Portillo
Diez y Ocho + Ski Portillo = Too Much Fun!

September 21, 2007

...starting back about a week ago...

First we had to drive a road that looks like this...

because we couldn't take the old railroad that isn't in service anymore, but which used to go through tunnels like this...

the point of which was to arrive at a ski resort - one that used to advertise itself with brochures like this...

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The name of the resort is still Portillo, even though it now uses slightly different advertising methods. Fortunately, as we've discovered, in-spite of an internet-aided and very slick marketing approach, the resort still functions basically in line with its time-honored traditions, providing the guests with a cozy, friendly, and lively atmosphere - and some pretty decent skiing, too.  Portillo is located near the Paso los Libertadores, one of the busiest overland routes between Chile and Argentina, located about two hours from Santiago and four from the Argentinean (wine region) city of Mendoza. Hence the steady stream of large trucks and tour busses that labor up the snake-like Ruta 60 with around-the-clock dedication to international commerce and visitation rights.  The incredibly slow trucks, slightly faster busses, and nimble impatient passenger cars on the 2 to 3 lane road make for an exciting game of tag-chicken-cat&mouse between traffic in both directions. And the distraction of incredible scenery only adds to the confusion (and risk).

Lynn had read somewhere that Portillo functions like a land-locked cruise ship, and now that we're here, we understand the comparison. They serve us four meals a day, and provide a whirlwind of social and entertainment activities for people of all ages. There are heated pools, exercise rooms and classes, a disco, two bars (a non-alcoholic one for kids), basketball court, indoor climbing wall, game room, and places to sleep at night as well.  After a few days spent in Portillo, it is virtually impossible not to have met a variety of interesting people and made some new friends. 

The thing I notice being the most different between Portillo and a cruise ship is that on a cruise ship, if you walk very far from the deck, you fall into the ocean and most likely drown. Here at Portillo, if you walk away from the hotel, you end up either in a parking lot or on the side of a mountain. If you picked the mountain direction and have the proper gear, you can end up enjoying some pretty good skiing.

So while we did ski here, we also enjoyed some simple lazy lay-about activities,

like playing backgammon in the living room...

or hot-tubbing on the deck to work out the kinks in our stiff muscles between ski-runs (and of course the evil Wietel-Owens parents made the suffering children do schoolwork).

The massive rock-faced mountains here at Portillo dwarf the ski runs, and it is actually me in the second picture following, riding the ski lift by myself.

Various international alpine ski teams visit Portillo for summer training sessions. The week while we were here, the US Women's team was also here, and we enjoyed watching their training runs. As you probably can tell from the following pictures, they can just barely ski a little faster than I do.

Anna had been bugging me to accompany her during a snowboard lesson, so I consented to taking a lesson with her and Tom. Anna is the only one of the three of us who had been on a snowboard before, but only for one day so she still considered herself a beginner. We all progressed pretty well during that first lesson, but my sore butt dampened my enthusiasm for staying with it along with Tom and Anna as they continued boarding the next couple of days. Of course I declared that the primary reason I forsook the snowboard for the skis was that I really wanted to ski with Lynn.

What are these funky things stuck to our feet?

Hey, we can slide around on the snow with them!

Now something else of great importance was also happening this week, which made the atmosphere even a little more festive than it might have otherwise been.

Diez y Ocho!  September 18th! Chilean Independence Day!  Fire up the barbeque and dance the cueca! Drink chicha from a rams horn! Wave the flag! Send a purple Barney out skiing to entertain the little kids! Have a torch-light ski parade at night!  (and most importantly...)  Party late and party hard! 

The cueca is the traditional dance of Chile. It starts out with the men trying to get the women to dance with them and the women resisting. Then they eventually decide to dance along and then the men pretend that they aren't interested - eventually they work out all the petty behavior and start dancing in earnest. The signature movement of the dance is waving a white handkerchief overhead (both sides do it).  I have no idea if this men pursuing coy women and then women pursuing obstinate men is part of the traditional dance, or just the particular dancers we were watching goofing off and having fun...

and then the band passed the horn full of chicha around. In Peru, Chicha is made from masticated (by humans) corn. Here in Chile they scowled at me when I suggested that human mouths might be part of the fermentation process, and they informed me that grapes are the primary ingredient of Chilean Chicha. What makes it different than wine I can't say, although I did taste some. I think I detected a hint of saliva...

In addition to the incredibly steep and imposing bald rock escarpments surrounding Portillo, the resort building faces the picturesque Laguna del Inca - a favorite postcard centerpiece and photo topic for every visitor who brought their camera. 

Various poses of the Laguna del Inca...

and the mountains surrounding Portillo.

So everything would be totally perfect with our stay here, except Tom hurt his knee on his third day snowboarding (yesterday). They took x-rays in the clinic (negative), gave him a brace to wear for awhile, and he seems to be much improved today - certainly not in any sort of constant pain. We may have to re-visit a doctor down the road to double check for ligament or cartilage damage, but for now we'll just hope that there is nothing more serious than a bad bruise.

And alas, tomorrow we must re-cram the truck and drive back down to the "real world."  Tom and Anna have repeatedly declared their desire to stay here longer. Tom is totally happy to lounge around in his knee brace and accept condolences. Lynn has suggested permanent residence. Perhaps we can swing another week here next June or July after the snow returns in the early winter. I really don't want to leave, either.

-Rolf