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Published: March 9th 2007
A Disappointing Early Morning for the Gringos It is dark when the alarm rings at 7am. We want to be out of the house in an hour in order to arrive in Valparaíso around 10. Once ready, we walk the familiar two block route to Metro Santa Lucía against the traffic of uniformed school girls. It is rush hour and the metro is more congested than usual, but luckily, we are heading in the direction of San Pablo and most everybody else is going the opposite way. At the Universidad de Santiago stop, we exit and make our way to the adjoining Terminal Alameda, a station where buses leave for Valparaíso every 10 or 15 minutes. The round-trip ride only costs 5,800 pesos (~US$12). Our bus leaves at 8:30, which left us little time to get breakfast. We were just able to buy water and Coke but would have to stay hungry for the one-plus hour ride. There was some greenery on the way over, but nothing much to talk about. We napped most of the way there and woke up just when we pulled in to the city at 10:10am. I had been banking on the “tourist office” described in
Ascensor to Cerro Concepción
I´m just a little nervous about the ride up the hill. Can you tell? (Brought to you by Pepsi)some Internet postings to give us the 411 on Valparaíso so we could plan the day, but the “office” (actually a kiosk) was closed. I grabbed a snack as my stomach was complaining and we headed in the general direction of the city and ports. Just a block away, we spied an Internet café and decided to check in and get more detailed info about what to do here. Mainly, people and Wikitravel recommend walking around and hanging out in Valparaíso - appreciating the ambience and views instead of trying to “do” sights. Sounds good to us - a relaxing day, and if we get bored, a 20 minute train/subway ride to Viña del Mar, the nearby beach resort that houses a casino. Some sites also recommend eating
chorrillanas and mention restaurants J. Cruz and Café Turri. Well, that’s all we’re gonna get, so we’ll take it. We roll back to the bus station hoping the kiosk is open, but it’s not. We check out the map painted on the front of the kiosk and get the general idea of where Cerros Alegre and Concepción are, as well as Pablo Neruda’s house here (La Sebastiana). Cerros are basically hills, of
Ascensor to Cerro Concepción
The only thing between us and our death...the elevator door. It rattled the entire ride. which Valparaíso is full. From the base of the hills, the surrounding environment reminds us of a mix between the colorful houses in San Francisco as you enter on the I-280 and the favelas of Rio de Janeiro. You can take
ascensores, which are old wooden cable cars, that provide a faster and less tiring way up the cerros.
We join the throngs of people on the main avenue heading east of the bus station. There are many restaurants serving chorrillanas along the way, and I am still curious what it is. Is it a sandwich with chorizo? Is it a barbeque? Our plan is to head to the cerros first since most travelers have recommended against hanging out near the seaside. But Leroy’s stomach grumbles and we have to find a place to eat first. I tell him about the recommendation for J. Cruz, and when he asks me to repeat the name, I say, “J. Cruz. C-R-U-Z.” At that moment, a mixed ethnicity young man in a fleece and shorts who had been trailing us for a while repeats, “Cruz. C-R-U-Z.” We look at him quizzically, and he says hello and tells us he hasn’t talked to
many gringos in a while. He is a Microsoft network professional who, after getting certified in Miami, decided to come to Valparaíso and stay. He recommends that we eat some seafood in the market near the bus station (hmmm, sounds like day one in Santiago) but warns us not to eat anything raw since the summer brings in something akin to red tide. He also glances at my purse and tells me to watch out while in the market. As we walk away, he yells to us, “Hey gringos!” - which we find hilarious since he’s a gringo too. He pulls out his wallet and leafs through the folds, then says, “No, I’m not giving you money” (what is he thinking?). Then he hands us his business card and tells us to call him if we want to hang out this weekend. Okay, Norberto Cruz! We’ve got your number. And if any gringos are in Valparaíso and want to hang out, write us - we have his number!
