Our first walk was an exploration of the coastline between the fishing port at the Calera de Quintay and the Playa Grande, a few kilometres to the north. The sun shone warmly as we headed down the dusty main street of this peaceful village, descending gently past the old timber houses towards the coast, passing wattles in bloom and breathing in the scent of eucalypts - it was good to be back in the Chilean bush! At road's end, we passed through a fence to continue on a footpath in open grassland leading down to the low cliffs.

Coastal scenery north of Quintay

All along, the signs of spring were evident, with many coastal flowers in bloom and birds singing as they flitted between the low heath shrubs or trees a bit further inland. Across the bay, an unbroken line of impressive headlands and cliffs swept northward back toward Valparaiso.

The track took us back into the empty streets of a more developed area, where rich Chileans had built their summer houses along the cliff-tops and from where they could enjoy the sumptuous views over sumptuous meals of local fish and pisco sours on their extensive decks. Not a bad place to come for a holiday and done quite discretely. Less so, the sight that greeted us as we dropped down toward the Playa Grande; here, a modern development of large multi-story apartments and clusters of villas had been built, strangely empty at the moment, but no doubt a beehive of activity in January and February. This area was only a few kilometres away from Quintay village, yet was world's apart in ambiance. Still, it had been set well back from the beach and did not impose itself like many modern coastal resort developments and we felt pleasantly isolated on the beach itself.

We wandered slowly along the steep strip of golden sand to find a spot where we sat and watched the big Pacific surf pounding the shoreline, while dotterels scurried and sandpipers piped along the ebbing and flowing water's edge. It would have been nice to stay all afternoon here in the warm sun, but it came time to head back.

This time we followed the bottom of the low cliffs - across rocky areas filled with low flowering herbs, succulents and cacti, past curious rock formations protruding out from the coast or emerging from the foaming waters of the big waves that crashed against them and across grey-black boulder beaches and coves.

The following day, the sky was even clearer and bluer with a cold southerly wind sweeping up the coast. We had forgotten what cold was during our few months near the equator, but there is something enjoyable about a bracing windswept coastal walk.

This time we headed south, crossing the stillness of a plantation of pines before emerging once again at the coast to cross the Playa Chica. This small cove, lined with boulders, rocky platforms and tidal pools was a mecca for the local fishermen, who dotted the rocks in small clusters as the big waves sent towers of foam spraying upwards around them.

From the Playa Chica, we climbed up the low rocky cliff to a large grassy area with superb views and several half-finished, half-collapsed timber buildings; it was a ghost-resort, a failed tourist development from 10-years earlier lying sadly in its magnificent setting.

We continued to climb over a small knob, covered in flowering heath, succulents and cacti, to pass several rugged coves. To the south the coastline swept away in a series of low cliffs and beaches, the light green of the heath at times broken by the dark green of pine forests.

We reached a point where the pine forest had been planted right up to the cliffs and wandered inland a bit to find a sunny opening, sheltered from the cold wind, for a pleasant lunchspot. Then it was back again, retracing our footsteps along this beautifully rugged and unspoilt coast line to the village of Quintay.

Sadly, the world's third best climate let us down badly and we emerged to a cold grey morning; the cloud hanging low and obscuring the peaks around, including Cerro Campaña. It was to stay there and keep temperatures down all day.

There would be no views across the width of Chile today and the enthusiasm to do a 1400m climb in the fog rapidly dwindled. Still, we had come to walk in the National Park and so we set out on a lesser climb, 720m up to the saddle of the mountain ridge at Portazuelo de Ocoa. At least this would give us a chance to check out the richness of the flora that impressed Darwin, particularly the rare palm groves that grow here.

Leaving the park entrance, we followed a road up through the camping/picnic areas for a kilometre, before turning off on the Sendero los Peumos which led us up alongside the rocky bed of a trickling quebrada beneath a dense cover of trees. Under the grey skies and thick canopy, we found ourselves walking in a very dim light in a world of varying greenness, brighter spring growth mixing with the darker green of older leaves. Eventually the track rejoined the road, following it for a short distance before crossing it several times on a steeper line. Finally, we left the road completely to head up a more open ridge at the 800m altitude mark.

The mists closed in as we climbed

However, this was also the level of the cloud and just as the views began to open up, the cloud thickened to obscure them. Nonetheless, walking in the fog has its own rewards with the ghostly shapes of trees appearing and disappearing in the mists and, as the vegetation changed, we came across lots of red, white and yellow flowering herbs and a couple of species of beautiful orange and white orchids - Darwin would have been impressed by these!

The slope dropped off steeply beneath the path and you had the impression that beyond the ghostly pall of the swirling cloud there were magnificent views over the ridges of the park and perhaps of Cerro Campaña itself - we would need to return one day to find out.

Finally, we reached Portazuelo de Ocoa and ate our lunch in the shelter of an old stone wall on the pass - sadly, the clouds also obscured any trace of the palm groves in the valley beyond. We retraced our steps and retreated to Olmué for a cup of hot chocolate and a pisco sour.