January 20, 2015
Hola from hot, sunny Puerto Montt!
Sitting by Lago Llanquihue and we could be so many places, Bavaria, Swiss Alps or even the Laurentians....a quaint German town. Look and feel is completely different than other Chilean towns.
Snow capped vocanoes, sun and a cerveza make it a picture-perfect day. We opted out of the ship's tours and instead caught a local bus at a cost of 1,600 Pesos ($3.20) for two. Same destination as the $60 tour each.
Thoughts
So, we're back on the ship and a day at sea, (the icecream lady was thrilled to see us), so I have all this time on my hands to recap the last few days in Valpo.
We really enjoyed our stay in Valparaíso and neighbouring cities and towns. We used the transit system to the max, from the oldest trolleys running to the ascensores, collectivos, taxis, micro buses, coaches and LRT. With few exceptions, transit works like a charm and is cheap by our standards. It's also privatized, with the exception of trolleys. Even the LRT, which is subsidized, is partly private.
Great, generous people, warm weather, beautiful vistas, a funky town with good and lesser points (graffiti, an over abundance of dogs and cats and all that entails), but overall a great place to hang your hat for a month. Never judge a book by its cover, (some places you might never normally venture into may turn out to be the most interesting or have impeccable cuisine).
We made friends st Brecon's Restaurant, a sports bar we dropped into after a recommendation on our 3-hour tour one day and since we were looking for updates on NFL scores, it was a good fit.
We introduced them to jello shooters. They liked them so much the first time, they requested strawberry flavour, so we obliged. One photo of Guillaume (MacKay!) and his wife Coco, enjoying their shots. Chile will never be the same.
Our two airbnb apartments were perfect for us. Attached a few more shots of the house/apt we stayed in and Rainer saying bye to the grounds keeper Aristides.
The Game
The second filtheist bar I've ever frequented (in my career as a person) has to be the dive we stopped in to catch our now second favourite rivals, the Santiago Wanderers and Universidad de Chile, in a game of fútbol. The game was being played at our stadium but we were warned by more than one local to stay away from the place so we heeded their sage advice and thought we'd catch it on a big screen where we figured there would be locals at least, to create the ambience we'd surely be missing.
We arrived just as the game was under way. The joint's named Keops, like the Egyptian pyramid, and apart from a few hieroglyphs on one wall, there was no connection whatsoever. It was 6:30 PM on a sunny afternoon as we made our way into the dark, single-lightbulb lit room, to a square scratched up, dirty old card-table with the barely recognizable remnant of a beer logo on it. To be fair, we did have the choice of a booth if we preferred, but the scuffed, ripped, major-chunks-missing-exposing-the-filthy-foam-beneath, black Naugahide didn't quite cut it for me, and I was wearing a skirt and didn't want to risk a rash of sorts, or be caught off-guard by an over-eager cucarraccha scattering over my bare leg in a panic as I had just sat on his colony. On the plus side, the chairs were a cheap red plastic, so even if never wiped, which was highly probable, would be less life-threatening, in theory. The floor was just cement, swept once or twice, the walls, once painted a dark wine and burnt orange colour, in keeping with the theme. Incense burned to mask the damp.
We ordered a litre bottle of Escudo to share and took in the game, careful at first not to cheer for one local favourite over the other in the event we were in one-horse territory. Once safe, we cheered for the Wanderers, who eventually were victorious - a better played game than at the stadium. We ordered a second beer.
As in most bar stops, one eventually has to make room for more suds, so I reluctantly hit the 'washroom'. Yikes! Short story long, let's just say there was no toilet seat, no toilet paper, no paper towel, the tank was a painted black box, the floor I tried not to study. I asked Rainer if he saw the flash go off as I cranked out a photo for the scrapbook, dripped dry, (c'mon, men do it all the time), broke out my Purell and wandered back to finish the beer. I joked that I was feeling peckish and would love to see the food menu...they didn't serve food, a wise choice. I'm no princess but this was up there atop the grime list...and I've witnessed my share.
Photos include our ship docked in harbour, taken from our house the morning of the 18th, back on board for the NFL Superbowl semis.
Incredible construction projects underway all over Valpo.
