WHAT HAPPEND TO SAN ANTONIO?

January 31, 2010

This is country, far away from the big cities. No paved roads, but sand, more suitable for horses and oxen or 4 x 4S,  than for our little car.

We wonder if perhaps we took a wrong turn somewhere, since all of a sudden things look so different. But as long as we can see the coast line, we trust we are going in the right direction. We pass a few tiny wooden huts, covered with dust from the road. The only thing that gives some life to the hut is the old wooden planter filled with bright red Geraniums. This is the perfect picture of Chile. As we stop the car, an old man appears from behind the hut. He does not look all that friendly; even less friendly when I ask him if I may take a picture of his house. Perhaps I should have offered him some Pesos? No; I should expect his privacy and move on. But I will keep this picture in my mind forever. But it’s not all poverty here. The large old Hacienda is an indication, that at one time there were people here who owned a lot of land on which they farmed. Perhaps they had cattle or vegetable crops.

Sometimes I wonder how people could live here, but when I see the ocean on one side and peaceful land on the other with the Andes rising behind it in the horizon, I understand, but am not sure how long I would like to solitude.

This road would be enjoyed a lot more on bicycle or on foot. There is so much beauty. I want to get out of the car every few hundred meters and enjoy the country side, the farmland or the ocean.

Unfortunately we are not able to continue along the coast line. There is a large Lagoon with more sand roads which we are not comfortable with. Besides we have already traveled a good portion of that road last month and like to explore new territory.
All along the coast are small villages with tourists escaping the heat of the valley.
This being a weekend brings out even more tourists. The little stand along the roadside offer whatever they can sell. Strawberries seem to be the most popular item. We buy a half case for $2.00, knowing that once we are on the Autopista it either nothing or high priced items and likely pay double.

We leave the coast behind us, via Cayquenes to continue on the Autopista for about 250 km. There is so much to see, strawberry fields, vineyards and the read earth country. This time we are able to get a better idea of how the bricks are made. We stop to see the ovens and the place were the brick are formed and dried before they are being fired onto the oven.

The Autopista is just as boring as it was before, but that has been the reason we have been avoiding it as much as we could. We put a CD in the stereo, crank up the volume and sing along with Camilo Cesto, Elvis, Charles Aznavour, Adamo and other stars from the sixties. We fill the gas tank once more time, and as soon as we are north far enough and beyond the lagoon part we head west toward the coast again. A bit of a detour, but the time we gained on the Autopista makes up for the lost time through the mountains and dirt roads. Some of the road are not even on our GPS and sometimes are indicated in a different location altogether. It often is a guess, which road to take. But in Chile it is difficult to get lost. You go either south or north. How difficult could it be?

We pass enormous cornfields, orchards and a variety of melon crops. I enjoy driving through the small villages at a much slower pace. Whenever we get out of the cool car to stretch our legs, the heat hits us like an open oven. I can imagine how the local people enjoy the cool river to cool off, the rest will head for the beach.

Once we reach San Antonio it’s too late to be picky. We'll have to settle for the first place where accommodation is available. We’re right at the busy port, on Avenida Mayo 21, only a block away from downtown. This happens to be the same street Ramiro lived during his early teens. In those days this was considered the upper neighborhood with a view of the ocean.

Before it gets too dark we go out and explore the area. Ramiro recognizes many buildings: The first school he attended. The house his cousin Patricia lived in. The place where once a two story apartment building stood was destroyed by the 1960 earthquake and has been replaced by a modern office building.

He points to a building on the corner of the busy street downtown. This is where uncle Guillermo had a store called Copacabana. They sold snacks and coffee and delicatessen. They also had a Soda Fountain, bringing in teenages. For all other items people of all ages would come or sit and enjoy their coffee. Ramiro spent a lot of time here after school and on weekends, helping out and serving customers.

Ramiro is somewhat disappointed; Much has changed in the city, but much is still the same. Personally, I don’t find it a very attractive city, It’s old and run down. The funny thing is, that right along where the port is, a very modern mall, casino, hotel is being built. Even the port is being expanded. It is already the largest port in the country, accommodating freight containers, but more will be built out into the sea, to accommodate more freight. How will the people benefit from this? Will they be able to enjoy a better life with more jobs?

