Let There be Fish

This one comes to you from Valparaiso, Chile. While I would like to write more fully about the last couple of days, I regret to inform you that the keyboard I'm using here is more appropriately classified as "broken" than "not broken".

We're in country number three on our expedition, and Dylan is beside himself with joy at not having to walk through any more cities with "leaves and nice plazas". Instead, we now get to spend our days doing advanced cardio exercise, walking up hills that are, in my view, wholly unsuitable for building any of the thousands of vibrantly colorful houses that line the cobblestone streets in this delightfully decrepit city.

Walking next to Dylan, who was practically orgasming at every turn today, we've already explored much of the western half of the city, which is marked by over two dozen cerros, or hills, of various height. There are lifts - or, when lifts are not available, very long sets of stairs that are reminiscent, to me, of the Exorcist stairs in Georgetown - that bring you up to the top of the various hills for one unreal scenic overlook after another.

We've already had two very good seafood meals in this country, out of a total of two meals. It's not that we're trying to prove anyone wrong, but let's face it - this country is famous for it's God-damned fish and we're going to eat it. I had grilled salmon last night (gotta start easy) and then fried hake today for lunch, which was really about as perfect as fried fish can be.

However long you think this entry has taken me to write, double that number. My patience has been exhausted. Our trip into the country was truly amazing and will be relayed better in pictures than in words, but definitely check out Dylan's post on the topic for some of the more exciting highlights.

EDIT: I neglected to mention our accomodations here. While the hostel on the whole is a pretty cool place, our room has managed to defy reason in one particularly uncomfortable way. It is consistently and significantly colder in our room than the outside air temperature, without the aid of air conditioning. Not a problem, you say? It is when it's 35 degrees out in the morning. In fact, it's still a problem when it's 55 degrees out during the day. It is always freezing. At night, we're now each using a sheet, three blankets, and our sleeping bags.

Also, as Alex would say, this place is dead. I believe we're the only ones here right now, which makes this the third hostel in a row without much in the way of fellow travelers to talk to. And while Dylan and I have been getting along even better than I think either of us expected, it would be nice to have some additional interaction now and then. Finally, the place smells like mildew. Any longer than three days here, and I'd be concerned about asbestos poisoning or something.