The Van of Valpo & Pussy Terror

After our two-month cycling trip through Patagonia in early 2016, El Mecánico and I spent six weeks living in Valparaíso. Though two years have since passed, it's time to tell you about The Van of Valpo & Pussy Terror.

During our weeks in Valparaíso, El Mecánico and I settled into a wonderful routine. In the mornings, we worked independently on our own projects. In the afternoons, we meandered together through the Chilean city's tangled cobblestone streets, staircases, and alleys.

Valparaíso's homes and buildings, cloaked in a patchwork quilt of colors and adorned with eye-inticing murals, are the epicenter of the city's Bohemian culture. As we walked through the city, we searched every wall and nook'n'cranny for our favorite murals. Our mutual awe of the city's abundant effervescence inspired a unique, creative energy between me and El Mecánico. (See Valparaíso: Murals #1 and Valparaíso: Murals #2 for photographs of our favorite murals.)

On one of our afternoon strolls, we came across a van whose windows were painted an opaque white. The van was parked at the base of a dense thicket of morning glories, reaching a hundred feet into the sky. A painting on the port of the van depicted the back side of a man in a horizontal position, his head resting atop a pillow. Along the top of the van were the words "Pussy Terror."

The notorious Van of Valpo.

What did it mean? Was the man sleeping? Was he dead? Why was there a gold crown floating inches above the man's head? What was "Pussy Terror"?

Reflections on My Patagonia Trip

My trip to Patagonia ended seven weeks ago. As with all my travels, I have spent time reflecting on the trip.

In Reflections on My Turkey Trip: What I Learned About Myself, I compared life experiences to the tiles in a mosaic. Just as tiles are combined to create a unique picture or pattern, our experiences combine to create a mosaic of our unique selves. And just as a mosaic becomes clearer with a greater density of tiles, our true selves become more apparent as we acquire more life experiences.

The individual tiles in this mosaic are photos from the Patagonia trip.
You may wish to enlarge the image to fully appreciate the mosaic.

The Patagonia trip added more and more tiles to the mosaic of my life. Though some of these experiences confirmed what I already knew, others revealed new insights about Patagonia, Chile, and myself.

More Patagonia Photos

We've been back from Chile for a few weeks now. I've been silent on the blog front because I've been crazy-busy tackling a seemingly endless list of to-dos. Not only have I been catching up on being away from "home" for the last four months, but I've also been busy preparing to be away from home again for the next five months. I only have a small window of time to do all of this catching up and preparation. One thing on my to-do list has been to get a copy of Brian's photos from his camera. I now have Brian's photos, and I've chosen my favorites to share with you.

All of the photos I've posted on my blog thus far from our Patagonia trip have been from my camera. Aside from a few exceptions when I handed my camera to someone else and requested that they take a photo of me, most all of my photos have been of El Mecánico or of scenery. As I am in many of Brian's photos, this post proves that I, too, was in Patagonia.

Take this one, for example:

Me, strumming some tunes.

As you may recall from my To the End of the World post, we had a 22-hour layover in Buenos Aires at the beginning of the trip. We spent many of these hours sitting outside the airport entrance, basking in the sun, reading books, and strumming the guitalele (a cross between a guitar and a ukulele). El Mecánico took a photo of me playing his guitalele. Based on the position of my fingers, I was playing Mumford & Son's "After the Storm." (In case you are interested, there is an awesome set of tabs for this song located here.)

Valparaíso: One, Two, & Four-Legged Creatures

While the murals, doors and windows, and produce markets all make Valparaíso a great city, the two, three, and four-legged creatures really add to Valparaíso's charm.

Four-Legged Creatures

There is a long stretch of parkway between the north and southbound lanes of Avenida Argentina in Valpo. On certain days of the week, vendors set up produce booths along the parkway (see Valparaíso: The Markets). Sandwiching these produce vendors are hawkers of all sorts of wares. Old housewares, cellophane-wrapped books, and shoelace-less shoes are all laid out on the ground. Imagine blocks upon blocks of garage-sales-on-picnic-blankets.

One of these vendors sells parakeets. Although parakeets count as charming two-legged creatures, what I found more interesting was the four-legged creature who was intently studying the birds. Surprisingly, the doggie was exhibiting no lip-licking; he was merely observing the caged two-legged creatures' every movement.

This four-legged creature intently studies the two-legged creatures.

