Santiago, Thrice is Nice

It´s sorta hard to write an entry on Santiago the city, partly because Santiago always stood for something else. It was the place we had to go to get to Easter Island and Valparaiso, it was where we came back to, and ultimately it is the city which we fly back to the States from. As a result, Santiago is a place full of anxiety, anticipation and sadness.

But as a city, it has treated us remarkably well. The lesson that we were taught throughout the trip is that cities rise and fall in our estimation based upon the quality/availability of food and the lodgings we stay in. In Santiago, there were a few good veggie options (plus more bad pizza, sadly), but the hospedaje that we stayed in made us love the city. Located in the heart of downtown, the Green House is run by a family that seems to revel in going out of their way to help travellers. Each time we left, they kept luggage for us, did laundry and each time we came back they helped orient us to the city and tell us how to find places to eat. Nice way to end a trip that has included a full range of places.

The city itself is somewhat lacking in charm--being as it is a business capital. There are a few wonderful plazas to walk through, a smattering of cathedrals and parks, some very strange sand art by hundreds of young Catholic children, but it somehow lacks the energy of our favorite stops. As I said, Santiago just stands for so many other things for us. And while we are tired, and while Santiago didn´t fully charm us, we would love for Santiago to be the place where some kind patron gave us a boatload of money to keep travelling.


-d

Valparaiso (I´m Well Aquainted with the Works of Pablo Neruda)

Desperation has set in as the international leg of our trip is now hours from being over. With that anxiety in mind, we decided to squeeze one more city onto the itinerary. Valparaiso is a seaside town with rolling hills hugging the port. The hills are covered with all forms of brightly colored, dilapidated structures made from combinations of corrugated metal and stone. The fact that the city experiences quite a bit of earthquakes combined with the, admittedly beautiful, slapdash structures gave an element of danger to our visit.

The problem for Kristi and me is that in the entire 9 months we have been out of North America, we have had exactly 10 days of bad weather. We have grown soft. Very soft. We spent two days, hiking up and down the hills of Valparaiso getting drenched by a fog\rain that made Eugene, Oregon in winter look like Phoenix. So, while the UENESCO World Heritage parts of the city are wonderful, we may, just may, have prayed to find an indoor mall. We also found ourselves relying a bit much on the turn-of-the-century ´ascensors´, rickety wooden box-style funiculars that scale some of the steepest hills for a modest fee, thus adding another element of danger to our visit.

The highlight of our stay was our visit to the poet Pablo Neruda´s (less famous) house. The house is constructed with a panoramic view of the city and is itself an amalgam of the city. Portholes from ships line the stairwell, salvaged stained glass, custom designed fireplaces, model ships, and a study that groans like a ship at sea when the wind blows all come together with a strange unity. There is even a small ¨heliport¨on top of the home for future travels to the stars. Poets think of everything.

-d

Easter Island/ Isla de Pascua/ Rapa Nui/ Fantasy Island

Ah, Easter Island. The mystery, the allure, the end-of-the-world tiki-ness of the place. When we stepped off the plane onto the narrow airstrip surrounded by palm trees and stone sculptures, with a host of lei-bearing residents waiting for us in the tiniest airport ever, it felt a bit like Fantasy Island. It seemed it couldn´t be possible that we were actually there, despite the 6 hour flight from Santiago. But seeing no man dressed in a white suit, we chose to believe it and felt extra lucky that this remote destination was a possibility on our round-the-world ticket, since the cost of getting here from DC would be twice as much as what we spent on our 20-stop ticket.

After choosing a place to stay from one of the people that show up at the airport with rooms to rent, we settled in and explored the major town on the island, Hanga Roa. As this task only took about 15 minutes, we spent the rest of the day relaxing, looking at some of the moai (big tiki guys), cooking up some dinner, and watching the sun set.

Rapa Nui turned out to be the ideal stop for us as we were winding down the trip. We went on plenty of fun day trips filled with looking at ruins, learning about the anthropology of the island (I won´t spoil the mystery and allure by divulging what we learned here), going to the beach, scrambling around the craggy volcanic coastline, and plain hiking around. We also spent a good amount of time relaxing around our little apartment, playing backgammon, and discussing how long we could stay on this 12-km-long island without getting bored. We settled on 2-3 months on our current budget and 5 months on a bigger budget. Did I mention that the island is jam-packed with wild ponies?

