National Congress Building, View of the Harbor
Monday, November 2, 1998
I checked out of the room in La Serena, thanked my gracious hosts, and left for the bus station. Unfortunately, I missed all of the early buses to Valpariso, so I had to settle for a 1:00 departure. That left a few hours to kill, which I used to work on my internet site. It's always a funny experience to sit in a bus terminal with a laptop and work. The herculean effort some people go through to see what I'm doing is beyond words. They contort. They bend. They try everything imaginable to get a good look.
I arrived in Valpariso, a coastal town a few hours west of Santiago, at around 7. The city immediately struck me as particularly clean. Having lost the bet to myself, I followed through and decided to rough it for a few days. So, I began to look for a cheap hostel. Fortunately, I didn't have to look to far. A lady at the bus terminal saw me desperately trying to get my bearings on the only small map I had, and offered me a room in her house. After negotiating terms (OK, it wasn't much of a negotiation, she said $8 a night, I tried to think of how to say 'too much' but then just decided to say 'Vamonos -- Lets go' instead) we headed to a small flat a few blocks from the station. She lived on the third floor, no elevator. The accomodation wasn't anything to write about, absurdly enough, and I decided to get out for some food.
I wandered around the city for the better part of a few hours looking for a pizza joint. I finally found a nice looking place and ordered up. My appetite was returning -- a good sign that I was coming out of a two week funky mood. I was really looking forward to vegetarian pizza. Unfortunately, what I got was not pizza but a piece of bread with some cooked veggies piled on top with a slice of partially melted cheese. I ate a few bites, reluctantly paid the exorbitant price, and then left. My funk returned and I couldn't force myself to eat somewhere else. I went home to bed early.
Tuesday, November 3, 1998
I awoke early, found a nice place with cheese and ham empanadas, and then headed a few miles down the street to the harbor. On the way, I found an interesting piece of Valpariso transport -- the funicular. It's basically a small vertical railway that transports people from street level up to the top of the cliffs some 100 feet above. Valpariso is a coastal town, but it is very mountainous. Responding to overwhelming population pressures during the high times when the only shipping route from the Western United States was passing Val and then down around Cape Horn, the only place to build was up. Thus, 16 funiculars were interspersed throughout the city. I took one up, admired the beautiful view the "Portenos" have, and then walked back down some side streets and alleyways.
Shortly thereafter, I arrived at the harbor and decided to go for a short tour. An older American couple from Tennessee, the Kelley's, were waiting for a boat as well. After answering many questions from Mrs. Kelley ("What does your mamma think about you being away from home? Why don't you have a girlfriend come with you? What did you eat when you were in Africa?"), we were assaulted by a boat captain trying to sell us a tour for about $30. I said that was a little out of my budget because I knew I could get the tour for about $2 if I just waited about thirty minutes. Mr Kelley would have none of that money nonsense and with a wave of the hand, he volunteered to pay. Hey, I can work the "starving American traveller" thing when given the chance... The harbor tour was worthwhile, especially since it was free... I thanked the Kelley's profusely and promised Mrs. Kelley, at her insistence, that I would promptly phone my mamma and let her know I was OK.
After a very nice lunch, I went to the movies and saw Saving Private Ryan with Tom Hanks. Good movie, somewhat depressing, very bloody. Then, back to the room for a quick change of clothes and then back into the city. I was dedicated to finding the nicest restaurant in Valpariso, Cafe Turri, and having a steak, a nice glass of wine, and reading my recently purchased book while overlooking the harbor and sea. It was a perfect night for that I thought.
I was a few blocks from the funicular leading to the restaurant when traffic stopped and a girl in a black car called out to me, "Hello. Get in the car!" I said no. Traffic behind her honked. "It's OK, where are you from?" she asked. I told her. People were now leaning on their horns. "Where are you going?" I told her. Fists were being waved out of the windows. "OK, we'll meet you there." Her girlfriend in the passenger seat looked amused. I was flattered but had no real hope of them showing up.
At the restaurant, I chose a primo seat, ordered a Waldorf salad, filet mignon, and a glass of their best cabernet. I settled into my book and was very, very content. I realized that eating well is a key to happiness. This was a new thought to me. I've never been into food very much. Indeed, I view it as a waste of time, a refueling stop so to speak. But, eating well the last few meals had definitely put me in better spirits. Or maybe it was the excellent wine.
About half way through my excellent steak, the girls showed up. Elizabeth, a 29 year old taxi driver, and Maria, a 29 year old hotel worker, joined me at my table. I was shocked.
Elizabeth did most of the talking. I ordered them drinks. They talked some more. I quizzed them on their thoughts on Pinochet (Elizabeth hated him, Maria revered him). I found out they both had 3 kids: "Chileans don't believe in birth control." What about abortion, I asked. Maria had had four, Elizabeth two. Didn't they say they didn't believe in birth control? After several interesting allusions to having me be the father of the rest of their children, they ordered some dinner. They continuously hinted at taking me back with them to their apartment and doing strange things not suitable for print in a rated PG page... I claimed that my hostel had a midnight "lockout" and that I'd see them tomorrow night. The funny thing is that they were both really good looking, articulate, and friendly. It was, as they say, "a sure thing." For some reason, I just wanted to be alone and to read my book.
Wednesday, November 4, 1998
In the morning, I took the metro rail over to Vina del Mar, the "Venice Beach, LA" of Chile. I had lunch at McDonalds! I walked around the artsy community and checked out the stores. If there is one thing that is true about Chileans, it's this: They love to shop. I've never in my life seen so many shops and so many people frequenting them. Vina del Mar and Valpariso (and later I would learn, Santiago) are just one big open air shopping mall. I didn't see many people buying, but I saw a ton of people window shopping.
Anyway, I went down to the beach and chilled out for a few hours. Then I hit the local internet cafe and did some email (thank you Cisco for announcing excellent earnings!) After watching a beautiful sunset, I decided to hit the local casino and play some blackjack. Unfortuntaely, the guard wouldn't let me in because I was wearing jeans. I also refused to pay the $8 cover charge. Can you imaging a cover charge to get into a casino in Las Vegas? I not so politely told him in English that he was making a huge mistake, flashed $1000 in US that I was ready to gamble, and then left to get a pizza. Later, back at the hostel, I planned the next day's journey to Santiago.