Tony and I have lived abroad for 17 years, and without a doubt, the hardest part for me is the lack of contact time with my parents, siblings, and seven adorable nephews and nieces. We chose this lifestyle to see the world, immerse ourselves in different cultures, and broaden our perspectives. So when a school break comes along, I grapple with a self-imposed guilt-ridden juggling act: Go home? Explore a new place?
The week before Easter, I chose to go home. I took a few personal days, combined it with our two days off school, and headed to Florida. I thought I would enjoy a little quiet time with my parents and get the scoop on my dad’s illness. That happened – a bit – but thanks to school holidays around the world, my visit turned into a mini-reunion.
My sister Kate brought her three boys from Michigan, and my brother Mike and his wife, Summer, traveled from Korea with their two kids. Our other sister Megan had just wrapped up a Florida trip, so she couldn’t justify joining us, unfortunately.
With live music in the town square every night, the younger kids danced their hearts out. The older ones are just starting to get embarrassed by their family, so they mostly sat out.
Max and my mom boogie.
This is my new go-to happy video. Jack was the life of the party.
We spent a day at the club pool, where my face hurt from laughing at the shenanigans of these silly cousins.
Max celebrated his fourth birthday with a pool party at the hotel. Such a cutie.
One night, I sent the other adults out to dinner while I hung out with the younger crowd at the hotel. It started to get a little out of control…
… so I turned it into a dance party! Each kid had to get up and teach us a dance move. Then we put it all together.
I was flying out Saturday afternoon, so Easter came a little early. The littlies colored eggs, and the next day they arrived at my parents’ house to find the Easter Bunny had hidden candy-filled eggs around the yard.
How is it I didn’t take a family photo? Sigh… As I mentioned, this kind of gathering doesn’t happen very often. This is the best I can offer. My nephew Paul kept “flossing,” a dance that literally every third grader in the freakin’ world is doing these days. So we made this video.
My dad and I spent one day together while the rest of the crew took off for a gator park. I took him to a doctor’s appointment, we ran a few errands, and we ate lunch at Sweet Tomatoes (always a treat!). With our loud, rambunctious family, he often struggles get a word in, so I appreciated this quiet time to catch up.
He and I launched a project to scan old photos. It’s a tedious, time-consuming process, but it was fun to reminisce about my own childhood and hear my parents’ familiar stories about their youth. I was going to post some of my favorites, but then I spent another hour or so sorting through them, getting lost in memories. I’ll just wrap up with this pic of chubby one-year old me.
Back in Chile, my heart aches already. There’s never enough time with that gang.
Well, dang it. Sometimes someone just beats me to the punch.
I was just getting ready to compose a witty and fascinating post about our stay at WineBox in the Chilean port city of Valparaiso. Then google handed me this: Grant Phelps and His WineBox by Kendal Montgomery on her website Purple Mouthed.
No point reinventing the wheel. This lady nailed it. So… instead, I’ll strongly encourage you to read her post, and I’ll just add a bit of commentary about our visit.
On Feb. 11, we took off for the coast to celebrate the birthday of our friend Sam. The plan included a tour and lunch at Casas del Bosque winery in the Casablanca Valley before checking in at WineBox, a new hillside hotel built out of retired shipping containers and overlooking the sea.
As we all waited in the warm sunshine, the winery started its tour without us, even though our conspicuously big gringo group had just paid. Hmmm… maybe we could have lunch first and do the tour afterwards? A waitress led us to the restaurant, where alas, there were no tables available. Hmmm… maybe we could just sit outside and drink wine? So that’s what we did. Eventually we had lunch, but the tour never materialized.
Sam and Hilary do their best “catalog models in a vineyard” schtick.
Later, we zigged and zagged up one of Valparaiso’s famous hills to reach WineBox, where we parked in the combination winery/parking garage. The place was bursting with color and art, and we all felt giddy at the novelty. Just when you think Valparaiso can’t get any quirkier…
Even the beams in the garage featured stenciled art – facts about shipping containers, of course.
Upstairs, we explored our rooms and the rooftop bar. Such a fun vibe.
We spent the evening with pizza, wine, and games. After breakfast the next morning, winemaker and WineBox owner Grant Phelps shared his story. Check it out:
Before heading back to Santiago, Grant offered me a “syrah lay back.”
“What’s that?” I asked.
He explained, “You lay on the wine barrels and I shoot wine into your mouth.”
“Oh hell, no,” I said.
But Sarah said, “Oh hell yeah!” And that’s how Sarah became the first person in WineBox history to experience the syrah lay back. I made her wipe the wine off her back and out of her hair before getting in my car.
This post is WAY overdue! Our trip to Buenos Aires took place Feb. 3-9. Sooooo… it’s time to catch up …
We first registered on the website Trusted Housesitters to find people to care for our cat, Ella, when we traveled. However, we’ve since discovered an unexpected perk: These are cool people! We’re making interesting friends with people from all over the world. For our weeklong trip to Buenos Aires, we were thrilled to welcome Aideen and Jonny, newlyweds from the UK, to hang out at our apartment. We may even visit them in Ireland some day! This is becoming an iconic pose on my blog: Us with our latest pet sitters, drinking pisco sours at Tiramisu.
We were traveling with our friends, Nancy and Jim, so I had booked two Airbnb apartments in the same Buenos Aires building. Unfortunately, the apartment owner canceled at the last minute because of a maintenance issue. Impulsively, Nancy and I each booked separate Airbnb’s in the same district, but they turned out to be a fair distance apart. Ours was a tiny studio, and theirs was a huge house. Bummer.
