Valpo’s commercial centro.
Valparaíso. Chotskies.
Café Samoiedo. A Viña favorite for cortados, relaxing and watching the good people of Viña go about their lives.
Horcón, an enchanting fishing village where there is nothing to do but Be and feast on seafood empanadas. If one is fortunate enough to travel here in just the right epoch, when the stars are just so, soothing sirens can be heard from the small caleta. Get a room on the hill, the views are worth it.
The fishermen return from their daily voyage, horses emerge from the surf to pull the boats onto the beach, the fishermen sell their catch to the marisquerías where they are shucked and cleaned and sold to the empanada shops, where they are folded into dough, deep fried, and served piping hot with homemade ají, cold beer and red wine to the faithful believers who suffer pilgrimage to this small holy place in steady numbers each year. The dogs vie for scraps, the fishermen drink a few too many, and the hippies selling jewelry pass the hooch. All made possible by the fruit of the sea. Such exists the food chain in the fascinating ecosystem of Horcón.
Still satisfecho from the pilgrimage to Horcón, we waddled north, slowly building speed until we arrived at Zapallar, the restful enclave of El Norte Chico. The secluded retreat is protected by clouded wooded mountains, blessed with a perfect beach and decorated by a score of grand mansions lifted from architectural digests and surely imported by steamship from European locales…,
…nestled about a perfect tranquil horseshoe bay of deep cold Pacific blue…,
…a perfection which moves those so inclined to capture its beauty with color, brush and stroke.
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