All this rain can really bring you down. It was raining the day I pulled into Pucon, and it hasn’t stopped for days now, except for that brief window last weekend when we had lunch at a friend’s house beneath Volcan Osorno then made the dream-like trip over the pass, through the clouds and into Argentina.

Now, the pitter-patter on the roof has been consistent. Anyone with the means is fleeing town, to Brazil or to the coast. Lots of folks are just plain staying inside. Those of us here on a deadline are secretly grateful for the lack of distraction as the hours tick by.

And in a country of contrasts, it shouldn’t be a surprise to see that the middle part of Argentina is suffering through a drought and heatwave (it was 39 degrees in Cordoba today!) while we down here in the Cordillera are getting absolutely, completely drenched.

A few days ago, I was in the lovely lakeside, volcano-gazing town of Puerto Varas, Chile. It’s just on the other side of those mountains hiding behind the curtain of grey in the distance and is a colourful, happy place. Since I first hitch-hiked into town more than 12 years ago, I’ve had a fond feeling about PV.

There, hiding from the rain in a cozy guesthouse chatting with a formidable community leader, I learned of their annual Fiesta de la LLuvia.

Latin America, after all, is the home of the annual fiestas - from the fiesta of the catfish up in the Parana Province to the fiesta of the cerveza down in El Bolson, folks here love to put their mark on the calendar.

It was raining there, as it does about 50 per cent of the time. And so the thought of an umbrella parade and a rain-themed gala party made absolute sense.

I’ll have to put it on my calendar for next June, and keep my eye out for the perfect umbrella in the meantime. Now turning puddles into a rainbow, wouldn’t you agree?