The fist thing you notice from the airplane when you approach Santiago is the Andes Mountains sticking up like a jagged edge all along the spine of this this country, creating one of the most beautiful backdrops of a city I've seen since Cape Town. But Santiago was not my destination, only a transfer stop en route to the quaint UNESCO world heritage site of the Historic Quarter of the Seaport Village of Valparaiso.
My heart was heavy as I rode the bus out of Santiago, partially because I was exhausted because I put my big bag on the bus and then missed that bus and had to run after it and still missed it and then had to run back to the bus stop and explain in broken spanish that my bag was on that bus, much confusion and hand signaling ensued. But my heart was also heavy because I knew that I only had three more days before my wonderful journey would come to an end. I forgot what I was thinking when I arrived in Valparaiso, possibly the most beautiful city I've been to in South America.
It has beautiful building adorning gorgeous squares that house elaborate statues. Trolly cars that looks like they came straight from the 60's bustling down the small cobblestone streets. A harbor front setting with big ships lining up to get into the port. The port that brought all of the wealth into Valparaiso and left behind hidden gems, one of which is the Ascensores, a series of two square meter funicular lift that ferry people up and down the steep cliffs slice into the heart of the city. To ride in one is an experience, not only for the historical value, but also for the thrill factor, it shakes so much it feels like it will snap at any time, and given it's 123 years old, it literally could.
Upon the exodus of the Ascensor I found myself in a charming artistic quarter. The cafe's are filled with avant guard art work hanging on the wall next door to designer boutiques. Small craft stalls line the small lookout point where one can see from the cemetery to the sea. A group of young artisans walked past walls adorned with stencil work describing politics or poets and I stopped to gaze at some apartments that were colorfully painted to the shades of the rainbow, the beautiful notes of a pianist drifted through the air from the music school next door.
I was befriended by some French people who were generous enough to offer me a spot in their rental car for a day trip around Valparaiso. It was strange to be inside a private car again, but fun to have control of the music. We enjoyed my fine selection of French tunes as we travelled through the countryside. We stopped off at an old whaling station museum near a beach with heaps of pelicans and learnt how to harpoon these beautiful creatures and how much dynamite you need to kill them. We passed by the house of Pablo Neruda and almost tasted some fine wine, but didn't.
As I farewell 92 days of the Children of the Sun and departed Valparaiso, the last stop on my grand trip to South America, I felt a little regret for not staying longer and visiting further. Sad that I never broke the borders of Ecuador, Columbia, Venesuala and the Guianas and never visited Angle Falls, the Amazon and Cayenne, but I've learnt over my travels that you can't do it all and considering the wonderful things I did see and the beautiful people I did meet I can not complain in the slightest.
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