Welcome to Valpo on the Pacific
The barman grins and points to the mirrored wall behind him, where familiar and unfamiliar bottles of alcohol form a disorderly line on a shelf along the length of the room. Among the boozy kaleidoscope, three dolls in party dresses slouch next to a faded black and white photograph of the bar 40 years ago.
In the photograph, the dolls occupy roughly the same position, possibly with more dignity than they do today. “This is a very old bar,” he says.
The stools lining the long, oak bar counter are empty as the working day outside nears its end, but the barman energetically wipes the surface with a dirty rag in anticipation of the custom to come. It only real hots up after 10pm when the young musicians stroll in, followed by hardy fans who stay until closing time at 5am. High on the wall stars from past - the Beatles were big here, too - keep watch with various degrees of cool insouciance.
This is the Bar La Playa in Valparaiso (Valpo to those who love it) - Chile's main port and seat of the National Congress. La Playa, which opened its doors in 1908 and hasn’t change much since then, is one of those 'finds' you’re dead chuffed to claim as your own as you aimlessly wander about a new city, only to be mildly deflated by the realisation that Lonely Planet has already been there. (The guide book also recommends Bar Inglés, which despite its romantic reference to the British influence in South America in a previous era, doesn’t have the same old-world ambiance as La Playa.)
Valparaiso of the 45 hills is an aimless wanderer’s delight. Creaking wooden ascensores (funicular lifts) takes the labour out of getting to the top of the steep hills, but mostly it’s a city in which to be guided by your own sense of adventure and stamina. Start at the busy port where the old sea dogs, young naval cadets and ladies of uncertain age all perform their daily tasks as ordained, then show your steel navigating the edginess of downtown traffic, pickpockets and vendors of all things necessary and unnecessary before heading for the hills.
The hills, to which colourful corrugated iron houses have been clinging since the early 19th century, give perspective to sprawling Valparaiso. Here among the alleyways and cobbled streets you are not only closer to the sun and able to breathe freer, you also get a sense of the city’s position on the coast as well as realising just how hilly it really is. Down below, life rumbles on.
Valpo - UNESCO World Heritage Site, and home to the oldest Spanish-speaking newspaper in continous publication as well as the first stock exchange in South America - was, like most of the rest of the region, created by immigrants. And two of its most famous hills, Alegre and Concepción, were first settled by Englishmen trying to make a life away from the motherland. Today, tourists ride the ascensores for the view, cool breeze, and atmospheric back streets with their many photo opportunities and quaint cafes.
In 1959, Bellavista, so named for its near-panoramic view of the city, was the hill of choice for Chile’s most celebrated son: poet, diplomat and collector of beautiful things Pablo Neruda. La Sebastiana, one of his three quirky houses with a nautical theme that have all become museums, is perched high on the hill, a perfect vantage point from which to gawp at the continent’s most spectacular New Year’s eve fireworks, which still draws crowds to the hillsides. Take a taxi there, and spend some time in the house. Neruda’s love for the sea (although he couldn’t swim) is evident everywhere, from the huge windows with their captain’s view of the Pacific to the mermaid figurines and wood-panelled bar.
Then take a taxi to Bar La Playa where you might just find a lone barman polishing his counter, getting ready for the crowds, and eager to serve you an ice cold beer.
The stools lining the long, oak bar counter are empty as the working day outside nears its end, but the barman energetically wipes the surface with a dirty rag in anticipation of the custom to come. It only real hots up after 10pm when the young musicians stroll in, followed by hardy fans who stay until closing time at 5am. High on the wall stars from past - the Beatles were big here, too - keep watch with various degrees of cool insouciance.
This is the Bar La Playa in Valparaiso (Valpo to those who love it) - Chile's main port and seat of the National Congress. La Playa, which opened its doors in 1908 and hasn’t change much since then, is one of those 'finds' you’re dead chuffed to claim as your own as you aimlessly wander about a new city, only to be mildly deflated by the realisation that Lonely Planet has already been there. (The guide book also recommends Bar Inglés, which despite its romantic reference to the British influence in South America in a previous era, doesn’t have the same old-world ambiance as La Playa.)
Valparaiso of the 45 hills is an aimless wanderer’s delight. Creaking wooden ascensores (funicular lifts) takes the labour out of getting to the top of the steep hills, but mostly it’s a city in which to be guided by your own sense of adventure and stamina. Start at the busy port where the old sea dogs, young naval cadets and ladies of uncertain age all perform their daily tasks as ordained, then show your steel navigating the edginess of downtown traffic, pickpockets and vendors of all things necessary and unnecessary before heading for the hills.
The hills, to which colourful corrugated iron houses have been clinging since the early 19th century, give perspective to sprawling Valparaiso. Here among the alleyways and cobbled streets you are not only closer to the sun and able to breathe freer, you also get a sense of the city’s position on the coast as well as realising just how hilly it really is. Down below, life rumbles on.
Valpo - UNESCO World Heritage Site, and home to the oldest Spanish-speaking newspaper in continous publication as well as the first stock exchange in South America - was, like most of the rest of the region, created by immigrants. And two of its most famous hills, Alegre and Concepción, were first settled by Englishmen trying to make a life away from the motherland. Today, tourists ride the ascensores for the view, cool breeze, and atmospheric back streets with their many photo opportunities and quaint cafes.
In 1959, Bellavista, so named for its near-panoramic view of the city, was the hill of choice for Chile’s most celebrated son: poet, diplomat and collector of beautiful things Pablo Neruda. La Sebastiana, one of his three quirky houses with a nautical theme that have all become museums, is perched high on the hill, a perfect vantage point from which to gawp at the continent’s most spectacular New Year’s eve fireworks, which still draws crowds to the hillsides. Take a taxi there, and spend some time in the house. Neruda’s love for the sea (although he couldn’t swim) is evident everywhere, from the huge windows with their captain’s view of the Pacific to the mermaid figurines and wood-panelled bar.
Then take a taxi to Bar La Playa where you might just find a lone barman polishing his counter, getting ready for the crowds, and eager to serve you an ice cold beer.
Here Is The Writer : Travelyarder
For two years Esther Spaarwater (ex-Financial News Journalist, ex-JPMorgan Asset Management marketer) and Amanda Couper (former Clifford Chance lawyer) gave up their respectable jobs to travel the world. Back in London they have given up on any attempt to exorcise the travel bug and have instead launched www.travelyard.co.uk, an itineraries website aimed at busy workers who want to spend their two-week annual leave in interesting destinations but don't have the time to figure out the where, what and how. Anyone interested in joining them on a two-week, 4WD camping holiday in Namibia in September can contact them at info@travelyard.co.uk or find out more by clicking their Namibia page.
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