Nix los auf chilenisch

This New Year's Eve will go down in history, at least in my/our history, as the most uneventful of all time (hopefully😉).

We had imagined it so beautifully and thought we had planned it well, but then everything turned out differently.

On the 30th, we drove back to the coast from Pucón. Half of Chile celebrates New Year's Eve in Valparaíso, about 955km further north on the coast, so it couldn't be that bad in Valdivia either, we thought. I found rooms on AirBnB that offered a cultural community: with a yoga room, participation in classes, a nice patio, a shared kitchen, colorful and creative in the pictures... When booking, we immediately received information about the vegetarian diet, the thoughtful waste separation, the cat in the house, that we are all brothers and sisters (of course the other way around) AND that they planned a party and we were warmly invited. Perfect, we thought, and after a moment's hesitation, of maybe a too short night, marijuana scent all over, or too esoteric-feminist-gender-and-diversity-and-transgender-friendly discussions, we agreed. The colorful-flagged little house was located in a residential area and we were greeted with a gentle patchouli scent as we entered the house. Everything was creative and colorful, the little cat, just taken in from the street, was also there, but she wasn't the only hygienic deficit or risk, depending on how you look at it (I was equally skeptical of the dish sponge). But we were greeted very kindly, introduced to the possibilities of Valdivia, and the first conversations about the dictatorship, the flourishing of Chile, and the role of the Mapuche (actually we celebrate the new year with them in June) could begin. They wanted to lend us bikes, but the brakes were broken and the only tool in the house had been lost by the last Airbnb guests. After the keys that matched the entrance doors were found, we could go. And we found Valdivia quite nice and creative, a bit alternative with a nice pub scene. They have already jumped on the craft beer bandwagon with globalization, so we spent a nice evening with fries, beer, and the best rock music of the 90s. When we came back, the young people in the house started going out. The atmosphere among them seemed bad. During breakfast preparation (do you need fire for the gas stove? Keep mine, everyone here smokes, lighters are in short supply), then the report: they had decided to go camping for a few days this afternoon. Ok... before we would have significantly changed the small group both in terms of age and in terms of shared drug use, an evening in the city might be preferable and we were a bit relieved for now.

Outside, the clouds didn't seem to want to clear at all. Good for my sunburn! We drove to the coast, a summer vacation bathing spot for Valdivia, and we spent a North Sea-like day with a beach walk, climbing the cliffs, watching dolphins (ok, there aren't any at the North Sea),... Back in the city, we interviewed the waiter again about where to go in the evening. Everywhere, was the answer, there's something going on everywhere. So we went home again and around 8:30 p.m. back to the city. Helmut had spotted restaurants at the fish market that were all very lively in the afternoon: they were all closed. I had googled where else there were restaurants: everything closed and locked. There were also hardly any people out and about. And it had started to rain. So let's go to the pub district, we thought. Although it was almost impossible to get a table there yesterday, but something will work out. The first pub: dark, the next one closed, the small brewpub from yesterday: empty. Well, the gas station with a snack bar was still lit up. I already saw us sitting there. By now it was 9:30 p.m. On the way back, we actually noticed one store where the 'abierto' sign was lit. Tables were set, with funny hats, horns, and garlands. But there was no one there. We ordered and ate rather mediocre food. 11 p.m. And now what? By now it had gotten busier, but far from a New Year's Eve atmosphere. Helmut had fascinated watched the Pisco sour mixer and in the end we had one for entertainment. 11:30 p.m. So, what does fireworks mean in Spanish? The waiter we beckoned over is in Valdivia for the first year and first had to ask where something was happening. The answer from the bartender was: La Niebla. On the beach of Los Molinos, a little further than where we were during the day today. At least half an hour away. But now we can't get there anymore. No micro, no collectivo on the street anymore. Hm...

We walk back towards downtown in the company of street dogs, find a taxi whose engine starts after several attempts and rolling backwards, and are back home at 11:55 p.m. The residential area is deserted.

Midnight: three to five illuminated rockets from ships can be seen falling from the sky in slow motion. Around us: nothing.

12:15 a.m. - we're in bed.

Feliz año nuevo!