Right off the bat, we found a food truck festival and had a fun evening drinking a lot of Argentinian wine and pigging out.
I waited for 30 minutes (!) to get a hamburger from this food truck, while the rest of them gobbled up their delicious dinners from other trucks.
View from the bleachers.
Returning our “rented” wine glasses at the end of the night.
It’s possible we drank a bit too much wine … Jim and I couldn’t resist climbing this tree on the way out. A security guard blew his whistle at us, which seemed ridiculously funny at the time.
The next morning, we took the subway to the Independencia stop and strolled up the cobblestone streets to check out the Feria de San Telmo, the Sunday market. Booths lined Defensa Street with vendors selling everything from crocheted Barbie clothes and mass-produced souvenirs to stunning original artwork. We even ran into one of Ella’s previous cat sitters, Andrea, who makes and sells pompom earrings from Peruvian wool.
The stalls lined the road leading to Plaza Dorrego, which overflowed with more traditional antique market fare. Tango dancers staged a show in the square, and the surrounding restaurants offered their own tango entertainment. We paused for a beer at a café and watched the dancers for awhile. It was so intimate and sexy that I felt creepy taking photos. However, I did get a little footage of the outdoor show despite an obstructed view.
Normally, I am not an impulse shopper, but one particular booth at the market grabbed my attention. I just couldn’t take my eyes off a huge whimsical painting of a cow, so I bought it! Here it is, framed in my Santiago study. I love it! (Unfortunately, I lost the artist’s card. If you happen to visit the San Telmo market, please please please look for this artist and send me her contact info.)
Monday morning, we paid a quick visit to Al Ateneo Grand Splendid. Built as a performing arts theater in 1919 and converted to a cinema in 1929, the building was nearly demolished at the turn of the century during a downturn in the economy. Today, a coffee bar fills the stage where famous tango dancers used to draw crowds, and the audience seating has given way to bookshelves. According to the website Atlas Obscura:
Though some lament the loss of a beloved cinema, it is now thanks to the Grupo Ilhsa – which owns 40 bookshops, including the flagship Grand Splendid location – that visitors can still revel in this wondrous monument of a bygone era. While the selection of books on offer is standard chain store fare and mostly in Spanish, bibliophiles will find the staggeringly opulent display of books to be reason enough to pay El Ateneo Grand Splendid a visit.
That afternoon, Tony and I met up with Buenos Aires Free Walks for a tour of the city center. We started at Palacio del Congreso, the seat of the Argentine National Congress, with our passionate young guide, Martin, and about 30 other people. The three-hour tour gave us a good overview of of Argentina’s history and economy in a nutshell.
The next morning, the four of us joined Marika with BA Bikes for “North Circuit” tour. This was definitely a highlight, and I wish we’d had time to tour the “South Circuit,” as well. Next time!
At the Recoleta Cemetery, we locked up our bikes and walked around. The mausoleums ranged from simple to insanely ostentatious, and we were surprised at how many were clearly neglected. There’s nothing like a forgotten tomb to remind you of our fleeting impact in the world. Through the broken windows, we could see caskets draped with decayed and torn fabric and bouquets of silk flowers coated in dust. Weeds sprouted from the carved and cracked marble facades. Pretty humbling.
The most popular destination in the cemetery was the tomb of Eva Peron. I expected a huge monument, but she was buried in the Duarte family’s mausoleum with only a few plaques on the front to signify its importance.
Eva Peron was Argentina’s first lady from 1946 to 1952 and became and iconic, controversial celebrity. She died at the age of 33 from cancer, but her body took more than 20 years to reach its final resting place. A New York Times article sums up the complicated story nicely:
After her death in 1952, the corpse was put on display at the headquarters of the General Confederation of Labor, where admirers came by the tens of thousands with candles and flowers and held vigils. When Mr. Peron was toppled in 1955, military leaders determined that they had to keep Eva Peron’s body from opposing political forces but they did not know how best to accomplish that.
Finally, in April 1957, the military put the body on a ship bound for Italy where it was buried under a false name. Then in 1971, Gen. Alejandro A. Lanusse overthrew Gen. Juan Carlos Ongania, the Argentine military leader. In exchange for Juan Peron’s blessing from exile, General Lanusse agreed to hold elections, restore Mr. Peron’s citizenship, provide presidential back pay of $50,000 and give him the body of Eva.
The body was exhumed from a small cemetery near Rome and transported in a silver coffin to Juan Peron’s villa in Madrid. Italian and Spanish police officers accompanied the hearse. Mr. Peron kept the body in an open casket on the dining room table of his villa, where he later built a shrine for it in the attic.
In November 1974, after the death of Mr. Peron, Eva Peron’s body was brought back to Argentina by Isabel (Peron’s third wife), who succeeded him as President. It lay in state in the presidential residence until Mrs. Peron was overthrown in 1976, when the new military rulers had the body buried in the Duarte family tomb under three plates of steel in the Recoleta Cemetery in Buenos Aires.
The Palacio Barolo, an office building near the National Congress, was mentioned by several tour guides, so we decided to check it out. Completed in 1923, the building was Buenos Aires’ tallest skyscraper until 1936. But what lured us to learn more was its weird connection to Dante’s Divine Comedy. The Atlas Obscura website says:
Conceived of by cotton magnate Luis Barolo and architect Mario Palanti as a secular temple, the Palacio Barolo serves as an allegory for the structure and content of Dante Allighieri’s Divine Comedy.
