When we first arrived in Santiago I was overwhelmed by the crowds, wondering if I would be able tolerate a week there. By the time we left I was sorry to go. I enjoyed our time in Santiago and would like to have time to get to other areas of Chile.

The people were friendly and helpful and we found plenty of quiet spaces to relax.

We did not make it to the top of the highest tower in Santiago since we decided the the view would likely not top the view from the Santuario de Concepcion Imaculada. Plus it was 45USD per person.

We enjoyed walks through adjoining neighborhoods from our apartment. Many of the buildings were brightly decorated with murals.

In the neighborhood of Buena Vista we visited the home of Pablo Naruda, the celebrated poet. Photos were not allowed.

We stopped into a bar that maintained its ambiance from yesteryear.

Paula reported some graffiti that will be my current motto:

“The world is as it is, not as some son of a bitch named Einstein says it is.”

I wish I knew to attribute that quote.

Our days in Chile were full and enjoyable. The time sped by and it seems we did much more than I can recall in this internet cafe a week later.

That’s it for now.

Charlie

On a long bus ride you will receive boxed food. I mentioned already the hot meal on the overnight trip from Buenos Aires to Mendoza. In the morning, we received a breakfast box. On both legs of our ida y veuleta Santiago-Mendoza  trip, and on the overnight trip Mendoza to Cordoba we also received breakfast boxes. Here is what they consist of: an alfajor (that sandwich cookie I wrote about before); a package of what are called biscocho de grasa, which are tasty and savory, not sweet; 2 packages of sugar, a napkin, and either instant coffee or a coffee bag (you know, like a tea bag, but with coffee – it’s terrible); a tea bag; a plastic stirrer.

Our bus at Argentina aduana.

Lunch on a long leg consists of either a ham and cheese sandwich or a chicken paste sandwich, also accompanied by an alfajor. Hey, it’s the national cookie. The box also contains everything else that’s in the breakfast box, minus the biscocho de grasa.

Movies are provided during the day or leaving earlier in the evening. I’ve noticed that they fall into 2 camps: a comedy chic flic and an action packed, shoot-em-up flic. One for the gals and one for the guys, I guess. I’ve watched two of them, both silly, but as they are in Spanish, I appreciate the practice.

Waiting for a bus can be a little harrowing. You purchase your ticket and are then told a range of platforms in which the bus might park. So you watch for your bus company, keeping an eye on platforms 10-20, say and reading the bus signs for destination and departure time. Actually, it was only a little nervous making the first few times. I have no qualms about asking the bus driver for clarification.

Santiago is about 1/3 the size of Buenos Aires and it feels it. Really. 10 million people make a big difference.

I got attacked by the bogus “bird poo” scam again in the Mendoza bus station. I felt a spray on the back of my head. A woman sidled up and with a sympathetic smile said, “Birds.” I looked her in the eye and said, “No son los pájaraos, es una persona,” with derision in my tone, eyeing her suspiciously. She took off at quite a clip.

Leaving Argentina for Chile and leaving Chile for Argentina, we did not go through passport control – no exit stamps.

In Argentina, they will add the “servicio” to the bill, but you can’t include it on the credit card. You must leave cash. In Chile and Uruguay, the “propina” is added and you can pay it via credit card. In both countries, they ask if you’d like to add it. It’s a standard 10%.

I am so behind that I won’t attempt to write about our last day or two in Chile. Charlie has that covered. And as these last days in Colanchanga I have not had adequate or prolonged access to internet, I’m off on that count. But I will write a bit about Colanchanga in the next post. We are in Rio Ceballos, having brunch at a cafe with good wifi, so here I come.

Paula

As we continued our walk in Valparaiso we decided that it was a good day for the beach. Since Valparaiso is a port city the few beaches are not really very pleasant. However a twenty minute bus ride takes one to Vina Del Mar, which has much better access to the ocean.

The agent at the information center advised us to get off the bus at the “flower clock” and walk a couple minutes to the beach.

Here is the flower clock.

And here is the beach near the flower clock.

Fortunately a young man on the bus give us alternate directions to the beach he prefers. It was close to 4 kilometers further into town. Here is the beach he recommended:

We were thankful for the advise from a stranger.

Overall our experience in Chile was a welcoming and to some degree an embrace.

It was in this spot that Paula was able to fulfill a wish to swim in both the Atlantic and the Pacific on the same trip.

Charlie

What you don’t know doesn’t really matter. Or it could, but as you don’t know until later, it doesn’t matter. Or it does matter, but in a way you didn’t expect.

I’d read about Cacheuta Thermal springs in the Lonely Planet guide. As the guide was published in 2018, but the material sourced years earlier, it wasn’t all that relevant. I tried to find more info on-line. The website is terrible. Trip Advisor wasn’t much help either. So much conflicting and unspecific information.

