The best time I've spent in Chile so far was learning how to surf---but much more!---in the modest, dusty town of Pichilemu, a four-hour southbound busride from Santiago, where I had spent the last two weeks rotting in the hostel and feeling not homesick but self-sick. But yesterday morning I boarded a charter bus with Sam and a fellow hostelmate, now a friend, Lauren, to a place which Lauren's tourist handbook described as a hotspot for surf lessons and empanadas good enough to write home about.
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| Sam giving the ol' "wink of approval" as we stepped foot off the bus in Pichilemu |
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| One of the many homeless dogs that roam freely in Pichilemu, just catching himself a break |
Awesome! Our fate was sealed as we resolved to drop our stuff off at the nearby 'surf hostel' and find out whether Marcello was more than a mirage. We walked among a horde of mangy dogs, down dusty roads, to the hostel.
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| Lauren petting a horse in the streets of Pichilemu |
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| A remarkably charismatic stray dog |
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| Perpetually followed by dogs, we arrive at the labyrinthine surf hostel |
So the surf hostel was built around some baffling idea of spirals and knots, but we had the entire top floor to ourselves...in fact we were the only inhabitants of the place the whole weekend...we picked up the keys from a woman a few blocks away and had to lock up the place ourselves.
The three of us hitchhiked to Wolf Point---also a first for us---and inquired at a few cabanas for "Marcello" until we spotted the blue cabana. A bunch of boys were kicking it on the front patio, blasting reggae and baking in the sun. They direct me to the upper level of what pretty much is a treehouse, and as I am climbing the ladder up, Marcello sticks his head out and tries to recognize me for a few seconds. His eyes light up with delight as he realizes we have come to take him up on the offer for surf lessons.
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| Me and Lauren posing in our wetsuits |
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| Life's a wave and I'm riding the tide! |
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| Sam looking like a natural as she catches some gnar |
The lesson itself was a blast. My most successful rides occurred during the first session at sea, but Sam was riding like a champ all day. I could not believe how quickly the skills came to her, and I fought the urge to blame my clumsiness on an ill-waxed board. We rode the current twice across the stretch of beach before taking a breather and proceed to our next undertaking: shopping with Marcello.
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| Sam took this photo of Wolf Point, from the porch of Marcello's Surf Shack |
Marcello approaches me as I'm drying off in the hammock and asks if I have a driver's license: he needs me to drive him in his car to the market, because he doesn't have a driver's license. Hmm...
Let me tell you about the Jeep Wrangler: it is very battered. It also does not have an ignition. Marcello has to hot-wire the car every time we want to turn it on or stop. Also, it drives stick, so I had to hand the wheel over to Lauren because I can't drive stick. Marcello puts on some awesome Chilean folk music, sits in the back, and we bump along from market to market picking up fish, bread, vegetables, beer, and wine for the evening's beachside cookout. Yes, we are not only getting surfing lessons, but an authentic seafood barbecued dinner from this still mysterious man. He's quite magnanimous, and apparently very popular---everybody in town extends their hands to dap or high-five him as we cruise by, like some kind of living saint. At any stop along our route, he's whistling to a friend across the road, beaming, and with some vague gesture beckons the Jeep onwards.
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| One of the few photos we have of Marcello |
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At this point I'll break the narrative and talk a bit about "Tom", a young man from New Zealand who was among the crew maxin' and relaxin' at the surf shanty when we first wandered up. Tom is 23 and has been living in Pichilemu for 3 years, working as a gardener and an apprentice to a world-famous ukulele builder---this master craftsman is currently working on the very ukulele that Eddie Vedder will play when Pearl Jam performs in Chile next month, according to Tom). Tom himself is an experienced ukulele craftsman as well, and when he's not earning a buck he's surfing at Wolf Point.
I appreciate Tom...I also admire him, and I envy him a little. In his own words, he's working enough to get by so that he can maximize his time surfing and chilling on the beach, the only place he wants to be. However, he expressed to me that he knows he will soon grow tired of doing the same thing every day---in his words, "nothing"---at which point he will go back home to New Zealand to join a new cult of life. It was startling to hear this guy speak so certainly of his current situation, and heartening that he was completely comfortable with the path that he set for himself. Nothing was going to get in his way, nor had it, as far as he was concerned.
Most notably, Tom reminded me starkly of my friend Nick from back home, as he embodied the spirit of carpe diem (literally!) and did it with pure chillness and a smile. The last thing he said to me, as I was watching the sunset from my bench, was that I should go out for one more surf session: "Why not go out again? Surfing at sunset is the best surf you can have. Better off ending your day on a high note!"
And that I did...we did, Lauren, Sam, and I. We all agreed that we couldn't pass up one more opportunity to cut the ice-cold water and embrace the last glow of the day. So we slapped on our wet suits and hit it one more time.
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More stuff happened before and after...well into the night, in fact...but I can always relay those details in person if any of you are curious.
Also, be sure to check out Sam's facebook page for many more photos from our weekend in Pichilemu.
- Joe
