Chile
A late night landing in Santiago led us to what seemed like the most glamorous hostel in Chile after our week in the jungle. Warm, comfy beds in a private room mixed with our weary bodies made for a good night’s sleep.
Knowing we would return to Santiago later in our travels, we quickly made our way to the coast. Viña del Mar offered cool ocean breezes that were welcomed after our sweat-soaked time in the jungle. Down at Reñaca beach, basking in the sun, our friends from Rio soon found us and offered to show us their city.
They took us to some sand dunes just past the edge of town. These dunes towered above us, and it seemed as though we had left the quaint little beach town behind and were in another environment entirely. Right off of the coast, these dunes seemed out of place. Up we went, the sand dragging us down one step for every two taken. On top, laughing and doing cartwheels in the sand, we watched as the sun set over Chile.
Our Chilean friends, Ignacio and Pali, invited us to an authentic Chilean barbecue, complete with meat, wine, and more meat. Our hosts’ hospitality was overwhelming as they continued to feed us well into the night. This is what Ignacio called “the Chilean way.” We sat on Ignacio’s porch eating and drinking wine, getting to know each other that much better, quickly realizing these would become life-long friends.
Not wanting to leave their company so soon, we all took a quick trip to Maitencillo. This small beach town offered beautiful beaches, normally crowded with families looking to escape the city. This day, however, the beaches were empty. It was the end of the season, which made it that much easier to score a beach side cabana for the four of us.
The cold water chilled our toes and we set up the perfect spot to watch the sun go down once again. Piscolas went down easy with good conversation and leftovers from the barbecue, and we ended the night feasting and drinking and laughing until we couldn’t stay awake any longer.
Ignacio and Pali gave us a lift in the morning to Valparaíso, the colorful city on a hill. Small alleys of staircases only accessible by foot mixed with the steep streets. We quickly got lost in this maze of a city, eventually finding our hostel tucked away along a staircase.
We dropped our bags and went out to explore this intriguing city. Street art met us at every turn; each new mural giving this city the vibrancy it is known for. We found our way to various viewpoints, marveling each one with awe. Soon enough, we were at a rooftop bar overlooking city and its port below, drinking pisco sours and taking it all in.
Because the city is on a hill, outdoor elevators or “ascensores” are scattered throughout the city to help people get from point A to point B cheaply and quickly. After heading down to the port to see all the boats and cargo ships, we found a nearby ascensor that promised a beautiful view of the sunset, and an even better view of the city and port at night. Another drink at our rooftop bar, and once again we reflected on our decision to make this journey together. Joy and more pisco raged through us and we went to bed two happy travelers.
What do they say about the best laid plans? The next morning, as I was stretching my neck, I tweaked something, literally throwing off the entire day. Unable to even straighten my neck, we took it easy in the hostel until about noon. Refusing to be bested by my condition, we ventured out to grab some lunch before joining in for a free walking tour.
In the walking tour, we learned all sorts of bits and pieces about the city. The original port before the Panama Canal was developed, Valparaíso used to be a booming city. It served as a major stopover for sailors from all over the world with a thriving port-based economy, creating the foundation for this culturally rich city. With the opening of the canal however, the city’s economy suffered drastically, and it wasn’t until the last fifteen years that the city has fully recovered.
Surprisingly, graffiti is also illegal in Valparaíso. Many people who own property, however, will pay artists to come and create a mural on the side of their home. This is helpful for the postman who often has descriptive markers on his mail such as: the bright blue house at the end of the street.
After the tour, we grabbed a drink at a new viewpoint, noticing billowing smoke rising from behind the hill. Upon inquiry, we found out that a forest fire had broken out just over the hill. Luckily, it was under control, but people who lived closer were being evacuated as a precaution.
We grabbed our bags and went back to Viña del Mar with Pali and Ignacio. Our hosts were more than kind again and invited us to dinner with Pali’s family. We enjoyed our last night in northern Chile immensely, thankful to have found to company of new friends. Our time in Patagonia was next on the agenda; we could barely contain our excitement to spend two weeks in the harshest terrain Chile has to offer.
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A late night arrival in Punta Arenas was less than welcoming. Unable to find a taxi, we wondered if sleeping in the airport was the best option. A taxi pulls up around 2:00 a.m. and we hop in, heading to the nearest hostel. Four hours of sleep and then we were off to catch the bus to Torres del Paine and the volunteer organization (Agrupación Medio Ambiental, or AMA) we would work with for the next two weeks.
