Advertisement
Published: March 6th 2008
Edit Blog Post
Snapshots of a weekend down South:
a benedryl-induced snooze through in semi-cama accomodations to Valdivia, courtesy of Jet Sur, with occasional stirrings as the bus repeatedly coughed and cried and threatened to conk out
(a tremendous way to celebrate the last day of Spanish class for foreigners, the last week before the start of the actual semester)
Saturday
the most delicious, giant hamburguesa that ever I have eaten, at Heissman's Cafe in sleepy downtown Valdivia after arriving at our hostel; bien cocido (we had our dudas when we saw photos of the famous carne crudo), queso and palta (avocado). the rotating case of kuchen and strudel tempted us, but the six-inch diameter sandwich was more than enough even after a night and morning of pent up hunger...
(but I must not forget: nescafe, in porcelain cups! Nescafe will be one of the defining constants of Chile. NesCafe + perros vagos).
a stroll through the Feria Fluvial, a bit past the town's plaza, cerca del rio. the indomitable odor of mariscos and pescado, rows and rows of fishermen. across the camino, fruit vendors selling fresh fruits, any and all of the nectarine varieties whose names I cannot yet keep
straight, palta en exceso, grapes, hand crafts, heavy bargaining...we would return the next day to buy our palta and fruit for lunch and dinner
after reuniting with our fellow gringas, a walk across the river and an ill-fated attempt to walk to Kuntsmann's cervezeria; we conceded after a few minutes on the side of the highway, and hopped onto a creaky bus which took us to...the brewery of pale, black, amber, and HONEY beer...
mmmmmmmmm
sampling stations at the bar while we waited for a table
and then a Gran Tobalaya (amber with red tones) and Cerveza miel (the new honey variety) combination with Nikki, so we could enjoy each one...
back to the hostel, a walk around town, a trip with nikki to the modern art museum, built on the side of the river across the bridge, which was small enough to see in a half an hour but compellling enough to wish for more time, late afternoon, back to the hostel to make dinner (or do dishes after). 1.500 (1 mil 500 pesos) contributed by each of 8 = delicious chicken, rice, "gravy", broccoli, salad, cake. a long-winded prayer, gratis.
A piscola previa in
our hostel...after which we lost about half of our group to exhaustion. The rest of us went walking in the dead streets in vain trying to find a bar with live music and literary readings that Lonely Planet had promised us in 2006. If I were to calculate Lonely Planet's accuracy rate, it would receive a 50 percent at best. But this makes adventures adventures.
Finally, carreteando at a discoteca called La Rumba -- after being coaxed in by the owner, who gave us a mil discount (my retrospective suspicion: it was the under-35 discount)...alas! we were free to enter for less than 2 dollars, and be beleaguered by 30-something (and in my case 40-something) men.
If chilean men are terribly sexually repressed, or at least howl and whistle as though they are, at least they can salsa.
The worst whiskey sour I have ever tasted in my life (though I'd never had a bad one up to this point). side note: why can't chilean bartenders put ice in their drinks? and why do they insist on serving everything in fluted champagne
Enough. no importa! I found myself somehow agreeing to bailar... Ay de mi. Ojala
que encuentre un pololo para evitar tal ocasiones. I have become so much wiser about reciting my number when asked. not like I would have been at all tempted. nunca nunca nunca.
A wonderful thing about my cell phone number aca in Chile is that I cannot for the life of me remember it to give out anyway!
My favorite part of the entire night: returning at 3:30, and lying on the driveway of the hostel where we could see stars and sharing spooky tales and fears and anger and excitement and frustration about men with Nikki, until we couldn't stay awake any longer. And feeling the entire world above. And seeing stars. And thinking about the sky that covers New Hampshire and how I would get the same feeling in the summertime with the people I love the most lying on the hard concrete of the driveway of the pink house.
Sunday: To be continued...after my second day of school. Everything happens so quickly that I cannot possibly hope to catch most of it...photos to come
Advertisement
Tot: 0.084s; Tpl: 0.011s; cc: 11; qc: 31; dbt: 0.0523s; 1; m:domysql w:travelblog (10.17.0.13); sld: 1;
; mem: 1mb