We keep walking, and the ambience this morning is not enjoyable. The avenue is crowded with people on their way to work or just milling about. Again, the Chilean way of
walking on sidewalks would frustrate anyone trying to get anywhere efficiently… I can only imagine how we would react if we were from New York. The streets are congested with public buses and
colectivos, those taxis that we talked about in our Concha y Toro blog. The noise pollution makes this seaside town a lot less relaxing and tranquil than I had imagined. The dog poop on the streets, which we have dealt with daily since Buenos Aires, seems more prevalent as do the number of strays who bask in the sun in the middle of the sidewalk. Nothing is really wrong, but nothing is really right. Maybe we’re just hungry. After what seemed like a lot of walking, I suggest we stop into a hotel, get a map, and ask for advice. The concierge was incredibly nice and helpful and we now know exactly how to get to J. Cruz, the ascensor to Cerro Concepción, and La Sebastiana. But once we get to J. Cruz after some wrong turns, the down home cafeteria is still closed as 11:30 is early for lunch. We change our plans and go to the Reloj Turri where the ascensor is. The ride is
500 pesos each way; we pay and get into the rickety box. It doesn’t look particularly safe, but I heard they were reliable, so no worries. Another couple joins us and up goes the ascensor. After 20 seconds, we’re there. Really? They charge a whole dollar for that short ride? It turns out I’m not the only one who thinks the price is high - we later find out the price has just been increased recently and that the locals on the Cerro are none too happy about it. So far, Valparaíso has the water and hills to make for a nice little visit, but the morning has just been more of what we experienced in Santiago Centro.
Things Look Up Once We Get Up to the Cerros But everything changes once we get up Cerro Concepción. It is here that the tranquility I expected exists. Up on the hills, we look down at the ships and cranes in the port. The water is a beautiful blue, and the view of the colorful houses on all the other cerros is wonderful. We take it in, but Leroy’s stomach calls to us. We go to the nearest restaurant - the
one right next to the ascensor (location, location, location!). It is Café Turri and the food was, as Leroy calls it, the best he’s had in Chile. I had sea bass with butter and capers accompanied by creamed spinach. He had a tenderloin with fried egg and fries. I enjoyed the toast and paté they brought out as appetizers, and he nibbled on the rolls. A caipiroska and pisco sour calmed our nerves after our early disappointment, and we were renewed in our effort to find out why Valparaíso is on everyone’s must-see list. Lunch was lovely, particularly because our table was on a porch from which we could see the sea, the harbor and the surrounding hills.
Satisfied, we start the day of “walking around and hanging out.” The first thing we notice are signs stating that the increase in price for the ascensor is abuse. Ah, the community is protesting as well. Decision made - we shall not take it back down. The next thing we notice, apart from the yellow and green houses that dot the entire landscape, are the many young people sitting on the cobblestone streets with pad and pencil in hand. They are
all drawing scenes of Valparaíso. We take pictures and wonder if they are all art students with the same assignment, when one of them strikes up a conversation with Leroy. I don’t know how it ended up that I picked up the conversation in Portuguese - was he Brazilian or Chilean? He had thought Leroy was Brazilian (of course). He tells us they are architecture students and that they do have an assignment. He asks us more questions about where we’ve been and what we’re doing, and after our pleasant encounter, we keep walking. We climb up some stairs to a church, and there we see a blond young man with a guide book in hand talking with a brown young man in sunglasses. I think he’s Filipino, but of course with the glasses on, I can’t be sure. Leroy asks him to take a picture of the two of us, and thus begins another conversation. He is a finance/IT person from San Francisco, originally born in Michigan to a physician father who was doing his internal medicine residency there. He has been in Latin America for two months, touring through Argentina and Chile. He has seen many more places
in each country, of course, and can’t decide which one he likes better. His trips have included trekking and camping in freezing weather, and the highlight in Chile for him was the Atacama desert. It all sounds wonderful and I have read about all these things in Chile, which is why I am convinced that the treasures of Chile do not lie in its cities. Then he also tells us a story about a crazy Kiwi who was sharing an apartment/hostel with him several days ago, when he first arrived in Valparaíso. The man was drunk all the time, maybe even high on something, and would not leave him alone, yelling at him each time he went to the bathroom. After the first night, he berated our friend and asked him if police were looking for him as he stared out the window (where there *were* police). Then he tells him that the night before, a dog was barking so loud he couldn’t sleep, so he got a knife and went outside and stabbed it to death. This was just one of many strange events with the crazy man, which also included an encounter where he came to our friend’s
room naked and rifled through his things while calling our friend a bit “strange in the head.” Of course, our friend left that hostel and moved elsewhere. We said our goodbyes, got our recommendations (“just walk around”), and kept on trucking. We took lots of pictures of the view toward the harbor and of anything that sparked our interest on our stroll.
