< Chile

Chile


Valparaiso, Chile


Santiago - Vina del Mar - Valparaiso - Chillan - Colico - El Colorado


July 27 - August 13, 1999



Last year prior to embarking on this adventure, our original plan on coming home was to utilize our frequent flier miles (of which we both had accumulated enough for just about anything) to fly from southeast Asia back to California. But as the trip progressed, the more we thought about this plan, and the more it made us really uneasy. Frequent flier miles can only be used as a round-trip reservation, and since the "end" of our trip meant "out of money," "no jobs," and "no possibility of traveling for potentially a very long time..." we couldn't foresee us being able to use the return portion of that round trip reservation from SE Asia. And there was simply no way in hell we would ever just give up a free ticket out of America. We racked our brains for a solution and eventually it came to us: buy a one-way ticket home from SE Asia, then use our free round-trip ticket FROM the U.S. to...somewhere. But where? It's a very strange (and wonderful) concept attempting to answer the question, "You have the time and you have the power to go anywhere for free, where's it going to be?" We spent a long time at the United Airlines office in Singapore attempting to decide where exactly we wanted and could go. After running through a plethora of options with the agent (unfortunately, we would be traveling in high season, so the possible destinations were severely limited in availability), we determined South America due to the fact that our route had already nearly covered everywhere else in the world, and finally settled on Peru due to our desire to explore Maccu Piccu. However, there was a problem: we had to be put on a waiting list for one of the legs of the trip, and by the time the end of our Indonesian experience rolled around we were told that that leg didn't look like it would open up for us. Time was running out and we struggled for a quick solution. We were on the phone with United in Jakarta for hours one afternoon asking them to research every possibility of available flights...Australia, Argentina, Iceland, Turkmenistan, Antarctica...and then suddenly the agent shouted, "CHILE! CHILE IS OPEN!" So there it was - we were going to Chile.

So after 359 days out of the country, we finally touched down on U.S. soil briefly in Guam, then had a longer layover in Honolulu. We stood in awe in front of an airport drinking fountain attempting to compute the fact that, yes, we actually could use it, AND it would be cold, AND it would taste OK, AND we wouldn't get liver flukes, AND it actually existed in our presence...we repeatedly took turns drinking, then just kept pressing the button in fascination like Aliens arriving on Earth for the first time. We retired to the gate lounge to rest and attempt to compute this overabundance of stimuli. Then, after our next flight leg, we suddenly found ourselves in a long layover in Los Angeles in the midst of our 91 hour transit hell between Indonesia and Chile. We did what every red-blooded American does in this situation: we called Smilin' Jim.

Love him or hate him, he's still Smilin' Jim

Jim lives in Santa Monica near LAX, and after much coercion, a little attempted blackmail, and eventually a substantial bribe, he agreed to allow us to rest at his apartment until our next flight left. But we couldn't afford a taxi, a rental car or even a pricey airport shuttle...so in keeping with our trip mentality, we pretended we had just arrived in some exotic foreign country and told ourselves to just figure it out. We quickly and easily found a bus that took us from the airport to Jim's door for one dollar. I lived in L.A. for over 7 years and if someone had told me you could get around for a single dollar I never would have believed them. It's amazing what a little research can do.

So we had about half a day in the throes of the indulgent comforts of the first world, and here's what we indulged in: enormous breakfast burritos, a couple hours sleep in a real bed, flipping through TV channels and eventually settling on bad American sitcoms, damn good beer, and last but certainly not least: sushi (we can all thank Jim for this treat - he paid AND drove!). When we returned to the airport to catch our flight, we had been re energized enough to handle the fact that our flight had been delayed for 8 more hours, and headed off to find some food and relax. It was there that my dad suddenly appeared in front of us. It was a totally unexpected and amazing treat...not to mention a huge shock! My mom knew we were in transit limbo down in L.A. and had called and left a message for my dad who was in the middle of a meeting somewhere nearby - he slipped out and scoured LAX trying to find us. After unsuccessfully checking the gate and repeatedly paging us, he stopped and thought, "Now where would I be if I were Chris and Paige right now...?" It was then that he began looking for a Mexican restaurant. And it was there behind the empty salsa containers littering our table that he found us. A totally unexpected treat, and we were both super excited and a little homesick when we finally boarded the plane.

So a mere 91 hours from leaving Lombok, we finally touched down in Santiago, Chile...and proceeded to sleep for the next gloriously uninterrupted 19 hours. And what did we do when we finally woke up in this new exotic country?...That's right, we took a nice long nap. Yep, I have a feeling we're really going to miss the "not having a job" factor of this past year.

