Peter and Marilyn

Peter and Marilyn
Christmas in San Jose del Cabo

Wednesday, November 24, 2010

Pueto Varas to Santiago to Arica - Going North!

It is now, Wednesday, November 24, and we have gone from Puerto Varas, our farthest southern point in Chile, to Arica, our farthest northern point.

This time I thought I would try something different. I’m going to post the photos first, then the script and see what happens. This is all a learning experience, and, at 69, learning comes slowly!
On the last post, the first caption for the pictures was supposed to be the “doll” on our bed, but she was shown down farther and it was not our “door“. We didn’t name the doll, but she was company for Spike.

Saturday, Nov. 20
We spend the day with good seats top-floor front, but not semi-cama (leg-rests), back to Temuco and the Holiday Inn.
All buses go through Valdivia, a port city at the coast. It has been hit in past by serious earthquakes and tsunamis, but it looks reasonably prosperous. As it is Saturday, we see from the bus that it is flee-market day. A couple of the streets and side streets are the area for selling used clothes. Something like Alta tension in San Jose! I get a picture of the fruit and vegetable streets. And to think of the lack of interest in the farmer’s market in Castlegar. Anyway, it looks like fun.
It’s funny how every new town is so strange when you first arrive, but we had only a full day in Temuco, yet the taxi ride back to the Holiday Inn from the bus is quite familiar to us.
Nice digs. We eat again from their pre-prepared, micro-waved meals and get to bed early as tomorrow is another day on the bus. I am glad we are not riding the Greyhound!

Sunday, Nov. 21.
Thank goodness we have the semi-cama, big seats with leg rests for the long stretch back to Santiago. The bus doesn’t leave Temuco until 10 a.m., so we have a lovely breakfast and I put together food (from the buffet) to take on the bus for lunch. The colourful Peruvian bag I purchased for about five dollars in the market at Aqua Calientes (Machu Picchu) has more than paid for itself. Luckily, I have a small sewing kit along because it did need a little mending at one point.
I have finished knitting my wool socks, so I can wash and store Cathy’s. A lady on the bus to Puerto Varas looked at what I was knitting each time she walked by us on the bus. Finally, she stopped to ask what I was knitting. I showed her the finished sock and she was quite impressed. She gave me a card for a yarn shop in Puerto Varas, but we never did find it.
We arrive on time in Santiago to wonderfully warm weather. The taxi driver has no idea where our hotel is - it is small and fairly new - so I just tell him - cerca del Mercado Central pero dos quadros mas en el mismo calle, el edificio de rojo. We actually get there!
The nice boy is on duty and carries our suitcases up the three flights. He certainly deserves a tip before we leave.
We unpack the suitcase that we stored at the hotel and, in putting things away I realise that my Teva sandals are not amongst the stuff. I think the last time I wore them was in Temuco or Puerto Varas - as we had cold, rainy weather in the south. I am really annoyed with myself as I will need them to wear in New Zealand and Australia etc.. What a bummer!
We walk to Plaza de Armas and have dinner at the Marco Polo. It was once again good food at a reasonable price. The square is a lively family place on Sunday night. There are entertainers, artists, and the same guy we saw last week attempting to convince a crowd something we don’t understand!
I have a sleepless night as I fret about my shoes and some La Costa stuff. Twice I get up in the night. I send an e-mail in Spanish to the Pucon hostel hoping that is where I left my sandals. Finally, about 4 a.m., I make a cup of mint tea which relaxes me enough to sleep.

