Rio de Janeiro

La Araucanía

Rapa Nui

The Lakes Region

Pisco and Vino

Chile is known for two libations, pisco and vino, and both have played an important role in the history and economy of the country. Pisco was produced by the Spaniards in the 16th century in Peru and Chile from fermented grapeskins, the remnants of the wine-making process. It is claimed by both countries as having originated there, but the old port of Pisco in Peru may actually place it in that country, although Chileans affirm that the Valle del Elqui, just below the Atacama Desert is where it was first distilled. Wherever it originated, it's a strong, woody liquor drunk straight up in a shot glass or mixed with fruit flavors in a cocktail.

Copper pisco still

Pisco labels

Pisco barrels

On a trip to La Serena, a town on the north-central coast, I went to one of the pisco distilleries near Vicuña called CAPEL, which stands for Cooperativa Agricultura Pisquera Elqui Ltda. The guide explained that the liquor today is made from Muscatel, Pedro Jimenez, and Torontel grapes, mixed in different ratios by different producers. The grapes are crushed, and the remaining 'must' is fermented so that the grape sugar turns to alcohol in huge stainless steel tanks. Then it is filtered and distilled in smaller copper stills and transferred to oak barrels to age. Young pisco is light yellow and tastes like other aguardientes, whereas aged pisco is darker and sweeter. We were given a taste of CAPEL's flavored piscos, which include mango, pineapple, and coconut. Pisco sours are popular in Chile, made with lime juice, egg white, and sugar, shaken with ice into a froth, and then poured into a glass flute - Salud!

Casablanca Valley

Stainless steel tanks

Tasting wine

Chile also has many wine-growing regions, and I have visited two: the Casablanca Valley with the Fulbrighters in March and the Maipo Valley with Aliana in June. We took a van to the Casablanca Valley for a wine tour and lunch at the Indomita winery, built in the 1990's to look like a moorish castle on a hill. We saw the stainless steel tanks where the juice of the grapes is fermented with yeast and the underground bodega where the wine is aged in barrels, and afterward we were invited to taste a few varieties. I discovered my favorite Cabernet Blanc there, which I have been buying ever since. Our visit ended with a pleasant lunch on a terrace overlooking acres of vineyards below.

Aliana and Cousiño

Old wine barrels

Bodega with aging wine

 When Aliana came from Ecuador at the end of June, we went to the Maipo Valley, named for the river that runs from the Cordillera de los Andes and waters the vineyards. The name of the winery was Cousiño Macul, and in contrast to Indomita, a newcomer to the business, it is one of the oldest in the country. In the 16th century, the King of Spain transferred Viñeda Macul to a conquistador, and later in the 19th century, Matías Cousiño, a mining baron, acquired the property. When he died, his son Luís continued to develop the vineyards, but when he died unexpectedly at the age of 38, his wife, Isadora Goyenechea, took over the work with the help of a French enologist. (A street in Santiago is named after her to commemorate her work with the vineyards.) Today the winery is one of the most prestigious in Chile, and Aliana and I enjoyed walking between the ancient barrels and seeing the remnants of the old process of bottling wine literally by hand. We tasted of few varieties and bought a few bottles to take home. It was there that I discovered my favorite Cabernet Sauvignon (Antiguas Reservas), which I am sipping now.

In the old bottling cellar
[Click on photos to enlarge]

Pisco and vino are the two drinks most people order on their evenings out, and I have very much enjoyed estos tragos durante mi teimpo en Chile!

The Atacama Desert

Miners' houses on hillside

I flew into Antofagasta, one of the northern coastal cities around which many mines are located; Mineras Escondido operates the world’s largest copper mine southeast of the city, with another open-pit mine nearby. Gold and silver are also found in the area, along with the ghost towns from when the precious metals were first discovered. Riding the bus west across the desert to Calama and then to my final destination, San Pedro, I saw grim evidence of mining: ramshackle clusters of miners’ houses, large tents filled with mattresses and blankets, rails for trains leading to processing plants, and dirt roads criss-crossing the dry mountainous landscape.

Quinta Adela

Arriving in San Pedro after a comfortable but inexpensive three-hour bus ride, complete with reclining seats and leg-rests, I dragged my wheelie suitcase through the dusty, unpaved streets until I found the hostel, Quinta Adela, an old country home that an retired couple had turned into a bed-and-breakfast. It is still run by two of their adult children who were helpful and attentive. I walked around the ‘one-horse town’ and booked three tours for the next three days, although I could have booked two per day. Because of the altitude, however, I wanted to take is easy and relax as well as see the desert.

Cactus-wood stairway

San Pedro is on a high plateau near an oasis and was populated in pre-Columbian times by the Atacameños whose basketwork and pottery are still seen in present-day handicrafts. Its white adobe colonial church, built in the 17^th century by the Spanish, has curving weathered floorboards and a cactus-wood ceiling. When I heard the bells chime, I went in and stayed for evening mass. An altar girl was busy directing the altar boys and and a group of young men from a prep school in uniform sweatsuits sang the hymns.

Algarrobo

Algarrobo trees with huge knotted trunks adorn the plaza near the church, and the buildings of the town are made of adobe, a mixture of clay and straw, that reflect the soft, warm brown of the hills of the antiplano. It absorbs heat during the day so that houses are warm inside by evening, and then cool by morning. When I got back to the hostel every night, although it was chilly, my room was relatively warm. There were thick blankets on my bed so I slept well, but when I got up in the morning, I could see my breath.

Salt lake

On the way to the salt flats on the afternoon of the first tour, our guide told us about the volcanoes' names in the Domyeko Range and their meaning to the indigenous peoples. Many of the peaks are extinct or dormant volcanoes - although some are still active, the ones with vapors floating on the top. They vary between 2000 and 6000+ meters (6,500 to 20,000 feet), which is why it's wise to take it easy the first day or two rather than risk the symptoms of altitude sickness, which range from shortness of breath to headaches and nausea.

