Category Archives: food

Mooching in Mendoza

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Arriving at Mendoza was a shock to the system. After the hazy sunshine of Santiago we were met with grey cloudy skies and rain. Torrential at that; it bounced off the runway tarmac on our approach and we could clearly see major pooling beneath row upon row, of vines, huge puddles on some roads and water coursing along the acequias, irrigation ditches. Essentially a desert town with max 20cm of rainfall a year, it was far from the welcome we were expecting.

Sleepy leafy streets

Sleepy leafy streets

On Easter Sunday morning the city was still very much asleep, with a handful of flowers vendors setting up their stalls for business and the odd proud home owner out sweeping and cleaning the grey and ochre tiled veradas in front of their property.

imageMendoza, with it’s wide avenues, mix of historic and modern architecture, plazas and parques came across as a relaxed yet traditional city (Mendocinos do observe the siesta) full of flavour and culinary promise; Argentine, Italian plus the odd Middle Eastern cafes and restaurants line the streets of Av Sarmiento, Aristides Villanueva, Montevideo and Av Juan B Justo, to name but a few. We tried to imagine the buzz along these streets on a glorious sunny Saturday afternoon, or balmy evening; restaurants and cafes brimming with chatter and the smell of grilled meat, seafood, rich tomato sauce and fresh breads. Anything, rather than how they appeared on a cold wet Sunday mid morning!!

As we couldn’t check into our “one night only” hotel for several hours, we donned waterproofs and walked the quiet tree lined avenues, fallen leaves and rain making tiled veradas, slick beneath our feet.

Local Heroes - SM & OH

Local Heroes – SM & OH

With hardly a soul around it took us no time to figure out the ‘lay of the land’, the five plazas providing points of interest and reference; the main plaza, Plaza Indepencia, in the centre and four smaller ones, Chile, Espana, Italia and Plaza San Martin, but two blocks from the corners of the main plaza. They were all added when the city was rebuilt after the massive earthquake in 1861, each unique plaza with it’s fountain(s) and decoration offering something different, aside from a space to hang out and contemplate life. Our favourites; Plaza Espana with its traditional and pretty mosaic walls depicting life in Mendoza and numerous tiled fountains and Plaza Chile with it’s sturdy sculpture of the two liberation leaders O’Higgins and San Martin.

Surprisingly the city seemed to have suffered more than it’s fair share of juvenile tagging along benches, walls and the odd sculpture; the dioramas depicting Mendoza’s history on Av Las Heras having also fallen foul of vandalism too.

Bedside reading outside banco hipo...

Bedside reading outside banco hipo…

We took in the nearby Iglesia y Basilica de San Francisco, with it’s image of the Virgin of Cuyo and patron of the ‘Army of the Andes’, considered more miraculous than anything because both church and chamber survived the ’68 earthquake. Outside and inside the former Banque Hipocetario Nacional, modern art reigned supreme, with a mix of local and national art exhibitions.

Stumbling across a Carrefour superstore, we got very excited – like a couple of real saddos, we took time and great pleasure, peeking along the aisles, examining what was on offer; household, beauty products, not to mention the massive food section, price checking and looking for things we hadn’t seen before – eyeing covertly (or at least we tried to) trolleys and baskets to see what ‘the locals’ were buying, we stood out like a sore thumb in the checkout queue – all our basket offered up was empanada cutters, coffee ‘socks’, fresh ground Lavazza coffee, suntan lotions and mosie repellant. Hardly a gourmet meal in the making.

One of many fountains - Pl Indepencia

One of many fountains – Pl Indepencia

Like the rest of Argentina, the city really came awake post sundown, all around the grassy lawns of Plaza Indepencia, more stalls were being set up, selling souvenirs, carved bone handle knives, leather goods, jewellery and plenty of knick knacks. We walked along Av Sarmiento towards the eastern peatonal, the pedestrian section, awash with cafes and bars starting to spill onto the pavement and chose a cafe for its “wifi zonal” sign. Bad move. Although the wifi and service were both pretty good, the pizza was far from. In fact it was probably one of the worst we have eaten. Ever. Consoling ourselves with the upgraded Malbec we were offered, we checked our emails.

Thankfully our choice of dining establishments and lodgings improved over the next few days!!