Monday, Nov. 22.
I am beginning to feel we are on our way home.
After breakfast, we decide to walk to the Parque Metropolitano. It is probably a half-hour walk, but, again, we like walking through cities. We come to a little street that is the St.Laurance St. of Santiago - all sorts of clothing manufacturing shops. I get a cute black & white top that I put on over my white golf shirt. It has the stylish pointy corners on the bottom. For less than $15, I have a good packing, versatile top.
We discover that the zoo is closed on Mondays, but we take the “funicular”, a 1925 cable car, to the sanctuary of the Immaculate conception and the statue there of the Virgin that over-looks Santiago. It is quite impressive even for heathens like us.
Peter has bought me an inexpensive pair of “lapizlazul” earrings, the blue stones found only in Chile & Afghanistan, and we wander downtown looking for a more expensive - for good - pair. We look in lots of shops, but I like the ones I have and don’t see anything I would spend money on - so I will just continue to wear the nice ones I have.
At Plaza de Armas there is one side where there are arches on the building. In this area, there are fast food, stand up or take-away, stands on the side by the arches (and the plaza) and there are restaurants, side-by-each, on the side by building. We go right down the row looking for something interesting for dinner. I have to choose between a stew - always in the Chilean restaurants - and something in an individual baking dish. I have no idea what it is but want to try it, so I choose a restaurant with an example of it in the window. Peter has a half chicken and I have the mystery meal. (I’ll post the name next time as I forgot to write it down!)
The mystery meal: served in a black, stone bowl, is ground corn kernels that are cooked in a chicken stalk with chopped onions, bits of chicken and spices - not hot but tasty - with surprises on the bottom - half a hard-boiled egg and two black olives. The top is crusty from being in the oven and from the sugar that crystallizes when it is baked. One serving will easily do two people, so I take half “para llevar!”
The downtown outside of the square is very quiet as we walk home. We need to be packed and ready to go early tomorrow, the wake-up call is for 4 a.m.

Tuesday, Nov. 23.
The phone call and the alarm clock blast us awake at the same time. As we are all ready, we are downstairs by 4:30 a.m. The nice young fellow offers us breakfast which is not usually served until 7 a.m. We have coffee and Peter has toast while I have yogurt. For the first time in S.A., we have a taxi that is not only spotlessly clean, but is quite new and the driver is extremely professional. Thinking back, the closest was the private driver we had to the vineyards in Mendoza. There is little traffic and so it is a quick trip to the airport. The places is buzzing, even at 5:15 a.m. The line-up at Sky airlines is not long, but only one lady is working. A few more arrive at 5:30, but it is a full fifteen minutes before they begin to help customers! Now the line really is long, but we are not far from the front, so we are soon helped. Neither of us are over 17 kg., ( 20 is the limit) so the littlish bags have been a good investment.
Out flight is a little late, and is full to bulging, as it stops at Antofagasta before Arica and then goes on to La Paz, Bolivia. We are served a decent breakfast before Antofagasta - I had never heard of it either, but Peter says it used to be part of Bolivia before it was lost in a war and Bolivia became land-locked! As we land it becomes obvious why we are recommended not to bus between Santiago and Arica. The terrain is totally desert. There is not a tree in sight and sand dunes all around. I can imagine keeping the runway free of sand must be a major job with specialized equipment.
At least half of the people on the plane disembark! I wonder what is so important here! Anyway, the load is lighter as we are off. We approach Arica, the most northern city and a major port in Chile. It is still desert! Again, there is nothing but dirt (sand) and dunes as we approach town. You can see the development - and one tall building that turns out to be the government building in the downtown - to the south and beside the ocean. The hotel shuttle takes us along the waterfront past the town centre and it is all quite pretty. There is a high cliff - of sand - which we round to get to the resort hotel. It is quite posh! Shiny marble floors give it an upscale appearance. Although it is not new, it has been kept in first class shape and will be a wonderful relaxing place to be for three days.
Our room looks to the southwest with a large picture window we can open to hear the waves of the Pacific ocean crashing on the rocks. It is quite rocky just behind the hotel and this is home to thousands of sea gulls. They turn out to be so much fun to watch as they zoom around in what seems like some kind of organized but confusing dance. At times they can be a cacophony of noise, but they are quiet after dark.
Our first job is to find a laundry, so we pack our washing and head off on the ocean-side sidewalk for the twenty minute walk into town. We wander our a likely street and find nothing. We ask locals and get varying directions until two come together - one with the correct directions and the second with a name - Roma. It seems a little iffy, and turns out to be relatively expensive - but it is an experience. The old - and I mean ancient - guy who takes our clothes is anxious to use his English. We ask him where he learned it and he says he went to sea. He says he does not get a chance o speak English! I guess not. Not a lot of travellers wander the streets like we do to find a local lavaderia! Anyway, the stuff will be ready tomorrow at 6 p.m., so we will make another trip in then.
At the hotel, the wind off the water make it feel cool, but the sun is very hot. It is so pleasant, I fall asleep in the sun, something I seldom do. I get a sunburn with lines of white where my bathing-suit straps and wrap cover me. It doesn’t hurt, but it does look funny.
Peter chooses to go to the restaurant next to the hotel as the menu seems more reasonable. As it turns out I have the best dinner I have had in South America. Number 81 on the menu is grilled fish with some kind of cooked spinach and a mixed salad. Now I have to choose the fish - so I ask what is local. The salmon is local, but we have the wonderful sockeye at home, so I go for the Reineta. What a good choice! I tell the owner how pleased I am. He offers us an “after dinner drink to help the digestion” on the house. Also, he gives us a coupon for 2x1 pisco sour or mango sour with our next meal. I think we will return on Thursday.
We sleep with the window open and the sound of the surf. It brings us back memories of our first trip to Jamaica in 1986 and the wonderful room we had at the resort in Ocho Rios.