-k

Don´t Cry For Me Argentina

So Mendoza is the last stop for us in Argentina, and as a result we have decided to get that Evita song in your head. You are most welcome. As a town, Mendoza is a more affluent, more touristy version of Cordoba. The main attractions all center around the looming Andes mountains. But, because we are cheap bastards and cheap bastard serendipity is on our side, we showed up in the very small sliver of low season. Too early for skiing. To late for rafting, skydiving, zip-lining, fly fishing, full contact parasailing, or whatever else the kids are into these days.

But the slight chill in the air did not stop us from doing the tourist thing. We decided on a whim to do a bit of rafting despite the river not being at its full awesome level. Off-season made it affordable and the fact that all of the companies that offer rafting were around the corner from our fabulous hotel made it an easy decision. So I have been rafting a few times but it was Kristi´s first go. The fact that the rapids were basically a class lower than normal meant that we would not be doing the crazy-dangerous stuff, but it would still be a fun intro.

So early one morning, we woke to find our goggle-wearing guide Jose standing in front our hotel waiting for us. Apart from being a wonderfully dopey guide, Jose sported a look that seems a bit too common in the southern hemisphere. It combines the worst of the mullet with the worst of the white-guy-dreadlocks. Not good on anyone. After a drive through the slopes of the Andes and a brief hauling of the raft down to the river, we were off.

Jose quickly made up for the diminished rapids by forcing our boat of five people to stand on the edge of the raft while going down some small riffles, making us nose the boat underwater and fill it right before we hit a rock, try over and over again to get me soaked while keeping Kristi miraculously dry. Apart from the cold, rafting was absolutely great.

The rest of the time in Mendoza we spent enjoying the region´s abundant and cheap wine (for those wishing to win a free something-or-other, count the number of times we have used the word ¨cheap¨on our website, and if you get it right, you will receive the whatsit), playing some backgammon, checking out craft fairs and shopping for a lasso. Only two people will understand why, the rest of you can just live with the possibility that K and I are rustling some ´pacas down in Chile right about now...

Farewell, Argentina and happy independence day! Vaminos Chile!

-d

Cordoba, Thanks for the Hippies

Perhaps it is the fact that our trip is 17 days from finishing, but we are both starting to tie up our experiences and connect everything we see to something we saw earlier. To wit, Cordoba reminded me of Nelson, New Zealand. Both towns are full of younger folks, with quite a bit of hippie influnce. The difference is that Cordoba is bigger and not filled with Kiwis. But, after days of bad pizzas, the presence of hippies meant that vegetarian food was to be available. One of the happiest days we´ve had on the trip was eating at a vegetarian restaurant which was the best place we have eaten all trip and knowing that there was no ham or beef in any of it. Much like getting to the top of Kili, I almost wept.

Anyhoo, the town itself has a rather compact central area with loads of pedestrian streets crowded with people at all hours. Spending a few days just roaming around with no have-to-dos was quite nice. Cordoba, the original capitol, has a 400 year history of Jesuit influence resulting in a load of old churches in various stateds of disrepair. Plus, nuns aplenty roaming about. But, to balance the religious with the earthly, Cordoba also boasts the most undergarments stores with giant billboards of ladies and gents in various states of undressedness. Sin and salvation, I tell ye.

On the subject of sin and redemption...okay, I have no real segue. In any case, the other main drama concerned our accommodation. The reviews of our particular residencia mentioned that the woman that ran the place was a bit cantankerous. Upon first meeting her, it seemed to be the case. But that only made us want to chat with her more. What made her tick? And what made that ticking sound like a time-bomb? All we can say is that with a little perserverance, we were able to have a few conversations that went well. She ran hot and cold, but there was no clear reason. So having to fill in the gaps, here is what K and I decided: She was a flamenco star, and met the man who was to become her husband. They danced together, got married. Then, he screwed up (maybe in some sort of competition, say) and she has been living on anger and regret ever since. Now it may sound like a movie, maybe even one that came out about a decade ago, but we are pretty sure it's probably, could be, might be right. Right?

