The House of Pablo Neruda at Isla Negra

Isla Negra

It’s not an island exactly, but rather a seaside town, and a rather small and famous one at that, for it was where the poet and ambassador Pablo Neruda lived. The Nobel Prize winning poet’s home is now a museum and attracts visitors from all over the world. So popular are the tours of the inside of the house and the grounds that we had to wait an hour and a half. Rather than wait, we ate at a nearby cafe. I had a Churrasco Italiano with cafe con leche. It was essentially a roast beef sandwich dressed with avocado, mayonnaise and tomato and quite good though the meat had chewy veins of gristle. Coffee in Chile is generally not brewed and served instant. At this cafe, the waitress, who may also have made the food, brought out a glass jar of Nescafe, a coffee mug and a small spoon. About ten minutes later, she brought out a pewter pitcher of boiling milk that she poured into the mug over the spoonful and a half of instant coffee that I had put into my coffee mug. For instant coffee, it was surprisingly good, though I still prefer a Dunkin Donut medium with milk. My wife ordered the same sandwich and a bottle of Pap which is a very sweet “pineapple” flavored soda that has a golden peach chemical glow like Pine Sol.

Pablo Neruda’s House

The toured commenced at 4:30. The tour guide gave us all telephone devices that had the tour recorded in at least three languages, Spanish, Portuguese and English. Each exhibit or room in the house corresponded to a number that we pressed on the recorder that gave all the details.  Below are my observations and the bits of information I remembered from the automated tour:

Neruda bought the house in the 30’s from a friend and over the years had additions built.  From the outside, it is a long and modest stone structure that looks a bit like a castle.  On the inside, most of the rooms are made of beautifully finished wood, logs and stones with rustic furniture that give one a feeling of being in a cabin. And most of the rooms have windows with a stunning view of the Pacific Ocean.

Inside the rooms, Neruda had countless objects carefully displayed, some he acquired as a collector, but many, perhaps even most, were gifts from friends over the years including figurines, masks, wooden carvings, colored glass bottles, jugs, ships in a bottle, and seashells among other things.

He entertained quite frequently and was said to give press interviews inside the house in a room with a glass table built from a wagon wheel and giant stone mural that an artist friend built for him.  It was in this room that he received former President Salvador Allende and other friends and dignitaries. He was fond of and influenced by other writers and had framed photographs of some of them including Whitman, Doestoevsky, and Poe.

Neruda was said to have been attracted to Isla Negra because aspects of it reminded him of his childhood in the south of Chile and of his visits to the sea which play a prominent role in his poetry. Other inspirations for his poems include food and his wives (three in all) to whom he was quite devoted, particularly Matilde, his last wife with whom he is buried on the grounds.

 

The Earth Ends Here

If you really want to go down south for a beach vacation, try the seacoast towns of Chile between Mirasol and El Quisco including Isla Negra, where Pablo Neruda once lived, that form a stretch of the Pacific Coast about as far south as it gets. Far out kind of far south too. So far out that I am convinced the earth ends here. I don’t mean the end of the earth in a derogatory way necessarily, although there are aspects of the landscape and climate that are harsh such that the locals indubitably lead a hardscrabble life. And I don’t mean end of the earth literally as if our fair planet were flat and something like only 200 years old. I am not a science denier but of course don’t deny that there are many who do. And as proper as these beaches are in their own right, they are somewhat otherworldly. One beach at Punta Altraca has capital ocean waves with sharp rocks and a beach, but one without sand, or so it seemed – rocky, but finely ground rocks, not quite sand, granulated – the texture of instant Nescafe.
We saw the sunset on Canelillo Beach which sits below a steep hill near Algarobbo where we are staying. The roaring ocean waves slap razor sharp black rocks.  The impressive breakers create violent splashes.  Hardscrabble cactus patches grow on the side of the hill going down to the beach. Groves of barbed wire protected cactus flourish and rot in the same lot. Precious pine trees and other species stripped of bark stand tall. This is where the earth ends.

The End of the Earth

South America Travelogue – Montevideo

Santiago Day 3

We were in Santiago for 3 days and actually did not see much of the cordillera because we stayed in Lo Valle Campino, a hillside community near the airport, no Andes in sight, obscured by hills and smog. Nena took us to El Centro which I guess translates to downtown where we met up with my niece Nati and her boyfriend Andres to watch Chile vs. Holland. Fanaticos were out in force ready for a grand celebration that never happened as the Orange clad Dutchmen lead by striker Robben outplayed the scrappy Chilean squad.

Downtown Santiago is a linear collection of buildings and shops for miles and miles. It has a little bit of a NYC feel without all the tall buildings and the sense of neighborhood. It felt like a giant outdoor shopping mall.

Graffiti is in abundant supply and some curious and colorful murals adorn city walls and subway structures, some of it good, some not; some sanctioned, some clearly not.