All day fave - Maria Antonieta

All day fave – Maria Antonieta

We were recommended Maria Antonieta and for a good reason. Resembling a French styled version of Fergus Henderson’s ‘St John’, with an open kitchen, it offered the best bread we had tasted and incredible up-market cafe dining. The tarta del dia, pumpkin on the day I tried it, was huge, even by a navvies yardstick and totally divine. As was the mixta salad with the bitterest of arugula leaves and sweetest tomatoes. I polished the lot off.

"Light" lunch - pumpkin tart

“Light” lunch – pumpkin tart

Azafran at night

Azafran at night

Azafran, was so good, we actually returned for a second helping. This may have been partly because I had a classic case of food envy first time round. Matt had ordered the Costeta de cerdo, pork chops with a traditional lentil stew and sticky beer reduction, whereas I had gone for the simple langoustine salad with avocado and Parmesan galettes. Don’t get me wrong, it was delicious – just not in the same league.

Eyeing up the wine cellar

Eyeing up the wine cellar

Did I mention that there isn’t really a wine list? Instead you can pop into the cellar and choose from the racks, sommeliers on tap to offer a guiding hand. The decor inside, if you can get a table (we did, second time around) is rustic shabby chic and quite a draw card by itself. And they served the meanest and poshest empanadas we had tasted to date; Molleja y champinion, Chorizo con cebolla and Morcilla y parmesano. A meaty mix of sweetbreads, sausage and black pudding versions with a tomato concasse.
What more could you ask for??

Mmm... Empanadas

Mmm… Empanadas

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Sunny Santiago

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Our timing was a little off, arriving in Santiago at the start of the Easter long weekend. Nonetheless, we were determined to make the most of the limited time we had and at least see a couple of the highlights on this occasion; keeping a few things back for when we returned later in the month. My longed for retail therapy was definitely on hold, with a lot of shops closed for the holidays. Sigh.

The sun bounced off the shiny skyscrapers as we sped into town from the airport. Santiago, cosmopolitan capital that it is, boasts its own mini Manhattan, with a huge ‘downtown’ business district and well laid out avenues, mixed with apartment blocks and faded colonial mansions – all in the space of two dozen blocks or so. With views of the Andes (on a clear-ish day), sprawling parks and plazas, it is a city you can just about conquer by the Metro’s five lines and foot; we had yet to brave boarding a bus with our token Spanish and well thumbed phrase book. Next time. Maybe.

A large helping of hot dogs....

A large helping of hot dogs….

I hit the tourist trail to check out a few of the “must-sees”, whilst Matt continued researching our Galapagos trip. Knowing full well things¬†would be closed, I made for Plaza De Armes, at the heart of the city and previously, in good ol’ colonial days, the location of the gallows and public hangings. The square was buzzing with people making the most of both the sunshine and weekend; a few street vendors, selling mainly Peruvian (!) knick knacks, candy floss and balloons and an arcade housing some 12 cafes/stalls that seriously catered for any cravings you might have for “dirty white” hot dogs, slathered in mayo, more mayo, gauc, plus you name it, you can have it, number of toppings… Not for the faint hearted or cholesterol checking chicas.

National PO Building

National PO Building

Sadly the Correo Central, main post office was closed; not because I wanted to post anything – we have been beyond pants at sending post cards – but it is a stunning building, both inside and out. I decided against the Museo Historico Nacional and ducked into Iglesia Catedral Metropolitana instead, recently and lovingly renovated it is easy to see why it was deemed a national monument, with its incredible stained glass windows and chandelier that lit the first meetings of Congress after Independence.

Entrance to the mercado

Entrance to the mercado

Feeding time in the market

Feeding time in the market

Not far away the Mercado Central beckoned, an assault on the senses in every way, it was the best place for seafood in Santiago; in the centre and beneath the ornate wrought iron girders, colourful and packed restaurants vied for business, musicians played and stalls sold everything from fresh fruit and veg, cacao leaves, guitars and trinkets. Behind this lay the fish market and the original cafes that fed off the market, with scarred tables and chairs, plastic clothes and all the charm that went with them. A bubbling and blistering hot caldillo de congrio arrived and hit the spot – a hearty stew rather than soup – finished off with tomato, chilli and coriander with a pile of fresh limes, ready to squeeze over. Perfecto!