Around the block from our rental on Cerro Alegre is a mural of a man watching two dogs shag. I found it funny that a street dog decided to nap on the steps below the mural, as the dog's position made him look as though he was dreaming of doggie fornication.

Valparaíso: The Markets

There is something magical about produce markets -- the colors, the smells, the hubbub. And while the farmer's market in my Seattle neighborhood has received national recognition, let's be honest -- it's so damn expensive! We do nothing in the United States to encourage healthy eating; McBurgers are cheaper than produce! That's why I love shopping at produce markets in other countries.

A vendor at the Valparaíso market on Avenida Argentina. Tomatoes cost 600 pesos per kilo (less than $0.45/lb), five squash cost 1000 pesos ($0.30/ea), and one kilo of avocados costs 2000 pesos (less than $1.50/lb).

On a recent trip to the market in Valparaíso, El Mecánico and I filled both of our backpacks with an array of fresh goodies. While our bodies were weighed down by nearly 30 pounds of fresh fruits and vegetables, our pockets were lightened by less than $18.

Valparaíso: Doors, Windows & More

I've taken hundreds of photos as I've wandered the streets of Valparaíso. As I've browsed through the photos, I've notice recurring themes -- doors, windows, signs, laundry, skies. Below are a few of my favorite photos from each of these categories.

Doors

Many businesses close for the afternoon siesta. Though siestas can start anytime after one o'clock and last as late as four o'clock in the afternoon, hours of operation vary drastically during this window of time. Accustomed to the 9-to-5 mentality common in the Unites Stated, the siesta hours sure do complicate shopping. I like the casual hours posted on the door of a jewelry workshop in Valpo. The sign reads: "Hours of Attention: From When I Open to When I Close." This is so Chilean -- in so many ways.

This door is surrounded by an elaborate border of capped columns. I like the contrast of the two columns; one is in decent shape, whereas the other is falling apart.

Valparaíso: Murals #2

Valparaíso: Murals #1 shared my favorite wall-sized murals. This post shares my favorite smaller-scale murals.

While I love the comic-style and vivid colors of this man in a boat, what I love even more is how the paint has peeled, leaving him with only one eye.

Likewise, while I love the simplicity and open-armedness of the girl below, I love even more how she has lost her poor little nose.

Valparaíso: Murals #1

Valparaíso is blanketed in murals.

Though there is a dedicated Open Air Museum ("Museo a Cielo Abierto") in Valparaíso, the entire city is truly museum-worthy.

Valparaíso: The Seaport

Valparaíso was founded in the mid-1500s as a port town. Located on the Pacific, its location is vital to both industry and recreation.

A view of Valparaíso, from a lookout above the port.

Historically, its port made Valparaíso one of the most important coastal cities in South America. For ships that rounded Cape Horn, Valparaíso was the first port that ships would encounter on their long voyage around the continent. However, with the opening of the Panama Canal in 1914, the importance of Valparaíso as a seaport decreased.

Valparaíso: The City

We wanted to experience our final weeks in Chile as residents rather than as travelers. We wanted to immerse ourselves in the language, the culture, and the day-to-day going-ons of Chileans. After considering a handful of locations in which to pass our final six weeks, we decided on Valparaíso.

Looking out over Valparaíso.

Valparaíso is located two-thirds of the way up the Chilean coast. Nicknamed "The Jewel of the Pacific," Valparaíso is the second largest city in Chile. Though neither Brian nor I would describe ourselves as "city people," Valparaíso sounded appealing. In recognition of the city's significant contribution to Chile's culture, Valparaíso earned the highly coveted status as a UNESCO World Heritage Site in 2003. It was this recognition that attracted us to Valparaíso.

Fjords, an Island, and a Volcano

Thursday, March 10th through Tuesday, March 22nd

Leaving Coyhaique, we had two options. We could continue north along the Carretera Austral. Alternatively, we could take a ferry over to the island of Chiloé and bike northwards from there.

Quite frankly, we were done with the Carretera Austral. Though the few kilometers immediately ahead were on pavement and would lead us through a pleasant climate, further beyond we knew that the Carretera meant more terrible roads and wet rainforests.

Me, posing with our last Ruta 7 sign along the Carretera Austral.

We were fine saying goodbye to Ruta 7.

Our Stay in Coyhaique

Monday, February 29th through Thursday, March 10th

If Coyhaique was a record, and if the record player's needle was stuck on the particular moment shown below such that the moment was endlessly played over-and-over again, I would never tire of it.

