Trip Start Mar 11, 2009
28Trip End May 06, 2009
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Valparaiso was named a UNESCO Heritage Site for itīs colourful buildings/houses all built on a hill. It is a famous port that was ransacked by pirates (in some year), namely the famous pirate Sir Frances Drake. It is incredibly beautiful, charming, ancient and crumbling, colourful and lovely. Itīs the perfect place to be for Easter weekend. Itīs quiet, sunny, and most importantly - I can see the sea!
April 12, 2009:
The deafening crash of the massive waves sounded an intimidating warning, just in case youīd missed the īNo Swimmingī signs littered along the substantial blanket of sand. I was told Reņaca was the better beach, when compared to Viņa del Mar, both of which are only twenty minutes or so from Valparaiso, so I spent a good portion of today getting burnt on it.
Then I went in search of food and mistakeningly stepped inside a "North American trendy" sushi place only because it said sushi, was open, and Iīd been dying for sushi for weeks.
Itīs interesting how some people wear a false air of sophistication like armour, as if the only thing that matters is their perfectly coiffed hairdo, their ridiculously long fake nails and the designer label at the back of their neck. And if they break a nail or the wind teases a bit of hair from their updo, itīs a travesty, like a Shakespearean tragedy, someone might as well have come to a dramatic end.
I can do sophisticated. Itīs really not that difficult. It may be that ninety-nine percent of you see me ninety-nine percent of the time being comfortable being me; Iīd rather prance around in bare feet and cotton tank tops than Jimmy Choos and Dolce & Gabana, but I have mastered the four-inch heel, I can pull off a pinstripe gracefully and though I donīt own one, I do know how to use a curling iron to tame my wannabe afro.
So, I didnīt expect the reaction I received when I walked into this uber classy restoloungewhatever-trendy-name-theyīre-calling-restaurant-bars-nowadays for sushi. I didnīt expect the almost-sneer from the overly fashionable couple in their fourties to my left and I certainly didnīt expect the teenaged server who was wearing more makeup at 3pm than I ever have even on my most scandalous night out to glare at me so blatantly. On another day, somewhere else (Toronto, NYC) I would have leaned back in a nice pair of heels, crossed my legs and nodded, yes Iīd love to try the wine thank you. As it was, my beach clothes and sandy toes (wind mussed hair and sun burnt nose) stuck out painfully. If it hadnīt been for the judgemental people surrounding me, I wouldnīt have felt so self-conscious. It was the most uncomfortable solo dining experience Iīve ever had. When they brought the bill and obligingly said they hoped to see me again, I thought "like hell."
I mean, who do they expect to show up in a restaurant spitting distance away from the beach in a tiny town? And. The sushi was - way - overpriced, of course.
April 13, 2009:
Streched out on the courtyard couch this morning, toes curling in the sun even as my hand shielded my eyes from it, I was reading my book while lazily sipping coffee this morning and feeling much like a stomach-full-satisfied cat. Fat and happy. Lingeringly lazy.
Is it really ridiculous (foolish-juvenile) to think that life could always be like this? To believe that life, being our own, is whatever we make of it? That I could spend entire days giving into the pleasures of tea, a good book and my journal? I am stubbornly convinced I will never allow circumstances to affect my decisions. That I will never feel trapped. But then I wonder what that will look like - in the long run. It seems like tee possibility of it being a very selfish, lonely life is quite high.
I donīt (ultimately) be someone who doesnīt have Time. I know what that feels like and itīs rushed, hurried, unpleasant. And yet, being someone who has Time in a world filled with other who donīt just leave me, ironically, alone with too much time (to kill). If everyone I loved had more Time, it would be perfect.
Unfortunately, most people donīt (seem to) think like me nad Iīm sure Iīm sometimes looked at as a person who skirts around the edges of Responsible Adulthood. (Whereīs my university degree, my full time job, my car, my mortgage payments?) But if being a "responsible adult" (funny because Iīm one of the most responsible people I know) means feeling trapped then apss the Barbie Dolls please, Iīd rather be five years old again.
Iīm feeling strangely lonely today. Not in a sad way, in a - just am - way. Itīs an unfamiliar feeling and itīs the lazy, comfortable day thatīs done it. Itīs been the sort of day you want to share with someone; pass them some tea and fight over the patch of sun on the patio sort of day. At least a feeling of anticipation at seeing loved ones accompanies the loneliness - giving it a purpose.
April 14, 2009:
Goodbye Chile, itīs been brief but Iīve had enough of your European Americanisms. Off to Mendoza, Argentina I go where I will pedal a bike from vineyard to vineyard, tasting their wears. Hopefully I donīt tip over!