The Agencies’ own Escribanos were/are telling a different tale, even if there is a “modification” our applications will be processed under the law as it was at the time of application. No help there. We would have to rent until there was a modification or until our status changed.

We decided to try another tack and went to the office of a powerful Law firm. To us it was worth the effort and dollars to find a way “a solution”, that did not put our home and fortune in a “Trust” situation.

“There is always a way” should be the motto above the door of every Lawyers office. There was a way - a little complicated - a little expensive - but very ‘do-able’.

Living in Mexico for many years, I had heard all this before. I had also paid for services that vanished with the shuffling of public officials, or even their inexcusable absence at a critical moment. 

(An old expat saying goes: The problem isn’t in buying(services) but keeping ‘em bought).

As we were going through the stages of lawyer opinions and visits, I got an email outlining a proposed law, circulating in BsAs: All sales to foreigners of land and real property in Patagonia would be ‘curtailed’. A trend was definitely developing. I just missed being in the position of having invested and unable to get title, had to form a trust, or pay for a company to represent my interests. If the new proposed law passed I could be in the position of having to sell at whatever price I could get, or worse.

This situation began with a phone call. The first of the refusals had been sent out and blind-sided us. I had promises from the Argentine Immigration people and my Lawyer that nothing like this title problem would ever happen. As we tried to react, I got a second phone call. Months before I had put out the ‘word’ - I wanted to buy a small hotel or ‘complejo de cabanas’ (rental cabins) or Lodge in a “destination” location. I wanted scenery, privacy, and waterfront would be nice. We had spent 6 months and thousands of U$D trying to find ‘our’ place.

The phone call described a place called Hornopiren, Chile on the ‘Golfo de Ancud’ about 115 Km below Puerto Montt. Two locations were for sale; one was a run-down campground with a Restaurant and four cabins, the other was a Lodge. The two places were within a km of each other on the road to the Parque Nacional/Volcano Hornopiren. 

I looked on the web and found there was a volcano named Hornopiren, that was dormant - which seemed like an important fact for the long term. There wasn’t anymore info. available except for photos of the Campground on the web.

We decided to think over our situation - in Chile.

At first, Chile seems much like Argentina as you cross the Andes. Stunning Lakes surrounded by snow capped peaks. We crossed from Villa La’Angostura to the hot springs community of Pueyhue. After a quiet dip in the thermal waters, we headed down toward Osorno. Intermittent cloud cover blocked the view to the south. When the clouds cleared away, the beautiful Osorno Volcano was revealed. The volcano looks like a movie set painted background. You don’t get volcanoes of such classic beauty around Bariloche. Tronador, the hard to see peak that is astride the Chile/Argentine border can look like a very large snow-capped mountain. Osorno reveals itself as one of the most beautiful volcanoes in the world. As you come down into the enormous valley the differences between the two countries becomes obvious. The flatter areas of Argentina are very, dry and brown looking. The Chilean central valley looks a lot like the central valley of California in the spring - very green, and rich. The towns in Chile look weather-beaten and in desperate need of a Bob Villa renovation. The beautiful Swiss/German style of building is behind you, in Argentina. Highways are in better shape and more of the roads are paved in Chile, but the towns were very uninviting.

Driving through the town of Osorno was a revelation. People stopped for “Stop” signs as well as the red lights. After driving in Bariloche, and trying to remember the signs and lights you were supposed to stop at and ignoring the rest, this system was more comfortable for me as a California trained driver. Traffic was heavy and the usual ‘one-way’ street confusion led to some stress, but, generally driving in Chile was proving to be a day in the park after my experiences of crossing Mitre street in Bariloche, or being passed in heavy traffic on a two-way city street. (“You can open your eyes now Dear” - the wife says - “he made it”).

You start (quickly)(God Bless our calculator) to realize the prices of everything stated in thousands, and millions of pesos comes out to lots of dollars! I had heard Chile is expensive but after living in Argentina, I simply, had no idea. Gasoline prices are frozen in Argentina, so the world-wide price spike hadn’t affected us as yet. We had filled up in Argentina for about $2.60usd per gallon. In Chile we paid $4.60-$7.09usd per gallon.

The most modest, sandwich-and-fries meal would cost the same as a steak dinner in Bariloche. The Chilean prices were a little higher than we had left behind in the USA. There were almost no cars on the freeway - like Highway 5, the Pan American Highway runs north to south through Chile.

(This first crossing was during the aftermath of Katrina and fuel prices spiked rapidly. In the last two weeks gasoline has come down to $1.10usd per liter.)

We were passing through a green countryside of small farms except for the stunning volcano - Osorno - and the Andes way back in the hazy distance, we could have been in several locations in the USA.