Fish market in full swing

Fish market in full swing

The fabulous fish girls

The fabulous fish girls

On the way to barrio Bellavista, I strolled along Parque Forestal, that runs along the river (I use the term loosely, as it was more of a stream in

Bellas Artes

Bellas Artes

places) Rio Mapocha and popped into the Museo Nacional de Belles Art, museum of modern art, keen to see the drawings of Paula Lynch, Chilean artist whose portraits in pencil you would swear where photos. The building a stunning Art Deco backdrop for an incredible installation by Finnish, Kaarina Kaikkonen featuring over one thousand garments – men an women’s – strung out, row upon row across the gallery’s entire central hall – resembling a gigantic washing line.

Even if I hadn’t have been up for a fix of modern art, it did mean that I could only hear the whistles, chants and other sounds of the student demo passing by. No dramas but there were rather a lot of riot police present.

Rows of garments at Museo de Belles Art

Rows of garments at Museo de Belles Art

"Bellisimo" Bellavista

“Bellisimo” Bellavista

Barrio Bellavista has a heartbeat of its own and was on our list of places to hang out in, on our return. A multicultural neighbourhood, part old city and part new and edgy with students, musicians, cafes, restaurants, bars (the most per square mile in Chile apparently), theatres and galleries. Patio Bellavista, the perfect pit stop for a cheeky cerveza and a chance to ”people watch’ amongst the restaurants and cafes and craft stalls; a band tuning up ready to take centre stage in the square later that evening, part of the weekend line up.

Navigating the fjords..

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Navimag in her brochure glory

Navimag in her brochure glory

We had pushed the boat out (sorry, too hard to resist!) opting to go on the Navimag ferry up the western coastline and myriad of channels, to Puerto Montt, booking a triple AAA cabin in advance. Not so much because we wanted to travel in style – let’s face it, it was a ferry boat that transported livestock and cargo as well as a few passengers – we wanted to have a window and didn’t want to book last minute; four days at sea … what if the weather was foul, and we had no port hole to peer out of? Thanks, but no thanks. And probably just as well.

Evangelistas cutting through the channel

Evangelistas cutting through the channel

We boarded in Puerto Natales, sadly saying goodbye to Kau Lodge (the girls really did produce the best coffee we had tasted since leaving home) hoping for good weather, great views and half decent wine served with lunch and dinner (we were in training for Mendoza), plus sightings of wildlife from the decks. We got off to a good start, with a welcome bottle of vino in our cabin and relatively informative briefing in our dining room – the cabins had their own, on the lower deck next to the officers mess, below the main dining area.

In the early morning grey light and tides, the ship passed through the skinniest passage on the voyage, Paso Kirke, a mere 80m wide, with a restriction (natch) on the size vessel that can navigate through these waters, heading up the Sobenes Pass, the southernmost channel on our journey.

A series of safety briefings and nature films followed throughout the day, English and Spanish, in the main dining room plus an exchange book programme and the promise the chance to flex your vocal chords at the karaoke evening…. With the hope of sighting a few sea lions on rocky outcrops and seals ‘playing’ in the kelp forests, we stayed firmly on deck, making the most of the dry weather.

Glaciar Skua

Glaciar Skua

Just before supper we got the opportunity of coming up close to Glaciar Skua, part of the O’Higgins National Park and Campo de Hielo Sur. it was magnificent, spanning the width of the channel, some 40 plus metres visible above sea level. Almost the size of Perito Moreno, it’s spiky seraks and deep blue fissures were a sharp azure blue, even in the flat pre dusk light and clouds plus touch of rain, that had just started to fall.

And fall it did. For pretty much the entire journey.

On lookout for seals ....

On lookout for seals ….

The AAA lunch and dinner club

The AAA lunch and dinner club

Murphy’s Law as we wouldn’t get to see much of the stunning scenery around the small channels and islands that made up the fjords. We consoled ourselves with an extra glass of wine with lunch, ‘retiring’ to read in the afternoon, aperitifs before dinner plus a few more glasses with dinner . And really got to know our fellow cabin passengers from Australia as we spent rather a lot of time in their company; like naughty school kids we also skipped some of the lectures and demos in favour of chilling in our cabins watching movies and seeing what we could spot from the port holes…

Puerto Eden, the small (and only) town between Puerto Natales and Golfo de Penas was shrouded in mist as we passed at sunrise; we could just make out few rooftops as we slid by in the silent waters. Angostura Inglesa, English Narrows, so named because only one ship can pass through at a time, came and went without incident and we headed towards the deeper waters of Messier Channel and beyond it, Golfo de Penas and open seas.

