Valparaiso!

In the overall plan for our trip we allocated the first week to Buenos Aires and the last week to Santiago. Sometime during the trip we realized that large cities are not what we enjoy visiting most. Since we had the flights from Calama to Santiago, and from Santiago back home already booked, we have looked at the map for a nearby alternative, and we found Valparaiso.
It is a port city about 100 km from Santiago, recommended by fellow travelers who visited it. The name Valparaiso brought back memories of books I read in my youth about 19-th century adventurers who ended up there. So there we went.
Arriving by bus at night, we were greeted by this view. The city is built on a series of steep hills surrounding the bay where the port is.
In daylight you can see the wild variety of building styles and colours I fell in love with.

Our little hostel is near the top of Cerro Alegre, looking down into the port. Half way down there are stairs, so cars cannot go up and down the street, which suited us fine.

The hills are separated by deep  ravines, and each hill developed its own character. Some are more picturesque and welcoming to tourists, other grungier and presented to us as no-go zones. Almost all businesses are in the narrow flat coastal strip by the ocean, and the hilltops have only small stores, cafes and restaurants.
The old 'ascensores' can take you up and down the steepest slopes.

In the ascensor ...

... and looking down

As we have found out in BA, a good way to get introduced to a city and its history is to take a guided walking tour. We joined a tour offered by "Tours for tips" with Sidney, who we found by her Wally shirt, guiding her first solo tour supervised by Ben.












We were not dis disappointed by the 3-hour walk which included picturesque sites, history, anecdotes, local cookies (mendocinos) offered by the baker from his house, and a pisco sour for a goodbye.

A view from Neruda's home-museum

On the way to the tour we visited La Sebastiana, a museum for the poet Pablo Neruda, a Nobel laureate, in a house he lived in and decorated in his quirky taste. Some of his poems were on display, and I found them approachable and deep. Recommended.
Valparaiso is definitely a city to discover by walking. Because of its topography it feels like a series of small towns, and walking up and down the hills you are never bored as you discover many little gems and learn to appreciate the contrasts resulting from its checkered history. Its boom times were in mid-19th century, where it served as a major transit port during the California gold rush, and many European immigrants settled here. The good times were shaken by major earthquakes, and ended with the opening of the Panama canal, which dramatically shortened the way from Europe to the West Coast. Today it's the second largest port of Chile and a major stopping point for cruise ships.

Perhaps the most visually unique are the many murals decorating the houses, walls, even roofs - any paintable surface. They combine art, beauty, ideas, originality and hard work, mostly by volunteers. They are also an expressions of the love that the locals and also visiting artists feel for the city, as we were told by artists we watched working:



Here is a small gallery of murals we came across walking around Valparaiso. BTW, you can magnify the pictures by clicking on them.

These are actually mosaics

The most impressive murals were on the hill called Polanco, a poor neighborhood that we were instructed to visit, if we have to, only in the morning, when the muggers are not up yet. We went there with trepidation and discovered a mostly slum-like area turned into a big outdoor gallery. We've been told that it started with an international mural competition, with the intention of giving Polanco a new life. Apparently it started turning it around, as we were told by an expat American we met in the elevator going up the hill. It turned out later that this was the same guy we have corresponded with earlier in the week through Tours for Tips and who helped us in finding the hostel in Santiago. Small world.

A series of cats and dogs ...

Can you find the second cat?

Below, at the door of our hostel, Julia the hostess with the dog that appeared there one day and never left.

Two segments of an amazing mural near our hostel that we could watch being painted day and night by volunteer artists from different countries. We saw it all the way from an outline to an almost-finished masterpiece.

For our last night in this enchanted city we went to a nice restaurant with a great view on the city, the port and the sunset. We raised a glass of pisco sour to say goodbye, and stayed until dark to watch the sunset - see pictures below.

A view just before sunset ...











.. and a little after ...

Addendum (guess by who): Valparaiso- A Jogger´s Perspective

After spending 10 days at dizzyingly high latitudes and where any activity stirred hideous dust bowls, Valparaiso is a runner´s paradise.  The early town grew just fine as there was enough flat space between the sea and its surrounding 42 cerros or hills. But with the boom in the 1850´s, the city started to creep up the hills and it hasn´t stopped. These are not Mount Royal-type hills but steep, black double-diamond runs that go straight up for a kilometer or two.  Some cars are forced to negotiate these precipitous climbs by zigzagging their way up these narrow inclines. Interestingly, the roads are so steep that, unlike most other cities, the neighbourhoods steadily deteriorate as you get higher. No Westmount summits here!

My favourite road started with expensive Musee-type townhouses at the bottom.  As I got higher, the smells got more pungent, the houses more dilapidated, and the dogs angrier. The road turned from smooth asphalt, to rocks and then dirt near the top. Groups of animated young men, drinking from oversized beer bottles, congregated at near the summit, even at 7:30 in the morning. Pigs and chickens roamed aimlessly among the crowd.

Jogging was a wonderful challenge. Going up, I had to land on my toes otherwise I would be catapulted backwards. Going down was even more terrifying as I persistently had to fight gravity which very much wanted to launch me down the road in one terrifying blast. And, of course, the locals waved and laughed thinking I was crazy. Am I?