Heading south from Santiago, to the northern Patagonian forests of Altos de Lircay, 21 April '2016

An earlyish start (we were'nt going to do that!) for a several hour drive south into what becomes the northern end of Patagonia, a geographical district that encompasses both sides of the Andes named after its indigenous people. It is characterised by a more negotiable section of the Andes, with high upland steppes and the transition into a distinctly cooler climate zone. On the Chilean side the mountains are cloaked with Nothofagus (southern beech) which like New Zealand were derived from Gondwanaland. We were excited at the prospect of forests that would feel familiar, yet separated by several tens of millions of years and therefore with species differences and in the case of Chile with other South American biota having migrated in, unlike NZ which did not have land bridges to anywhere. Driving south from Santiago our opinion of the city kept revising upwards as we exited via another attractive part of the city and onto a magnificent new motorway which we followed south, eventually through three toll gates as the provinces changed from one to another. Hawkers congregated around the tollgates, walking up and down the lines of cars, selling all sorts of weird rubbish, not that I saw anyone buy anything. One hawker had a bunch of car wiper mechanisms with blades at one end and wires dangling out the other. Who would buy that? Jimmy's pies and coffee - that might work. The dry Santiago basin with its barren scrublands came to an end as we drove through a set of hills and into a different world of flatlands with rich soil and crops from grapes to apples to kiwi fruit! All the time the Andes dominate the eastern skyline, sometimes a more jagged section, sometimes more weathered or with higher snowy peaks. Somewhat like the way the southern alps backdrop the NZ South Island west coast. We crossed the occasional torrential river with deeply scoured banks showing what the rivers were capable of, in flood. But otherwise a motorway experience more than anything, with 4 lanes all the way. On turning inland at the town of Talca that all changed. We tracked inland with the road deteriorating into a chewed up, rain scoured gravel road. The foothills were around us and clad in Nothofagus - southern beech- forests, but larger leaved species than our own. The lower slope species, like our own red beech, seemed to be tinged with autumn color, while the higher slopes had that darker brooding forest we also have. We visited a small lake and stopped at other locations as the road wound into the hills, looking at the vegetation and birdlife. Then Fernando said 'Tarantula' so we braked to a stop and went back to see a huge spider sitting in the middle of the road. Shanti got very difficult when I asked her to put her hand beside it for a photo comparison, but did agree to help coax it off the road, as another vehicle was approaching. The vehicle had to nearly stop while Shanti sho'ed it off the road - the drivers expression was priceless at the sight of some obviously dumb tourist wandering across the middle of a road ignoring an approaching vehicle to move a spider along, when the best thing for it would undoubtably be a size 18 tyre. We stopped for lunch overlooking a sizeable river with deeply cut bank, peppered with the nesting holes of the burrowing parakeet. The birds were feeding in gardens nearby and tracking backwards and forwards over the river,with the usual screaming and chattering that parakeets prefer. It's not hard to warm to such colourful and gregarious animals, they seem to live in such a world of color and hilarity. That was only half the day gone as we drove further inland to our cabin accommodation in Alto Viches, at the gateway to the Altos de Lircay national park. A surprisingly good lodge with lovely cabins, log burner going as we dropped out luggage off. It needed it - it was fairly cold and only got worse. We then spent the afternoon wandering in the quite magical forest around the park entrance and catching up with a few bird species such as the charming fire eyed duicon and the completely engaging white throat tree runner. Our walk in the forest also included an extended effort to sight a bird called the Huet Huet, about the most shy creature you can imagine. Being territorial they respond to a taped call, but go to extreme lengths to check the situation out from behind cover. So quite a lot if time was spent sitting with no more sound or movement than ones breath, while scanning the undergrowth from where the bird was responding to the taped calls. We drew a blank, but it was a good way to slow down and appreciate the silent forest. We finally retreated at dark and headed to the lodge, for a dire meal of boiled meat and potatoes but at least with a glass of wine. Then off to bed with the fire going, in an otherwise very cold cabin. The next day would be a start at daybreak, heading into some higher reaches of the park.