I made a detour through the north of Chile after visiting the salt flats and lagunas in southwest Bolivia. Two days and one night in Arica, a surfing hot spot and beach destination for Chileans. Even in the [South American] winter!
I stayed with Brian at the Doña Inés hostel.
"Roberto and his staff look forward to welcoming you at the Arica hostel, one of the HI network of hostels in Chile, which is located 2km away from the city center of Arica. Make the most of your trip - with outdoor BBQs, paragliding, surfing and paintballing - you'll never be short of things to do! The laid-back hostel hosts late breakfasts, kitchen facilities, a common room, a ping-pong table and hammocks for relaxing days! Hostel rooms include mini-refrigerators, TVs and private bathrooms."
(From the hostelling international website)
(Photo from my bedroom)
The Doña Inés is a special place. Aside from having hosted the 4 Lesbian Princesses (see above), it is the main residence of one Don Roberto, owner and chief reprobate of the Doña Inés domain. Roberto prescribes activities and drinks to his guests like a Doctor of Fun; no one departs the hostel without leaving a tangible mark, be it on the wall of photos behind the reception or the graffiti that encrusts every available surface. The lucky ones acquire nicknames (see again the 4 Lesbian Princesses).
I've met fellows like Roberto before: older party animals that can talk up a door knob (so long as there's liquor). So what stood out wasn't the fact that he has a Brazilian girlfriend 20 years younger. Or that, in spite of his girlfriend, he still seemed lusty enough to shag the cute, blue-eyed, and very male British apprentice he'd hired in the last month (Robert, aka the Gay Roberto). What I took away from my time at Doña Inés was a story Roberto shared with me and Brian over Piscolas.
It seems Roberto is a keen observer of reading habits, especially amongst today's youth. (Can't say that I blame him - I consider myself privileged to live in a city where I can pretend to know someone on the subway based on the book they're reading, since two out of three Boston commuters actually read...!)
It also seems he once came across a German guest lazing on one of the hostel's hammocks and thumbing through a German copy of Dan Brown's The Da Vinci Code.
"When I saw this, I said, this fucking guy. You have to be fucking kidding me. This fucking guy, he's German, he can read Goethe, or Kafka, or Herman Hesse, or Thomas Mann. And he's sitting here, in my hammock, and he's reading the fucking Da Vinci Code. So I said no way, man, I said, no fucking way."
What did you do? Brian and I asked.
"I'll tell you, I took his book from him. That fucking Dan Brown bullshit. I took it outside, and I took my lighter, and I burned it. I burned that fucking book in front of that fucking guy."
Oh, the horror. Oh, the admiration.
I've met fellows like Roberto before: older party animals that can talk up a door knob (so long as there's liquor). So what stood out wasn't the fact that he has a Brazilian girlfriend 20 years younger. Or that, in spite of his girlfriend, he still seemed lusty enough to shag the cute, blue-eyed, and very male British apprentice he'd hired in the last month (Robert, aka the Gay Roberto). What I took away from my time at Doña Inés was a story Roberto shared with me and Brian over Piscolas.
It seems Roberto is a keen observer of reading habits, especially amongst today's youth. (Can't say that I blame him - I consider myself privileged to live in a city where I can pretend to know someone on the subway based on the book they're reading, since two out of three Boston commuters actually read...!)
It also seems he once came across a German guest lazing on one of the hostel's hammocks and thumbing through a German copy of Dan Brown's The Da Vinci Code.
"When I saw this, I said, this fucking guy. You have to be fucking kidding me. This fucking guy, he's German, he can read Goethe, or Kafka, or Herman Hesse, or Thomas Mann. And he's sitting here, in my hammock, and he's reading the fucking Da Vinci Code. So I said no way, man, I said, no fucking way."
What did you do? Brian and I asked.
"I'll tell you, I took his book from him. That fucking Dan Brown bullshit. I took it outside, and I took my lighter, and I burned it. I burned that fucking book in front of that fucking guy."
Oh, the horror. Oh, the admiration.
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