We travelled south a hundred Km to Puerto Montt on the Golfo de Ancud, a bustling city of about 160,000 people. Parts of the city are brand new, or under construction and some of the neighborhoods are very nice. Enough of the old Puerto Montt remains un-renovated to give the place a real split personality. 

The people were not as immediately friendly as Argentines, with a little prodding they seemed to warm up, but they speak so quietly that our new Spanish skills were of little use. I was surprised that there could be so much difference in the populations of the two countries - and the high level of animosity between them.

We stopped at the “Plaza de Armas, in front of the “Gobernacion” building.

I wanted to know from an official source, if we could buy property, receive Title and actually live in Chile without meeting a public official in an alley, with a sack full of cash.

The lady, Secretaria de Extranjeros office, in Puerto Montt was pleasant as she explained that we could buy property with our Passports and would be granted temporary residency after our purchase and submission of a written ‘plan’ explaining how we would provide for ourselves. After one year of temporary residency - if we were doing OK - we would be given the option to become permanent residents, having to ‘check in’ about 10 or 15 years. (This scenario sounds way too simple to our lawyer, and as always in el “tercer mundo” (third world) remains to be seen.) In fact the purchase process was quite a bit more complicated. The Secretaria either hadn’t mentioned (or I failed to hear) that a “route number” had to be gotten to do anything ‘commercial’ in Chile. Getting the number is no big deal, but IS another day spent standing in lines. But the process was very transparent.

With these assurances in hand we headed south on Highway 7. The Highway is part of a huge project to connect all of Chile with paved roads. The first leg of the journey, Puerto Montt to La Arena is scheduled to be finished by Dec 17, 2005. This was a happy surprise because of the obvious economic impact pavement would have on real estate values. Meanwhile, the road was a morass of mud, desviaciones(detours), and scary fishtailing moments caused by the tremendous rain coming down. We slid into La Arena 10 minutes early for the ferry and poured a little coffee (instant) on our adrenaline. The ferry runs every half hour until about 8:30 (and you better make it early for the last ferry). The ferry ride out on the vast waters of the Golfo de Ancud is memorable. The mountains rise out of the waters and a series of ranges run to the horizon. The 35 minutes goes quickly. The ride ends in Puelche, and begins the hardest part of the journey. 54Km of potholes, ruts and worse abuse your spine and kidneys all the way to Hornopiren. The good news is the Hwy project moves to this stretch of roadway and pavement is scheduled to come to Hornopiren in June of 2006. (As with ‘public works’ anywhere in Latin America this “prognostico”(prediction) should be taken with an ample salt supply). As you approach the “Hornopiren Nac. Parque” sign (3 Km before you enter the town) you are treated to a beautiful scene of the Bay, fishing boats, surrounded by snowy mountain peaks. 

The town however, is Chile-typical, garish color paint on old-looking buildings, with a pleasant square looking out on the bay. I doubt many will spend much time looking at the town when the natural backdrop is so amazing. We followed our local guide out to the “Camino del Parque Nacional, passing for the moment the Campground next to the old Church across the lane from the waterwheel. It was quite a déjà vu to at last see the “El Rincon” sign on the property we had looked at on the web so many times. 

The road is hemmed in by lush greenery and gets increasingly narrow and rutted. A quick right at the Lodge sign and the manicured grounds and the view of the huge green mountains thrusting up behind the Lodge building, and I was sold - I hadn’t even seen the river.

Patagonia is so beautiful that you find yourself looking down at the ground for a few moments, just to process what you are seeing, to prevent the “Oh, another pretty snowy peak”, syndrome. The light is so strong and the colors so vivid, you have to close your eyes for a moment to prevent overload. You really see the first waterfall, but the second and third are just sketchy. I think that is why the tourists to this part of the world always have a blank look on their faces. They have a schedule to keep and they have already seen too much.

I found myself on the porch of the Lodge sipping coffee, staring at the huge volcano that blocks the northward view. To the south was a view of green, tree-covered slopes of the nearby mountains, and snow-capped in the far distance. The sound of the river 30 meters away made the experience almost perfect. As the owner led us to the river, I began to remember the National Park on the ‘Big Island’ of Hawaii - everything green and wet with the spray from the rapids - every breath a revelation. The river was the final clincher. I had been looking for a place like this since I was a child. Anywhere else on the planet and this would be a Park and jammed with crowds of numb strangers. 

I had found home.

The following are the previous articles that Doug wrote for the magazine:

• Invest In Beauty ~ Thoughts On Argentina
• A Little More On Living In San Carlos de Bariloche, Argentina ~ Escaping To Patagonia 
• Home Sweet Patagonia ~Patagonia In The WInter
• Living In San Carlos de Bariloche, Argentina ~ Real Estate And Life In Bariloche

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