27 Zapallar, rodeo

Holidays and short breaks
Argentina (2001)
Chile (2002)
India (2003)
World trip (2005-2006)
Libya (2008)

Pictures
1 Croydon to Arica
2 Arica, Azapa Valley
3 Arica, Panam + Codpa
4 Arica, PN Lauca
5 Calama
6 Chuquicamata
7 Salar de Atacama
8 San Pedro de Atacama
9 Tatio and Puritama
10 Santiago
11 Santiago to Pucón
12 Pucón
13 Pucón, a lazy day
14 Termas de San Luis
15 Pucón, horse ride
16 Puerto Varas
17 Ancud
18 Chiloé
19 Chiloé, pinguineria
20 Puerto Varas, casino
21 Torres del Paine
22 Torres del Paine
23 Torres del Paine
24 Torres del Paine
25 Zapallar
26 Zapallar
27 Zapallar, rodeo
28 Long trip home

Chile

Saturday 30 November 2002

Today is rodeo-day! We wake up late and have a lazy breakfast. It feels like a Sunday on a weekend city-break, great. At reception we enquire about “the rodeo, you know” and are met with blank stares but soon reach understanding and a taxi is ordered, grandpa and his van again. There is no rodeo at Puchuncavi it turns out. We only learned about this because someone the receptionist or grandpa or the cook spoke with knew this, but we are told there is one at Catapilco, about the same distance. Last day for the trekking pants.

Half an hour’s drive away and we’re in a different world, of Chilean farms, horses, fiestas. The rodeo is at a small venue off a road at Catapilco. We arrive at about 11am. There are a few huasos stood around and there is covered area for the fiesta, and an enclosure for the actual rodeo, with seating around it. We are very clearly a novelty, the only turistas, and by a long way. The rodeo doesn’t actually start until 2.30pm. We haven’t got anything else to do or anywhere to go so decide to wait, grandpa is happy to do so. We have a wander round and chat with some of the huasos in the “bar”. We don’t have enough small change so one of the huasos buys us a drink. One of the señoritas who is serving promises to teach me the cueca later on. There isn’t all that much to see besides the few huasos, the rodeo enclosure and the pens holding the cows. We stroll back to the van after a while and go to sleep. Bit by bit more huasos arrive, the sound system is tested, “ola, ola, ola, uno, dos, tres”, and cueca music is played.

At about 2pm we go back to the bar, I have a beer [How did we pay for it?] and we wait at a little table, not making any conversation with the farmers and huasos other than polite and friendly buenos diases. A table in the bar acts as the registration desk for rodeo participants. Most are older men, with a few young lads. All are donned very smartly in sombrero (straw or felt), mancha (various colours), leather “gaiters” and spurs which clink-clink as they walk. Finally they are called up to take their places in the rodeo enclosure and we follow the few spectators to get a grandstand seat. Entry is $500 (I kept the ticket somewhere). The pictures will tell the story of the spectacle.

The game is pretty straightforward: two riders play in pairs and have to keep the cow under control and lead/drive it round the semi-circular arena, pressing it against the cushioned sections with their horses at either end of the semi-circle. Depending on where they press the cow they get points. I think belly scored highest. We’re fascinated by the spectacle and rapidly pick up on the basis rules. It’s tempting to stay for the whole day and take part in the fiesta later but two hours is more than enough.

My would-be cueca teacher twirls her white handkerchief at me when I go to get a beer at the bar. Hmm… does she know what challenge she has set herself, teaching me to dance? If it wasn’t our last evening in Chile I would have been tempted to stay on, but a romantic table for two at the beach is more appealing and we decide to head back to the hotel around 4.30pm. This leaves us with enough time to have another stab at finding the elusive centre of Zapallar for gift shopping. We do manage to find it this time but apart from a few mercados scattered here and there, and a green landscaped but deserted “plaza”, there is no real town as such, only a collection of smart houses.

We have a late lunch at a twee restaurant, empanadas, and then settle on the beach, watching the sun and sea. At a beach-front villa a group of older Chileans are having cocktails on the balcony. On the beach a few people are lying around and kids are playing. I dip toes in the water and get trousers soaked. It’s a great way to spend our last afternoon in Chile. When the sun has set we move to the restaurant, the same as yesterday, and have a couple of drinks followed by dinner, another candle-lit dinner by the Pacific with the sound of the waves and jazz in the background.

Beginning to feel a bit melancholy because it is our last evening, and we start to reflect on the many new places and things we have seen or done over the past month. We walk back aided by the torch, startle a few groups of teenagers who are playing around on the rocks and beaches along the path.

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