SOMETIMES, NO PLAN IS THE BEST PLAN

Saturday, January 30, 2010

Several family members want to say goodbye as we leave Concepcion. We exchange e-mail addresses and promise to keep in touch. Aide and Manuel we will likely see when we visit Montreal this summer, but the others, who knows?

As we kiss everyone goodbye, I really feel I have gained a second family. Everyone has been so warm, caring and friendly.
As we plan today’s route we agree again that we will take the secondary road rather than the Autopista, which as usual has it’s rewards.

As we follow the winding road through the rolling hills, I see a sign to San Ignacio along the wine route. I swear we’ve been there before, 10 years ago. And it turns out I was right. Only during that time it was winter and cold and wet.

We turn into Ranquil and come upon the store Ramiro’s uncle Wolfgang once owned. Wolfgang passed away a few years ago, but his wife still lives in the beautiful house on the property. We learn that she is visiting Chillan for the weekend, so all we can do is leave a note and move on.

Every community we pass, seems to have something going on. In Coelemu we stetch our legs for a walk around the square. It looks different here. Very summery and lively.
We pass Trehuaco where the dirt bikes races are being held in the dry river bed.





But it is Quirihue that we enjoy the most. When we see some cowboys chasing a team of horses in a corral, we decide to pull over and get out of the car to watch.

 

  

 

Ramiro is the type who prefers to just stand back and watch. I always like to know everything and the only way I will is by asking. It does not take long before we are introduced to the President of the agricultural society, the owner of the land and the mayor.

We’re offered a glass of Ponche. (Red wine, with sugar and peaches) and Mote con Huesillo.  While listening to the Chilean music, we are being interviewed for a You-tube clip and are told to look for it at Trilla Quirihue.

The activity with the horses is called Trilla. Large amounts of hay are spread to the outside of the corral. Two Huasos on horseback, chase 6 horses around  in circles, during which time they crush the hay with their hooves. Every round, more hay is piled up on the run. The horse that stays in the lead the longest wins a trophy.

We receive an invitation to join the rest of the group for Casuela (soup loaded with a chunk  of meat and vegetables) and are asked to stay for the entertainment. There are other activities to celebrate the Honey Festival, but we decide to move on and buy some home made wine and a bottle of Nispero Liqueur before we leave.

Several people suggested we take the road along the coast, another 30 km west. I have the feeling we won’t make it to San Antonio tonight either. But we’re free to do whatever we want and are having plenty of fun. It’s hot and it is dry, very dry, but we know,  as we get closer to the coast it will cool off.

Once we reach the coast, we start looking for a cabin right away, visiting the rock with the thousands of Sea Lions along the way. It’s a bit further nort, close to Buchupureo, along a quiet road, slightly away from the coast that we find a house with two cabins in the back. The yard is full with flowers, orange trees, grapevines and little chickens are running around freely. We’re sheltered from the wind behind the first cabin and enjoy some time outside in the sun.
I insist we walk to the beach for some fresh air. I am taking in so many different images.
The waves are unbelievable here; They are just wild. I wonder how they would be for surfing.
We stay just long enough to see the sun slowly disappear. What a sight!

A GREAT DAY WITH THE FAMILY

Friday, January 29,2010

Ramiro has discovered a cut in one of his tires. Not wanting to take any risks, together with Manuel they get two new tires installed, while the ladies stay home to do some housekeeping.

With two vehicles we drive to the peninsula.
The three sisters, Nena, Patty and Aide and Manuel and the two of us. Over the mountains, past the naval base and down the hill, we reach a small fishing village called Tumbes.

 

 

 

The boys can hardly wait to get their hands onto some fresh oysters and other raw, weird looking creatures from the sea, including some of which are hidden in clumps of dirt from the bottom of the ocean.
I pass on anything that moves and wait for the cooked and fully prepared version of seafood in the restaurant, which I find much tastier. Especially the various crab dishes that Aide and Nena have choosen. They pick a variety of dishes so we can taste different things.

