After a few Pisco Sours in the driest desert on the planet.
Claudia and Crista waiting to get tattooed and pierced in Iquique, Chile.
Near Pucon, Chile
10/1/09 – 9:00 am. Tacna, Peru. Border Crossing. The plan is to cross into Chile via bus. The catch is there isn’t a direct bus route. Travelers must get dropped off in Tacna, Peru and then take a taxi through border patrol and on to the border town of Arica, Chile.
Hungry, we contemplate having lunch in Tacna, but take one look at the bus terminal and decide against it. We split a taxi with a British guy and a young American couple from Oregon. I`m no mathematician but 2 guys from Jersey + 1 British guy + 2 lovebirds + 1 disgruntled driver + 5 giant rucksacks = too much for one car.
An eager Peruvian man leads us through the bus terminal, past cautionary signs warning about ¨fake taxis,¨ out to the parking lot and stops at a midsized sedan. Three rucksacks fill the truck to capacity. A few of the drivers yell to each other and eventually they wave us over to a giant, boat of a car – a cream colored Cadillac straight out of the 80s. The mafia mobile easily stores all of the luggage in the trunk and is sufficiently comfortable for the hour ride to Arica. At border patrol Keating passes through customs with cocoa leaves, knives and a machete in his pack. Security doesn´t look twice.
Arica is a small costal, border town centered around one main street, 21 de Mayo, which can be toured in a matter of ten minutes. Arica, home to worldclass waves, is a surfer`s heaven. However, if you don`t surf there isn`t much else to do. You can hike up El Morro de Arica – if you risk passing dodgy dogs and don`t mind walking up a steep, sandy hill you will be rewarded with a beautiful view of the city, a giant Jesus statue and a military museum remembering the battle that took place there in 1880.
Despite the city`s lack of things to do, I still found it refreshing to have some nice weather. Keating and I had joked about how the weather would magically improve upon entering Chile, but, literally, it did.
We chat with the British fellow, Nick, on the taxi ride in and he seems cool enough so we all share a room at a hostel in Arica. The three of us spend the next few days exploring the small city, each night returning to the same hole in the wall restaurant. The food certainly wasn’t bringing us back – actually, we ordered the same dish every night but were surprised with a new meal each time. It was the tap beer – the cold, frothy golden goodness kept calling us. In Peru it is difficult to find a cold beverage. There are refrigerators, but they either aren’t running or they are on the warmest setting possible. To finally taste a large frosty mug of Schop was heaven.
I also loved the untouristy nature of Arica. Peru wore on me after a few weeks – nonstop begging annoys me. In a few short hours I was really enjoying Chile – happy people, nice weather, cold beer, drivers weren`t out to kill me.
The best part of Arica is the nightlife. There are two main discos – Drake`s and Soho – two neighboring oceanfront buildings that alternate nights they are open; a strategy that successfully packs everyone in town into one venue. We visited both, but have no idea which was which. We had heard people in South America start partying late, but we still were surprised. Here is a rough agenda of our first night out:
-1am: Arrive at club. The building is huge. Walk in and check out the first and second levels, both blasting reggaeton. A projector plasters giant music videos onto a wall that can be seen from both floors. The dance floor is empty.
-2am: People start arriving. The demographics range from 16 year old girls to 60 year old women and include everything in between. We try and buy drinks and almost fail. We first have to pay for drinks at a cash register, then redeem the coupon at the bar and order the drinks again.
-2:30am: (insert Nick`s legendary story)
-3am: Both levels are packed with people. Everyone is dancing – really well.
-3:15am: The music stops and the DJ clears people off the stage. Three girls enter stage left modeling clothes. They exit. One minute later the same three girls return wearing swimsuits. What the..?! There is a fashion show in the middle of the night, at a disco, with only three girls and six outfits?
-3:25am: The girls get off the stage. Dancing resumes as if nothing happened.
-4:00am: One of the models grabs me and introduces me to her Venezuelan friend who doesn`t speak a word of English. I dance with her. Broken glass and cigarette ash cover the floor.