It wasn’t the Drake Passage but it was a bumpy 12 hour ride. Just as we were finishing off supper we hit the first big swells and cross winds; time to ‘batten down the hatches’, steadying our tableware and helping our steward Andreas, gathering glasses that crashed over and bottles that had toppled off the table next to us, as he set about lashing closed the china cupboard and cutlery drawers. The evening film was cancelled and probably just as well, as the ship began to pitch and roll with a deep clunky groan echoing through hull as she rode the troughs. Off to our cabins we went…

Misty islands magic around Chiloe

Misty islands magic around Chiloe

The final day aboard dawned a little dryer and brighter – time to stretch our legs on deck and be on the look out for seals, dolphins and sea lions as we sailed around the Chiloe Archepelago. Shouts of “whales, whales” draw a small crowd, but we missed them and watched as sea lions fed on what looked like mini man-of-war jelly fish!

Two books, a handful of movies and a few pounds heavier (four course lunches and diners were beginning to take their toll) we finally arrived at Puerto Montt. Next stop Santiago.

First time foragers

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Given that, once we made camp we were all supposed to use either the picnic tables scattered amongst the tent pitches, or in some refugios, the cooking “hut” provided, an element of (good natured) beach-towel-bagsy-sun-lounger syndrome emerges around 6.30pm when thoughts turn to supper….

After a few days together on the trail, we had checked out each others kit, swapped stories on where we had been and where we were going. Picnic table conversation became the preserve of fave foods and what we were missing and less so about what we were preparing for supper. We thought we had been pretty smart by adding a few fresh ingredients to our de-hy curries, risottos and pasta base meals, so we had to take our hats off the the guys that trekked with bacon plus fresh eggs too!

With bacon running low; onion, garlic and Parmesan, the staple of our non dry stores, we decided to add a few things we found along the way to sex up our suppers…..

Chancing our luck with chanterelles

Chancing our luck with chanterelles

On the trail leading from Refugio Dickson, chestnut mushrooms, morels and chanterelles were all within tantalising and easy reach of the trail. We even thought we spotted a few field mushrooms near the boggy meadows, but weren’t sure enough to risk picking them. Stopping for a spot of lunch, on the banks of the Rio Los Perros, we spied several clusters of chanterelles…. too good an opportunity not to miss! After all, we could always check with the ranger that they were edible.

Mushrooms cleaned, chopped and added to the garlic and bacon lardons, Matt produced the best risotto of the trip. It was perfection on a plate…all that was missing was a big bowl of salad!!

‘Greenery’ in any shape or form, was absent in our camping food and four days in, we were both beginning to miss it. Spinach, broccoli appeared as headliners on the longed for list. Between Refugio Grey and Refugio Dickson, the grassy plains were studded with daisies and dandelions.. pis-en-lit is a well used salad leaf in France, so, once again we thought why not! Washed and wilted they were fantastic in our pasta with arrabiata sauce.

Patch of Calafates on the trail

Patch of Calafates on the trail

Calafate berry breakfast

Calafate berry breakfast

Having spotted so many Calafate berry bushes close to the trail and tasted them in ice cream, we decided to spruce up our morning porridge with a handful of these, instead of raisins. Close to Campamento Los Perros we found a patch of sun-ripened and almost blueberry black berries. Picked and rinsed we added them last minute. Similar to pomegranate seeds they popped in our mouths. Sweet but watery, rather than juicy, we wish we had picked a few more… We would tomoz for sure!!

Blackcurant sun-days

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Torres and the odd tree ..

Torres and the odd tree ..

From Laguna Amargo, we set off at a fair ol’ pace in the company of Jan, a young chap from Germany, taking the slightly longer alternative route that took us along the rolling grassy floor of the valley; the path was easy to follow as we walked through scorched and twisted trunks of trees, a legacy of a careless trekker who had tried to burn his toilet paper/make camp many moons ago. The story changes depending on the teller, but the fact remains, the dry tinderbox landscape, with its scrubland, open grassy plains was prone to forest fires. Torres sadly had seen a few in the last decade.

Up and around gentle slopes, with stunted nirre trees and scrub revegetation, we crossed and recrossed little channels and streams, back onto the wide open river flats. Jan was heading onto the next refugio from us and had to reach our stop, Puesto Serron before 2pm, if he was to make to Dickson before sundown. Do-able, but meant he would have to push on ahead. Having swapped stories on our similar experiences on the West Coast trail, we said our goodbyes.