We visit the Huascar; a former Peruvian ship, taken as a trophy by the Chileans after the war with Peru during the late 1800s, when Chile conquered part of Peru all the way up to Lima.
Once the war was settled Chile gave a portion back to Peru, but kept a good chunk all the way up to Arica. The Peruvians believe, that one day they will get their land back as they express in their national anthem.
I hope they wait at least until after we are gone, because we are not able to take our vehicle into Peru and have friends in Arica.

A walk along the beach, an ice cream and the purchase of more Chilean music for the car together with the family, is a wonderful way to end our time in Concepcion.

I guess San Antonio will have to wait. We’re spending one more night at Nena’s.

To access my e-mails and have to go to the Internet Cafe. My attempt to call our daughter Mandy via the Skype phone, to wish her a happy birthday results in no answer. I leave a message and hope to talk to her soon.

CUT IT ALL OFF PLEASE

Thursday, January 28, 2010

My last hair cut was on December 2nd, the day before we left Canada. Considering that I usually get my hair cut every four weeks, it’s about time. I almost don’t recognize myself.
After talking to the lady at the salon I am comfortable having her put the scissors in my hair  and tell her to cut it short. It will take a while to grow back, but I am satisfied with the result.

This is our last chance to visit one of the Rukas of the Mapuche Indians. These are small huts used by the natives in the past. Since Ramiro’s father is from Mapuche heritage, I thought it would be nice to see how they lived and see their traditional clothing.
http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Mapuche

Before we leave Purén we visit the old fort on the top of the hill. Most forts we have seen here were built of stone. Although there is evidence of brick walls around the fort this one is made of wood, much like the one at Fort Edmonton.





As soon as we're on the road again, we hear some rattling coming from the bottom of the car. We decide to have it checked out and drive to a garage where we can drive onto one of those bridges so they can look underneath. Luckily Ramiro quickly discovers a rock that ended up in some opening and soon we’re on our way again and enter the coastal mountain range.

I see a sign for Salto Rayen. I suggest we stop  to see the waterfall. Not so much for the waterfall itself, because in the south we have seen plenty of those. But I thought it would be a good way to get some exercise.
After we pay the small entrance fee we are told that it is a one kilometer hike. One and a half hour minimum.
A small trail leads us along a stream and after half an hour of crossing unstable, swinging bridges, made of planks, tied together with ropes and hollow trees split into two and placed on large rocks, we must pull ourselves up on the slippery rocks with the help of steel cables, to the first level of the fall. The next level is even more difficult, but we made it this far, we might as well go to the next level.

As we continue west, we discover numerous cabins and a beautiful lake. How come they’re always there when you don’t need them and are not there when you do. It’s just like the police, which, by the way, we never see on the road. And they don’t even have Tim Horton here. I wonder where they hang out for coffee.

The large number of logging trucks on this road, really slows us down, but it does allow us to enjoy the scenery.
As we continue farther north we approach Curanilahue, where Ramiro’s maternal grandmother was born. A giant wooden hand, indicates that if we use our hands, we are able to put bread on the table.

We’re back in familiar territory as we pass Lota and approach Concepcion.
Before we continue to Talcahuano for another family visit, we stop at Nena’s house for a visit and to say goodbye. Nena is just making some apricot jam, which must be stirred for a while. While she is geting some drinks ready I look after the jam.

She is quite disappointed when she hears that we plan on finding a place around Talcahuano and continue north from there. “But we still want to have lunch together with the family before you leave. And aren’t you sleeping here tonight?”
We figure we can do lunch tomorrow, but should move on right after that towards San Antonio. We’ll let her know if we are able to find a place for the night.

Ramiro’s cousin Lily, from the Ortiz side of the family, is the sister of Michael who lives in Holland and the half sister of Patricia who lives in Viña del Mar. She lives on the peninsula north of Concepcion together with her husband Patricio and their two daughters. Especially the two girls are delighted to have their Tio visiting from Canada.

Lily shares a large number of old family photos with Ramiro and has several old documents who belonged to her mother, who was born in Germany. She is curious about the content of the old documents and I am able to help her out a bit with the translation.
After we share a meal together we return to Nena’s house for the night, where Manuel and Aide from Montreal have also returned to.