-d

Iguazu Falls Spectacular

OK, before actually describing the falls themselves, I have to say a word about how we got there. From Buenos Aires, it´s a 21 hour bus ride up to northeastern Argentina, where the falls border Brasil, with Paraguay not too far off. While we were initially dreading the long overnight bus trip, we had heard good reports of the buses in Argentina, so we never thought about cancelling the long-haul trip. The bus definitely exceeded all expectations and was not only better than every other bus we´ve taken, but better than many of the hotels we´ve slept in along this trip. Picture, if you will, being greeted at your seat with your choice of hard candy and whiskey or chocolate liquer, then reclining in a huge cushy seat with foot rest, pillow, and blanket in order to watch movies and eat dinner, then drift into sleep. Ahhh.

After dragging Dennis off of the bus, we swore we would take at least two more overnight buses in Argentina, which happens to work out really well for our tight schedule here.

Of course, the main attraction, Iguazu Falls, was amazing. We woke up early and spent an entire day walking the trails to catch the many different views of the falls. It was really wonderful experience because the falls are enormous and surrounded by dense forest and many smaller waterfalls, so we got to see a lot of birds, including the flocks of sparrows that dive through the falls to their nests, and the cute, popular, and trash-eating coati mundis. Sadly, we didn´t encounter any jaguars or capybaras while wandering through the forest. Many of the walking paths are elevated over sections of the river, so we also saw a lot of giant fish in the shallows and a crocodile that seemed content staying perfectly still for nearly an hour.

The park isn´t all about pristine nature, however. It has a few free amenities, like a narrow-gauge railway that runs through the park. We also took a small boat to an island downstream from the falls and in the middle of the river, which had some nice views of the falls and a beach where a few brave folks were swimming. We decided to stay dry, and because we were here in Autumn when the water volume isn´t super high, we mostly succeeded.

After a pretty exhasting but energizing day (go negative ions!), we headed back to the cute tourist town of Puerto Iguazu to eat some more pizza (sigh). I could imagine staying here for several days to just relax, see the falls some more (maybe even from the Brazilian side if visas weren´t an issue), or try some of the rafting and hiking available in the huge park. But alas, our plans have us pushing ahead to Cordoba, which is reportedly ¨the second most important city¨in Argentina, and trying our hand at a second overnight bus trip.

-K

Hola, Buenos Aires

So after three relatively cushy weeks in Spain filled with all the cults, cookies, and coffee we could manage, we arrived in Buenos Aires. We got to feel like ¨real¨travellers again by opting to take the two hour public bus from the airport for thirty cents instead of a shuttle or cab for thirty bucks. We arrived at our Diego Maradona-themed hostel room feeling tired from the long overnight flight and pretty self-satified. For those that don´t follow football (soccer), Maradona was one of the greatest players of all time, and is literally revered as a god throughout Argentina (yes, there´s even a church of Maradona). Sadly, he´s not the most romantic of icons, so falling asleep surrounded by posters and paintings of him was a bit discomforting.

One nap later and we were ready to tackle trying to get some vegetarian food, which we heard would be nearly impossible because steak, steak, and more steak is the name of the game in Argentina. What no one told us is that there are more pizza joints per capita than any place we´ve ever been. After some tasty empanadas and pizza, we were sucking in our guts and wandering our new ´hood,´ a laid-back little neighborhood north of the central city which oddly reminded us both of parts of Chicago. After hearing our first ¨car backfiring¨ some hours later, we really felt at home. Nobody´s got the guns like the Americas!

Since we only had a few days in Buenos Aires, we decided to hit the pavement and do some major sightseeing. We went to the excellent Museo de Arte Latinoamericano de Buenos Aires and fell in love with a couple of artists we never knew existed. We also wandered through a park silly with cats, two of whom looked just like Maxine and Ruby and were sitting together near an empty bench. After sitting a while and wishing we had bought some food, we moved on look at some of the cool colonial and post-colonial architecture in central B.A.

We spent a day exploring the working class La Boca neighborhood, home, of course, to Maradona and the Boca Juniors football club. Although we were hoping to see a match to experience 80,000 crazed and caged-in fans, they weren´t playing a league match while we were there. Instead, we checked out the local artists and colorfully-painted metal homes that lie near the harbor. We also enjoyed the Museo de Bellas Artes de La Boca, housed in the old studio and home of painter Benito Quinquela Martin, with great views of the harbor and the city. On the way back, we stopped in at a sidewalk cafe to have a beer with an enormous, life-sized (?) Homer Simpson and listen to tango music. Strangely, the only things more popular in B.A. than Homer Simpson are the colors blue and yellow. What´s not to love?

-K