burning fragrant wood and smile at my server who brings me farm fresh sunny side up eggs, avocado toast and loads of fruit.
They say there is no such thing as bad weather, only bad clothing choices and I subscribe to that maxim. I’m wearing a tank top, base layer, neck gaiter, light gloves, rain pants, rain jacket, waterproof hiking boots, thick hiking socks and my trusty wide-brim Tilley hat. I have a down vest, extra socks and shoes in my Camelback. I learned from yesterday’s trek that the weather can change on a dime here.
After a one-hour shuttle to the trailhead, Eugina and her cohort Yessica and I feel like tres amigas setting out on a wild adventurer. We journey through thick jungle, slog through mud, use our fierce feminine energy to move a herd of cattle off the trail, and help each other climb up steep inclines, over huge rocks and fallen trees. With these young, powerful, sure footed Chilian women, I feel the strength to carry on. The time goes quickly, and after two hours in the jungle, hiking beside the Pacific, we drop onto the beach in front of enormous volcanic rocks.
We marvel at the imposing stone shapes and ferocious ocean as the clouds part and the sun appears. For the next hour, we walk on the hard and level sand towards a bright yellow boat docked on an inlet. We are laughing and skipping on the beach until suddenly, it starts raining, the water blowing in all directions as the wind picks up. The boat ahead acts as a beacon and as soon as we climb in, the weather clears up. Skating up the river, the largest in Chiloé, we pass a sunken forest that met its watery fate during an earthquake and finally dock to meet our driver who has a tailgate party waiting with wine and charcutier.
The next morning, Dora meets me in the lobby for a kayak excursion. “Like Dora the explorer!” she says. I love her already. Like Eugina and Yessica, she seems infinitely happy. And why not? The lodge’s nine guides live together in community housing near the lodge and right on the water. I imagine that I could live here, too. The place and the people are beautiful. The Chileans that I’ve met are happy to speak a mix of English and Spanish with you, and if you’re learning like me, they really encourage you to speak the language. Alone, but never lonely, I am making new friends who care about the environment, appreciate its wonder and beauty and want to preserve it. That’s a real unifier.
After two big days of non-stop adventure and every season of weather thrown at me, I am gliding in a kayak on water as smooth as glass. The sun is shining and there’s not a cloud in the sky. As we paddle in unison, Dora and I pass muscle and abalone farms and watch sea lions dive deep under the lake, never to reappear. Up ahead, rising impossibly high into the blue sky, are the Andes Mountains. Dora, like the other guides is in her early 20’s and yet, we talk openly with one another. I think that’s because when we are at play, we can completely be ourselves.
As a middle-aged woman on my own, I can’t think of a place I’d rather be or a time of year that’s better to explore Chiloé. Although it’s October, and the beginning of fall in the US, here it’s spring and that means flowers everywhere, and lots of baby animals. It feels, fresh, alive, and full of promise. Newly retired from my career in media and entertainment, this trip is awakening my senses and igniting a transformation I’m feeling in every fiber of my being.
That night I dine with Nikki and Kaylie, Australian women who run a travel agency out of Perth. Outside, the air smells of apple blossoms and campfire. We enjoy an appetizer of three generous crab claws adorned with finely diced peppers and garlic, mixed with local smoked red chili served on a bed of watercress. They are touring the best lodges in Chile and having a wonderful time at each stop, Tierra Chiloé being no exception.
The next morning, I meet up with the Australians and a chic couple from Santiago on the lodge’s beautifully appointed wooden boat. We set sail to the islands of Chelin and Quehui where we tour one of the area’s famous wooden churches, rainbow color houses and a nearby cemetery. We learn how the local people honor their ancestors by building little houses and churches for the souls to fly into when they are cold. It’s a beautiful tribute. While the chef prepares lunch, we kayak around the bay. It’s another cool, sunny day. Back on board, we are served a lavish lunch of chicken, fish, and fresh picked salad along with every variety of Chilian wine.
Gonzolo has perfectly planned my excursions, and he promises that the next outing will be my favorite. Dora and I travel to a neighboring island to meet Sandra Naiman Naiman, a powerful women descending from the Huilliche tribe. Sandra tells me that at fourteen-years-old she was a salmon farm worker on an island far from home. When her father fell ill, she was unable to be with him and to this day, she carries the pain of that loss and the guilt. We hold hands and I tell her that I couldn’t be there when my father died because it was during the pandemic and before the first Covid vaccine was available. We are both overcome as we relive what it was like to not be able to share our father’s last moments with them.
When Sandra’s father died, she decided to cultivate the family’s five hectors and turn it into an organic farm. Walking with me past her mother’s Barbie pink house, and into the pastures and greenhouses, she points to her “babies,” the beautiful lettuce, garlic and potato starts and the Swiss chard leaves that are as large as an elephant’s ear. Every planting I see is personally tended to by Sandra herself. Her rough hands and dark skin tell the story of how difficult it is to grow and harvest this bounty alone.
“We are sisters and brothers from the air, and we all deserve the same rights,” Sandra tells me over lunch. She shares with me the struggle of the island’s indigenous people and how she was separated in school from the other children of European decent. She tells me about how the change she made from salmon farm worker to organic farmer and the opportunity it has given her to empower and inspire other women to do the same. Today, Sandra teaches a course funded by the Chilian government that helps women “get out of the shadows of their husbands so they can shine, too.”
Back at the lodge, Karin is waiting for me at the stables with horses saddled. We ride over rolling hills, among the pigs, freshly sheered sheep, newborn calves, enormous big horned bulls, emerald green grass and yellow flowers. After an hour, we share a glass of wine in the barn and tell each other our stories as the sun sets over the lake.
Chile attracts beautiful, open people who embody the idea of global citizenship. As a solo traveler, I could choose at every moment what excursion to go on, who I wanted to talk to, what to eat, when to sleep, and how I wanted to experience it all. Setting an intention with the word “Si” I felt joy. I felt awakened. I felt loved. I felt accomplishment for taking on each challenge and doing it fully present. I felt embraced by Sandra and all of the guides at Tierra. I made friends with everyone in this merry band of nature and adventure lovers. And at every meal and cocktail hour, I was served by a fellow foodie and wine lover who shared my passionate quest for the perfect bite and sip. I loved their company and more importantly, I learned that I like my company, too.