Wednesday, Nov. 24.
The hotel is very busy as there are at least two different groups having some kind of conferences. The spread for breakfast is first class. This is the first time since Peru that we have had eggs on the buffet. Also, the coffee is good. We linger over the third cup each.
Peter has found a place to stay in Nasca and they turn out to be helpful re-a trip over the Nasca lines and with the bus schedules in Peru. Nobody this side of the border has a clue! We walk into town to see if a travel agent can help, but they have no information. We stop at the post office to send the kids post cards and wander up the main pedestrian street. There is a demonstration brewing which is in full swing around 1 p.m. It appears that the teacher’s union is protesting President Pinera’s proposal to force “early-retirement” as part of his plan to put more money into education reform. We pop into a store while the hoards pass down the pedestrian mall.
We decide to try the bus back to the hotel to see how they work. There is no problem and they are cheap, so we will take it back to pick up our laundry in the evening.
I have the fixings for lunch, so we eat in the room and head to the pool for a few hours. We get into the wine we bought this morning. It is hard to spend even $4 on a bottle of wine! What’s wrong in Canada?
We hop the bus back to town and arrive at the laundry about 6:30. In the conversation with the old man we discover he really is old. He was born in 1916! I think that is the year my late Dad was born. I guess work is good for the health. I hope travel is as well.
We decide to buy “ready made” food from the super market for supper . This works out well, as we sit by the picture window at the end of the hall and watch the waves and the sea gulls. Life’s good.
Another statue - this of books.
My finished socks.
Saturday flee market in Valdivia.

Going up on the Funicular.







The cars of the funicular from the 1920's.





A view of Santiago and the two old
travelers.










We are still smiling!






Constructing a new highrise but keeping the old facade.










One of my favourite Santiago buildings.







The entrance to the Bellas Artes subway station.











A mall, with a winding balcony construction, of all hair salons!











Our final shot of Santiago - 4 a.m. and a full moon.











The rie from the airport to the hotel in Arica. Desert!













The gulls in flight.
















The view from our window.













The view across the street from the hotel in Arica.

















The waves crashing.
















The birds as the sun goes down.

















The sun set - November 23, 2010, Arica, Chile.

























































































My best dinner in South America at the Oceano Azul restaurant.
I've already eaten half of it.





















My sun burn.



























Surfers going to sea.






















Paddling out from our rocky coastline.

(There is one more below.)

























The picture window at the end of the hall where peter and I ate dinner.


























No comments:

Post a Comment