-5:00am: I go look for Nick and Mike and we head out.
-5:45am: Convince taxi driver to take us on a beer run. He takes us to the ghetto. A man approaches the car with a 6pack.
-7am: Sleep.
From my experiences, the discos in Chile are nothing like the sleazy, meat market clubs in the US. The difference mainly being that fact people in South America love to dance, whereas the US scene relvoves around dugs, binge drinking and trying to pass off grinding as dancing. In Chile, everyone at the disco dances. In the US, there are usually a lot of creeps hovering around the dance floor.
We spend four or five days in Arica. A few sights worth noting.
*Keating and I are aimlessly wandering and pass a sign for a ¨Day & Night Club.¨ I can’t imagine who would hang out at place called the Day & Night Club at 2pm on a Tuesday. We excitedly speculate about the possibilities of who/what could be inside. That night we grab Nick and head over to the Day & Night Club. We pass through two doors and curtin before reaching the inside. The room is dark and narrow and lights flicker across the walls. Lonely men line one wall, slowly sipping their beers, gazing across at a stage with one of the largest women I have ever seen. Her outfit is a mix of lace, fishnet and neon green glitter. She isn`t even dancing. With a blank experssion, she shifts back and worth, sort of two stepping, sort of waddling. We can`t help but laugh at the ridiculousness of the situation. Nick asks if they have cold schop at the bar. They don`t and there is our excuse to leave.
*We also pass two lovestruck dogs ¨stuck¨ in the middle of the street, stopping traffic. Nick took a video, which I will have to get from him.
I recommend strolling down 21 de Mayo and stopping at Schopdogs for a ¨tower¨ of beer and people watching. As a bonus, they actually have healthy meals (avocado & grilled chicken salad) along with the usual fried goodies like empanadas, popcorn chicken and fries.
One of the best parts of travelling is not only meeting locals, but other travelers as well. I learned two great tips from Nick:
How to choose a hostel – it sounds simple, but just go with the lonely planet pick. If you don´t have a lonely planet, go to hostelworld.com and pick the hostel with the best rating. My point being – don`t let price dictate choice. Since it`s a hostel it is going to be cheap, comparative to the location of course. Now that I´ve been travelling for a few months I can say that the amount of fun I`ve had is usually directly tied to the environment of the hostel.
Nowhere is dangerous – this obviously isn`t true, but I appreciate Nick`s insight into travelling. He has been all over the world and currently lives in Dubia. Here is his logic: You arrive at a location, be it a new town, city, country. From there you take transportation to lodging, be it a hostel, hotel, friend`s house. From lodging you can easily find out the dangerous areas and thus neighborhoods to avoid. Also, you can always call a taxi for going to dinner or sight seeing if nearby areas are unsafe. I was skeptical at first, but now I completely agree. We discussed kidnappings and assaults, but he made a good point – There is enough hype and horror stories in the media to make you not want to leave your home, but the odds of being attacked or randomly kidnapped are slim to none.
The Northface gang hanging out at the top of the Morro de Arica.
Photo compliments of Nick. Check us out in the mirror.
Did I mention how safe it is in South America? Every bed comes with a machete!
Up Next: I Love IQQ!!!
It took three and a half months but Mike and I finally made it to Santiago, Chile. In a previous post I wrote about how the original plan was to go straight to Santiago after hiking Machu Picchu, but that plan obviously went out the window. A lot has happened in such a short time and I will be writing longer posts about how we got sidetracked in Iquique, a beach town in the north of Chile, and how we were forced to cross into Argentina to renew our tourist cards.
¨A journey is like marriage. The certain way to be wrong is to think you control it.¨
– John Steinbeck
In less than four months I´ve visited one of the seven wonders of the world, experienced a groundshaking 6.5 magnitude earthquake, hiked the driest desert on earth, toured majestic vistas with ominous names like Death Valley and Valley of the Moon, floated in a salt lake, ate guinea pig, surfed at some of the best breaks in the world, had dinner at 1 am, conversed for hours in a foreign language, learned the true spirit of Christmas and spent it sunbathing next to a pool, been kicked out of a party for being white, gone crabbing with my bare hands, watched the best sunset of my life, hiked mountain passes at 4,600 meters, touched a live monkey, hiked through jungle, picked up hitchhikers, ate the best steak of my life, been ripped off by police, toured wineries, drank malt beer with raw eggs for breakfast, learned how to whistle, been whistled at, been in a riot and swam with sea lions.