Believing that Europe had begun drifting toward collapse, Barolo intended the Palacio Barolo to house Dante’s ashes far away from a disintegrating European continent. His partnership with Italian architect Mario Palanti, also a Dante aficionado, resulted in the design of a structure that included the numbers most prevalent in the Divine Comedy: The building’s 22 floors (Dante divided the Divine Comedy into 22 stanzas) sit upon a foundation whose measurements conform to the golden ratio. And, like Dante’s work, the building invites visitors to progress through hell, purgatory, and heaven as they climb to the top.
The lobby, a central hall adorned with inscriptions of Latin verse and monster statues, radiates out from a central dome into nine vaulted archways, which represent the nine circles of hell as described by Dante in the Inferno. Throughout these first three floors are geometric figures representing alchemical symbols for fire, the colors of the Italian flag, and Masonic symbols on the walls, floors, and still-operating antiquated elevators.
The highest levels, representing heaven, begin at an observation deck with one of the few 360 degree views of the sprawling city of Buenos Aires. Climbing a few more floors to the building’s highest point (100 meters, analogous to the 100 cantos of the Divine Comedy), one arrives at a still-working lighthouse.
Like the Pillars of Hercules at the mouth of the Mediterranean, Pilanti intended this tower light and another of his buildings, the Palacio Salvo in Montevideo, Uruguay, to serve as a welcome to visitors arriving from the Atlantic to the Rio de la Plata estuary. The ornament above the lighthouse, a figure of the Southern Cross constellation, aligns with the actual constellation on July 9th, Argentine Independence Day.
For a city with so much great art and tasty food, Buenos Aires made it particularly hard for us to spend money. Many places wouldn’t take a credit card, and most banks wouldn’t give us any cash. We watched locals form long lines each day until the ATMs ran out of money, and we often had to visit several bank branches before we found an ATM that would spit out some pesos.
One night, we met up with Nikki, a friend we knew in Laos who now works in Buenos Aires. We had planned to buy her dinner, but our efforts to find money that afternoon were unsuccessful. Embarrassing. Still, we had a great night at a fabulous Armenian restaurant called Sarkis.
Another night, we met up with Tom and Angie, friends from our days in New Delhi.
Although we were tempted to take another bike tour to a different part of BA, we decided instead to take a boat to a different country. We caught the Buquebus ferry for a one-hour journey from Argentina to Uruguay and spent the day in the port town of Colonia, a UNESCO World Heritage Site. Portuguese soldiers occupied the town in 1680, and the colony bounced back and forth between Portugal and Spain for more than 100 years. It was later incorporated into Brazil until after Uruguay was granted independence around 1828. The city is known for its quaint historical district with cobblestone streets shaded by sycamore trees and lined with charming shops and restaurants.
We walked around a bit and then rented a golf cart to check out the beach. After a relaxing lunch at a garden café, we climbed to the top of the lighthouse at the ruins of the Convent de Sacramento.
The next day, Jim and Nancy spent another day exploring Buenos Aires while Tony and I headed back to Santiago. Our house sitters moved on to northern Chile a few hours before we got home, but they left us with a clean apartment and a happy cat. With just a few days of freedom left before school started, we crammed in one more weekend of fun. Stay tuned!
Now that winter is summer and summer is winter, our school vacation schedule is upside down. For the last 15 years in Turkey, China, Laos, and India, we followed a North American calendar with a couple weeks off at Christmas and a longer summer break. In Chile, our “summer break” occurs now – from December to February.
To kick it off, we joined my sister Kate and her family at my parent’s house in Florida. Check out my last post about The Villages to get the scoop on this unusual place.
Christmas usually explodes all over my parents’ house, but my dad was under the weather and my mom couldn’t tackle the job alone. They put up a naked tree, and Kate’s three boys made cute decorations.
The first few days in Florida were cool but sunny. Kate, Tony, and the kids even went for a swim. I just dipped my legs in the hot tub.
On Christmas morning, we all opened our presents. Tony had just one gift left, marked “Open last!” He ripped off the paper to find a box of Cheez-Its, his favorite snack. Everyone leaned in to have a laugh, but it was a ruse. Even Tony didn’t know that I had wrapped up two Nerf guns and extra ammo. We pulled out our weapons and started pelting everyone. The kids shrieked and dove behind the furniture. The Christmas Nerf War is a Dickinson family tradition, so we were shocked that nobody else was armed. Kate quickly ran out to her van, where the boys had coincidentally left a couple Nerf archery sets. The kids holed up in the kitchen to load their bows. Eventually, Tony and I ran out of bullets, and we were too lazy to get off the couch, so we called a truce.
The boys wearing their silly knitted hats from Chile.
I also gave them each a little leather coin purse from Atacama, which Nico said was his favorite present. What a love bug.
The day after Christmas we ditched my parents and took off for the Kennedy Space Center Visitor Complex. The entrance featured the word “Explore” in huge letters with a rocket garden towering in the background. “This really is a dream come true for me,” said my brother-in-law John.
Visiting the various “mission zones” was like stepping through time, from the early days of America’s space program to the space race and moon landing to the ongoing efforts to get man to Mars. Most attractions featured videos with footage from the time period, NASA personnel commenting on their work, and astronauts reflecting on their experiences.
I had just watched the movie “Hidden Figures” on the flight to the States, so it was fun to put the true-ish story in context at the place where it all happened. One of the most fascinating take-aways for me was those first rockets launched with less computing power than we have in our cell phones today.