Our gracious Santiago hosts, Milton and Nena, made us feel at home in their tidy house with a living room constructed of pine wood adorned with local art. In addition to good conversation and cheer, we ate well. Nena served up Cazuela, a typical Chilean soup made with a clear broth, squash, beef, corn, potatoes, peas and green beans cut french style with pebre (a hot sauce) and fresh cut cilantro to sprinkle on top. She also served fish soup, fillet of reineta (a local fish) and Pastel De Choclo, a distinctive corn-based casserole. Wine poured a plenty, all local reds and whites. My favorite was the sweet late Harvest Riesling that had just the right balance of sweetness and acidity.

Montevideo, Days 1-2

From Santiago, we took a short flight to Montevideo and then a local bus from the Carrasco International airport to the city. We got off at our stop dragging our heavy bags, the heaviest weighing over 22 kilos, an oversized LL Bean bag. As we looked around for another bus to take to our friend’s apartment, we crossed a busy intersection, bags rolling behind us and I tripped over the bulky LL Bean bag my wife was dragging in front of me, getting good height and landing on my stomach atop my own bag, which served as sort of an air bag. Fortunately, I didn’t break any bones and only scrapped the bottom of my left hand that I used to help break my fall. The hand burned for a bit but seemed fine. When we finally got to the apartment, I noticed it was bleeding. I rinsed it off and applied a triple anti-biotic ointment I had brought along just in case. My youngest daughter, who witnessed the fall, could not stop laughing, to the point that she drew tears and a hiccup. I was not amused at the time. There were many locals standing around who also saw my tumbling act and god only knows what they must have thought of the strange gringo doing odd acrobatics with an orange bag.

If you know Spanish well, you will immediately notice that the Uruguayan accent is distinct. It’s hard to describe, but it has a sibilant quality, a sort of airy lisp that is pleasant to the ear, or at least to my ear. The people seem nice and accommodating thus far, although my wife had a bad encounter at La Chacra supermarket. All seemed fine at first. When we entered the store just as the sun set, a radio station was playing the song “Southern Nights”. The workers seemed friendly enough giving us recommendations on pasta, red sauce and the butcher prepared us a good cut of beef (lomo) that is popular in the country.  Uruguay is a meat eating place if ever there was one. And not surprisingly, beef is its major export.  But trouble began when my wife tried to buy the groceries unwittingly with my daughter’s debit card and her own ID. Obviously, the names didn’t match and they gave her a hard time about it. Ultimately, I had to pay with my debit card using my ID which matched. My wife asked the cashier to double bag some things but the cashier threw the bags at her in a huff and told her to “do it yourself”. True story. On a side note, I bought a combination corkscrew that cost 85 pesos or about $3.7 U.S. which turns out we didn’t need because there where 3 just like it in the kitchen drawer of our apartment.

We bought two 960 ml bottles of beer, one called Patricia, a hoppy and light lager, and a Pilsen Especial, which truthfully was not very special. The Patricia cost 57 pesos, ($2.49) and the Pilsen, 62 ($2.70). I doubt the locals drink these forgettable examples of Uruguayan swill. Being a local now for the next 7 days, I won’t be drinking the stuff either, well at least not the Pilsen.

The Internet here is interesting. For one, the government issues every resident, from what I can gather, equipment to enable free Wi-Fi – “Automatic for the People”. Our friend’s apartment has a modem/router with this free Internet but as we found out, it’s good for only 1 gigabyte of data per month which is little more than a few Google searches, 10 minutes of a movie on Netflix and about 4 photos uploaded and posted on Facebook. So, being the nice guests that we are, we used up her data plan as soon as we got on the Internet. After much bureaucratic maneuvering, several phone calls and a visit to the government owned Antel office, we, or more accurately, my eldest daughter  managed to “recharge” the 1 GB of data that we used for about 200 pesos ($10) and now we hope this gets us through our week. We pledged not to stream any movies or videos and only to check and send emails de vez en cuando.

We ventured downtown by bus (which is about the only mode of public transportation), got some maps of the city, headed to the Plaza de Independencia, to see the green statue of founding father Artigas, had an early dinner at the Cafe Brasilero that had free Wi-Fi, sent some emails, watched a World Cup match – Ecuador v. France, bought some beer and wine, which I am now sipping, the wine that is, a Uruguayan Gewurztraminer which cost about $8.60, that is, to be frank, slightly syrupy, not unlike a Viogner, and leaves a sweet and unpleasant medicinal cough drop like aftertaste. This recommended wine is unbalanced, but drinkable.

The tourist information clerks said that Uruguay is known for meat and in particular, the Chivito sandwich, a carnivorous delight and what I ordered from the Chilean waiter at the Cafe Brasilero in an area of town called the Old City near Plaza Matriz. This cafe has been around since 1877 and sports antique chairs and tables, brass chandeliers and a big screen TV for world cup enthusiasts. It seems to be a good place to chill, get connected, have a bite and a Cortado, (the local version of a latte) which we did, or a drink, which we did not. The Chivito consists of bacon, ham, beef, tomato and lettuce served open-faced on toasted bread topped with a sunny side up egg surrounded by lettuce and fresh cut french fries, all for 230 pesos or about $10.

We walked a lot on our first day in the city. My pedometer had me at over 14,719 steps or 6.9 miles, which is the farthest I’ve walked by far since I began using the app on my phone back in October.

