Adiós Tierra Hermosa

We spent our last day in Elqui Valley soaking up the tranquilo atmosphere, either laying lazily by the pool or reading a book on one of the hammocks shaded by the trees. I made sure to snap as many photos as possible of the flowers and the grapes, the kittens and all those other shapes. I loved how the house with decorated head to toe with memorabilia from our host's travels. It oozed with their personality of bohemia and culture.

I was especially interested in the local, Diaguita pottery they had on display here and there. The Diaguita people inhabited the area from around 1000AD and were skilled in not only totemic ceramic art but also irrigation; a bit like the locals of the Elqui Valley today. The Inca invaded their land in the 15th century and although their presence is said to have improved the employment of pottery, the duck jugs of the Diaguita are forever unique. Mis padres bought me a large one for my birthday, painted with fine geometric patterns in red, black and white.

There remains only one man left who fashions these exotic jugs and it took us the entire day to catch him at home, where we found an array of pottery, differing in size, shape and colour. It was a hard decision to choose only one from amongst them all, to become part of my own collection of travel memorabilia.

We ventured down the road until it became dirt and then when the terrain was too rough we turned back, stopping every so often to take even more photos. Then the following day we had to say goodbye to our hosts, to those gorgeous petite kittens and to the landscape we had so easily fallen in love with. We got into the little red hatch back and drove the 6 hours back south to Santiago, stopping in Los Vilos for lunch. Within the small fishing town, we found a restaurant by the sea. The view of the scenic, calm water was unfortunately not enough for us to take on a liking of this town of dirty, litter-ridden streets. And the food at the restaurant only made it worse.

Gone are the days of the cute, little fishing villages it seems. Now they are forever more becoming metropolitan hubs of colourless culture. Perhaps Elqui Valley had set our standards too high. Whatever the reason, mis padres left me teary-eyed back at Santiago having spent a glorious time exploring the home of my lovely Chilean; a place so long and thin and yet so stack full of content. I am so glad they had a good time.