Coyhaique kitty & me.

What exactly is Coyhaique, you ask?

Continuing Along the Carretera Austral

Sunday, February 21st thru Monday, February 29th

We spent the next eight days continuing north along the Carretera Austral. Here are photos from those days:

An early morning start rewards us with breathtaking views of the valley.

The Boardwalks of Caleta Tortel

Friday, February 19th thru Sunday, February 21st

Caleta Tortel is a town that has no roads. Built on a steep hillside, the houses and shops that compose this coastal fishing village are connected by a web of wooden walkways and staircases. All of the town's buildings and public spaces are built on stilts.

One of the public plazas at Caleta Tortel.

We debated whether to visit Caleta Tortel. A town built amongst boardwalks sounded interesting. But we were concerned that we'd be turned off by the tourists. Plus, the town required a 40 km roundtrip detour off the Carretera Austral on a road that has a reputation for being in eternally poor shape.

Finally Starting the Carretera Austral

Tuesday, February 16th thru Friday, February 19th

Located at the southern tip of South America, the Patagonia region stretches across both Chile and Argentina. Within Patagonia, there are two popular cycling routes: Ruta 40 and Ruta 7.

The first, Ruta 40, runs through Argentina. Because of its location on the east side of the Andes, the climate along this route is desert-like, and the terrain is, in my opinion, less-than-interesting. Ruta 7, on the other hand, runs through Chile. Because of its location on the west side of the Andes, the climate is more temperate, and the terrain is much more varied--think lush rainforests, glaciers, and fjords. Whenever you see gorgeous photos of Patagonia, chances are high that you are looking at the Chilean side of Patagonia. I wanted to see those gorgeous views with my own eyes, and for this reason, I chose to bike Ruta 7 through Patagonia.

This gorgeous view, which is of the bridge crossing Río Mayer, is from the Chilean side of the Andes.

Ruta 7 is commonly referred to as the Carretera Austral ("Southern Road"). Extending from Villa O'Higgins in the south to Puerto Montt in the north, the Carretera Austral runs for 1240 km through southern Chile. It is often called "The Road at the End of the Road" because it starts where the PanAmerican Highway ends. The Carretera Austral is represented by the blue line in the map below:

Bikes, Ferries, and Views -- Oh My!

Saturday, February 13th thru Tuesday, February 16th

The travels of these few days are best summarized by the following map:

We travelled from A to E.

The red circles indicate Points A thru E, as described below:

• Point A is El Chaltén, in Argentina. This town is where we left off with my last post, El Chaltén or Bust.

The Three Chilean P-Towns

Sunday, January 24th thru Monday, February 1st

The theme of the last nine days has been Chilean towns that start with the letter "P": Porvenir, Punta Arenas, and Puerto Natales.

Having finished crossing Tierra del Fuego, we spent one night in a hotel in Porvenir, on the far west side of the island. The ferry that was to take us across the Straits of Magellan to Punta Arenas didn't operate the following day. Being the frugal tourists that we are, we spent the next night sleeping on the benches outside the ferry terminal. We were entertained by the longshoreman as they loaded large containers of fish onto ships. The precision with which they operated their forklifts was incredible!

Later the next afternoon, we boarded the ferry for the twenty kilometer crossing across the straits.

After hanging outside of the ferry terminal for nearly 24 hours, the ferry finally arrived.

We spent the next two nights in Punta Arenas, on the mainland, to resupply and take care of some other need-to-dos. We camped in the yard at Hospedaje Independencia, where we were all super impressed by the owner, Eduardo. His hospitality went above-and-beyond and set a very high bar for our future hostel stays.

Crossing Tierra del Fuego

Tuesday, January 19th thru Sunday, January 24th

Masochistic. Yes, that's the word that seems most apropos. Crossing Tierra del Fuego, we felt like The Three Masochistic Musketeers. It sounds like a Disney movie gone awry. Or perhaps a chocolate candy bar chock-full of razor blades. To be honest, these descriptions are not far from the truth.

El Mecánico sets out into the wild blue yonder.

Tierra del Fuego ("Land of Fire") received its name when European explorers first came to the island and saw the naked natives huddled around fires to stay warm. We've only seen a few fires while on this island -- namely campfires and stove fires. We firmly believe there are more fitting names than Tierra del Fuego for this inhospitable land. Tierra del Nada ("Land of Nothing") comes to mind, as does Tierra de la Muerte ("Land of Death").