Santiago was fantastic - an absolutely beautiful and modern city. As we adjusted to this antithesis of Southeast Asian culture, we quickly realized three very important things: 1) It was DAMN cold - the heart of their winter, 2) All the businesses are "Erias," i.e. - "Sandwicheria," (sandwich shop), "Schopperia" ("Schopp" means "draft beer"), "Pasteleria" (pastry shop), and "Urethraeria" (...perhaps a urologist...I confess, we were a little afraid to find out for sure), and lastly 3) Everybody and their madre eats hot dogs slathered in mayonnaise. More on this frightening tidbit later. As we explored around the intricate and crowded pedestrian walkways, extensive parks and historical monuments, we were constantly in awe of the picturesque snow-capped mountains bordering our every view to the east and appearing to fill in the spaces between the skyscrapers and church steeples. We spent a disproportionate amount of time in the Central Market which is a huge building filled with amazing fresh seafood stands, fruit and vegetable displays and a string of small, colorful and bustling seafood restaurants looking out within the constant pandemonium. We scarfed fresh bread, seafood and amazing red wine while elderly gap-toothed guitarists circulated around the tables serenading us all in lispy Spanish.

From Santiago we took a luxurious bus to the port city of Valparaiso - one of the most important and busy port cities in the world prior to the Panama Canal. (Gotta love the bus system in Chile: beautiful modern buses with central air, multiple stewards and endless supply of refreshments - most prominently with large cold bottles of Chile's national soft drinks: "Bilz," a strawberry flavored soda, and the inviting and mouth-wateringly named "Pap," a bubblegum-flavored soda adorned only with the blood red word, "PAP" to entice thirsty buyers).

Today, Valparaiso is a fascinating and endlessly interesting town set within the hills of a huge bay overlooking the ships and coastline of the Pacific. When we arrived, we decided we wanted to stay up in the hills so that we could experience the amazing views on a daily basis. In the 1880's, Valparaiso built a number of "ascensors" which are like outdoor elevator-railroad tracks that transport people nearly straight up the hills. They are old and rickety and you can imagine them faltering and sending you rocketing through space to a gruesome (but unique) death at any time, but along with the views and history, this is all part of the charm. We crammed our backpacks and our bodies into the Concepcion Ascensor and took it creaking to the top of the hill. We were immediately in awe of the view.

One of Valparaiso's many ascensors

We quickly located the address of the hotel we had chosen and were immediately rendered helpless by the fact that it no longer existed. I guess we must have looked pitiful and beaten as we stood gaping in the middle of the street wondering what to do next, because an elderly man in thick Pap-bottle horn-rimmed glasses approached us and led us to his friend's house. We suddenly found ourselves on a small, quiet and empty street standing in front of a huge old Victorian house - an unlisted and unnamed "residencial" - whose manager proceeded to put us up in a beautiful large room decorated with antiques and squeaky polished wood floors and stairs. We fell in love with it and spent a good portion of each day climbing to the top of the house and then up through the roof to open a bottle of red wine and soak in the views of the enormous bay and beautiful surrounding hills. The small quaint church bell tower across the street chimed every hour throughout the night enhancing the atmosphere.

Guitar on our rooftop with the church steeple in the background

Near our "hotel," a local restaurant overlooking Valparaiso

We further explored this area by staying a night in Vina del Mar, 5 km to the north. Vina is one of the most popular beach resorts in Chile...during the summer. Instead, we found it empty and cold and spent the afternoon and a night huddled deep under the covers in a small, flimsy, non-heated room attempting to maintain feeling in our extremeties. Get your mind out of the gutter...

A lot further south of Santiago we explored the cities of Chillan and Colico in an attempt to effectively utilize every moment of the waning time we had left on our trip. Chillan was fantastic. A small but beautiful town, clean and fun with lots to see and do. Their central market is renowned in Chile, and we easily spent an afternoon just walking around admiring the enormous stacks of colorful fruit defying gravity and weathered merchants peddling their wares: weavings, pottery, handmade clothes, PAPerias...