Gearing up for a 3-D movie about NASA heroes and legends.
Perhaps because I have such vivid memories of the space shuttle program, my favorite mission zone was “Shuttle: A Ship Like No Other.” I remember the pride and awe I felt over the Hubble Space Telescope and International Space Station, both made possible by shuttle missions. I also remember gathering in a friend’s dorm room at the University of Kansas to watch the launch of Space Shuttle Challenger and its horrific explosion that killed everyone aboard. According to the Kennedy Space Center website, “A ship like no other, the space shuttle launched like a rocket and landed like a glider while transporting astronauts to space and back for thirty years.”
At the space shuttle mission zone, the shuttle Atlantis was suspended from the ceiling, and exhibits demonstrated life on board for the astronauts. Atlantis flew its last mission – and the last of the shuttle program – in July 2011.
Nico and Paul check out a Mars rover concept vehicle.
On the Kennedy Space Center bus tour, we saw the insanely enormous gas-guzzling crawler-transporter that moves spacecraft from NASA’s Vehicle Assembly Building to the launchpads (which takes about five hours at a speed of 1 mph!). It is the largest self-powered land vehicle in the world. We also drove by the SpaceX building, where we glimpsed the Falcon Heavy rocket, the world’s most powerful operational rocket. SpaceX founder Elon Musk has said he plans to die on Mars, “just not on impact.”
At the IMAX movie, “Journey to Space,” we got a 4-D overview of NASA’s accomplishments and future plans. Four-year-old Jack fell asleep, but the rest of us were absolutely blown away. Such an exciting reminder of how far we’ve come and space adventures that await! NASA’s research and development in preparation for a Mars mission was straight out of a sci-fi movie.
We had expected to spend a few hours at the visitor complex, but we got there shortly after it opened and we left at closing time. It was an incredible place!
A few days later, Kate and her family packed up the van and drove back to Michigan, and Tony took off for Kansas to meet up with his sisters. My other sister, Megan, joined me in Florida for a few days to hang out with Mom and Dad, and then she and I flew to her home at Laughlin Air Force Base in Del Rio, Texas.
As soon as we pulled up to the house, these two cuties – Annesley and Will – ran out to greet me. So much love!
We went to the base library and checked out a bunch of books. I must have read Where the Wild Things Are 25 times. Stories and snuggles on the sofa? I could do that all day! We also played Headbanz, which was hilarious. At five years old, Will is surprisingly savvy at asking the right questions to guess the picture on his card. Annesley just tells you your picture, which essentially ends the game. I logged quite a bit of time pushing Annesley on the swing in their backyard, which was wonderful because she chattered the whole time.
Another highlight was Annesley’s tea party with her fancy china and stuffed animals. She fed them grapes and Scooby Snacks (dog bone-shaped graham cracker treats) and entertained them with ring-around-the-rosie and duck-duck-goose (tricky when your party guests can’t run).
Britt played ball tag with the kids in the backyard after work. They looked forward to it all day!
I got to visit each kid’s school. Here’s Will’s classroom.
One day, Megan took us for a hike in the Seminole Canyon State Park. The kids were good little trekkers, and Will genuinely listened to the tour guide, even asking a couple questions. (Maybe he’s the next generation Guide Hog?!) We walked to the Fate Bell rock shelter, where 4,000-year-old pictographs decorate the canyon walls. Our guide, Tanya, explained the ancient artists used minerals, plants, animal fat, and other natural resources to produce their paint. What do the pictographs mean? Nobody knows for sure, she said. According to the Texas State Historical Association:
The Pecos River style is a polychrome style that is considered a manifestation of the shamanic cult. The central characters of the pictographs are faceless anthropomorphic figures, elaborately dressed and often holding a variety of accessories such as atlatls, darts, and fending sticks. The figures are often depicted with their arms outstretched, and in later pictographs the anthropomorphs’ arms are increasingly stylized and seem to be more akin to wings than arms. At one end of the shelter there are also examples of Red Linear figures-a Late Archaic Period style characterized by very small stick figures engaged in various activities.
Tanya shares some details about the site while I marvel at the weathering and erosion that has sculpted the rock.
Looking out at the canyon from the rock shelter.
Some of the pictographs.
Megan checked out a Junior Park Ranger backback for the kids, which included binoculars, a sketchpad and crayons, a magnifying glass, and wildlife guides. So cool!
A prehistoric sea left fantastic fossils embedded in the rocks.
On another day, I got to combine two of my favorite things: my sister’s kids and horses! My brother-in-law, Britt, works with Ms. Jill, who recently broke her ankle and needed help keeping up with her five horses. Britt and I mucked out the stalls, which was much harder work than I expected. I actually only mucked out about half a stall before my body gave out on me.
The highlight, though, was this little guy. About four months old, he was 50% pony, 50% horse, and 100% loco.
One night, Megan took me to the Del Rio Civic Center, where the Lions Club offers bingo a few nights a week. I had no idea what I was in for. Bingo was serious business to this crowd. I’m guessing there were more than 100 people in the room, and many had their dauber collection on display. I bought a bright orange dauber and a bunch of bingo cards and then prepared to hit the jackpot. I was just two numbers away from winning $750, but alas, we both walked away broke but amused. And it was a great way to practice my numbers in Spanish! The bingo ball always appeared on the video screen before the announcer called the number in English and Spanish. I tried to say the number in Spanish in my head before she said it aloud.
Although my visit was too short, I felt grateful to experience a slice of life with my sister and her family.
