We have swapped our home for a different base each
day; our boat for a car; seascapes for mountains and vast plains; the spring
for the autumn; the sweltering heat for the cold and fog; the lush tropical
vegetation to that of arid desert, where only irrigation makes it
green. The sun goes round to the north. Few people speak any
English, and whilst we have started to learn Spanish, we have found sign
language very useful. In the last three weeks we have come across just
one other Brit.
Now that might sound rather gloomy, but it’s
not, it’s just very different.
Flying in to Santiago
gave us the opportunity to explore some of Chile’s capital. Its Spanish
history is evidenced in some of the architecture, tree-lined avenues and wide
pavements, which are so tailored for café tables and people-watching. It
is busy and bustling, has an excellent metro system, three universities and a
thriving, modern business area. Yet it doesn’t feel like a European city
and has quite an inward-looking rather than international feel. Although
there are clear differences between those who are of Spanish descent, rather
than Amerindian, and there are immigrants from Bolivia
and Peru,
there is not the same diversity of people as you would get in a European city.
I felt very tall and foreign-looking and John was the only person on the metro
with distinguished ‘silver’ hair!
With Chile
being long and thin and its eastern border defined by the vast Andes, apart from the obvious direction of heading
towards the coast, we had to decide whether to head north or south. It takes
hours to drive a tiny fraction of the country and, with the autumn chill and
shortening days we took a route out to the coast and north.
The guide book and tourist office spoke poetically of Valparaiso – a port, whose city was spread out over
42 hills and that promised colour, ethnicity and an experience of the true Chile.
It is a Unesco World Heritage Site.
It took us at least 24 hours to come to terms with
what we found. The Humboldt Current that sweeps up from the Antarctic often
creates a dank fog over the coastline, draining the colour, making everything
monochrome. In 2009 Chile experienced an 8.7 earthquake and Valparaiso
has raw scars where houses, perched precariously on a hillside have just slid
into oblivion and walls and cobbled roads now have large cracks, with damaged
pavements difficult to negotiate. Many buildings are now merely a façade,
with doors and windows boarded up. We were surprised by how much graffiti there
had been in Santiago,
but this town was extraordinary! Graffiti is on everything: doors,
fencing, paving stones, corrugated walls, rock, archways, steps, and much of it
superb art.
Dogs are everywhere in Chile,
but Valparaiso
is the dog capital. It is estimated that the town has 85,000 of them,
nearly all of which live on the streets. Although many are rather mangy,
they seem happy to roam in groups, chase cars, lounge on the pavements and
scavenge for scraps. They provide a whole new dimension to city life.
The guide book and locals warned us to be careful of
pickpockets and that it was best to use a taxi late at night. The graffiti, the
street dogs, the scars of the earthquake and obvious hardship, the eerie glow
cast by the neon lights and the warning of danger made that first evening in Valparaiso wandering the
steep streets in search of a restaurant a surreal experience!
However, the next day we were introduced to Boris, who
gave up a whole new perspective on the city and who left us feeling enriched by
the experience of visiting it.
Boris, a Chilean ballet dancer, who gives ethnic
cooking classes and walking tours, took us to a very special fish market.
Not only is the fish sold from the boats that have been hauled up on the quay,
but, rather than seagulls wheeling overhead you have pelicans – perched
on the bow, lined up on the railings, sat on the roof of the building.
Below the pier there is a colony of seals hoping for an easy lunch. It was fun
that the fishermen were keen to pose, outdoing each other on how ugly or how
slippery a fish they could find for the camera.
Boris introduced us to the delights of empanadas
(similar to miniature Cornish pasties), which are a national snack and often
the first course of diner. He explained that, with only about 4 days of rain
each year, the school children will stay at home if it rains, presumably for
fear of getting wet. He took us on one of the three funicular railways that are
still in operation, and pointed out that there was now funding to have 10 of the
original 14 funiculars reinstated. (Don’t
forget the 42 hills here.) We saw a huge military parade – a practice run
for the President’s arrival for the 25th May celebrations
(which commemorate independence from the Spanish). Having previously seen the dross
that epitomises so much of graffiti, Boris was able to show us some that is
actually really imaginative, artistic and fun, and which gives vibrancy and a
feeling of hope.
We drove the main (if not only) road north, about 300
miles and as far as the vineyard growing area of the Elqui Valley.
It seems that, due to the cold current, the coastal road is often shrouded in
mist. Yet the lack of rain, dry soil and rather unremarkable countryside
makes it a rather barren and uninspiring area, with vast tract of land
completely empty.
Yet in the areas where vines are growing, slightly
away from the coast and irrigated by the water from the Andes,
it is as though someone has switched on a light: there is colour, life and a
bustling community. The Elqui
Valley was stunning, with
vineyards carpeting the valley floor, the edges curling up in to the rocky
slopes of the mountains. It seemed that every bit of workable land was
being put to good use. The same was true in the Central
Valley, only a much bigger scale, with long-established estancias
and bodegas geared to receiving large numbers of visitors. We had an
enjoyable time exploring this vast wine-producing area (and tasting some of the
wines of course) and were amazed at just how much new planting in going on.
Bus transportation is the
way to get about in this vast country. It is inexpensive and
very efficient. We took the bus on the seven hour journey over the Andes
from Santiago in Chile
to Mendoza in Argentina. As we climbed, so
each twist in the road gave us another striking view of these majestic
mountains, the scale of which is hard to grasp.