Our first night in Chillan we arrived late and found ourselves housed in a tiny hostel that seemed to cater almost exclusively to Chilean truck drivers. We were exhausted from a day on the bus and noticed that the lady of the house was cooking dinner for the roomful of hardened men. By the way, a little side note here - one of my favorite aspects about Chile was the consistent appearance of these lady manager/maids running these hotels/hostels: plump figure, worn pink petticoat with weathered pink apron, and thick, blood red lipstick applied to lips and area directly surrounding lips. Chilean Hazels. Hazelerias. OK, anyway, we asked the petticoat lady if we could buy a plate of whatever she was whipping up thinking that we would have the opportunity to indulge in some "real" Chilean home-cooking. I guess we should be happy we weren't served mayo-laden hot dogs, although what we were served wasn't much better: an overcooked pot-roast heap in color and texture, of potatoes, carrots, gravy and thick gristle-fat...muttonish or something. Not good, but thankfully we had a couple oranges and a bottle of wine tucked away for just such an emergency.

Needless to say, we were not impressed with Chilean food whatsoever throughout our time there. I am still confused with their love affair with these hot dogs. Every block has multiple "Schopperias" with lunch time deals of "Completos" (a luke warm dog swimming in mucasy yellowish mayonnaise, tomatoes & avocados) and draft beer. In contrast to our Asian near-vegetarian experience for the past seven months, we suddenly found ourselves immersed in a sea of carnivores. It was a major shock to our eyes and intestines. Mornings, however, were a whole different ballgame. We would get to a Pasteleria and order up "Pino Empanadas" every day - a baked pastry thing wrapped around beef, sauce, onions, hard-boiled egg and olives. Really good. This was only topped off by the Cafe shops. Think: Bangkok, Patpong Road sin city. Cafe shops have black tinted windows so that you can't see in, are patronized exclusively by men in sharp, swarthy business suits and are laden with scantily-clad waitresses in black stockings and miniskirts, thongs and the lowest-cut tops you've ever seen outside a Victoria's Secret catalogue. And believe it or not, all they're serving are espressos and cappucinos! Although I wouldn't have anticipated that this was an experience that both Paige and I would enjoy sharing together, I was absolutely wrong. She - more for the eccentricity of the experience than the attire...and me?...I only liked it for their quality coffee beans and standards of clenliness. Cha. Most people add milk and sugar to their coffees, Chileans add thongs and cleavage. Every morning we would excitedly wake up and head out for our empanadas, espressos and morning boobs. It's easy to see why they are so popular: they really get the blood rushing in the morning...in more ways than one.

Being that it was the middle of winter, we were consistently the only tourists around, meaning that we never had a problem finding a hotel rooms and we could haggle them WAY down on the price. In Chillan we moved hotels on the second day and significanly upgraded to a nice empty hotel. Good thing too, because in keeping with my stomach problems of late, it was then that I proceeded to indulge in yet another bout of severe food poisoning. After a night of vomiting, I holed up in our room sleeping and watching Chilean TV. My quick recovery was as much a result of Paige's nurturing as the showing of "The Karate Kid" dubbed in Spanish that evening. Who would have thought that "Wax-on, wax-off" could be as effective in a language other than English?

Paige writing now...When you read that we were going to Chile, we wouldn't have blamed you if you had thought that we were a few cards short of a deck. But if you were a passionate traveler seeking adventure far and wide, what would make you the happiest? Well, a free plane ticket anywhere in the world. Granted we know that many people prefer a nice Hyatt with room service and fluffy white towels and a swim-up bar at the pool, but for Chris and I, just the idea of flying free to some unknown experience makes our hearts race faster. So does the onset of travelers diarrhea, but that's another story... We diligently researched visiting such places as Australia (Hi Rana and Wayne!), Argentina (Hi Traci, Tom and Chris!), Iceland (Hi Bjork!), and Peru (Hi Lake Titicaca!). But in the end it just wasn't meant to be, and when it finally came down to the wire we told the ticket agent, "Fine, we'll go anywhere in South America" and Chile came up first. We love spontaneity!!!

So, now onto to more fun stuff. Our flights to California took forever, which is no big surprise. When we arrived in Lala land, we had some time to kill before the next leg to Miami, and that's when we called one of our friends to meet up for dinner. Since our dwindling finances were nearing our pre-teenage bank account levels, we had to find the cheapest option of getting to Santa Monica. Therefore, in the spirit of this mostly 3rd-world journey (with our newly acquired skills of grit and thick-skinned hardiness), we strapped on the backpacks and walked up to the information board. Hundreds of little colorful squares detailed the various car rental agencies, shuttle bus services and endless franchise hotels ready and waiting for our patronage. While standing in front of this technicolor rainbow, a man approached us to offer his assistance. Immediately my cynical paranoia kicked in and I assumed he was a tout for a shuttle bus company figuring he only wanted to get us away from his competitors. Then I noticed his laminated name tag "employee of LAX" around his neck and felt foolish. I think I'm going to have to tone down my cynical nature. I also didn't mention that when we were on a layover in Guam's airport, the gift shop attendant didn't appreciate it when I tried to haggle her down on the price of M&M's. We're gonna have a hard time re-adjusting to life in America.

