Floating Around Chile

So, my 6:30pm "en la tarde" (in the afternoon, an expression which I love when referring to anytime between 12pm and 8pm) departure from Antofagasta to La Serena began my journey across two regions within a 12 hour time span. I was supposed to leave later at 8:10pm, but found room to leave earlier after class ended on Friday at 5:30pm. 12 hours on a bus leaves a lot of time for me to rest with my thoughts. I kept getting a sneaky suspicion the steward for the bus was checking me out as every time he passed my seat he had a huge grin on his face. This is not me being egotistical. As a ginga in Chile, you get used to being stared at like an alien from another planet. But sometimes, you just get sick of being the "it" person. My instinct proved me right when he pulled me aside on my way back from the bathroom and asked if I wanted to talk to him. I consented, although he had me wedged between himself and the window-- no escape! After talking to him for a while, I told him I was tired and went back to my seat. My friends and I joke about finding a fantasy Chilean guy on a bus with whom we can make-out with (sorry, any readers who are parents, but it's true). But somehow, the steward's using his work time as his socializing time didn't cut it for me... and I wasn't attracted to him. His friendship was proven advantageous when I almost didn't get off the bus at La Serena at 6:30am the next morning! It was pitch black outside and I had to get another ticket to Pisco Elqui, 2 and a half hours more on another bus. The man behind the counter at the bus stop told me the only place to buy a ticket to Pisco Elqui was up the street a block or so. I venture outside, only to find that the sidewalk ends (!!!) and the busy main road is the only thing to walk on. Consulting the counterman a second time, he tells me the bus terminal is past this section next to the mall. I make it to the bus terminal in one piece and wait until the Via Elqui bus company opens at 7:30am to get my ride. Mind you, I had used my debit card earlier that week to purchase the bus ride to La Serena, so I had no access to withdraw money until the transaction went through (hmmm... almost reminiscent of the calls I received at the Bistro!). I have just enough pesos to buy a one way ticket to Pisco Elqui. But the fun didn't stop there! I get off in Vicuna, a little town in the valley, only realizing after the bus has taken off that I'm not in Pisco. Finally, at 11am I roll into town. I wait for Vincent, my French friend, in the only plaza in town. There, Vincent and his 25 yr. old student friend, Savas, meet me. Gabriela, our new hostess in town, drives us to her home where we are staying for the weekend. I dress to go for our walk, and we hike the mountains of Pisco Elqui, accompanied by Gabriela's dogs, Turco and Draco. Ironically, "Turco" becomes Savas' favorite as "Turco" means Turk, and Savas' father's descendents are Turkish (his mother's family is Armenian). We follow the horse trail, stop for ham and cheese sandwiches (on WHEAT bread!) and continue through the valley to Los Nichos. Los Nichos is known for it's fresh pisco-- a brandy-like liqueur commonly made in Chile. Of course, at our arrival at 2pm, everything is closed for lunch. A vendor obligingly lets us in after a couple minutes and we sample the pisco which says "35" (yet its said that pisco is 70% alcohol). Whatever the percentage is, it is STRONG stuff. Straight pisco is for serious drinkers only... so I usually take mine with sour mix (pisco sour). We met two other French people in Los Nichos, a young woman and man, both mechanical engineers working in Santiago also visiting Valle de Elqui for the weekend. They give us a ride back to Pisco Elqui, sparing us the 5 km walk back. I felt a little guilty taking the ride. Not for my own sake, but the dogs, Turco and Draco, were left to fend for themselves. Vicente and Savas didn't seem to mind that we might have abandoned our hostess' dogs in the remote town, but I prayed they would make it back. We toured the distillery of Mistral next to the town's plaza with our two new engineer friends. Of the different piscos made there, Mistral Nobel and Tres Erres (Three R's) are the elite types. Both have the same amount of alcohol in them, but Tres Erres is clear and fruitier and Nobel is very dark and oakey. We sat in the patio and had pisco sours at the end of our tour. Before heading back to the house, we picked up more meat for our evening asado. That night, we prepared some rice and boiled potatoes to go with the pork chops and chicken pieces Savas had cooking over the bbq pit. Vincent and Savas, both being blessed with skinny French bodies (or maybe its their obsessive smoking habit) ate blissfully while I hit my limit and then headed for bed. The Concho y Toro wine with dinner was enough for me and I left the boys as they proceeded with the pisco. How I couldn't wait to sleep in the full-sized bed in my single room! Unfortunately, sprawling out on the bed was not an option as I had layered myself in all the clothes I brough on the trip-- my fleece, my parka, my REI gloves and my socks-- to fend off the valley's cold night air! That's the life of the valley-- freezing nights of near zero degrees and then a strong sunlight during the day. It's the weather that makes the valley perfect for harvesting grapes (hence the town's name, Pisco). On my last day with the Frenchmen in the wine valley, we drove to Cochiguaz. Actually, Gabriela drove us in her little pickup truck with her 10 year old son, Cristobal, and his little friend Pablito by her side. I rode in the truck's back with four other adults-- Vincente, Savas, Claudia the historian, and Fernando Rodriguez the poet (also guests in Gabriela's home). The view during our ride was incredible! We barreled through the valley in the little truck. At times, I thought the car wouldn't make it and imagined my body bouncing out of the truck and into the ravine, but the fall air was fresh and the sunlight made the ride very sweet. The famous Chilean poet, Gabriela Mistral, grew up in Monteverde, a neighboring town in the valley. The poet told us that Mistral's poems describe the aridness of the region and the contrast between it's beauty and harshness. We admired Rio Elqui when reaching Cochiguaz an hour later. We also stopped by Spa Cochiguaz and drank jugo natural (blended fresh fruit juice). At the Spa, they were selling necklaces made of marfil vegetal, a material derived from a plant similar to a palm tree. We had just enough time when we returned to Pisco Elqui to eat lunch before heading to La Serena. I opted not to have a completo and tried humita for the first time. Huma is ground corn wrapped in some kind of leaf, very much like a tamale without the meat. I ate it with ahi (Chilean hot sauce) and Chilena (chopped tomatoes and onions). Savas, Vincente and I arrived in La Serena just before my next bus to Antofagasta. Luckily, my card functioned at the ATM this time and I was able to pay back my French friends as they supported me the entire weekend (whether they wanted to or not, I'll never know, but that's the way it went). So, in reality, I saw no more than the bus terminal in La Serena. So, I'll have to travel back to Region 4 some weekend and visit La Serena una vez mas! All I have our my pictures, Fernando's book of poems (personally signed to me!), and my memories-- but it was all worth the trip!