Chile II

After a typically rough St. Patty's Day on Thursday, I was waiting in my hotel lobby for Pedro to pick me up when I received the following text from me:

"Hey you, hope ur trip is going well. My week is stressful so far and im worried about smtg which i hope is false alarm. Miss u."

False alarm, huh? So we could only be talking about fire alarms or pregnancy scares, and since the first wouldn't involve me, it didn't take me very long to figure out what she was talking about. I sent her a text asking how overdue she was and ordered another espresso because it seemed like bad form to drink a vodka cocktail at 7:45am.

I was a few thousand miles away, and since there wasn't anything I could do, I decided not to stress over it just yet and go to work.

While I was working I got a text from my Canadian friend saying she had an "interview" Saturday morning and wasn't going to be able to make it to the beach with me. I kind of expected this because I knew she saw me making out with the Chilean girl. It didn't seem like a huge loss, though, since I didn't know her very well. Plus, with the recent text from ME I considered that perhaps I didn't need an added element of stress on my trip and that it could be good to get away alone.

After work Pedro brought me to the bus station where I bought a $7 ticket to Valparaiso, a two hour ride away. I boarded the bus at 9pm with a beer and a
"completo", which is the most fantastic hot dog creation in the world - a giant pork-dog concoction of sauerkraut, relish, guacamole, tomato, and onion, stuffed in a giant roll and smothered with mayo and spicy mustard. Believe me when I tell you this is the nectar of the gods. Serious food, people.

At 11am I arrived in Valparaiso, or Valpo, as it's locally known. The bus station was a filthy little building with lots of dicey people milling around. Pedro had warned me that Valpo was not like safe, clean, Santiago, and that I should be more on guard there. He said cabbies will try to scam you (remember this), people will snatch your bags, and that I should keep an eye open when walking around alone at night.

Two nights before I was talking to Lermo and telling him about my weekend excursion to Valpo and he said he had a friend who owns a hostel there. Lermo sent the owner an email and copied me, so when I got to Valpo I got into a cab, told the driver the address of the hostel and we were off.

Once we got moving I started to regret going to Valpo. On the surface Valpo is a dirty port city with all the charm of a rusty nail. The streets are narrow, poorly lit, wreak of urine and garbage, and only meet the loosest definition of "paved". The ancient diesel Nissan cab struggled up steep inclines as we drove high up the hills of the city, which climbs steeply from the sea into the hills. Stray dogs were everywhere, sleeping on the sidewalks, walking in the road, and it occurred to me that I hadn't seen a single person after leaving the bus station, it was as if the city was inhabited only by dogs.

The cab finally rounded a corner and stopped, though I wasn't sure of the little car shit the bed or we had arrived at a suitable spot for the cabbie to rob and kill me. I looked out the window. We were on a tiny one-way street where all the buildings were covered in graffiti, which was a small comfort to me because at least it meant that there were people around, and not just dogs. The cabbie told me the fare and I wasn't sure I wanted to get out. I asked him if this was the address and he said "Si" and pointed to a sign hanging off the bu idling to my right. Sure enough, the name of the hostel was painted on it. It was about 11:30, so I asked him to wait while I made sure someone was there to let me in, but as soon as I got out he started up the car and clunked away, leaving me standing on the sidewalk in a cloud of black diesel exhaust. I gave myself only a 30% shot of surviving the night.

I was pleasantly surprised when I knocked on the locked door of the hostel and it opened. The keeper spoke reasonable English and rented me a single room for the night for around $25, a rate I think Lermo negotiated. I took a quick shower, changed, then headed down the street to find some food and drinks.

Valpo actually has an active night life. There are lots of small bars and cafes. While I was walking down a side street I heard a big crowd on the second floor of one of the buildings, and located a stairwell marked only with a neon blue light. I walked up the stairs and into a bar/club. After some initial confusion buying a drink (you don't pay the bartender, you buy tickets from a clerk the use the tickets to get drinks) I was able to order up a Mojito. While I waited I noticed the crowd was different from others I had seen in Chile. The bar had a punk vibe. Then I noticed there were lots of dudes, but was relieved to see a group of five chicks come in. The relief was short lived, though, when I saw two of the girls in the group start mugging down with each other. I took a closer look around the room and saw a couple of guys in a corner holding hands. Yup, I had stumbled into what was probably the only gay bar in all of Valpo. I finished my ($8 - pretty expensive there) drink then casually walked out. After a few more stops I headed back to my room at the hostel and crashed for the night.

I woke at about 7am, took a freezing cold showered, had a strong Nescafe (the country has a strange fascination with Nescafe instant coffee) and was on the street by 8am. Valpo in the daylight was much less intimidating. I browsed some of the local food vendors and enjoyed a hearty breakfast of completos (yup, two) and a couple of Empenadas Pinos (if you don't know what these are, and live in DC, go to Julia's and find out first hand). I then set my sights on a cab for Vina Del Mar, and it's white sand beaches.

I spotted a row of cabs stopped at a red light. I opened the door of one, threw in my giant back pack and and said "Voy a Vina del Mar". The cabbie said something that I translated as "Where are you going in Vina?", to which I replied "El centro, por favor". The cabbie said something else, I figured asking for clarification on my destination, so I said "No hay importante, el centro", then rolled the window down. I started to pull out my tour book when the cabbie turned around and began yelling at me. I said "No hablo mucho Espanol" my usual response when people talked quickly, but this didn't caml him down, so I actually began listening to what he was saying and made an attempt at translating. He was pretty upset, mad that I was asking him to drive me to Vina, and something about a "taxi". I figured this was some scam, a way for him to charge me his annual salary for a ride to Vina and I wasn't about to fall into that trap, so I said "Vamos a Vina del Mar, ahora!". He was incredulous and began screaming. While I held my ground, determined to get the "locals" rate on my ride, I noticed he didn't have a meter, which isn't so unusual. But then I spotted a big box of new plumbing supplies and a clip board in the front seat and it dawned on me, this wasn't a cab. I threw open the door, grabbed my bag, and jumped out of the car with a quick "Gracias" and took off down the road. Turns out he was a delivery truck for the local hardware store, that just happened to be the same type of car that the cabbies all drove (black Nissan with small sign on top).

I eventually got my ride (cost: $6, $1 less than my two-hour ride from Santiago, certainly not the "locals" rate), and a few hours later I was in Vina sitting on the beach sipping Pisco Sours (like a Margharita) and chatting chicas. However, my night in Vina was disappointing. I've done a fair amount of traveling alone for work, but Vina was a lonely place for a solo guy. Very few people spoke English, and the restaurants didn't have bars that you could sit at and eat dinner. I spent most of my time walking around the little town. In retrospect, Valpo had a much more inviting nightlife and I wished I had stayed there my second night and only gone to Vina for a day.

Sunday afternoon I returned to Santiago. That night I fly back to DC, unsure what I was facing on the home front with ME.