This way to Seron ....

This way to Seron ….

Charting the sunshine factor...

Charting the sunshine factor…

Earlier we had spotted the UV indicator board near the entrance to Park HQ; heads up on how sunny it would be and dutifully applied suntan lotion before we set off. As the sun climbed higher in the clear blue sky and we began to feel it’s heat, we stopped for a spot of lunch in the first place we could find with any shade, near the banks of the rushing Rio Paine. Pitta liberally spread with Philly cheese, slices of queso de oveja and lomo vertado, plum tomatoes… All that was missing was a chilled glass vino rosso!

Time to up the ante on the sun protection and get the big guns out – SPF50. What we hadn’t realised on our quick pharmacy dash was that as a hypoallergenic kid friendly version it was not just a delicate shade of puce in the tube…. It was tinted purple. Great, Matt looked like he was auditioning for a Ribena ad, and I, a poor cousin of a geisha girl… No more arguments as to whether or not it had been applied fully!

Meditating on benefits of SPF ..

Meditating on benefits of SPF ..

We rejoined the trail, following the burnt orange painted markers, mirroring the path of the river. Not long after, we began a game of tag with a small groups of trekkers all heading for the campsite, alternating pitstops along the broadening trail, now heading over meadowlands and pastures scattered with nirre woodland.

Our first official campsite came into view; a small simple structure that housed the bathroom (hot showers!) attached to a main building for those that preferred to have their meals cooked for them and chance the reputation of the care-keeper cum cook…who spent his spare time practising his tightrope walking between trees (!?!)

Campsite caracara

Campsite caracara

More trekkers arrived, tents started to pop up and as the sun began to set, the mozzies made their appearance. Happy sharing the campsite with the caracaras that wandered into camp, the mozzies were not a welcome addition. Perched around picnic tables, preparing our collective suppers was a great- ours a mix of Austrians and Americans, we chatted about were we were heading, our trip so far and traded travellers tales; it also meant covertly (or not) we could check out what the others were preparing for supper.

Having seriously liberally doused ourselves in “Jungle Formula” (post shower sweetness replaced with ‘Eau de Deet’) we were surprised they were going anywhere near us. While we were busy flapping our arms to keep them away, had admire Paul, a proper dude from New Mexico, who calmly let them hover, settle and ignored them. And they seemed to ignore him. Wasn’t working for me – I retreated to safer ground and zipped up the tent until it was time for supper – pasta with fresh Neapolitana sauce and a sprinkle of Parmesan. 1- 0 to the mozzies.

Trekking in Torres

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We packed more keenly for our ten dayer in Torres; with extra rations and knickers required it was time to examine a little more minutely what we would use/need. Out went the thicker down gilet in favour of a smaller synthetic and lightweight version…. With the promise of a bed in the nearest refugio dorm if I got THAT cold at night, I was comfortable downsizing on a few extra ‘home comforts’.

Also unlike Fitz Roy, Torres del Paine had a number of serviced refugios along the circuit and in the well trafficked trek known as the “W”. In my mind this meant steamy hot showers, warming plates of meat stew and rice or potatoes on the nights we didn’t camp cook, washed down with the odd glass of good vino to aid sleep, of course. You get the picture. Reality was likely to be a different ball game as two different companies serviced the park and reviews were mixed.

Park ride

Park ride


A bone rattling ride took us into the Parque Nacional Torres del Paine; excitedly we checked out the real life gauchos riding alongside, on the dusty dirt road that led to the entrance. As we wound our way through the barren scrubland, we were met by unexpected views of the imposing and distinctive Torres, towers of batholic rock, part of the Paine massif and the pinnacles that form part of the infamous “W”. With the sun shining down on us, we reckoned were off to a pretty good start…
Weather report TDP style

Weather report TDP style


We stopped off at the Guarderia Laguna Amarga, to register at the park headquarters and listen to the brief. A far more formal set up than Fitz Roy, the pep talk was a little on the hurried side, as we were processed for park fees, directed into a room to watch a video on the do’s/don’ts and pick up the latest weather report and csmpsite info. Our hearts sank just a little as we saw the spike in the per km winds coming in. Beaufort scale of 6 was brewing on the day we were expecting to cross the pass!
Pretty as a picture... The Torres

Pretty as a picture… The Torres

Checkpoint Chile

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We were both sad to leave El Calafate as we hadn’t really given ourselves much time to chill or look around, or, eat our fill of ice-cream. Yep, the Calafate berry and dulce leche combo had truly won us over! We were obvs destined to return another time…

The bus, packed full of locals and touristas alike, sped along the steppe. From the window we caught sight of huemels and gaunacos grazing on the open grassland plus small flocks of flamingos…. The stakes in our game of ‘spot the wildlife’ had gotten much higher!!