Now, farewell to winter and hello to summer back in Santiago. We still have another month off work!
Maybe you’ve heard that the world’s biggest pool is located in Chile. Way back in August, a colleague advertised that her beachfront condo was available to rent. Nancy and I sat on my sofa, looking at the photos of the apartment, and we realized it was located AT THE BIGGEST POOL IN THE WORLD! Although I cringed at the idea of building a humongous pool literally right next to the ocean, and I didn’t even want to speculate about the environmental impact, I also couldn’t help but admit it would be pretty dang cool to say I went to the biggest pool in the world. Nancy and I got all giddy and decided to book it for Tony’s birthday, a long weekend.
As I said, that was back in August. Once we booked the apartment, we didn’t even think about it again. We didn’t do any research. We just piled in the car after school on Thursday, Dec. 7, and headed toward Crystal Lagoon. After a slight misunderstanding with Google Maps, which had us drive on the beach for a bit, we arrived at the compound. We signed in at the gate and received our resort bracelets, pulled up to the parking area, and dashed around the building to see the pool and the beach beyond.
If this were a movie, the scene would freeze with a close-up on our perplexed expressions, and then pan out to a wide angle shot of the large-but-not-enormous pool, and then pan out further to show the construction site blocking the view of the ocean. The heavy overcast sky, the half-built concrete building, the swinging cranes, the churning sea – all colored gloomy gray – contributed to our sense of deflation.
For about a minute.
Then we had to face reality: We were not where we thought we were. And that sent Nancy and me into hysterics. Tony and I have lived in six countries and worked abroad for the last 17 years. Nancy has three passports and spent four years in India. We are not novice travelers. But this was a ridiculous, rookie travel-fail. And we couldn’t stop laughing. Seriously, for three days. Every time we passed the moderately-sized pool, we would crack up again. “How could we be so stupid?” we would titter.
The evening of our arrival, we drove around town looking for an open restaurant. No luck. We finally found a tiny take-away window (literally a hole in the wall), where we ordered chorillanas, a traditional Chilean dish of french fries, smothered in beef cubes and onions, with fried eggs on top. It was pretty greasy and delicious. However, we stressed a bit that we would have no other dining options during our visit.
Anyway, once we got over the realization that we had intended to go here (Alfonso del Mar) …
…but had actually gone here (Papudo),
we reminded ourselves that it’s about the journey, not the destination.
The next morning was Tony’s birthday. He opened his present from me first thing: un sobrero de huaso! This is the traditional hat worn by Chile’s huasos – cowboys – and even some city slickers. It’s not just a prop. You see it everywhere. Nancy gave him a bottle of Bailey’s and a special glass. He was pretty stoked.
After a leisurely breakfast, we looked out the window at the drizzly weather and gave up on playing at the beach. Instead, Nancy and I decided to find a supermarket. We drove about half an hour south till we reached the town of Zapallar, while Tony hunkered down to grade papers at the apartment.
Nancy and I parked at a strip mall that had a huge ferreteria. I have seen the name before but never stopped to find out what it was. Of course, I really wanted it to be a sprawling pet store devoted to ferrets. I pictured them scampering around on carpeted towers and rolling across the room in extra-large hamster balls. Alas, as my trusty SpanishDict app confirmed, “ferreteria” means “hardware store.” So that was disappointing. It was basically a Home Depot. The supermarket was right next door. We stocked up on wine and snacks, bought a few empanadas for lunch, and headed back to our home away from home.
Lounging around the apartment was nice, but we could do that anywhere. We finally dragged our lazy booties out to explore. We walked through the compound to a gate that opened to the beach. Who knew? (To be fair, the apartment’s owner had actually told us a few details about the place, but the information didn’t stick.) The sky remained gray and dreary, so we all felt sluggish. We walked along a nice waterfront path, found a few promising restaurants, enjoyed the view of massive pelicans floating just a few feet above the waves, and then wandered home to get some work done. Unfortunately, Tony’s birthday always falls right when we have to write our report card comments for the end of the semester.
Later, the clouds burned off and the sky turned cerulean blue, so we wandered out again, energized by the warm sun.
For dinner, we easily found a waterside table as the only other people eating at 7:30 p.m. were families with small children. Back at the casa, we sang “Happy Birthday” to Tony. Unbeknownst to me, the birthday candles I picked up at the supermarket were those “magic” ones that keep reigniting. That’s funny when you’re 10, but kind of annoying when you’re 52 and just want to eat your cake and ice cream.
The next day, we strolled along the sandy beach, waded in the chilly Pacific water, climbed on the rocks, and soaked up the seaside sounds and smells. There was no avoiding grading and writing report card comments, but we found it’s not so bad when you can reward yourself with occasional beachside breaks.
The rocks offered dramatic testimony to the forces of nature that sculpted this coastline.
I could poke around tide pools all day.
Warm sand between my toes, sitting with my sweetie on a weathered rock, watching waves blast into the boulders. I just wish I could bottle this feeling.
After a Thanksgiving dinner with friends at a high-rise apartment rooftop, we left the big city behind for a weekend in the Patagonian Rainforest. We spent a few days frolicking in the forest like wood sprites or hobbits. And our hotel provided the perfect backdrop for this fantasy.
