Vista Flores Asado & Bodega

A serene peaceful place in the middle of Mendoza province wine country about 90 km. south of city of Mendoza and 150 km. east of Santiago, Chile. It is separated from Chile by the immense, 6635 km. high Mount Tupungato and Manantiales where a new ski resort is being built. This setting is stunning with the nearby Andes mountains appearing even more enourmous due to the lack of foothills. They are all rock, no trees, and already snow-capped. Winters here bring snow and cold, but the greater temperature variation, because of it’s latitude, further south than Mendoza, and slightly higher altitude, make for tastier grapes and higher quality wine.

This place, maybe it could be called a villa or a chateaux, (I don’t know what either of those things actually are) has a pool, a huge yard, a wonderful patio, and beautiful mature pine and deciduous trees. The inside is elegantly decorated with a minimum of stuff. The large building nearby is a small bodega. There is a bar in the house as well as plenty of places to sit and eat. Last night for dinner, Roberto went out to his bodega to tap one of the big fermenter tanks. He filled four bottles with fifteen day old wine that we enjoyed with dinner. The wine was a baby, he said, a mix, unaged, and it was delicous. Today we enjoyed a traditional Argentine asado. Mucho excellent meat cooked to perfection.

Click here to see the Vista Flores Photo set.

Chile: Viña del Mar, Valparaiso – April 20-23, 2006.

Photo Set for this trip is here: http://www.flickr.com/photos/kristian_kerr/sets/72057594116477820/

The first day of the trip was one of those long days where countless times the comment was made, “It’s still Thursday?” It was a fantastic day that in reality began the night before. We packed up at the ultra-last minute and arrived at the bus terminal in the nick of time to purchase our tickets to Viña del Mar, without our passports. Oops. After purchasing our tickets, we got a cab right back home and then back to the terminal again. We left at the last minute because we were waiting to find out if Wendy’s school was going to have a strike. We should know by now, if there is a chance, there will be a strike. When we found out, we decided to take advantage and go. I got about an hour of sleep before reaching the fronterra (border) with Chile. Smooth and fast was the border crossing. I usually sleep on the bus, especially the overnighters, but this time I was awake so I decided to make use of the time by reading about our destination in our borrowed Lonely Planet Chile guidebook.

We arrived in Viña del Mar at 4am and killed some time in the bus terminal organizing our stuff and eating a granola bar. We finished reading a little bit about the town in our guidebook and since there was nothing open, we made our way out into the darkness of the unknown city. The other passengers from our bus stayed. Much rain had just fallen. The town was dead except for a few palm frond street sweepers in action and the occasional pedestrian. We passed through the center and the main plaza. There was a little more activity here. We wandered around the nice looking Plaza Vergara that had a variety of labeled botanical trees before we decided to continue on to the beach. Going to the beach was one of the primary goals of this trip. We finally got to the ocean, bypassing the fancy casino that may or may not have been open. For Wendy, it had been since Patagonia since she had seen the ocean. Unbelievable that that was already three months ago. For me, it had been since Brazil, two months. We walked along what seemed like a newly created promenade to the cacophony of the violent shore break. The raucous waves would boom and hiss. We only encountered two weirdoes, or scary people. One was a guy in a car that was turning ahead of us who stopped in the middle of his turn to stick his hand out his window, and form, with some degree of difficulty, a middle finger and ugly face, before driving off. The other weirdo was a guy who wanted something and had trouble navigating his bike. I saw him again behind us after we had walked a ways. He was still having trouble. I don’t understand the words that come out of these peoples mouths. I wish they would shut them. We reached a pier and it was still nowhere near light out. We sat on the deserted beach in the chill air and watched the fog roll around. We talked about whether or not we should be in the light, the power of the ocean, and perhaps something deeper. I don’t recall now.

After a while we headed back, without incident, to Cap Ducal, a beautifully built ship shaped bar/restaurant. We asked if they were open for coffee. They let us enter and wait the 20 minutes until they opened at our pick of tables. Luckily it was also a hotel or there was no way it would have been open. The décor inside was awesome. We picked a table out over the ocean and watched the water rush in and out below us, not a good seat for someone who is prone to seasickness. We relaxed and enjoyed the coffee, the view, the ambiance, and the security of the light of day. Afterwards, we explored Viña on foot, making our way back to the plaza via a clock of flowers, a hill with a castle (cerro castilo), and a tarantula.