Still, I wanted to go and so we went. From Mendoza it’s about an hour and a half bus ride. When the bus stopped, we followed everyone. I had read that there were two sections – an upper for kiddies and a lower for kids and everyone else. The entrance fee includes both. Which is great if you have kids, as both parts of the park are kid friendly.

This photo – rode along several narrow roads like this to get there.

I’ll say this: upon arrival, we were underwhelmed, as is often the case when expectations and reality converge. There were a lot of people. It seemed confined. Yet, as we entered further into the park, it expanded. Still, for the number of people there, it was crowded. And still, for that, it was very enjoyable.

A recorrido, or flowing river of water runs around the park. In the center is a large pool with a central fountain. Two water slides provide slippery means of entrance, should you select that mode. Or, you can just walk into the main cool pool. Around that, are numerous shallow soaking pools, with varying temperatures of naturally heated water to relax in.

As I was soaking in one of the shallow areas, a young woman joined the rest of us. Settling in, she sighed, “Es un paradis.” I could only agree, as the water was warmly welcoming, the sky overhead was deeply blue, and the surrounding foothills of the Andes provided a dramatic backdrop.

Another slide just to the left of the tube.

This seems to be the quintessential Mendoza day trip. Families come with chairs, food, mounds of equipment. They claim a picnic table in one of the many possible locations, either under a covered structure, or along the recorrido, under trees. In some areas, grills (parrillas) are available; wood to burn and cook on can be bought. Bring your own meat and accompanying side dishes and make a day of it.

It was an experience that told me, “This is Argentina.” Families are extended and expansive and really seem to enjoy one another. On arrival, we saw at least 10 family members enter the recorrido together, laughing and chatting and being in the moment. There is an ease among families here that seems accepting and voluminous. Voluminous in speech and laughter, and in the joy of living.

Now, as to what you don’t know. Rather, kind of know, but can’t pin down. Just up the road apiece from the public and populated thermal pools, there is a hotel with private thermal soaks. At the equivalent of ~$50 USD per person, you can imagine it is much more refined. There you will find showers, lockers, towels, room to spare in the thermal pools. What the website doesn’t tell you is that you must reserve in advance to access this delight of desultory relaxation. A variety of massages, facials, etc. are also available.

While that option may have been the more overall relaxing of the two, I have to say that I appreciated being amidst the gente and the full throated, full throttle exuberance of the more local experience. I mean, would the hotel have water slides and the recorrido and full on, true to life family outing? No. So, I’m glad I didn’t know in advance. Cuz, truthfully, I probably would have gone for the more expensive, more isolated, less true-to-everyday upscale selection.

Travel – it plunks you into the local, if you let it.

I was a few days into an intense period of pain due to a strained knee when we went to Valparaiso. As we entered the city on the regional bus my heart sank as I saw the hills, which are tall and plentiful. A stop in the visitor information office helped allay my concerns when we were directed to the many funiculars and ascensores that take people to upper elevations and miradores.

It was a Monday, and we have not yet learned that Mondays are part of the weekend in Argentina and Chile. Many places were not open and we had a good time walking the streets and appreciating the street art. I have to say that Valparaiso has been the most colorful place we have been. The many murals that adorn the buildings are colorful, artistic, whimsical and interesting in other ways.

I have not much more to say than we enjoyed the views from the Miradores and the street. Here are a few examples

Opera season at Teatro Colon in Buenos Aires begins a on March 12. We are returning home on the 14th, and bought our tickets for Rigoletto for the 13th. We are not sure if we have the proper clothes with us and may have to buy some.

We toured the theater while in BsAs. Our guide want a student of opera and gave impressive demonstrations of the acoustics. We knew we had to go for a performance but tickets did not go on sale until yesterday.

Here are a few photos of the theater.

Well, folks, we are 5 weeks into this 9 week trek. It feels quite different from the 2 months we spent in Europe. We have talked quite a bit about why this might be so. For me there are a few differences.

One – There is a big difference between hiking every day for a month and then touring, as we did last spring, and just touring, as we are doing now. We were both ready to head home after a month of visiting various locales in Spain and Portugal, after completing the Caminho Portugues. Yet, neither of us were ready to leave after the completion of the Caminho.

Two – We have been in big cities so far: Buenos Aires, Mendoza, Santiago, and to a lesser extent Montevideo. And while we have not been walking city streets from morning until late into the evening, we still have been surrounded by tall buildings, bus, car and truck traffic, and highly peopled streets when we are out. That is, excepting our few days in Punta del Diablo.

Three – After our days of hiking and staying in smaller Portuguese towns and cities, and with the exception of a few days in Barcelona and Madrid, we were in smaller, lower density places: Evora, Obidos, Viana del Castelo.

It catches me by surprise, this feeling that maybe 2 months is too long. I wonder, “Is this enough – to travel, see, and experience other places? Or, is there a way to travel that includes something more? Something more fulfilling; a way to contribute to the places and people we are visiting.”

