Christmas in a Cold climate

Christmas Eve started much like any other day, overcast with spattering of rain on my hostel window. My carefully laid plans of rising early to go walking in the park were dashed a sudden inflammation of my Icantbefuckedacitice. This cleared up about lunchtime though the weather did not. I headed out to Parque Nacional Chiloé
Where I met and instantly fell for 4 lovely Québécois, we walked through what I
would swear are Tasmanian forests to a wide expansive beach. Being 42 degrees south the vegetation was amazingly similar to home. To fight the Chill, and fortify our spirits, we consumed a Christmas bottle of Pisco sour on the wild windswept beach before the return journey to Castro. Along the way i got free French lessons, realising i had forgotten all the French i ever knew - and was not coming back in a hurry. Here, on a terrace overlooking the bay at dusk, we settled into a feast platter of cheese crackers and the forbidden fruit, along with a bottle or two of the local wine. Finding a restaurant proved more difficult but we finally found a place where we could sample the seas bounty. I had a large dish of shellfish, meat, potato and salmon. Parting company we returned home at 2am full of Christmas merriment.
Here i discover that my hostel has a curfew at 1am, and had now bared the doors and would not open to me even after extensive knocking... Calling on my inner cat burglar, i vaulted a barbed gate, sailed through the unlocked window and, by light of my camera, snuck my way back to my room. As cosmic proof that i should not take up a life of crime i was then confronted my an angry looking, bare breasted, Chilean man wielding a six-shooter like John Wayne incarnate - and i don’t know if he was the good the bad or the ugly. (I mean he had a RUGER?? What is this 1920’s?) After a heated exchange, involving his incessant shouts asking if I was ‘loco’ and me in my bad Spanish (and accidently a few French words - cos they felt right) giving him a piece of my mind for locking me out without warning, we each retreated to our rooms untill mañana. Sufficiently ruffled by the encounter i did not immediately sleep - i got up late, to an unsatisfactory breakfast (prepared, very slowly, by John Wayne himself), i left and met up with the lovely Canadians girls and headed for some penguins up north on Christmas day.

All in all an Unforgettable Christmas.