As our luck would have it, the bus station is closed at the time we were supposed to meet to get our tickets. We try to go to AMA’s nearest office, only to realize the address given to us does not exist. Later, we would learn that there was a national time change in Chile and we missed our meeting by only 30 minutes...Unknown to us then, we head back to the bus station and decide to go ahead and buy our tickets to Puerto Natales, the last stop before going into Torres del Paine.
In the Puerto Natales bus station, someone familiar with AMA tells us exactly where to go once we arrive in the park. Just in case, we go to the local grocery store and buy enough food for a backpacking trip on the W trail. We hop on the bus that will take us into the park and cross our fingers.
In the park, we finally find the leader of AMA and are relieved to finally meet someone associated with the program. We round the corner and are awestruck. The view we will be seeing for the next two weeks is spectacular. The mountain looks down at us and we look back, smiles spreading ear to ear.
We meet our fellow volunteers who come from all over the world. Denmark, Spain, Brazil, Norway, Switzerland, and the Netherlands are all represented. We engage immediately with all of the other volunteers, and are shown around what will be our home for the next two weeks.
Each morning was greeted by the crisp morning air. Barely able to escape the warmth of our shared sleeping bag, it was a race to put on our warm layers stuffed down at our feet. Yet the minute we would step outside, we became ignited with the beauty that surrounded us each and every waking moment. Our hard work here served a purpose, one we committed to wholeheartedly. Replanting native lenga trees, creating signs, maintaining trails, collecting and counting seeds, rebuilding a bridge: our tasks could be grueling and uncomfortable, yet the completion of each project meant that even more people would be able to enjoy this beauty in the future.
Turning another year older amongst this landscape sent thrills through me. I was the farthest south I had ever been with my best friend at my side, and now I was 24. I worked hard in the wood shop, drank boxed wine under the mountain, and had “Happy Birthday” sung in Danish to me around the warm wood burning stove in our dome; I was queen for a day.
Interspersed between our time working, we found escape in the mountains.
Waking in darkness, headlamps led the way along unknown trails. The sun met us at the top, bathing the waiting earth below in mellow pinks, dark reds, and finally, a warm gold. New friends among us, we sat in wonder at how our paths led us there.
Attracted by a nearby horse carcass, a local puma took to our liking over the course of our two weeks in Torres del Paine. Multiple times we came across this magnificent beast lurking through the tall grass. Unsettling yet marvelous, seeing this wild predator up close was a feeling I won’t soon forget. Though it made a midnight trip to the bathroom scary as hell.
Other animals greeted us during our time in Patagonia as well. Each one seemed to venture closer than any wild animals we had seen back home. Tourists have made finding food easy for these creatures, yet each time we crossed paths it seemed special.
We were left with three days off from volunteer work, and used them to hike the W trail. This trek held marvels you had to see to believe. Glacier Grey and Mirador Británico in the Valle Francés awaited as we had already made the sunrise hike up to Mirado Las Torres. I would even consider this our first ever “backpacking” experience. We had both camped, to be sure, but never had we carried everything on our backs and set out into the wild.
After that trip, I fell in love with that feeling of carrying all of my needs on my back. To have experienced that in Torres del Paine is something I will cherish forever. We completed the W together, in the highest of spirits, and the beer was well earned after two days of relentless ups and downs. High fives were most certainly in order.
A few more days at camp AMA, a few more nights of international drinking games, and it was time to head back north. New friends at our side, we left this bewitching and brutal terrain for the city.
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Upon our return to Santiago, we couldn’t be more excited to explore this city alongside our new friends. It was here on our journey that we would experience our first “party hostel” under the worst circumstances: Scott was sick. We dealt with the horde of partiers as best we could and quickly left the next morning.
After the rush of being in the wilderness, the city felt different. We explored the city, yet yearned to be back in nature. The places we ventured to in Santiago were magnificent: Cerro Santa Lucía, the Santiago Museum of Contemporary Art, Bellavista, Mercado Central, but they couldn’t quite capture the raw majesty that the mountains held in Patagonia. Regardless, we enjoyed ourselves thoroughly with some fine city dining and good company.
We tried to visit the vineyards that Chile is known for, but seeing as we tried to go visit on Good Friday in a country where 55% of the population is Catholic, all of the vineyards were closed. After two hours of trying to make it out to the countryside, we could do nothing but laugh at our misfortune.
For our last night in Chile, we said goodbye with a rooftop party at our hostel. Drinks all around, we were sad to go but were also in good spirits knowing we would see our Danish and Dutch friends back in the states when we returned. Arequipa, Peru was our next destination. A new country, new adventures, and new scenery was waiting. We were ready.