Tuesday, February 09, 2016

South America (Chile) - Day 75 - 80: Valparaiso and Vina del Mar

Our time in Valparaiso could mostly be described as "painful". We'd started feeling a little ropey a day or two before leaving Santago, and the sore throat Gilly was suffering from had properly kicked in with a vengeance on the morning we left our apartment; the hour and a half bus journey didn't do her any favours. I was feeling it too, but nowhere near as bad. A 2km walk to the hostel compounded matters, especially since Valparaiso was built on not one, but 42 hills. There are funicular trains dotted around which you can make use of for the cracking price of 10 pence, so we availed ourselves of the one closest to Hostel Escarabajo, then walked the remaining way uphill. The hostel itself was nice enough, at least in terms of social area space, but the six bed dorm we were in only had one locker. Security is a must in hostels - almost every theft I've heard about has been inflicted by travelers on other travelers. It's hard not to be paranoid when you're leaving valuable electronics lying around. Regardless, no-one was using it, so I dumped our stuff in it and then we set out for some food.

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Valparaiso is a hotchpotch of grime and colour, with more stray dogs than I've seen in a single location. Graffiti mingles with genuinely good street art, whilst more stray dogs than I've seen in one place (and their "offerings") litter the streets, along with locals whose sole purpose, at least in our area, is to sell you weed. After stumbling upon a random festival performance, and trying to track down a restaurant we had found on Tripadvisor and failing (it looked to have closed down - top tip: always check the last review submission date), we walked back to a restaurant literally two doors down from our hostel called Hotzenplotz. This is a German joint run by an effusive and enthusiastic young lady, serving craft beer and a brief menu of four main courses which are all cooked to order. We both chose the chorizo with potatoes, which were filling and tasty. Vegetables are something of a mystery in this continent, but from what we've heard Bolivia is going to be far worse so we're enjoying the food whilst we can.

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Gilly was feeling really run down the next day and I was starting to feel the same, so we decided to head to a local clinic. After less than a half hour wait, we emerged with a diagnosis of tonsillitis, a prescription for penicillin and super strength ibuprofen, and £100 less in our pocket. Thank goodness for the excess waiver on our insurance... The most Gilly could manage to eat was ice cream, and though I wasn't feeling hugely hungry, I still managed to get through a set lunch at Cafe del Pintor late in the day, before we both headed back and spent the evening resting. I found another hostel with a private room for 500 pesos more per night which was a no-brainer, so the next morning we jumped in a cab to move to Hostal Color, literally two doors down from where I'd eaten the previous day. The cab was needed...I was feeling truly awful, and seemed to be a couple of days behind Gilly in terms of the illness; thankfully she was starting to recover. Our new accommodation was just what we needed, a quiet courtyard with just three private double rooms. We went for breakfast at El Desayunador where I managed to force down some eggs and toast, and in the afternoon we joined a free walking tour around the town.

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For some reason, Queen Victoria is very popular here, despite there being no historical connection between the monarch and the town. The locals just liked the name, so there's a funicular bearing it, as well as numerous roads and other amenities. Valpo (as it's shortened to) has UNESCO heritage status which is something of a mixed blessing. It's great for tourism, but many of the houses in need of repair are unlikely to be fixed since they will need to be restored to the exact same style as they were before the heritage status was granted and the cost of this is beyond the means of many. Graffiti is another issue. There are hundreds of murals found throughout the winding streets and narrow passages, but it was actually illegal to create them despite their obvious tourism draw. Government crackdowns didn't solve the problem, so instead they took a different approach and redefined what graffiti actually meant - tagging and other crude graffiti is still illegal, but now you can actually get grants to help create new murals if you apply for them. Among the murals are various "street saints" which people beseech favours from; one lady used to provide medicinal mushrooms to the populace for various ailments, the effects of which you can probably imagine. Another street saint was a serial killer, who is still very popular with the criminal underworld - his grave is filled with thank you plaques from grateful lowlifes who have had their wishes granted. The guide had acquired a dog - Rocko - which followed him around everyday, despite his best efforts. The dog had learned the tour route by heart, and was always waiting outside an empanada shop for him to go past. He was a bit crazy; he didn't attack anyone, but he was the alpha in his pack and was always happy to have a go at other dogs if they got too close. He may have bitten off a little too much when he cornered a cat in a doorway though. Fortunately the cat's owner chased Rocko off before he got his snout slashed.

