Beautiful Valparaiso and the luck of the Irish

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Apologies in advance if this entry is somewhat succinct - I am tired today, details to follow.

We are in Valparaiso, two hours west of Santiago. I love it. Up until now, Chile´s ramshackle, slightly rundown tin houses have done very little for me. However, tuck them into tiny winding streets on some really steep hills; paint them bright colours and decorate them with murals; intersperse with some arty cafes and all of a sudden you have a spectacular city and a UNESCO world heritage site. Result.

We decided to spend a week here. It feels as though we haven´t really stopped for the last couple of weeks and, after nearly six weeks away, it is beginning to dawn on us that we´re not short of time and that we don´t need to be permanently rushing around every few days. Plus, having spent four days walking over 20 miles per day in 100mph winds and subzero conditions with a swollen knee and the sorest feet ever in Torres del Paine, it is fantastic to be in one place, in warm weather, doing not much.

The hike was amazing. It is bizarre that an area of land exists that is small enough to walk through so quickly but contains mountains, lakes, glaciars, beaches and for a Cities of Gold moment (for those of you who remember), condors.

The problem with Patagonia for me though, both in Chile and in Argentina, is that everywhere you go is pretty much entirely geared towards tourism. Valparaiso is the first place we´ve been since Buenos Aires that feels as though the people that live, work and study here do so for a purpose that is outwith the city being a tourist attraction, which makes for a very refreshing change of atmosphere.

The only thing that is making life a bit more difficult here is our rubbish Spanish. I´m getting better very slowly, and Jones has been sitting with his nose in the Spanish book as I´ve been writing this. But we still need a lot of work - I form sentences by punctuating a very limited selection of nouns with either a mumble or a look of sheer desperation. Not good. So a plan is forming to sign up for a couple of weeks intensive Spanish in Bolivia, where we can hopefully get it cheap. As the cheeky wee Irish chap that was in our dorm in our hostel last night said - "it helps you to really meet and get to know local people"...

Just in case we needed convincing, the Irishman in question decided to spend last night doing just that. Between the hours of 4.30 and 6.30am we were treated to an unparalleled display of Irish charm. Fortunately (or unfortunately, depending entirely on your point of view) we were spared actually watching the proceedings as our beds are on a mezzanine. However, our Irish friend´s pursuit of local knowledge was clearly audible. And my Spanish, terrible as it may be, is good enough to surmise that he forgot the girl´s name, more than once, but told her repeatedly that he really, really liked her (naturally, although he probably just isn´t ready for a serious commitment at the moment..) He then kicked her out of the hostel to ensure that she wouldn´t be found there in the morning, mentioning in passing that he would never see her again as he was leaving the next morning for Santiago and then New Zealand. Which made her cry. What a gent. Women of Auckland, beware.

Next stop Mendoza, back in Argentina, then north to Salta and we should cross the border into Bolivia in a couple of weeks. And, fingers crossed, no more dormitories...

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Comments

[Just Mum]

Graves and Jones epic
All sounds amazing.