Onto South America....I will never forget our first glimpse of Chile as the plane descended at dawn with a view for hundreds of miles of snow-capped mountains poking out of white billowy clouds. The Andes were spectacular. 8 out of 10 of the world's active volcanoes are located in Chile. They are so beautiful and majestic that I couldn't come close to describing their sheer size and grandeur. Then the thought dawned on me that we had just come from hot, humid Southeast Asia and our thin, beach clothing might be a problem. Many months earlier in Bangkok, we had shipped home all the warm clothing we had used in the Nepal Himalayas. I knew we were in trouble when I looked out the plane window and noticed icicles forming on the outer windows and all the Chilean passengers were pulling thick sweaters out of their carry-on bags. Chris was in shorts, I was in a short-sleeved linen shirt made in India. When we got off the plane and walked across the tarmac to the airport shuttle bus, we could see our breath clouding up. It was going to be a long, cold 3 weeks! You'd think that after a year of traveling around the world, we would be smart by now and research weather before we jumped on a plane.

After the normal airport routine of customs and baggage claim, we easily found public transportation into Santiago's city center. It started to rain, so we scurried down into the underground metro (subway) to get to the guesthouse we had picked out of our guidebook. After we checked in and slept, our first task was to put on every stitch of clothing we had and then set out to buy sweaters.

For the next few days, we explored this very modern capital that felt more like Madrid than any other place I've ever been. Similar architecture and tree-lined avenues. Dark clothing and leather jackets are the norm, and the olive skin complexions reminded me of the colonial history of the Spanish conquistadors. For some strange reason, I had always figured that all South Americans looked like our neighbors south of the border. How wrong and misguided we are. Since we had come to Chile not knowing a thing about it, our expectations were nil and we didn't even know which places to visit. We stopped by the tourist information office and they were not much help. Since I had arrogantly shot off my mouth before our arrival to Chris about my level of Spanish in comparison to his, I was humbly shocked by the woman at the TI office. She spoke at a decibel only suited for a mouse and she conveniently dropped every "s"; I think I only got about one quarter of the words she used to describe the lake district and volcanoes of the south and the desert north. She rambled something about indigenous peoples to the north and I was totally lost. But, of course, I didn't let on to Chris about my total ignorance and when he asked me to flesh out all the parts he had missed afterwards, I made up a long story and description based entirely off of some of the pictures I had glimpsed in the tourist office. He seemed to buy it and off we went. A few hours later while Chris was in the shower, I secretly read up in our Lonely Planet in order to salvage my pride and proceeded to give him a detailed list of itinerary possibilities and the cultural experiences we could expect to encounter within each stage under the guise of coming from the tourist office lady. He later confessed that he would have bought it if I hadn't gone so overboard on my research and presentation. Perhaps the flip charts, telephone polls and constant referrals to "My good friend "Nona" down at the tourist office recommended..." were what tipped him off. For the next few weeks, I had to strain my ears constantly to catch the disappearing "s's" from the Chilean interpretation of Spanish. Very humbling. Luckily, the Chileans were very patient with us in our feeble attempt to communicate and by the end of our stay I was up to par and dropping not only all the "s's," but also the "n's," "o's," and "rr's."

In a quick nutshell of our three weeks... We visited the coastal region just west of Santiago for about a week and a week in the town 8-hours south of Santiago called Chillan. We didn't do much besides meandering around the cold, foggy streets of middle class Chile. The towns of Vina del Mar and Valparaiso are popular spots in the summertime (Nov-Feb) for Chileans visiting the beach, which was obviously not an option for us. So we drank a lot of Chilean wine with great seafood and bummed around the public parks. The towns are all designed ala Spain with a beautiful park square, big shady trees, iron-work gazebos and benches, including pigeons-a-plenty (rats-with-wings) and retired old men feeding them. We spent an afternoon outside Colico wine tasting at a vineyard and getting educated about Chilean "tinto"s and "blanco"s.

