Judy. One of my yoga teachers in Atlanta is originally from Chile.
When I asked advice about where to visit when we came here, she had suggestions
from the Altacama Desert in the north to Patagonia in the south, and all points
in between. Several women I’ve met in Santiago have summer homes further south
where it’s cooler, and have had even more suggestions. If we had a year, maybe
we could do all that, but time and budget limited us to the six weeks in
Santiago, a two-day trip by bus to Valparaiso, and a four-day trip to La
Serena.
The main reason
for La Serena was that friends from our repositioning cruise, Sylvie and
Gilles, are on a South American cruise, and would be stopping there, so meeting
them was a no-brainer. Besides, it’s the second-oldest city in Chile, and the
gateway to the Valle de Elqui, home
of pisco (brandy), observatories, and
stargazing.
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| Traveling the Route of the Stars |
We flew into La
Serena and immediately rented a car to drive up the Valley. We’d been told that
the drive was a bit dangerous—winding roads and tourists that stop at overlooks
and then pull out without looking. Maybe it’s because we just missed tourist
season by four days, but the drive was a breeze—and beautiful.
The Valley itself
is lush and green, filled with grape vines, trees, and a few other crops. In
some places, especially at the beginning, it’s pretty wide, but as you drive,
it narrows considerably, and the dry, treeless, cactus-covered mountains begin.
It’s such a strange contrast! Much of it reminded us of the Atlas Mountains in
Morocco, except for the verdant crops and river below.
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| Desert cactus |
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| Green valley |
The Elqui has a
reputation as a mystical place, and some shops offer Tarot readings, tours to
alien sightings, and chakra balancing. It lends itself well to such
speculation, because it’s like entering another world, and evidently the
petroglyphs in part of the valley look like aliens. The mountains press in so
closely that it can feel either oppressive, or enlightening. Yes, I know that
makes no sense. But at night, when the stars come out and the Milky Way pours across
the sky, you do feel as though you could be lifted up and carried away.
Astronomers gather in several places, and observatories are scattered along
side and on top of the mountains.
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| The river below |
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| Across the valley |
The valley is also
home to several pisco distilleries. Pisco is a brandy made in Peru and Chile
(the countries argue about who made it first or best—I think Peru wins) that
can knock you on your backside. I’d had pisco
sours—the national drink—in Santiago. No big deal. Our hostess offered us each
a drink upon our arrival, and it was a whole different ball game. We had to
take a nap afterwards!
We stayed in the
town of Pisco Elqui, and our first dinner was in a courtyard restaurant, lit
only by candles and later a fire pit. From there we could watch the stars begin
to peek out. On our walk back to the hotel, we kept stopping to stargaze.
The cabañas of our
hotel were located in gardens on the side of one of the mountains. It made for
wonderfully quiet and private cabins, as you had to climb up and down sets of
stairs to get to them. At night from the pool area, you had a full view of the
Milky Way, Orion’s Belt, and the Southern Cross. We sat for ages just looking,
and I found myself getting up in the night to look out our large windows just
to see it all again. Well, and go to the bathroom.
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| Gardens at the hotel |
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| Our cabaña |
We had planned to
visit an artisan’s village and a pisco
distillery, but the village was slowing down (the season was just over) and few
shops were open, and the distillery was too expensive for our blood, especially
since Ted couldn’t taste the liquor and still drive the winding roads. Instead,
we drove down to the next town, Monte Grande, to visit the museum of Gabriela
Mistral, Chile’s first Nobel Prize winner, and a teacher of Pablo Neruda, the
second. The “museum”, which cost about $1.50 to visit, consisted of the
schoolroom where Mistral taught, her room, and some of her original manuscripts
of poetry with corrections, as well as photos and copies of the Nobel Medal.
Compare that with the three Neruda elaborate homes, which cost about $12 each
to visit, and concluded with a gift shop. There I was able to buy a
Spanish/English copy of one of Neruda’s volumes; there was no bookstore for
Gabriela, and I’ve not been able to find her work translated to English. Both
were ambassadors, both lived in other countries, both were Nobel Prize winners
in Literature for their poetry. I’m not really sure if or why their legacies
seem so different. At any rate, it was humbling to see the tiny school and room
where this great poet worked for awhile.
