Our five hour bus ride to Pucon was surprisingly smooth, with only limited delays at the boarder. Crossing the Andes into Chile made for some amazing views and we arrived in Pucon early evening, with Volcan Villarrica (the “smoking mountain” as the little girl behind us called it) puffing small plumes of smoke into the sky.

We immediately liked the feel of Pucon. A small lakeside town, reminiscent of an Alpine ski resort in summer – all tree-lined streets, neat wooden chalets, outdoor terraces and extreme sport billboards. L insisted we seek out a French agency (“bien sur Ed, ce sont les meilleur”) called Aguaventura, so we marched straight from the bus station and proceeded to book our activities for the next 48 hours, before going out for diner.

We politely turned-down the restaurant owner’s suggestion that we share a chorrillana, which is essentially a mound of fried potatoes, assorted meat, melted cheese and eggs. Instead, we went for the “healthy” option of enormous burgers and fries, which we struggled our way through, before heading to the hostel.

Hostel Nativo was an interesting place. The Chilean owner, his younger German “partner” and their dog were basically shared their home with up to 18 guests at a time, whilst a flock of unpaid German “interns” busily cleaned the place, changed the sheets and greeted the guests.

The next morning was efficient, as we managed to book bus tickets to Valparaiso and find a laundry before being picked-up for our white water rafting excursion. We had signed-up for the “Temuco Alto”, a level IV ride, which one of the smooth French guys at the agency had insisted would give us a bigger adrenaline rush than the level III we’d previously identified. L didn’t take much convincing, however, Ed was more worried that our insurance wouldn’t cover us for level IV.

Ed was the only non (but rapidly improving) Spanish speaker, so he had to learn all the rafting instruction in Spanish. “Adelante” (everyone paddle forwards), “alto” (stop), “detras” (everyone paddle backwards), “derecha” (everyone jump to the right-hand-side of the raft), “izquierda” (everyone jump to the left-hand-side of the raft) and “dentro” (everyone jump inside the raft, hold on tight and prey).

When practicing, our little team of 6 executed these commands with military efficiency. However, mid-rapid, our guide, Ramiro, would often fire out several commands in quick succession, at which point chaos would ensue and all 6 of us would do something different. Somehow we survived and made it down the river.

We paddled for 1½ hours, safely navigating 5 rapids, which were named: monstrosity, the devil’s throat, the ugly, the mariman (this one was class VI, so we had to exit the raft, scramble up the bank around it and then jump the 4m back into the calmer water the other side), the last smile and the murderess stone.

We found ourselves at the front of the boat because of our lightweight physiques and seemed to be the ones getting all the water! We thought we would capsize several times but our guide was excellent and despite his raucous cackling, made us feel safe.

The pictures speak for themselves – ever since Ed made fun of L hiking with her mouth open you can see that she is concentrating hard on keeping her mouth closed (most advisable during water-based activities). Although, sadly there are no pictures of L jumping from the rock at mariman. She’d like to tell you that the pictures went missing but the truth is she failed to make the jump. Apparently she wasn’t given sufficient time and was quickly ushered onto a separate path back down to the water. For someone who laps-up black runs on the ski slopes, this was surprising. She is still annoyed about it!

The rest of the afternoon was spent avoiding the piercing 35 degree heat and planning our trip up the coast to Valparaiso. Ed cooked a delicious spaghetti carbonara for dinner. The pasta and its valuable carbs would be much needed the next day, since we would be climbing the 2,840m of the Villarrica Volcano.

We had to be at the agency for 6h30am and we arrived to find backpacks ready and waiting for each of us, the contents of which we would learn about later in the day. We added some large bottles of water and some flimsy looking ham & cheese sandwiches (our favourite) and boarded the minivan, which would take our group of eight to the foot of the volcano.

We quickly separated into two groups: the “super fit” and the “slow coaches”. The latter group decided to follow the recommendation of the guides and took the expensive chairlift to ascend the first 500m and save their energy for later, thus preserving their chances of making it to the top. Somehow, for experienced hikers, we found ourselves in the slow group…

The ascent was tough and we took about 3½ hours to reach the summit. We followed our guide, slowly zig-zagging our way up the steep slope. Fortunately the weather was kind, with hardly any wind and sunshine, meaning the snow and ice were soft enough so as to not require crampons. However, occasionally our feet would slip off the well-trodden path and we’d be forced to dig our ice axes into the piste in order to prevent from sliding down the mountain.

The final ascent consisted of a 200m climb over sharp, jagged walls of blocks. The recent eruption in March 2015 meant that a path to the top was still being plotted and the gravel surface and surrounding rocks were very unstable. Every now and then, you would hear someone scream “roca” and you’d look-up to see that a rock had been dislodged and was now accelerating down the mountain-face with alarming pace.

Sadly, when we reached the top, there was no sign of the bubbling lava that we hoped we’d find. We were told that the lava level had become increasingly unpredictable in the last few weeks and we were unfortunate not to witness it. We were assured that unpredictability did not necessarily mean instability… watch this space!

Thanks to the clear skies, the views were spectacular and we could see for miles. Most interestingly, we could clearly make out the huge barren tracks of land that ran in every direction from the base of the volcano, indicating the damage that had been caused by previous eruptions.

Once we had caught our breath we were instructed to open our packs and put on our snowsuits. We would be tobogganing down the mountain on little plastic trays, which were duly attached to our wastes.

We felt like kids again and fully embraced the endless trails of toboggan runs, racing our fellow hikers all the way down to where the snow disappeared.

A well-deserved beer awaited us on the roof of the Aguaventura building back in Pucon. We tipped our guides and ambled slowly back to our hostel, picking up some sushi (our first for over a month) on the way.

That evening we boarded our bus for Valpariaso, completely exhausted and thankful for our luxurious “cama” (fully declining) business class-style seats. Zzzzzz

Next stop: Valparaiso, Chile

Highlights:

• Rafting the Temuco – must do more of this on our travels!
• Villarrica Volcano – an expensive trip but undoubtedly worth it, the “smoking mountain” did not disappoint