When we got to the Lago del Cejar, most of us stripped down to our bathing suits and waded into the cold water. It was easy to float because of high concentration of salt. When it was time for the sun to set, we had to rinse off the salty crust with fresh water before putting on our clothes. The guides set up tables with snacks and bottles of pisco sour, so we watched the sun set behind the hills, toasting an enjoyable afternoon with new-found friends.

Antiplano lake

The next tour to the antiplano lakes started at 7am, and we rode through the desert surrounded by hills with remarkable rock formations – tufts of brown meringue, spiked or rounded, with shades ranging from purple gray in the shadows to sandy red in the sun. We arrived at the shallow lakes of Miscanti and Miñiques where we ate the breakfast the guides set before us, walked around the lakes, and enjoyed the mountain views. It's hard to believe that these salt flats contain a quarter of the world's lithium supply, and that between the mountains, hidden from tourists' viewfinders, stand the production sites.  

Flamingos feeding

Our next stop was the Luguna de Chaxa, where waterbirds, especially flamingos, stop on their migratory paths to feed in the salt water on algae, plankton, and tiny crustaceans. The lakes are surrounded by crusty formations on which the flamingos nest and lay their eggs. Nesting season was over so we only saw about a dozen flamingos culling the water with their beaks, along with other waterfowl. Then rode down into a valley to an indigenous town to see an adobe church with a cactus wood interior, llamas raised for wool, and artisan goods for sale.

Fumarolas

The final tour started at 4am, and it was hard to get up and dressed in the cold and wait for the tourist van in the dark. But when we got to the Geysers de Tatio a few hours later, it was worth the hardship. Before the sun rose, the steam wafting from the holes in the ground was both magical and mystical. When the shafts of light illuminated the hills above us, slowly lighting up the surrounding geysers, we drifted between them taking pictures, engulfed in the steam from the boiling water rising from holes, breathing the sulfurous gases. The air temperature was below 30ºF, while the water was above 200ºF.

Thermal bath near geysers

We again were served breakfast by our guides and then allowed to wander around at will or bathe the natural thermal pool where natives had been going for centuries. Of course I opted for the bathing, thinking that thermal waters might restore my youth, but despite the mythological properties of the water, it was just plain fun taking off most our clothes in the freezing temperatures and then sliding into hot springs in the morning sun with people we had just met, a delightful experience!

Valley of the moon

Riding back over the desert to Antofagasta to take the plane back to Santiago, watching the glorious hues of sunset-drenched earth change from red to brown to light-dotted darkness from thousands of meters up was a satisfying end to my journey. The tiny tourist town of San Pedro, the small restaurants I had eaten in, the comfortable hostel I stayed at, and the people I met on the tours were all fantastic, better than a dream. I felt I knew another side of Chile very different from the lake region of the south and the coastal towns of the center. This long narrow strip of land had acquired yet another dimension in my mind and experience.

Llama

Alpaca

Vicuña
[Click on photos to enlarge]

                                    

Valpo and Viña

Hills of Valparaíso

One of the first trips I took when I got to Chile was to Valparaíso, which is about 120 km. west of Santiago on the coast. It's a small city of many hills overlooking the sea. Steep funiculars and long flights of steps allow people to go between the upper and lower levels. I stayed at a charming hostel owned by a Belgian couple who served wonderful breakfasts with freshly blended juices, home-made bread, and delicious cold cuts. It was there that I felt the first tremors of an earthquake whose epicenter was further down the coast. As I lay in bed wondering what to do, the nightclubs opened their doors, and the musical beat reverberated through the narrow streets. Although I couldn't see them, it sounded like all the young people poured out into the streets and just kept dancing.

Neighborhood stairway

The town has wonderful street art, and around every corner  is a sight to behold. Some businesses pay people to paint their walls, but I suspect that some don't, and they still get art, whether they like it or not. By night it's eerie, and by day, it's delightful. There are also a few museums, like one dedicated to Lukas, a cartoonist who made Chileans laugh through good times and bad with ironic one-liners. Shops, galleries, street vendors, outdoor cafés, and seafood restaurants make life idyllic for visitors and residents alike.

Port of Valparíso

On the southern edge of the town is the port, which was an important site throughout the history of Chile, first for the Spanish, whose ships came through the Strait of Magellan at the southern tip of South America and docked here. Later it was used by other European countries when immigrants came to settle, and trade increased. Today it is the official port of the Chilean Navy, a ship repair base, and a refueling station for the many vessels that move through the southern Pacific.
 

La Sebastiana

On one of the hills sits La Sebastiana, one of the three houses built and furnished by Chilean poet and Nobel Laureate Pablo Neruda. Named after the original owner, Don Sebastian Colloa, the outside is whimsical, and the inside is a maze of rooms filled with objects collected by Neruda and set in place with special care. He is said to have visited antique stores and flea markets on weekends to collect objets d'art, and it's easy to see how imaginative he must have been to search for and take pleasure in a myriad of treasures.

Wulff Castle

On the northern edge of the city is Viña del Mar, a separate town filled with high-rise apartments and upper-crust restaurants and shops. Wulff Castle is a seaside mansion rebuilt by a German baron in the early 1900s. From a adjoining restaurant, I could see pelicans, cormorants, and seagulls searching for their dinner. Unlike in Valpo, there are white sandy beaches in Viña, and the sea is a deep aquamarine. Both towns have their charm and are wonderful places to visit again and again.

Sunflower Hostal

Salvador Allende

Wall Art
[Click on photos to enlarge]