After hearing Sofia’s “horror” story of how she nearly got fined $5000 ARP for forgetting she had a banana in her bag, we thought carefully about what we were taking over the border into Chile; I was neither blond, cute or fluent in Spanish (she had spent 18 moths in Rosario) so would not be able to blag my way out of a cell for bringing in contraband! Plus, let’s face it, we weren’t really prepared to visit a prison cell for carrying organic Scottish oats! Like the good honest citizens we were, we mentally prepared a list of the trekking staples we had with us… Just in case.

We filled out one set of immigration forms, in duplicate, then another set in triplicate, then a third set (suspiciously identical to the first) plus finally the all important declaration. Even if we had a better grasp of Spanish, it probably would still have probably felt like a bit of a farce; we got off the bus, ID’d our bags, declared our oats and dried fruit goodies (greeted with a whatevs shrug), picked up our bags (with a side trip thru the scanners) and got back on the bus.

We were now in Chile. Whoop-whoop!

Arriving at Puerto Natales was “interesting”. Our bus threaded its way along through the ‘burbs and, without warning, pulled up on one of the main drags into town. Not quite what we expected, even with what looked like a bus terminal sign a block or so away. The end of the line it would seem and obvs “the norm” as out of nowhere people appeared; touting for business, hostels and taxi service alike, with makeshift placards bearing passenger names. Had we been a bit more savvy as to the drop off point, we would have sorted out onward transport too!

As the other passengers dispersed, Matt hailed a cab and with a pit stop at an ATM, we made our way to Espacio Kau. Has to be said, “the boy done good”. One of the trendier places in town it was smack on the sound/seafront and had its own cheeky cafe. Result!! I could already taste the freshly brewed coffee with my breakie tomorrow …

Sidewalk and serenity

Sidewalk and serenity

Indigo on the Sound

Indigo on the Sound

Puerto Natales is the jumping off point for Torres del Paine and the 200 odd hectares that make up the national park; a colourful and imaginative mix of low-level painted corrugated homes and shops, really modern design-led spaces and ramshackle old brick buildings. We liked the seaside-cum-travellers vibe that sat side-by-side its small town sensibility with municipal gardens, churches and clean wide pavements.

City colours

City colours

With diets that had been somewhat lacking in fresh fruit and veg, we drooled over the oranges, apples, peaches, plums and pears piled high in the shop window of the local supermarket. Plump juicy raisins, dried mango, cranberries and cashews were added to our shopping basket to take trekking with us. We got over the fact we couldn’t find wheat crackers and tins of tomato sauce drenched fish for our lunches… instead we would munch on lomo vetado, salami and queso oveja.

Simple yet sumptuous ... la Picada de Carlitos

Simple yet sumptuous … la Picada de Carlitos

Tummies rumbling from missing lunch and our supermarket sweep, we realised we were a tad too early for supper (it was only 6pm). Bugger! Tempers soon began to fray as we searched the streets for somewhere (read anywhere) that was open. We lucked upon La Picada de Carlitos, a restaurant split into two with the main restaurant side closed and the more local refectory style dining open. Half a dozen families sat eating and we ordered what we thought what would tide us over til supper ‘proper’….OMG it was a mountain of food! Matt’s cheeky starter ensalada of agucata y pollo, with it’s whole avocado filled with chicken was enough for four alone. We sighed with immense relief we had only ordered pollo a la plancha, grilled chicken and chuleta de cerdo, pork chop with a couple of simple mixta salads, as we spied a table across the room…. Giggles erupted as their mains arrived …. The parilladas, mixed grill they had ordered (for one) could have fed a family of four!

'Swimmin' in the sunset at Last Hope Sound

‘Swimmin’ in the sunset at Last Hope Sound

Stuffed to bursting, we ambled along the waterfront and watched the setting sun across the sound.