In Ottawa we tend to think of infill as smaller construction projects in older neighbourhhods. Not so here, where it would appear almost anything goes, and Committee of Adjustment can't possibly be anywhere on the radar. Although, now, after having visited Santiago, I noted there may be some controls - one apartment building, with no windows on one entire side, as the setbacks did not allow them so close to the neighboring properties.
Every nook and cranny can be built upon, cliffs, slopes, waterftont, you name it, it's happening. Buildings on buildings, new buildings in heritage buildings, sidewalks which lead to nowhere, or off a cliff. UNESCO world heritage designations after the fact and in one case, preventing rebuilding. A 'designated' home which caught fire but didn't quite burn to the ground, remains in ruins after 10 yesrs.
Decaying history.
Note the mirrored building jutting out of a heritage façade. This led to this one, and the surrounding blocks, being designated heritage and recognized by UNESCO (this one in particular was 'grandfathered'), whereas the surrounding blocks are deteriorating, occupied by squatters and no one can afford to maintain them. Be careful what you wish for...
Buckling sidewalks, gaping holes in pathways, broken stairs, no railings, remnants of steel posts left twisted in cement - in front of the Helen Keller Institute no less.
Photos don't even begin to tell the story....another day.
January 14, 2015
We had plans, to hop a micro bus to the main bus station where, we had read, in a street behind there somewhere, we would find a collectivo to take us to the little fishing village of Quintay, about a 30 minute drive, give or take.
The micro, ever-entertaining, did not disappoint. Two rather large women got on, each carrying their own miniature long-haired Scotty-type woofballs, jostling to make change as the dog had his little black shiny button nose almost nestled into another passenger's ear as they shuffled to make change with the driver and plunk down in the seats ahead of us.
For whatever reason, the driver seemed really annoyed at the bus beside us and decided it would be fun, and safe, to jockey for position while rounding the corner at 60 kph. We 'white-knuckled' it as we barely missed scraping right down the side of it, in the turn, as passengers, including the dog-loving ladies, yelled "Cuidado" (Watch out)!
A bargain at any price, and worth the 700 Pesos for two fares, or $1.40.
From there we found the collectivo headed for Quintay. Collectivos are essentially taxis, but they pick up 4 or 5 passengers and drop them off where they want to go for a pre-set fare. They wait in lines for passengers and when the car's full they leave. One young guy joined us and after waiting about 20 minutes with no sign of any other passengers we decided to split the fourth passenger fare to get going.
Quintay is 45k away. The fare per person is 2,000 Pesos, or $4. We are the last of the big spenders, so it cost us an additional 1,000 Pesos, a whopping $2. The drivers lined up also push their cars ahead to save gas. It is hard to imagine how they stay ahead of the game when they only collect $16 for a 45k trip. We have also been known to throw caution to the wind and spring for the 800 Pesos, or $1.60 for two, to take us home from the grocery store, over hill and dale, to our door with all our bags.
I made a few notes as we awaited the other passengers...a guy in a Challenger paid two different street people awaiting the same light change - one had something that looked like Texas scratch cards for sale and the other was a squeegee guy who cleaned his windshield and proceeded to approach the hurse behind, complete with coffin, to wash his windshield as well. Even dogs' survival instincts sometimes kick in as they patiently await light changes and cross with pedestrians. Others are suicidal, choosing to take their chances frolicking on their backs mid-road.
We were on our way, and ended up on dirt roads and passed the first cows and horses we have seen in awhile. I could smell what reminded me of eucalyptus trees as we passed little villages and pine treed areas further into the country. We thought the trip to Laguna Verde had steep hills and turns, but those paled in comparison to today's. Thankfully our driver slowed down to manageable speeds for most of them.
Quintay is a really quaint little fishing village and home to a former whaling station. There's a museum there in the old buildings so we wandered through the exhibits and spent some time sitting up on the wharf watching a fisherman and just spent the day peope-gazing and taking in the sights and sounds. Dinner was great overlooking the ocean. Salmon, paila marina (check out the claw!), and rice (as well as the customary Escudos).
Pics include the ramp where whales used to be dragged up for processing, aka butchering, and of the restaurant and beach.
Later in the evening we walked up the dusty dirt road and caught a bus home. After it stalled when leaving the stop, we held our breath as it made its way up the steep inclines and hairpin turns but arrived safely back home...we're kicking ass transit-wise in this town, and getting our money's worth to boot!
We liked the feel of this place, very quaint and picturesque. A great day.
