Pichilemu

As I have come to find, living in a big city can really come to wear on a person. These past few weeks have been particularly difficult, especially given the fact that I haven't had the time to leave Santiago until this past weekend. In the weeks before, I suffered through midterms--as we all do--but midterms in a foreign language, foreign format, and foreign grading system add a special "feel" to an already difficult task. Needless to say, the past two weeks were not my favorite here. However, this past weekend, I made up for lost time.

My friend, Analiese, organized a trip to a little beach town called Pichilemu, so I got together with Pat--a frequent comrade on my adventures--and we bought a $15 2-man tent to share for the weekend. Tent adventures would follow, but first we had to get there. Analiese did all of the planning and reserved us a campsite that was supposedly 20 minutes from the beach. However, taking the Chilean concept of time into account, it turned out to be a 30 to 40 minute walk. However, it had a great view of the town and the hills around it.

After our 3 hour bus ride from Santiago, we set up camp and headed down to look around the town and check out the beach. It's odd how similar it is to the Oregon coast with big green, forested hills sloping down to a wide beach with a barrier of grass-covered dunes in between. And, of course, the Pacific remains the Pacific. We stayed on the beach for a few hours before heading to a market to buy some supplies--also known as cheap beer--and returning to our campsite.

That night, we cooked and sat around talking. Our fire died, but we kept sitting, watching headlights come over the coastal mountains and wind down the road into the town. When the moon rose over the mountains, our poetic night was rather complete.

Pichilemu is more famous for its waves than its beach. The cove it is built around is positioned at an angle that catches the force of the wind coming from the south. It makes for a bad place for boats, but a great place for big waves. Cassiel and Analiese decided to take surf lessons while Pat and I decided to explore the town and return to laugh as they repeatedly crashed into the water. Pat and I were rewarded with our little exploration with some really cool photo ops and burritos! It sounds weird, I know, but Mexican food is kind of exotic in Chile. Within Santiago, it's one of the most expensive types of food, so when we saw the cheap burrito sign, you can imagine how excited we were.

We returned to find the girls still surfing. And falling. How can you not laugh when something like this happens?

When they tired of surfing, we found a taxi and headed to Punta de Lobos a few kilometers south. It's supposedly the best surfing spot in Chile. The waves are definitely big. But we were content with taking a nap on the beach. Call us what you will: lazy, scared, ...normal. You'd probably be right.

We were going to stay and watch the sun set from the top of the bluff by the beach but caught a ride with the girls' surf instructor who had gone to Punta de Lobos after the lesson. We all piled into his old VW van for a bumpy ride home. We returned to our campsite to find that 18 other people had set up camp as well. We were lucky to have the first night alone, but this turned out to be an interesting cultural experience, to say the least. They were all workers in a bread factory in Santiago, and the company had sponsored their trip to the beach. They were all extremely nice. Whether it was South American hospitality, their high level of inebriation, or a combination of the two, I don't know. What is important is that they gave us Chilean Twinkies, which I sadly report are nowhere near as good as US Twinkies. However, they did invite us to sit, talk, and dance. And so it went that we partied the night away with the Chilean bread makers.

The next morning, we woke up, broke camp, and headed back for Santiago. Pichilemu was a much needed escape. I can't recommend a nap on the beach enough. It was perfect. Combined with the hospitality of the town--Chileans would smile and say "Hola" whenever they walked by and even offered to give us directions before we could even ask--it made for a wonderful recharge.

And our tent survived the weekend, although I have a feeling it won't survive many more.

Chao.