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The three hours took their toll on me, so we had a rest in our room and then went out to El Horno de Chile and shared a plate of pork and spicy mash. Even if we weren't ill, the dish would have been way too much for one person; we're still getting to grips with huge south America portions! For our final day in Valpo we went to La Sebastiana, another of Pablo Neruda's houses. En route, we stopped at a fantastic macaron place, which was basically a French guy selling them out of his back yard. Probably the best macarons I've ever eaten, and they served as the breakfast of champions until we reached the house. Unlike La Chascona, we were able to wander around this one freely, although the audioguide still directs you between the floors. This house spans five storeys and like the other, contains knick knacks Neruda collected from around the world. It was a lot more compact than his Santiago property, but his love of the sea, drinking and entertaining were all visible. The name came from the previous owner, who died midway through the house's construction, and for whom Neruda named the house as a tribute.

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A walk back to town took us to Kaiku for a passable sushi lunch, followed by gelato from Emporio La Rosa which we were overjoyed to see had a branch in Valpo after stumbling upon it in Santiago. My throat was in need of coldness: a cursory inspection that morning had revealed that the right side of it was riddled with ulcers which explained why eating anything was agony. Lovely stuff. Drinks weren't so much of an issue though, so a craft beer at Casa Cerveceria Altamira and a couple of hands of cribbage followed by our first "proper" Thai meal in the trip at the excellent Samsara was a great end to our stay in Valpo.

Since we were in the area, we decided to spend a day in Viña del Mar, a nearby beach town. Hostels were super expensive so we opted for a second AirBnB stay, this time in an impressive looking property named El Chateau. We got there at 11am, only to find the owner wasn't there. Not a great start. Fortunately there was a cute café-library around the corner, so we spent an hour reading, drinking herbal tea and munching on amazing passion fruit meringue. At midday our host finally arrived, a wheezing old guy named Carlos who looked as though he might keel over at any moment. We were offered a twin room in the main house or a private annex with en suite which we went for. Despite appearances, the place wasn't in great condition. The bed was very comfortable but the electrics were dodgy (shock off the light bathroom light switch, anyone?) there was damp everywhere, and the whole accommodation was in dire need of renovation. Carlos was one of three brothers looking after the place (we'd booked with Alejandro), and despite not speaking a word of English, he did his best to make us feel comfortable.

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A little disappointed, we walked into town where I picked up a new beard trimmer at a very good price in an Argos-style store, and then strolled along the waterfront, starting at Wulff Castle (which was closed for renovations), ate empanadas in the grounds of the town's casino, and then walked a considerable distance up to the beach. The sea was really rough, and waves were breaching the sea wall regularly so we stayed our distance and found a park to sit in and read for the afternoon. There's a trend in Chile of performers waiting until traffic lights turn red before jumping in front of cars and doing whatever they are good at - be it juggling fire, breakdancing, performing with puppets or body-popping. It certainly makes the wait for a green light go a bit faster, but from what we saw it didn't seem particularly profitable.

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Gilly took us to a pizza place called San Romano for more thin crust action and we decided that we'd seen everything we needed to in Viña. It didn't have the rough charm of Valpo, it just felt like a slightly sterile beach resort so we planned to head to La Serena further north the following day. Ideally we wanted to go to Vicuña to check out the pisco distilleries there, but La Serena looked like it had a good vibe and Vicuña was pretty close anyway, so I booked us into a hostel for a couple of nights while we planned our next leg.

Monday, February 08, 2016

South America (Chile) - Day 69 - 74: Santiago

Franco kindly offered to drop us at the bus station to leave the country the next day, since he only lived a few blocks away, and we gratefully accepted. However, it turns out that bus times in Chile are something of a guess. We should have arrived in Santago at around 6pm, all set to meet Leo in our Couchsurfing abode. We weren't planning on the border crossing being woefully inefficient. albeit possibly the most picturesque country division we've seen.

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Four border desk staff for about a hundred vehicles waiting to cross meant that we ended up getting to Leo's at around 9:30pm after a sketchy time at the bus station where a couple of guys working in tandem tried to divert Gilly's attention in order to potentially steal some of our luggage whilst I was getting food. Fortunately she was savvy enough to give them short shrift - one of the guys banged on the window, miming that he wanted the time so she showed her watch to him. Then he banged again, whilst another guy who was pretending to be on the phone sidled closer to our bags. I think the idea was that she was supposed to engage with the guy behind the window, whilst the other made off with our stuff. When she didn't bite though, the two guys conversed briefly and then left. Always worth being vigilant at bus stations (and anywhere, for that matter...)

