What's special about this city is that there doesn't seem to be any superficial attempt to cultivate an image. Yes Lonely Planet has to convince travelers of it's value, a personality must be compacted into so many words (travel blogs are guilty of this too), so you'll hear of Chilean poets, artists, the ideologically prolific residing here. They say locals are friendlier and more care-free than their Santiaguino counterparts. But you don't sense that the city is desperate to convince the world of this. Which is why, on our first day, I didn't think there was anything special about the place. Everyone and every guidebook said the place is so damn wonderful, so unique. Well, I've seen this backdrop before. The condensed clusters of colorful houses aren't so original (see Guanajuato, La Boca in Buenos Aires, even some neighborhoods of grimy Lima have joined that bandwagon). Other than that, Valpo seemed like any other big dirty city in Latin America. I was proud of my hastily concluded, against-the-grain opinion, but after a few days I started to see the city's unflaunted charms. The meticulous graffiti that tell stories as you descend the hills, the snaking alleys and staircases that don't apologize for an oscillating terrain, the brightly painted facades that transform poverty into quirkyness. Barely any gift stores strive to capitalize off the packaged image of their city with cheap souvenirs. Valparaiso is cool and composed because it really doesn't care what you think.
Here is where you'll find Latin America's biggest New Year's Eve party. Not only was it the New Year, but the change of the calender also marked Chile's (and most of Latin America's) bicentennial anniversary of independence from the Spaniards. Nearly a million visitors came to Valparaiso for the celebration, crowding the streets, funneling into plazas, leaving confetti and champagne bottles in their wake. At midnight, a half hour panoramic fireworks display over the bay. At 12:30 a.m., jubilant mayhem. Bars and clubs overflow. Kisses and dancing must move to the streets, the music is in the laughter and slurred ramblings of a drunk multitude. The party's featured guest- a robust full moon, validates the night's glory and amplifies the madness. The amorous pair up, cuddle and fall asleep on the grass in the park. By some divine respect for this joyous occasion, no one is hurt by the broken glass that seems to be EVERYWHERE. Strangers hugging, with glazed smiles wishing the other a happy one. The most hopeful, indiscriminately loving morning of the year.
good luck finding your friends (photo cred. Sarah Hassam)
"Kamille, you need more girl friends"
everyone and their babysitter's lover came to the beach that weekend
Chorillana (aka heart attack on a plate): French fries, topped with hot dogs, sausage, grilled meat, fried egg, and cheese.
Happy New Year.
