Not exactly petals.

We haven’t fallen off the face of the earth and as said in the last blog we’re lying low.  Not because the police are after us but because the kids seem to have a bit of trouble shaking this last flu.

A good night’s rest is always recommended when you’re feeling run down.  On Saturday night at around eleven o’clock, a party  started up at the corner of Calle Cummings and Atahualpa.  This may not mean anything to those without a local map but to help put it in perspective the proximity of these streets I shall use the metaphor of the hurled apple.  Calle Atahualpa is close enough and downhill enough that, with a tail wind, one could hurl an apple and hit the offending two hundred people who were having the street party.  That is if the great big green hostel wasn’t in the way.

From eleven pm Saturday night till dawn these people sang, played instruments, drums and the wine bottle. We’ve seen this on other occasions in Valpo where people use an empty wine bottle as a percussion instrument.  The bottle is tapped with a metallic or stone object so that it creates a noise which curls the hairs that lead to the middle ear drum.  Apparently if you are the one who consumed the contents of the wine bottle it sounds more like a fairy laughing than a slow motion car wreck.

Some of those two hundred people wanted to experience the view from the ascensor near our house.  Come one, come all, all you merrymakers with your drums, guitars and empty wine bottles.  Carress my sleep with renditions sung three ways; flat, off key and out of tune.  And when the morning comes, scamper away and leave your broken beer bottles and empty wine caskets and whatever else you couldn’t carry back home.

We were a bit grumpy Sunday and looked forward to a good night’s sleep.  But last night’s party was so good that it had to be recreated.  From eleven o’clock till dawn. It’s like living next door to vampires.

This morning they hosed two hundred metres of Calle Cummings and there is broken glass spread almost to the plan.   We know that Valparaíso isn’t Chile and we can’t judge all Chileans on what we saw last night, but the sheer volume of disrespect for neighbours and environment has left us speechless.  Indiana and I went for a walk to take some photos of the wildflowers that are popping up around Valpo and there were some parts of Atahualpa where we could hardly breath due to the smell of urine.