Leo lives not far from Bellavista, just south of the river, and walking distance of lots of great places to eat and drink. Not that we needed this, since he cracked open a bottle of fantastic red when we arrived and also had food on hand. Even better, he had a very friendly cat named Cuajinais, who had the most incredible blue eyes.

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Leo was working the next day so we took advantage of a free walking tour nearby, which was run by a French-Canadian guy, and was a little disappointing. He told us very little about the city or its history, instead just taking us to different places (mostly the main markets in Santiago) to take pictures.

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In fairness, the market food was amazing - especially the fruit. The blueberries were the best I've ever eaten and the juices were equally good. Like everywhere in Chile, you have to ask for only a small amount of sugar though, or you'll be given four heaped tablespoons...

After the market, we did visit another cemetery, but it wasn't a patch on Recoleta in BA. That said, there were a couple of interesting mausoleums taking influence from Egyptian and Incan culture.

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This is also the resting place of Salvador Allende, the democratically elected leader who was overthrown by Pinochet when the military took control of the county (helped significantly by the US and supported by Thatcher) and subjected it to a junta which lasted 17 years, and resulted in the murder of thousands of civilians - mostly Allende's supporters. Chile was, and still is, torn between the effect of Pinochet. Some believe that his actions resulted in a much more stable economy for Chile (which is what the US wanted, as well as the removal of a Marxist president), whilst others argue that the means taken to achieve this are unforgivable. It is still a controversial topic of debate for Chileans.

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Aside from the obvious political issues, Chileans are incredibly generous. The sheer amount of earthquakes they suffer frequently leads to homelessness and injury, and the marketplace sellers often send food to the victims.

This national generosity was highlighted perfectly when Leo took us out in the evening to Galindo for our first pisco sour, and also a pastel de choclo. This is a Chilean national dish made of creamed corn, onion, chicken and raisins, before being put in an oven to get a crust. It was a lot sweeter than I was expected and very filling. Not sure I could eat a whole one (they are HUGE) but it was definitely something to go for if you're starving! When we were about to pay for all of us, Leo refused and then insisted on covering our meals - given he had also put us up for two nights, we were a little speechless. We arranged to meet up with him on our final night so we could attempt to repay him!

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Since we were rapidly approaching my birthday, we decided to splash out on an AirBNB for a few nights. They were actually pretty reasonably priced given the city's capital status, so we got four nights in a spotless high-rise apartment apartment with en suite, about twenty minutes' walk from the centre.

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After moving in, we went to the Museum of Contempory Arts, the adjoining Museum of Fine Arts and then Castillo Forestal for a superb lunch, before heading to the Museum of Visual Arts. This last place had a bizarre exhibition created by an obsessed fan of Titanic, who had tried to recreate the film in some sort of shot-for-shot pastiche/homage, using multiple actors, stop-motion, plasticine, cardboard and other oddities. It was hilarious and bizarre in equal measure.

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It was a day to celebrate as Fran was joining us in Santiago, accompanied by her boyfriend Ant who had finally returned after conquering Aconcagua - the tallest mountain in South America. Pisco sours and ceviches were consumed at Chipe Libre before we moved onto another bar in Bellavista for a bottle of red. We were all exhausted, so agreed to meet up again the following night.

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We took a metro to the Museo de la Memoria y los Derechos Humanos the following morning, a centre based over three stories which tried to make sense of the senseless slaughter of the Pinochet regime, as well as having a recording of the last speech Allende made before he committed suicide in La Moneda Palace before it was bombed. If you're in the city, it's a definite must-do. Every country has its dark history and places like this are important in helping future generations try to understand them and hopefully not repeat the mistakes.

The Costanera Centre was next on the agenda to try and find me a replacement beard trimmer, but despite having five floors (and being the tallest shopping centre in South America to boot), I had no luck. So instead we had a walk around a nearby park where kids were enjoying the weather and the water attractions, before heading back to see La Chascona - one of the three homes owned by the legendary poet (and Nobel prize-winner) Pablo Neruda. He was something of a collector of oddities, and his house was quirky in all the right ways. I love nosing around people's houses, and the amount of character on show seemed to reflective of his personality - as the excellent audioguide confirmed.


