Which worked out, because the food was delicious! They specialized in seafood, and offered seven or so different species of fish grilled, fried, or deep-fried. Basically, it made me wanna vomit, so I forced myself to keep my eyes on my meal. To top it all off, there were multiple life-size sculptures of cave men with looks of anguish on their faces, representing the pain of being digested-all for the purpose of providing the client with the experience of dining inside of a Mastodon's digestive system. Furthermore, red tubing and some odd worm-like hanging ornamentation that looked like a hot bloody mess was also abundant. For starters, the walls were painted dark/medium dark red-honestly it just looked as if gallons of blood had been smeared all over the walls. As there was no room on the first floor for seven hungry gringos (there were indeed seven in my travel group) we were escorted to the basement. The first floor has sort of a low-budget Rain Forest Cafe theme, with wax jungle flora and sculptures of wild animals featuring as the most prominent decor, but of course I was destined for something more bizarre. Have you ever wanted to experience the sensation of dining inside of a prehistoric elephant's stomach? Well, me neither, but that's exactly what we got at El Mastodonte, a deceptively great restaurant. While at one point some of the ascensores were straddling the fence between barely functioning and broken, a considerable amount of funds has since been poured into reviving these iconic machines. Valparaiso has a total of 15 ascensores, which are more like funiculars, and which have been fixtures of the city for over one hundred years. After checking into a fantastic hostel (that was also a bargain for around $11 US per night) atop Cerro Concepcion, we meandered through the lively street-vendor-filled narrow streets before taking an ascensor, or elevator, down to the foot of the hill to begin our quest for dinner. And that's more or less what my friends and I did. Honestly, I could have spent an entire weekend walking the romantic winding streets that snake up and down the hills. Bland suburban-America-off-white? Absolutely not. And when I say vibrantly colored, I mean vi bra ntly col ored! You want a bright purple house? Valparaiso has about a thousand. Basically, the image that I'm trying to paint is one of large hills peppered with tightly-packed, vibrantly colored houses. Think of a beautiful, non-life-threatening version of the favelas of Rio de Janeiro (no offense to anyone who lives there! I meant no disrespect!). While the city center is representative of your average Latin American centro-high-rises, plazas with fountains, and bustling central avenues, it's the cerros, or hills, located on the fringes of the town, that really set Valparaiso apart.
The first thing I noticed upon getting out of the bus was the absolute color overload that characterizes this city! Seriously, If you're at all susceptible to seizures, avoid this place at all costs. By the way, I sure hope "the city by the bay" is really a nickname for San Francisco, because I'm not editing this blog.
Well, that, and maybe a more liberal, bohemian mentality than Santiago. While Valparaiso is hilly in nature, that is about the only trait it shares with the city by the bay. The guide books will say something akin to "this place reminds of San Francisco," but I'm not buying it. Definitely the most important of Chile's port cities, Valparaiso's nickname is "the jewel of the Pacific," and while much of the city may have fallen into poverty and disrepair over the last century, it is still tremendously enchanting. Seriously.Īnyway, two weekends ago, I (along with my fellow US study abroad students) visited the quaint port city of Valparaiso-about one-hour-and- a-half from Santiago as the bus drives. To the half-handful or so who may be following this blog, sorry about that. So I guess it's been about 10 days, or so, since my last entry.
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