I traveled with Sam and Hillary (the Thanksgiving dinner hosts) and Nancy. We stayed in the Huilo Huilo Biological Reserve at the Nothofagus Hotel, named for the indigenous trees of the region (one of which soars up through the middle of the hotel itself). We stepped into the hotel and immediately felt transported to a fairy village, complete with confusing passageways and random staircases, a spiraling path from the ground-level restaurant to the rooftop viewing area with a waterfall at the center, rough-hewn beams and unfinished logs comprising the railings and other foundational structures, and views out every window revealing ponds, trees and other greenery, twisted man-made paths, and quirky sculptures and fountains.
It was really impossible to capture the weird wonderful whimsy of this place.
After wandering down long hallways, up and down stairs, and in and out of mysterious doorways, we stumbled upon the pool, which brought us great joy, especially because the lovely staff served us champagne while we soaked in the hot tub.
The only drawback was a lack of restaurants. The hotel’s buffet was pricey with no à la carte options, and the brewery across the road served only pizza. Still, we survived.
Walking to the brewery.
This made me giggle in the brewery bathroom.
The privately owned nature reserve spans about 300,000 acres. While Chile has a dearth of exciting wildlife, thanks to its isolation on the planet (mountains … ocean … you know how that goes), Huilo Huilo is home to the endangered Darwin’s frog (we saw one!) and other special species, such as the tiny pudu deer and the marsupial monito del monte (neither of which we were fortunate enough to spot). Huilo Huilo has put a great deal of effort into the conservation of the huemal deer. Researchers are raising the deer in captivity and gradually releasing them back into the wild. We visited a viewing area to see them.
The area around our hotel featured many trails that were clearly marked by this yellow bird.
I loved how this boardwalk was built around the trees.
Another hotel on the property is called Montaña Magica (Magic Mountain), a cone-shaped structure seemingly overgrown by the forest itself with a waterfall tumbling down between the windows.
These wacko webs looked like the spiders had been partying too hard the night before.
Later, the Cóndor Andino Cableway took us up the mountain to 3,829 feet above sea level for a spectacular view of the glacier-covered Mocho Choshuenco volcano. Back at the bottom, we visited the Museo de los Volcanes, an architecturally stunning museum housing a collection of indigenous items from the area.
The cableway station.
The museum had wonderful displays with English signage. I could have spent way more time there.
We also took a guided tour to a dormant volcano called Piedras Magneticas, named for the rocks that supposedly contain so much iron they confused the compasses of early explorers. Our guide, Rogelio, had a great eye and spotted the Darwin’s frog among the foliage. The most fascinating thing about this little frog is that the father scoops up the eggs and protects them in his vocal sac – that bubble you see under a frog’s chin – until the tadpoles develop. When the froglets are ready to survive on their own, daddy just spits them out. Crazy!
Darwin’s frog … so well camouflaged.
Rogelio also told us the names of many fascinating plants and birds, but of course I can’t remember anything, dang it! One highlight (nerd alert) was the Chilean hazelnut tree. I have been eating these yummy avellanas on my salads, but I had no idea what they were. It was cool to see the tree and to understand better where those nuts come from. We also saw a huge, beautiful tarantula, which Rogelio said was harmless. I wanted to pick it up, but he said we were scaring it.
We crossed this bridge to get to the island for our hike.
We climbed to the top of the volcanic island, and Rogelio showed us the route on a map.
The view from the top.
A baby hazlenut tree.
The friendly tarantula.
One night, we had a little dance party on the hotel roof at sunset.
Friends + nature + wine = happy intoxication.
One of my favorite events of the year in Santiago is MOVInight. Not MOVIE night. MOVI without an E. It stands for Movimiento de Viñateros Independientes, or the Movement of Independent Vintners, in English. Small Chilean wineries showcase their wares in a festive setting with music, food trucks, and a hip lively crowd. I wrote about last year’s event here. This year’s MOVInight took place on Nov. 10 in a different but equally fabulous venue. Unfortunately, I didn’t snap any photos worthy of posting. I did, however, sample a delicious rosé from a boutique winery called La Recova, and I knew I would have to pay that place a visit.
A month later, on Dec. 2, I hired a driver and piled into a van with four girlfriends – Nancy, Clare, Hillary, and Lisa – for the 2-hour drive to Casablanca Valley, one of Chile’s premier wine regions. Several mass-producing wineries line the highway – called Ruta del Vino, but La Recova hides off the main path, outside the village of Las Dichas (which translates to “good fortunes”). The small-scale winery produces its wines from a single variety, Sauvignon Blanc.
We were woefully underdressed for the chilly temperatures (except for Clare, who kept pulling layers of clothing out of her bag like Mary Poppins). Nevertheless, we kicked off our tour outside with a glass of rosé, made from La Recova’s Sauvignon Blanc grapes mixed with Syrah skins. Overlooking hectares of vines that crawled down the hillside and back up surrounding slopes, we learned about the vineyard and its unique wine from a friendly and patient guide named George.
Fat fragrant roses framed the scene, perfectly matched to the wine (and my cardigan).
George led us into the rows of grape vines, where he showed us some Sauvignon Blanc baby grapes.
From there, we walked to the roof of a small building, where grapes are fed into tanks below. George lifted a cover so we could see the cloudy soup that would eventually become wine. On ground level, he let us each tap the tank to try a sample.
By then, we were all a bit tipsy and getting peckish. Fortunately, it was time for lunch! We climbed the steps to a hilltop terrace, where we were greeted by Chef Ivan Parra and his assistant, Fernanda. We sat at a table with more cutlery than I knew how to use, and George rustled up some blankets for us. I wish I had done a better job of recording what we ate and drank.