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We were at Bellavista in the evening to enjoy one of my all-time favourite burgers at Uncle Fletch. It was tremendous, and the pisco sours weren't half bad either. I'd had a hankering for live jazz for some time, so after trawling through the available bars we decided to go to Theolonious Jazz which had a mixture of sheet music and freeform jazz performed by different bands. Both were superb, and we were joined later on by Fran and Ant who'd been out for Fran's postponed birthday dinner.

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Speaking of birthdays, it was mine the next day. Gilly had booked us into two winery tours in the Maipo Valley to celebrate, and Fran and Ant were also along for the ride. We hit Cousiño-Macul first, established in 1856 and one of the bigger vineyards in the country with four red and four white varietals adding up to 6 million litres being produced each year. We tried a Sauvignon Gris, an unusual wine, which Gilly didn't like but I thought was passable, a Cabernet Sauvignon rosé called "Gris" which tasted very strange to all concerned, a 2014 reserva Carmenére (Chile's local red grape - I'm definitely getting into it), and finished with a 2012 Antiguas Reservas Syrah which was superb. Cousiño-Macul also produce a red which won some sort of "world's best" award, but given the amount of medals thrust upon wines at the IWC each year, it's very much down to taste. Ant opted to by a bottle of Finis Terrae which the guide assured us was a superb wine, and he generously offered to share it later that day.

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Meantime, food was in order and it came courtesy of Amigos Del Mar which was in walking distance of the winery. Some superb scallops made up for a tasty if slightly weird crab pie, and from there we headed to Aquitania. The map suggested it was less than 2km, but this didn't take into account the blistering heat along main roads with no shade, so we were a little groggy by the time we finally reached the vineyard. Thankfully, the wonderful Barbara was on hand to refill our water bottles and then took us up to an open-air veranda to admire the vineyard, while she filled us in on the background of the place. It's a 25-year old boutique winery, and compared to the 6 million litres pumped out of Cousiño-Macul, Aquitania only produces 15,000 cases of wine per year. Luckily, the quality is stunning. We tried a 2014 rosé, followed by a 2013 Cabernet Sauvignon and ended on a 2014 Syrah. I loved them all - particularly the rosé which was dangerously drinkable in the heat. The bodega was beautiful, and we got to taste the wines in the garden - Barbara topped us up a number of times, which was much appreciated!

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We headed to Santiago Backpackers to catch up with Fran and Ant, and play some more Monopoly Deal whilst sampling the bottle of wine Ant had bought earlier. It wasn't good news - despite letting it breathe for 45 minutes, it seemed to be lacking something. It was perfectly drinkable, but Ant was devastated about how average it was - probably rightly so, given it cost him around £18. I guess this is why buying wines blind is a bit of a lottery! We had to shoot off not long after for my birthday dinner. Gilly took us to Laminga where I had ribs and spicy mash, with some Carmenére, all fantastic. Gilly's lentil dish wasn't quite as good, unfortunately.

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We were all exhausted after the wine and the heat, so called it a night. For our final day in the city we went to the cultural centre and saw a great exhibition on the samurai, replete with armour and history, as well as an oddly hypnotic video on how samurai swords were made from scratch.

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Leo's new Couchsurfers weren't around in the evening, so we met up with him and went out to Pizza Bella for some thin-crusts and some craft lager where we repaid his earlier generosity. He then took us to La Piojera where he introduced us to the terremoto (earthquake). This is where the drink was originally created and it is like a meal in itself. It's made from white wine (the cheaper, the better), pineapple ice cream(!) and topped up with fernet. If you want the "ladies'" version, grenadine is substituted for fernet - although given this makes the drink sweeter, more drinkable and therefore a lot more dangerous, I'm not sure "ladies" is used pejoratively here. Put it this way - I managed, somehow, to drink one earthquake and it was a struggle. I didn't feel particularly drunk...I just couldn't fit any more liquid in. Ice cream in a cocktail...what? Fran and Ant joined us an hour later where they both tasted their first terremoto too and were equally perplexed. Still, it's two and a half quid and you'll get absolutely battered after two of them, so it's definitely an option for a cheap night - as the locals who photobombed us can attest!

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And so our time in the capital was at a close, and we were all going our separate ways - Fran and Ant were heading south to Patagonia, we were taking a bus to Valparaiso, and Leo....was going home. I had no expectations of Santiago, but a combination of friends old and new helped make our time there very memorable.