We got some cheap and tasty food at Swiss restaurant, Panadería Suiza. Wendy starts a curious propensity of constantly ordering hot dogs this day. After a visit to the tourist information center and checking out a few options, we decide to make Residencial Magallanes our home in Viña because the lady there was incredibly friendly.After a quick nap, we head north by bus to check out Reñaca and Concón. We further satisfy our ocean urge at broad, beautiful, beach of Reñaca, which is bordered by intense shoreline development. We pick up a beer and some snacks at a grocery store. Wendy continues her accidental hot dog picking. We sit on the beach and enjoy our selections. Next stop Concón. Oops, missed our stop. Lucky for us we got a nice bus driver who stops on oncoming bus to explain our situation and soon we are headed back to where we came from. Concón is my favorite place this day. Because there is nothing to see and the shoreline development is non-existent. We run around and take photos on the beach that is all but deserted except for a couple kids catching waves and a surfer in the distance, and a beautiful sunset.

We are here to eat seafood. We search for the restaurant recommended by our guidebook only to find it closed. We backtracked to a place we passed that did not look too bad. As we walked up the stairs to his restaurant, this guy cooking inside shouts out the window, “What are you guys looking for?” Food was our simple reply. He implored us to enter. Gigi was a master chef with personality to boot! He spoke English with a thick French accent and looked like he could have been from anywhere. He was from Santiago and he had traveled around the world. Every dish he brought out of his kitchen, he brought by our table to explain a little bit about it to us. This was very helpful in helping Wendy break her hot dog ordering habit. He made the best appetizer I’ve ever eaten. After we were finished, he actually left his restaurant during dinner to take Wendy and me to the bus stop. If I’m ever in Concón again, I am going to his place: DelGigi.

Finally, the next day comes. It’s once more to the beach before we take ourselves to Valparaiso, a great city, dripping with character and history. I liked it in the same way I like San Francisco. It is a maze of streets through a tapestry of some 47? hills. It’s a photographers dream with vibrant colors, art, and architecture. We find a great bed and breakfast with an amazing view after a long time searching. We find a Havana themed salsa club and enjoy (or struggle through due to rust) our first salsa dancing in South America. Salsa in Argentina? Sorry, Try Tango. The next day we happen across a free city tour offerred by the tourism association becuase it is the week of some festival.

Las Leñas, San Rafael, Valle Grande – April 11-15

South Mendoza Province – Semana Santa Trip

Every so often, I need to escape from my harried life in Mendoza Ciudad. I know that most people wouldn’t understand exactly what I’m trying to get away from. Me either. It’s not really escaping anything. In fact, it is a pursuit; a pursuit of discovery, new places and experiences, life on the road. It is great fun to get on a bus with everything you need carried on your back. You have a destination in mind, but you don’t have to go there. You can get off where it looks good. You can stay on, out of curiosity, to see where the bus stops. The latter we find ourselves doing quite frequently.

This excursion to the south of Mendoza province started with a 6am departure on a bus to Las Leñas with a connection in San Rafael. Las Leñas is Argentina’s premier ski resort. I often avoid making comparisons in order to more fully realize a thing or place in its own context. But here, I compare. Las Leñas is high and dry and small. It looks like a good ski resort, but compared to the bigger winter resorts of Colorado that I am used to, it is a mere fraction. I hope the snow and prices are good. It would be cool to work there as a snowboard instructor or cartographer. Right, big difference. I know, well, I have to be adaptable. I talked to the mountain boss here about the possibilities of either. He said to call a guy in a couple weeks.

We had set out to see Valle Hermoso (recommended by a guy from Alaska) another 18 km up the road that was not served by regular transportation. We didn’t go. We were recommended to hike up to the top of Las Leñas peak by one of the people in the ski patrol office. So this, we set out to do. We did not make it. It’s not like me to keep not making it. We did see tons of fossils, which was very cool. Apparently, these mountains, the highest in the Americas, were on the floor of the ocean only a short time ago (geologically speaking, of course).

We camped two nights, waking up under a blanket of white the second. This meant it was time to get down the hill to San Rafael, which I really liked. It is like a smaller, more tranquil Mendoza with a lot of cool stuff nearby and plenty of sidewalk cafés and things to do in town. We found a hostel “Hotel Atuel” right across the street from the bus terminal. We wondered around the town and finally decided eat chivito (kid goat) at a parilla called Pancho’s. It was a delightful Argentine asado; delicious if not glutonous…

The next morning, after missing our 9am bus to Valle Grande by 5 minutes, we headed back to our hostel to leave our gear while we got breakfast and waited for the 1pm bus. We found a fancy, expensive café where we got breakfast. A gentleman who was staying in our same hostel recognized us and came over to our table to chat us up for a bit. He told us “salta mi corazoncito” when he saw us return to the hostel to leave our backpacks. The phrase does not translate directly very well (my little heart jumped). It means that he has a soft spot in his heart for backpackers and backpacking that was excited when he saw us. He looked to be in his 40’s. He told us that he was backpacking around, about 15 ago. Now he was in San Rafael planning to build a weekend home/vacation rental up in Valle Grande, where we were trying to get to that day. Wendy remarked that that would be a good investment. I think that comes from the observation of her parents magically renting out their home in Kailua in order to fund multi-month travels around the world every year. I would have to agree.