Or maybe it’s just that 2 months in Argentina is too long. Last night, I was almost paniced with the realization that “we have to be here for another 4 weeks.” Maybe it was due to the long day we had spent traveling to and from Cacheuta for the thermal water and natural cold spring park. Maybe it was sitting at the bus station on a sweltering evening at 10 pm waiting for the 11 pm bus that would take us to Cordoba. Maybe it was the fact that I hadn’t been able to shower after spending a day in said waters.

Travel can be wearing, taxing, disorienting as evidenced by the above ruminations. I hadn’t had the energy to post the past few days. Curious, as that wasn’t my experience on the Caminho.

Travel can be  a wonder of sights, learning and renewal; a recognition that a feeling of the moment does not define the entire experience. That is what kept the panic at bay. So that even after a night on a bus, I awoke with a new attitude in a new locale.

I am now sitting on the patio of our brick cabin overlooking verdant hills, birds calling in their variety of languages, a cool breeze wafting by. We are in the small community of Colanchanga, outside of Rio Ceballos, which is an hour by bus from Cordoba. It is just what I need at this point in the journey. Quietude, abundant plant life, and a hammock for afternoon naps under the roof of the quincho.

Our host for this leg has been generous with her time. She picked us up at the Rio Ceballos bus terminal; took us for provisions to a market, a green grocery, and a panaderia. She gave us a short tour of their extensive lands, pointing out trails and destinations: to a spring fed pond for bathing, a waterfall, and places with benches just for sitting and gazing.

I started writing this last night, the 16th of febrero. Today, our first full day in this rural paradise, I conclude this post. Next, I plan to write about a quintessential Argentinian day out in Cacheuta.

As internet is about non-existant here, all my posts may become available on the same day.

Abrazos fuertes, Paula

It is a warm, partly cloudy day in Colachanga and we are taking another leisurely day, this time walking to a nearby lake. We we there late yesterday and the lake was crowded with canoes, kayaks, paddle boards and swimmers. Today is the start of the work week so the lake is much cleared out. Here are some before and after shots.

Yesterday

Today

This location is very nice, having the characteristics we discuss when we talk about leaving the US. It is remote yet close to a major city, mild climate, lots of water, and green.

One drawback is that there is no cell phone service and internet access is not particularly dependable. I am sending this from a cafe in the village since we cannot remain connected long enough to upload photos from our cabin.

In a way, having a period of relative isolation has been nice.

Here are a few photos of the surrounding area.

Now that we know we can access the internet here we will be a bit more diligent about posting.

Later

Charlie

They will be coming for me soon. My friends have already been taken. Some have died. Others have told what they know. I know what they know and now my anonymity is over. It will be soon they will come for me and I can not escape that certainty.

When they come for me they will ask “who else knows? Who have you told?” I know the answer, but will I speak it? I am weak, I will not stand up to the harsh interrogation. Eventually I will say what I know.

If I were to betray them, is it necessary that I undergo the torture first? Is there honor in resisting if the result will be the same? Must I make an effort to preserve fidelity, even if in vain?

Waking, I wonder why I have this dream. Is it because of the lands I have travelled? In the not so distant past people here have resisted. They resisted the torture, the disappearances, the deaths. They stood against the tyranny, the oppression, the minor and major betrayals. Are my dreams questions? Am I asking how I would fare in such situations?

Am I responding to something more immediate. I have become increasing concerned, of late, about the continual reports of the Mob. The Mob has come for many demanding reprisal for the major and minor heresies against the modern orthodoxy. Those who are exposed as sinners repent, but there is no forgiveness. You must deny your past, and by denying you gain nothing but greater levels of contempt. You must repent, but you cannot atone. You must betray your own life. That is the cost of your transgression.

Betrayal is the greater transgression. Dante assigns the final round of the ninth circle of hell for those who betray. The lowest level of hell is named for the one who betrayed he whom he loved with a kiss. JBP asserts that betrayal is the most heinous sin because it not only steals from others their future, but also robs them of their past.

Nearly all of the commandments relate to betrayal, though they are not phrased in that way. They speak of honor. You are commanded to honor others in specific ways. You are commanded to honor God, and to honor your father and mother. It can be simplified: honor your heritage, your parentage, your community, your culture, that provides you an identity and a place of belonging. You may not like it, but it is yours. Others may not like it, and so what?

What does it mean to honor? Can one honor and also transcend? Yes, my past and the past of my ancestors leads me this moment in time. The history of my personage is my reality and leaves me at the threshold of the future. Will you deny me my future because you disagree with my past? Do you demand that I betray the foundation of who I am?

When the Mob comes for your past, they ransom your destiny. If betrayal of others earns us a place in lowest level of hell what is our lot when we betray ourselves?

This post may have ended farther from the initial question than I intended, but maybe not. Why am I obsessed with questions of betrayal? I fear it is because our society is beginning to demand it.

Sorry about the multiple postings. I got three error messages saying my previous post did not upload. They lied.