After a long day of flying south from Santiago to Puerto Montt, driving our rental car, riding a ferry, and getting slightly lost on the sleepy streets of Hornopirén, I arrive with my brother at our low-key Airbnb. It’s tucked away behind a larger bed-and-breakfast, just a few blocks away from the misty coast of this ferry town where the road meets the fjord.
It’s our first stop on our journey down the Carretera Austral, the iconic southern highway in Chile that stretches from the Los Lagos Region in Puerto Montt all the way down to deep southern Patagonia. My dream is to traverse the entire thing, but for this trip, we only have a handful of days to work with. Hornopirén came highly recommended, so here we are, ready to explore this enchanted, rainforesty place.
Dogs, Chickens, & a Quaint Airbnb
As we pull up a muddy driveway to our Airbnb, a standalone cabin on short stilts, a flock of chickens squawk loudly and run away. In their place appears a huge, fluffy dog, who begins acting as our host, following us back and forth from the car to the cabin as we unload our things. It feels like a warm welcome to this comfortable spot, which our actual host has clearly prepared well for us.
We don’t take too much time to settle into our cabin. Instead, we leave our things and venture out to explore nearby. The town is nothing short of peaceful; occasional cars roll by on the tiny streets, and we see more stray dogs than people. It’s the evening, but the ambiance appears darker, thanks to the low gray clouds that blanket the sky. Hills roll and peak in the background behind dark bluish-green water. I feel calm here, especially compared to the chaos of Santiago and the rush to get through Puerto Montt.
Fiestas Patrias Decor, Empanadas, & Dessert
Just a few blocks away is the town center, which is tiny enough that we overlooked it when we first drove into town. We stroll around the central plaza, zipping up our jackets to stay warm from the dropping temperature. It’s empty, we assume, since we’re here in the off-season. Late September isn’t a typical tourist window to visit southern Chile; most tourists prefer to wait for better weather in the summer (December – February).
But we thoroughly enjoy the peace and quiet, and we appreciate some tasteful street art on a few buildings encircling the town square. On one corner, we spot a banner and red-and-white balloons, so we go to take a closer look. It’s a feria with a handmade sign advertising gastronómica y artesanal local food. Sure enough, we find options like seafood empanadas, classic empanadas (pino and queso), sopaipillas, fish plates, postres caseros (homemade desserts), and more. We mix and match food from a couple of different vendors and sit down to enjoy our meal at one of the wooden tables, decorated with little Chilean flags for the holiday.
Waterfall Hikes & Small-Town Hospitality
The following morning, we rise somewhat early to prepare for a day of nature walks. I’m especially excited for this day, being a nature-lover and avid hiker myself. And when we arrive at the trailhead of our first waterfall trek of the day, I’m completely mesmerized by the rainforest that surrounds us, the fresh smell of post-rain air.
Rio Blanco—a brief 10km drive from the town—is a famous trek in this area, and the hike feels like I’ve entered a portal into another world of moss and damp earth and giant, viney trees. Walking through the dense native forest, there’s a slight drizzle misting down on us, and we pull up the hoods of our rain jackets. It’s not a particularly long or strenuous hike, but it’s full of beauty and worth muddying our boots over.
Not too far from Rio Blanco are a couple of other short waterfall hikes that our Airbnb host recommended. After Rio Blanco, we go check out the next one on our list. It’s called Cascada Lancuyén, but we see that its access point is closed off. Struggling with our maps applications, we end up accidentally going down a local driveway, where we spot three people chatting. I get out of our car to ask them for directions, and they’re incredibly welcoming—we learn that this is their property, their farm, which borders the river and Cascada Lancuyén.
The family, who introduce themselves as two brothers and their mother, are so gracious toward my brother and me. The mother offers to walk us over to the waterfall from their private property, and we head out with her, stepping carefully around mud pits and fallen branches as we hear their cows moo around us and see goats across the field. A treacherous, slippery trail leads down to the waterfall viewpoint, and my brother and I make the journey as our generous impromptu guide waits for us above.
All we hear down by the river is the sound of rushing rapids and the soothing noise of the waterfall hitting the gray rocks below. We’re completely enveloped by tall trees and thick rainforest greenery. Sunlight hardly gets through the thick leaves above us, but it highlights the tree leaves, turning them a lively lime green. Conscious that our new friend is waiting for us, we document the moment and carefully work our way back up from the waterfall viewpoint to the more stable forest ground above.
More to See in Hornopirén
Getting back to our car, we thank the woman and her two sons for their kindness and offer them the only thing we have on us as an appreciative token: alfajores, a dessert snack like a cookie sandwich with a dulce de leche layer.
They graciously accept our little gift, and we back out of their long driveway and on to our next destination: natural hot springs, where we’re already itching to relax our tired feet in the warm water. Read more about our adventure in the next part.