An absolute event not to miss was our excursion to the Andes for skiing. The opportunity of skiing in South America AND in the middle of August was just too good to miss, no matter what the cost. Actually, the cost of skiing was reasonable (about $30/each) but the added rental of skis, boots, clothing, etc. really made us weigh the decision carefully. And it was totally worth every peso. The bus ride from Santiago only took about an hour and the mountains were stunning. From the top of the ski lifts, you could see snow-capped mountains stretching forever in the distance. When our shuttle bus driver told us that he'd be back at 5:00 p.m. to pick us up, I figured that we'd be bored waiting around since I usually poop out about 3 o'clock in the Sierras. However, El Colorado, our chosen ski resort, was relatively small and I skied up until the very last possible minute. Not once did we ever share the lift with anyone because the resort was so empty, and the runs were wide open with a perfect powder pack. I'll never forget it.

El Colorado

I kinda breezed through our short stay because after only one week back, I've already forgotten some of the interesting tidbits and cultural differences. All in all, Chile was very similar to life here at home. Except for the fact that they speak a different language and eat lots of hot dogs.

Chris back again one last time... For the last couple months I've been thinking about the philosophical things I was going to ponder in this last update. But having been home now for a week, I've changed my mind. We have thoroughly enjoyed writing these updates and receiving comments back from many of you. It has both helped us detail the trip chronologically and maintain a connection with all of you. I'm sure you realize that these writings have been extremely sensationalistic in nature for the purpose of hopefully keeeping you interested. We didn't take this trip for any other reason than for ourselves. Our writings covered maybe 1/1000 of our experiences; by far the majority of what we went through is just too personal...in the best possible way. I think that when we originally took off on our trip we were under the false impression that our year would entail a year's worth of valuable exposure and education in experiencing cultures around the world. Actually, that was only part of it. The majority of our year was our interaction and education of each other. To us, this experience was only about us, and in that regard it feels like the most personal thing in the world. Sharing parts of it with all of you seemed to validate and inspire us to expand, broaden and especially to continue. This link of communication was extremely important to us, and we really want to thank each of you for both being part of it and making us feel homesick in the best way.

Already it seems as if the trip is fading into hazy, dreamlike memories. We've been back a week and we just haven't been able to grasp the feelings and emotions that appear to be controlling us. I guess you could say that we're "coming down" from the experience and the lifestyle. We love and crave the comforts of home, but our life and our job for the past 376 days has been travel...and although it is truly fun, it's not easy. Other travelers constantly told us that the hardest part of the whole thing isn't planning it, it isn't funding it or quitting your jobs, it isn't even dealing with the "unknown," it's coming back home. And they also told us that there's only one cure for the way it makes you feel... planning your next trip.


So until next time,

Thanks for reading!

Grizd & Fajita
chrisandpaige@hotmail.com
http://www.tarantism.com



P.S. FACTS AND STATISTICS ABOUT THE TRIP:

DAYS GONE: 376
COUNTRIES VISITED: 23
CONTINENTS COVERED: 5
COCA-COLAS CONSUMED: 1377
BORDER CROSSINGS (BY TYPE): 26
PLANE: 12
BOAT: 2
BUS: 4
TRAIN: 2
FOOT: 6
MCDONALDS VISITS: 0 (and proud of it too!)
BOOKS READ: 112
NEAR DEATH EXPERIENCES: 4
HOSPITALS VISITED ON THE ROAD: 9
TOP FIVE COUNTRIES WE WOULD REVISIT: Turkey, Nepal, Egypt, Malawi, Ireland
PAIGE'S FAVORITE FOOD: Fire roasted chicken - Areopolis, Greece
CHRIS' FAVORITE FOOD: BBQ Rockfish - Arambol, Goa - India
LONGEST CHICKEN BUS RIDE: 18 hrs - Lusaka, Zambia to Lilongwe, Malawi
FAVORITE WORD LEARNED ON THE TRIP: Kebap
LONGEST TIME IN A COUNTRY: 3 months - India
SHORTEST TIME IN A COUNTRY: Syria & Pakistan - 6 hours
BEST BEER: Ireland
BEST WINE: Italy, Israel, Chile
CONSISTENTLY THE BEST FOOD: India
CONSISTENTLY THE WORST FOOD: East Africa
HIGHEST ELEVATION REACHED: 19,344 feet - Mt. Kilimanjaro
LOWEST ELEVATION REACHED: -105 feet - Red Sea
NUMBER OF TIMES ROBBED: 0
NUMBER OF TIMES TOUTS TRIED TO RIP US OFF: 3,428
AMOUNT OF TRIP-MONEY LEFT WHEN WE CAME HOME: 0

My personal homage to our reunion with toilet paper