We´ve met a lot of people – many good, some assholes and a few truly great ones. Thus is life.
My thoughts after three months in South America:
-South America is much safer than I had imagined. I haven´t been mugged or had anything stolen and all of my organs are still intact.
-My trip isn´t unique. While staying at different hostels you meet many people who are doing the same trip as you – literally, the same route, destinations and attractions. Some are taking time off school, some are on vacation from work, some quit their jobs.
-Germans travel the most. Then people from Holland, Australia, England, Canada and Israel.
-Chileans are some of the proudest people I´ve ever met. Their police are known for being the only law enforcement in South America who cannot be bribed.
-Peruvians are the worst drivers. Period. (read more about them here)
-South America is a lot more expensive than I had imagined. At times, big cities in particular, it rivals the US for food, alcohol and clothes.
-The rules are much more relaxed – I rented a motorcycle without being asked for a license, insurance or deposit. I´ve drank booze in a cab, in a mall, in a supermarket, in a bus terminal, on a bus, on the beach, at a skatepark, you get the point.
-Life is different – South Americans don´t have the same competitive attitude ingrained in them like people do in the US. In Argentina people go to work at 10am, have lunch at 12, then siesta from 1pm until 5pm, then go back to work for a few hours. Suffice to say, their lives do not revolve around their careers. There are also subtle touches here and there that you wouldn´t find in the States. In Salta, Argentina I ordered only a coffee and with it came fresh squeezed orange juice, seltzer water and a plate of cookies. One dinner on an overnight bus included lamb and rice, pizza, a glass of wine, then coffee cognac. In the morning they woke us up with coffee, tea and breakfast. On the airplane down to South America I was charged $2 for a pair of headphones to watch the ¨free¨movie.
-It is possible to get by in South America for four months without knowing Spanish.
The trip has been amazing but it hasn´t always been easy. One night Mike and I were stranded outside a disco in the pouring rain for 3 hours, miles from town, sober and extremely annoyed, unable to get a cab. Then there was the day we went to the bus station, fighting nasty hangovers to learn that the next bus didn´t leave for 10 hours. When we tried to lay down in the bus terminal we were continuously inconvenienced by security guards. We then sat on hard wooden benches, upright, for the remainder of the day. I have had more food cravings than a pregnant woman only to be met with the same three food options day in and day out.
I should also probably add that Mike has had more physical ailments in South America than I´ve had in 24 years. He´s had bug bites, colds, headaches, bruises, scrapes, infections, fevers, stomach problems, and now has a toe that turns away as if it doesn´t want to be associated with others.
The best is yet to come. I have been looking forward to seeing Patagonia for months and now it is only a few weeks away. The game plan after New Years: From Santiago go to the Chilean beaches of Valparaiso/ Vina del Mar, then go down to Chilean Patagonia for photography, trekking, and general outdoorsy activities. Cross into Argentina Patagonia, head north to Buenos Aires, cut through Uruguay to Brazil, travel up the coast of Brazil then fly to Columbia. Sail to Panama and travel Central America or return to New Jersey.
The trip so far: Lima, Cuzco, Arequipa, Arica, Iquique, San Pedro, Salta, Cafayate, Tucuman, Catamarca, Cordoba, Mendoza, Santiago.
For everything, airfare from NJ to Peru, a flight from Lima to Cuzco, 11 bus tickes, tours, food, hostels, discos and drinks, I´ve spent close to $3,000. Not bad considering I would have spent more than that on rent, gas, food, alcohol, and junk I don´t need if I had been living in New Jersey for that time.
Longer, more detailed stories about the Iquique Vortex, Gypsy Halloween, Chilean Christmas and more are coming!
