| We had
planned to make some income on the investment in a tourist business. Real
estate people kept telling us not to worry, a “modification” of the Law
will happen, to relieve the problems the changes in the Law had caused.
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:
To contact Doug
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