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| Gabriela Mistral statue in Monte Grande |
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| Pisco grapes |
The rest of the
day we wandered a bit in Pisco Elqui, but there wasn’t much there. I found it
interesting that there were murals of India and shops selling East Indian
clothing. I guess that’s part of the mystery. Still, sitting in our cabaña or
on our patio, or up by the pool to watch the stars, we felt restful and happy.
The following day
we drove back to La Serena and turned in the car. We had a great hostel/hotel
in the middle of the colonial area. Again, there was a long patio and garden
leading to the rooms, kitchen, lounge, and three outdoor seating areas. So very
comfortable to return to after a day of sightseeing!
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| Courtyard in La Serena |
A few months ago
there was an earthquake in La Serena—about 6.7 on the Richter scale, and four
years ago, an 8.5 hit. Fifteen people died and there was a fifteen-foot
tsunami. In Latin American countries there are temblors, or “earth rumblings”, and sismos, or big quakes. The ones a few months ago and four years
ago were considered sismos, and
people were killed. The receptionist in our hotel didn’t speak English. As we
were checking in and struggling through in Spanish, her eyes suddenly got big
and she froze. We didn’t know what we’d said to offend! Then she took a deep
breath and said, “Temblor!” Somehow we never felt a thing.
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| Advice after a seismo |
As we saw in
Oaxaca, there is still damage to some of the older buildings from former
earthquakes. Some buildings were closed, others had barriers around them so no
one could be harmed in case of falling bricks. There are some absolutely
beautiful old colonial buildings, and churches on every corner. This was a rich
town once! Down a main road is a long park, called by natives “The Street of
Naked Butts,” because of all the Greek statues there! How can you not love a
town like that?
That night there
was a free concert in the Plaza de Armes, two blocks from our hotel, in honor
of International Women’s Day. Local women were recognized and honored, and
Maria Jose Quintanilla, a famous singer performed. The crowd—and it was
packed—were happy and well behaved—lots of dancing! My favorite were the abuelas who made those standing in front
of their bench move out of the way so they could see. When we left, one was
standing on the bench and they were all shaking their shoulders.
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| Gathering for the concert |
The following day
we took an Uber to Coquimbo, a port town nearby, to pick up Sylvie and Gilles
from their ship and spend the day in La Serena. We mostly talked, but also
wandered around the colonial area. Sylvie and I scored some earrings while Ted
and Gilles sat and talked.
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| With two of our favorite people |
Our Uber driver, Hugo,
who took us to pick up our friends, brought us back to La Serena and then met
us in the afternoon to take us back to Coquimbo so Sylvie and Gilles could
return to their ship. On the way he pointed out a few things, including a sea
lion basking on the shore!
Leaving our
friends was tough, but more and more often we are keeping up with the people we
meet who are important to us, and our community is expanding throughout the
world.
Hugo is an
Argentine immigrant who arrived in Chile four years ago with two bags and a
faith in God. Now he’s married to a Chilena, honeymooned on a cruise, and is
making a good life for himself and his wife. It was uplifting to talk to him.
He insisted we take his number and let him know if we go back to Argentina. His
family, he says, would welcome us to Mendoza.
That evening there
was a women’s march in honor of International Women’s Day. Thousands of women
paraded down a street near our hotel in a noisy and joyful event. I watched for
a while, and never felt unsafe in the crowd.
The excitement of
spending the day with Sylvie and Gilles, and seeing the parade kept me awake
that night. Some of the march participants returned to a bar near the hotel and
were pretty noisy. I was reading and Ted sleeping when I heard a dull roar and
the room shook a bit. Yeah. It scared me. The noise from the bar stopped, and
when the shaking stopped, there was a great cheer. Crazy!
On the day we
left, we mentioned the temblor to
another receptionist. Yes, she told us, it was a 4.4. But earlier in the day,
there was a 5.2. We never felt a thing
during the day! Ted says he doesn’t know if he felt the nighttime one or my
hand grabbing him. By the way, I got back to sleep. He didn’t.
Turns out, this is
a hotspot for earthquakes, and there have been several in past years, causing
severe damage and tsunamis. All part of the Pacific Ring of Fire, I suppose. We
had a taste in Mexico as well. But it’s what to expect here, and it’s
not stopping us. Life is too much fun to worry about it.