Coated in Dust on the Path to La Sebastiana At some point, we saw paint on the posts and walls with an arrow marking the way to Museo La Sebastiana. I knew that Pablo Neruda’s house was on Cerro Florida, which was fairly distant from Cerro Alegre, where we were. Well, at least it looked that way on the map. But the thing to do was walk around anyway, so we decided to follow them. Goodness, if only we knew how long we’d be following those signs for. We kept walking and walking… and walking. It was fun though. It was quiet, and the view was pretty. And then we kept walking. What tainted the walk was a dust storm that started halfway there. The winds picked up velocity and started kicking up dust and debris. People
were getting pelted with dirt. I had my sunglasses on but I still got painful crud in my eye. I wanted some water, but none of the mini markets along the way had cold water without gas. I mean, none. One did have sliced pumpkin for sale. Tempting, except for all the flies over it. Over an hour later, we finally got to calle Ferrari and La Sebastiana. We peeked around the house for a bit and opted out of paying another museum entrance fee for another Neruda house, as we just saw La Chascona yesterday. We decided to walk down from Cerro Florida and not take the ascensor. At this point, it’s about 4pm and we’re ready to go home. We’ve enjoyed our day on the hills of Valparaíso despite the annoying beginning to the day. Now, I kinda just want to wipe off the layer of dust that surrounds me. We traipse down the steep hill, which is angled at about 30 degrees, making it a stress on the knees but a fun adventure nonetheless. We are down at the base shortly and within 10 minutes, we’re at the bus station. The next bus leaves at 5pm.
A Quiet Last Night in Santiago The bus ride has some irritating aspects to it, but nothing worth recounting. We get off at the Pajaritos bus station, a different one from where we left but it will get us off the bus and on the metro sooner. The metro ride is chill on our side, but the rush hour on the opposite side is ghetto. Trains are arriving every minute or so, but there are hundreds of people waiting on the platform. At the stations where there are connections to other lines, there are even more people. A man was regulating foot traffic, holding up a STOP sign to make people wait on the stairs so as not to overcrowd the platform. The metro system is fast and efficient, but I guess there are just too many passengers during certain hours. At Santa Lucía, we get off and make a stop at the supermarket. We spent way too much on lunch and need to save some pesos. I opt to cook another pasta meal. There is still no ground beef at the market, and since we don’t know where the nearest butcher is, it will be vegetarian again. The market
Little did we know...
That this picture would lead us to stories about a schizo-Kiwi. has stocked up a bit, so we are able to find mushrooms and mozzarella cheese. A quick stop to the fruit and vegetable guy and we get tomatoes, onion, and avocado. The night is quiet; we don’t feel like going out. Although we don’t necessarily want to go home and face all that packing up, we are ready to leave Santiago. I doubt we will ever be back here, except as a waystation to other places in Chile. The best parts of Chile must lie to the north and south, and I am sorry that we did not have the time to experience it. In Santiago, I definitely liked Barrio Bellavista and the chance to relax and get enough sleep after Carnaval and Buenos Aires.
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mom
non-member comment
such beauty
valparaiso is indeed un paraiso! so... space cowboy whose name is funk? and what about that menorah? did you go inside? the houses are so colorful, and, yes, so much like SFO. even a little purple house... ;) anyway, that is one hilly place. so why is it "val"?