We started with bread and pebre, a typical Chilean salsa. Chef Ivan also brought out a pebre made with a popular kind of seaweed. I think we drank Sauvignon Blanc with that course. Next, we had this … I have no idea what they were, other than tasty chunks of meat. It’s possible we drank one of the two varieties of rosé at that time.
The next course was … hmmm, I think it was a twist on ceviche with a quinoa cake, plus a different rosé, if memory serves.
A gourmet version of the Chilean chorillana came next, paired with the winery’s Merlot-Cabernet Sauvignon blend.
Finally, a lovely maracuya sherbet satisfied our sweet tooth … with more wine, of course.
La Recova was the perfect place to recharge our batteries. I look forward to another visit, and I’ll dress appropriately next time!
For our last full day in San Pedro, I think we chose the absolutely most fantastic thing to do: soak in some natural hot springs.
Our driver, Oscar, picked us up at 2 p.m. for the 34-kilometer bone-rattling drive to Termas de Puritama. Once we arrived and paid the entrance fee, he tried to explain some of the bathing protocols, but most of it was lost in translation. Oscar waited with the van at the top of the ravine, and we walked down the steep path to the springs.
The name Puritama means “hot water” in the indigenous Kunza language. The water’s temperature ranges from 25°-33°C or 77-91°F, cooling off as it flows downhill.
The water spilled from pool to pool, creating entertaining waterfalls and occasionally strong currents. Raised boardwalks connected the eight pools and branched off to restrooms, changing rooms, and a covered picnic space. I later learned the site is maintained by the Explora company.
This place was a gajillion times better than I could have anticipated. Although quite busy, the pools never felt uncomfortably crowded, and everyone seemed thrilled to be there. Big smiles all around. The positive energy was infectious.
View from the top.
Tony and I reached the parking lot first at the end of our visit. I tried to chat in Spanish with Oscar, the driver. Turns out he was a big fan of Ray Charles, the Beatles, Elvis, the Four Seasons, and other stars of the oldies stations. He played some of his favorites during the ride, and we sang the whole way home.
Back in San Pedro, we went out for our last dinner in Atacama. Nancy and Jim ordered this giant pile of meat, and we shared a pitcher of terremotos, a traditional Dieciocho drink made from pipeño wine and pineapple ice cream.
At 4:30 a.m., I drowsily sipped a cup of coffee and hoped today’s attraction – the world’s highest geyser field – would be worth the sleep deprivation. It did not disappoint.
When our group tumbled out of the bus at 4,300 meters (14,100 feet) above sea level, the sun remained tucked behind the surrounding mountains and we were grateful for our long underwear and wooly hats. Our guide, Felipe, warned us not to wander too close to the steamy plumes and hissing puddles, noting that two tourists had lost their lives in the scalding water.
He pointed out a nearby mountain, which resembled the profile of an old man looking up to the sky, and told us indigenous people named this area “grandfather who cries.”
The geysers and fumaroles form when cold water comes in contact with hot rocks deep below the earth’s crust. The pressure blasts hot water up through underground conduits to erupt at the surface, up to 10 meters (about 33 feet) high. Early morning chilly temperatures ensure the most dramatic billowy reactions as the 80+°F water bursts out to hit the icy air.
I had never seen a geyser in person before, so the ethereal landscape felt particularly special. As the sun rose, the sky turned from grey to cerulean. Bright sunlight illuminated the green and rust colors of the mineral formations and created silhouettes of the tourists against a backdrop of vertical clouds.
The gurgling, whistling, bubbling, whooshing sounds further contributed to a surreal, magical experience.
I asked whether anyone had ever tried to tap the geothermal energy here, and Felipe said that was a touchy issue. Many locals have been protesting the government’s quest for geothermal power since a 2009 blowout during the testing of an old geothermal power well, he said.
According to Wikipedia (and confirmed on several other websites),
In September 2009, a failed prospecting drill for geothermal exploitation in the (1960’s) Nº 10 well near the El Tatio area, by the Geotérmica del Norte consortium – formed by the Chilean state owned ENAP and Codelco Mining companies in association with Italian state owned ENEL – caused a 60-meter high artificial fumarole to develop, with the company unable to seal it for several weeks. The eruption of the fumarole was followed by strong subterranean noises, and a notable decrease of all but the most active geysers in the area.
A 2015 article by the Inter Press Service News Agency quotes indigenous people, who have mixed feelings about geothermal power exploration.
The Alto El Loa Indigenous Peoples Council got ENAP and ENEL to sign a series of agreements for the implementation of social development projects in the local communities in compensation for the impact of the geothermal project, and especially the power line.
For the inhabitants of Alto El Loa, scattered in remote areas in the Atacama desert, if the project is sustainable and benefits their communities, it will be a positive thing. But they say they are concerned that their way of life may not be respected.
“I would like to see more help, and if this is a good thing, then it’s welcome,” Luisa Terán, a member of the Atacameño indigenous group from the village of Caspana, told IPS. “Sometimes we feel a bit neglected and isolated.
“But it has to come with respect for our traditions, and it is our elders who are demanding that most strongly,” she added.
Others, however, reject the project as “anti-natural” and “violent” towards the local habitat.
“If you hurt the earth, she will in one way or another get back at you,” tourist guide Víctor Arque, of San Pedro de Atacama, a highlands village 290 km from Ollagüe, told IPS. “It can’t be possible to drill kilometres below ground without something happening.”
For now, the project is on hold, and more than 100,000 visitors each year can enjoy the sights and sounds of El Tatio geyers like we did.