Buses spew diesel fumes, and generally foul the air. Hybrid buses have not yet come to this big city nor has a subway system. Though we are not too far from Buenos Aires, the air is anything but good. And to make matters worse, everyone seems to smoke, and not just cigarettes, but weed too which is legal here.  With the air thick with toxins, and the population dieting largely on red meat, it’s a wonder the lifespan here is 76 years old.  Maybe I’m exaggerating, but it seems that most people are dressed in black. I’m not sure if this is just tradition for this time of year, which is the beginning of winter, or maybe it’s simply a fashion statement. People seem happy enough, but dress, ironically, as if going to a funeral.

All South American Final

I was rooting for Chile against Brazil, and thought they might have a chance.  Brazil had shown some vulnerabilities in the tournament.  In the last game of first round action in Group G, Portugal played them to a scoreless tie.  A scoreless tie!  But against Chile, Brasil looked invincible, like a team out to show the world that they are the ones to beat.  Posting a 3-0 win against a tough and talented Chilean team, Brasil looks ready to take on the Dutch and the world.  But they just might not have to take on the world if things roll a certain way.  They may only have to take on their neighbor, Argentina in an all South American final.  I’d like very much to see that happen.

Chile Has Home “Cancha” Advantage

Chile will easily defeat Switzerland in Group H play today in the city of Port Elizabeth, South Africa.  This may seem like a relatively safe pick.  Chile had something like a 40:1  chance of winning the World Cup according to Ladbrokes going into the tournament; Switzerland 150:1.  Latin American teams have dominated so far with a 67% winning percentage compared to 35% for European teams.  But hold on.  The Alpine nation defeated the team favored to win the tournament – Spain.  Chile on the other hand, bested lightly regarded Honduras, a team least likely to win the Cup.  Switzerland has the momentum, but Chile has the X factor:  LATITUDE.

Did you know that Port Elizabeth, the host city of today’s match, has the same latitude as Santiago, Chile – 33º?  Chile is accustomed to playing in southerly climes and therefore has the home court, the home “cancha”, the home pitch, the home field advantage.  Vamos Chile!

Chile Travelogue Entry 1

Chile.  It’s nice here.  Hot – 85F, 29C.  Dry heat though.  Not as much smog as I had anticipated in Santiago. Summer in December.  Strange concept, but I could get used this.  I’m tired of snow and being wet and cold all the time.  If you’re not a skier, and I am not, (though I’ve water skied a few times) winter in the Northeast gets old fast.

Chile.  I have high expectations for this country.  All the Chileans I know from the States told me that I would be impressed by the beauty and modernity of the country.  And indeed I am impressed. European styled architecture, friendly people, with a clean and efficient Metro, my friends said I’d feel right at home and I do. They told me for shopping, there’s the Mall and a Pizza Hut and McDonald’s, in case I get tired of the local fare.  I can do without all this, and was a little taken aback to see all the fast food joints spoiling the landscape.  You have to drive a little ways out to see what the country is most known for (political history aside) – wine.  Ocean on one side, Andes on the other and vineyards in between.  There are literally hundreds of vineyards South of Santiago- from the huge Concha y Toro operation, to the valleys of Maipo, Curico and Maule all within a days drive of the capital.  Driving in Chile though is an adventure, so be warned.  More on driving later.

The Metro is clean and efficient as advertised.  Hecho in France.  Inside, the trains are crowded and can be suffocatingly hot – no AC, no fans, but the windows stay open, and generally provide adequate ventilation.

My wife has a big extended family in Chile.  I think they all greeted us at the airport.  Chileans kiss a lot. Trying to go with the flow, I gave and received about 50 kisses from family and friends I had never met, but they all seemed to know me.  A cousin of my wife said in Spanish “you looked a lot bigger in the picture.”  It didn’t seem like a compliment, but she kissed me just the same.  The kids all refer to me as Tio.

My wife’s brother drove us home in a roomy Chevy Luv, (pronounced – lewve).

On our first day out, we visited Cerro San Cristobal, Saint Christopher’s Hill in the Parque Metropolitano. We climbed the hill and about 500 steps to see the main attraction, the monument to the Virgen de la Inmaculada Concepcion.  The immense statue is about 45 feet high and rests atop the hill which reveals a stunning panoramic view of Santiago.  Inside the base of the statue, protected by an iron gate, is Jesus on the cross.  My five year old daughter, clearly moved by Christ’s suffering said, “Jesus is bleeding, Jesus is bleeding, oh!”  We gave a donation through a slot at the side of the gate.  A sign near the monument in Spanish says “the Virgin Mary will show you the path to God.”

As my daughter looked out over the city, she said:  “I think I see Boston, Papi, look, Boston!”

Santiago, Chile

The Andes, bold as Everest

Encircle the sprawling city

The sterile French made Metro

Deposits to all parts

Lo Vial to Quinta Normal

Dos en Uno

No need to rush

Mote con huesillos

Everywhere you go

Mote con huesillos

Gracias pero no

Darkness sets in

La Cordillera erased