On our way back down the mountain, we stopped at the tiny Andean village of Machuca. About 20 houses built of adobe and straw line a path leading to stairs up the hill to a small church. An LA Times article says the families of Machuca subsisted on terraced farming for generations, but the climate has become too dry. Today, residents raise llamas and barbecue them on skewers – a treat known as anticucho – to sell to the tourists traveling between the geysers and San Pedro.
We had booked an afternoon of salt lake swimming in Laguna Cejar, but Tony and I spent the afternoon reading on the hotel terrace instead. After traveling to Jordan in 2014 and swimming in the Dead Sea, we felt like, “been there, done that.”
Craig went but only waded. Nancy and Jim said they had a great time thrashing about in the lake.
Our Atacama adventure continued on Tuesday with a full-day of high-altitude happiness. Craig opted out, but the rest of us piled into a van with a few other tourists at the crack of dawn for the journey up to 4,400 meters (14,435 feet).
Our driver, whose name I have regrettably forgotten, was extremely enthusiastic and knowledgable, and he spoke clearly and slowly so I could understand quite a bit of his Spanish. Good thing because the guy who tagged along as our English interpreter was sweet and friendly but unfortunately didn’t actually speak English. For example, here’s the explanation of how the salt lagoons formed:
At one point, we pulled off the road for a photo shoot. I ate some Altiplana snow; couldn’t resist. God only knows how long it had been there.
The driver pointed out vicuñas as we bounced along the mountain roads. I can’t tell a llama from a guanaco; they are all adorable. Vicuñas are protected in Chile, but poachers herd them across the border to Bolivia, where it’s legal to kill them for their meat and wool.
At our first destination, Piedras Rojas – or Red Rocks, we strolled around the smooth-sculpted terracotta-colored rocks and marveled at the snow-capped Aguas Calientes volcano reflected in the glassy aquamarine lagoon.
From there, we drove to a small village and crowded into a tiny restaurant (or someone’s home?) patriotically decked out for Dieciocho.
Sitting in plastic chairs, we clasped our mugs of steaming instant coffee while smiling ladies served up toast and scrambled eggs. The driver sat next to me, and I used all my Spanish to have a good chat with him. He introduced me to rica rica, a thorny shrub that grows in high altitude. Considered a medicinal herb, it can help with altitude sickness, cure tummy aches, strengthen your circulatory system, and provide many other health benefits, the driver told me.
I tried the rica rica tea at breakfast and found it very soothing. Back in San Pedro, I sampled some refreshing rica rica ice cream and even bought a branch of rica rica at the market (although I ultimately gave up on packing it to take home).
After breakfast, we hit the road again. We visited two more lagoons: Miscanti and Meñiques. Each lagoon sits at the foot of its namesake volcano, and together they cover almost 11,000 hectares. They are fed by an underground water supply and serve as breeding and nesting sites for many highland birds.
Laguna Miscanti
Laguna Meñiques
One more quick roadside photo shoot before heading back to the village for lunch… Jim’s awesome shot.
Lunch was soup, followed by a meat dish. When Nancy asked what the options were, our “interpreter” explained that she could have “meat or kitchen.”
Nancy: You mean chicken?
Interpreter: Yes, kitchen.
Nancy: You’re saying “kitchen,” but you mean “chicken,” right?
Interpreter: Yes, kitchen.
We were dying. And this placemat didn’t do much to stifle our hysteria.
After lunch, we walked outside, and I looked up at the mountains. “Is that salt or snow up there?” I asked.
Interpreter: (quizzical look)
Me: Esta sal o nieve?
Interpreter: Nieve.
Me: Snow? But it’s so dry here.
Interpreter: Invierno …
Me: Winter?
Interpreter: Si, winter… before, no … after, no … because, no … verano …
Me: Summer?
Interpreter: Si.
Me: Ohhhhh…
Although most of our day had been spent exploring areas encompassed by the Reserva Nacional Los Flamencos, our next stop – the Laguna Chaxa Visitor Center in the Soncor Sector – put us face to face with those gorgeous pink birds.
The Convention on Wetlands, called the Ramsar Convention, is an intergovernmental treaty that provides the framework for national action and international cooperation for the conservation and wise use of wetlands and their resources. The Soncor Hydrological System is a Ramsar site that promotes the rational use of wetlands, primarily as a habitat for migratory aquatic birds. According to Ramsar, “Located in the catchment area of Salar de Atacama, this site is characteristic for presenting a crust of different types of salts, mainly chlorides and sulphates. There is also a hydrological system conformed by a series of superficial channels and lagoons, that together constitute a perfect habitat for waterfowl, many of which are endangered such as the three High Andean flamingo species …”
Here are the three flamingo species found at Laguna Chaxa (from the website BioExpedition). I’m newly obsessed. I started to post an obscene amount of information about flamingos, but you can click the links to read more about them.
The Visitor Center offers an interpretive trail through the bizarre crunchy crusty salt flat, which includes four lagoons full of life forms adapted to highly saline conditions. The micro-algae, brine shrimp, copepods, and daphnias serve as food for flamingos and other water birds. The pigmented algae is believed to be the source of flamingos’ rosy hue.
On our way back to San Pedro, we stopped at the village of Toconao, mostly so everyone could get some ice cream. The traditional Andean town is known for its houses constructed from a light-colored volcanic stone called liparita. The church, Iglesia de San Lucas, and its separate bell tower date from 1750.
Whew! That was a long, incredible day! Off to bed to dream about flamingos and salt.
